he—”
“Said something about you not having sex, which got your macho all in a twist. Am I right?” she asked.
“Not about the macho part, but the rest is pretty accurate. How did you know?” And why did she say it straight out without any awkwardness? Maybe because the lights were still out and clouds filled the sky. There was no way he could see whether or not she was blushing. It was one step shy of making love in the dark.
“I know because I have brothers. Two.” She shrugged.
“Okay.” He let out a breath. “His comment touched a nerve and then there’s the classic car—”
“Just a hot minute. If this is you digressing to distract me, you should be warned that it won’t work.”
“That never crossed my mind.” Because he’d already tried that and found out she was too smart to be sidetracked by his charming repartee. “It’s important.”
“Okay, then. Carry on.”
“Our grandfather left Sam his classic Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, even though I always told him I wanted it. He said it was about Sam being the oldest.” Cal sighed. “I really love that car. But apparently Granddad told Sam that I worked too much to care for the Duchess the way she needed to be cared for. To make a long story short—”
“Too late for that,” she teased.
He laughed. “Sam bet me that I couldn’t stay on this island for a month.”
“By ‘stay’ I assume he meant vacation?”
“That’s not what he said,” Cal stressed. “There was no stipulation about not working.”
“But it was implied. That’s the very definition of vacation,” she insisted. “And yet you brought me here to help you work.”
“I can’t deny that.”
There was the dreaded judgment in her eyes and it was definitely going against him. “That violates the very spirit of the wager. You’re supposed to be here taking a break. Resting and relaxing.”
Very little of either was going on, Cal thought. And it had only gotten worse since Justine showed up. “I honestly had planned to do that. I had a schedule of activities every day. A spreadsheet—”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I had something on the calendar for every day. Parasailing, hang gliding, wave riding, rock climbing—”
Her mouth opened, hinting that she was appalled. “Those aren’t gentle, peaceful or restful. They’re life-threatening.”
“I prefer to think of them as aggressive leisure interests.” She was really putting him on the defensive. “The point is that I broke my leg on the first day and had to cancel everything. And I couldn’t leave the island and lose the bet. Sitting around and doing nothing would have pushed me over the edge.” He shrugged. “I figured that I might as well work.”
“Wow. You would rather work when there’s a beautiful, exciting island just outside the door to this luxury villa and it’s yours to explore?”
“Not when you’re on crutches,” he retorted. “Believe me, I checked. No wave riding or parasailing when you’ve got a cast on your leg.”
“You’ve never heard of plan B?”
“Of course I have. But, like I said, I’m complicated. And nothing fun is cast-friendly.”
There was a gleam in her eyes when she said, “I bet there’s a lot of fun things you can do with that plaster on your leg.”
“I challenge you to come up with a list of activities for a guy in my situation. Until then, don’t judge.”
* * *
It wasn’t long before the lights came back on, the clouds disappeared and paradise was restored. Outside. Inside, Justine went to work, and when not busy doing something for her boss, she researched available activities on this tropical island. At lunchtime they took a break and she was ready with a list. After finishing a delicious meal of grilled fish, delicate rice, salad and the yummiest sugar cookies ever, she figured it was as good a time as any to bring it up.
She was sitting in the club chair beside the cushy sofa where Cal was stretched out. “I’m ready for your challenge,” she said.
“Which one would that be?”
“I think asking the question is a stall technique, but we’ll play this your way.” She opened a file folder containing information she’d printed out. “There are many things to do on this island. Even for a man with limited mobility.”
“Don’t even mention the W-word.”
She was drawing a blank. “I’m sorry. The what now?”
“Wheelchair.”
“Ah.” She nodded her understanding. “You’re thinking limitations. My focus is broader. That’s the difference between us.”
“No. The difference is that my leg is broken. Yours are just fine.” He stopped and that declaration settled in the air between them. “I’m sorry. By ‘fine’ I meant you’re not on crutches.”
“I know what you meant.”
Her leg was fine if you were just talking mobility. It had taken surgeries, time and hard work to regain function, albeit with a slight limp, but the extensive scars would always be a visual reminder of what she’d lost.
“Moving on, then. No wheelchair. Got it.” She scanned her paperwork. “You were right.”
“I’m surprised to hear you admit that.” But he looked puzzled. “What exactly is it that I’m right about?”
“Activities at an island resort heavily favor guests who are not in a cast.”
“Like I said, there’s nothing for me to do and I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. Hence the work. Given my circumstances, that’s not a violation of the spirit of the wager with my brother. It comes under the heading of Circumstances Beyond My Control.”
“Not completely true,” she told him. “I said it favors noninjured people, but there’s plenty to keep the physically challenged occupied.”
“Such as?”
“Massage.” She let that sink in for a moment. “The resort has a lovely menu of them. For example—the Swedish massage using long, fluid strokes to relieve muscle tension and improve circulation. Optimum blood flow will facilitate healing in your leg. And the technique will ease you into relaxation and relieve stress throughout your entire body. That’s not just the spirit of vacation. It’s proactive participation in it.”
She looked up from her notes to gauge his reaction. There was a tight, tense expression on his face that wasn’t exactly disapproval, but something that made her heart skip a beat. It was as if he could think of something else to relieve
