shrugged. ‘Taking a shower before dinner,’ he said innocently enough, although she saw the gleam in his eyes. ‘Care to join me?’
‘No!’
But she couldn’t resist watching his hands moving over the buttons, feeling for them, pushing them through the holes. Clever hands. Long-fingered hands. And as he tweaked the buttons she was reminded of the clever way he’d tweaked her nipples and worked other magic… She looked away. Looked back again. ‘There’s no point. No point to any of it.’
‘It’s only sex,’ he said, finishing off the rest of the buttons before peeling off his shirt. ‘It’s not like we haven’t already done it—several times. And I know for a fact you enjoyed it. I really don’t know why you’re making out like it’s some kind of ordeal.’
‘It was supposed to be for just one night,’ she said, trying and failing not to be distracted by his broad chest and that line of dark hair heading south. ‘A one-night stand. No strings attached.’
‘So we make it a four-night stand. And I sure as hell don’t see any strings.’
She dragged her recalcitrant eyes north again, wondering how he could so easily consider making love to a person like they had for not one but four nights, and not want to feel some kind of affection for the other party. But, then, he had a head start on her. He had a heart of stone. ‘It was nice, sure. But that doesn’t mean we have to have any repeat performances.’
‘There’s that word again.’ His hands dropped to the waistband of his pants, stilled there. ‘“Nice”. Tell me, if you scream like that for nice, what do you do for mind-blowing? Shatter windows?’
She felt heat flood her face, totally mortified at being reminded of her other wanton self, especially now when she was trying to make like she could live without such sex. ‘Okay, so it was better than nice. So what? It’s not as if we even like each other.’
‘And that matters because…?’
She spun away, reduced to feeling like some random object rather than a woman with feelings and needs of her own, and crossed to the wall of windows that looked out through palm trees to the bay beyond. It was moonlit now, the moon dusting the swaying palm leaves with silver and laying a silvery trail across the water to the shore, where tiny waves rippled in, luminescent as they kissed the beach. It was beautiful, the air balmy and still, and she wished she could enjoy it. But right now she was having trouble getting past the knowledge that she’d spent an entire night, had bared herself, body and soul, to a man who treated sex as some kind of birthright.
And if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d not so subtly pointed out she’d been vocally enthusiastic, now he’d as much as agreed that he didn’t even like her. Lovely.
And that was supposed to make her happier about sleeping with him?
Fat chance.
She felt his hands land on her shoulders, his long fingers stroking her arms, felt his warm breath fan her hair. ‘You are a beautiful woman, Evelyn. You are beautiful and sexy and built for unspeakable pleasure. And you know it. So why do you deny yourself that which you so clearly desire?’
Self-preservation, she thought, as his velvet-coated words warmed her in places she didn’t want warmed and stroked an ego that wanted to be liked and maybe, maybe even more than that.
‘I can’t,’ she said. Not without losing myself in a place I don’t want to be. Not without risking falling in love with a man who has no heart. ‘Please, just believe me, I’ll pretend to be your fiancée, I’ll pretend to be your lover. But, please, don’t expect me to sleep with you.’
The big house, as the Culshaws referred to it, was exactly that. Not flashy, but all spacious tropical elegance, the architecture, like that of the bures, styled to bring the outside in with lots of timber and glass and sliding walls. Outside, on an expansive deck overlooking the bay and the islands silhouetted against the sky, a table had been beautifully laid, but it was the night sky that captured everyone’s attention.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many stars,’ Eve confessed, dazzled by the display as they sat down for the meal. ‘It’s just magical.’
Eric laughed. ‘We think so. This island takes its name from one of them but don’t ask me to point out which one.’
Maureen continued, ‘When we first came here for a holiday about thirty years ago, we got home to Melbourne and wanted to turn right back round again. We’ve been coming here every year since. Hasn’t been used much lately, not since—’
Eric cut in, saving her from finishing. ‘Well, it’s good to have guests here again, that’s for sure. So I’d like to propose a toast. To guests and good friends and good times,’ he said, and they all raised their glasses for the toast.
‘Now,’ Eric said, from alongside Leo, ‘how’s that young man of yours settling in?’
‘He’s in his element,’ Eve replied. ‘Two of his favourite things are fish and boats. He can’t believe his good fortune.’
‘Excellent. And the babysitter’s to your satisfaction? Did she tell you she’s hoping to study child care next year?’
‘Hannah seems wonderful, thank you.’
Maureen distracted her on the other side, patting her on the hand. ‘Oh, that reminds me, I’ve booked the spa,’ she started.
But Eve didn’t hear the rest, not when she heard Eric ask Leo, ‘How old did you say Sam was again?’
She froze, her focus on the man beside her and how he replied to the question, the man stumbling with an answer, seemingly unable to remember the age of his own supposed child.
‘Ah, remind me again, Eve?’ he said at last. ‘Is Sam two yet?’ Eve excused herself and smiled, forcing a laugh.
‘You go away much too much if you think Sam’s already had his birthday. He’s eighteen months old. How could you possibly forget?’
Leo snorted and said, ‘I never remember this milestone stuff. It’s lucky Evelyn does,’ which earned agreement from Eric at least.
‘It must be hard on you, though, Evelyn, with Leo always on the move,’ Maureen said. Eve wanted to hug the woman for moving the conversation along, although a moment later she wished she’d opted for a complete change of topic. ‘Do you have family nearby who help out?’
She smiled softly, looking up at the stars for just a moment, wondering where they were amidst the vast array. Her grandfather had held her hand and taken her outside on starry nights when she hadn’t been able to stop crying and had told her they were up there somewhere, shining brightly, keeping her grandmother company. And now her grandfather was there too. She blinked. ‘I have a wonderful neighbour who helps out. My parents died when I was ten and—I hate to admit it—I don’t remember terribly much about them. I lived with my grandfather after that.’
‘Oh-h-h,’ said Felicity. ‘They never got to meet Sam.’
‘No, and I know they would have loved him.’ She took a breath. ‘Oh, I’m sorry for sounding so maudlin on such a beautiful night. Maybe we should change the topic, talk about
