his gaze didn’t drop. In fact it turned into a distinct glare. Was he some discontented dive-boat customer? Some of the tourists were determined to swim with the manta rays or mola mola fish, no matter the time of year or conditions on the day they took a tour. They didn’t understand how unpredictable the sea currents could be here and would go away to vent their anger on Internet review sites. She’d prefer them to express their disappointment to her. How would she have forgotten a man as attractive as this?
But as she got closer she realised exactly who the man was. Max Conway.
Anger and frustration rose in her so bitter she could taste it. After six months surely Alan had given up trying to find her? Now it seemed he’d sicced his watchdog best man onto her.
She marched across the sand to confront him. There was no call for niceties. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded.
His blue eyes were intense with dislike. ‘I could ask the same of you.’
She didn’t owe him any explanations. ‘Did Alan send you to drag me back to Sydney? If so I—’
‘No. Why would he? And why would you think I’d jump to his command if he did?’
‘He hasn’t stopped hunting for me.’
Max shrugged. ‘That’s nothing to do with me. I haven’t seen the guy since your wedding day.’ His tone was so decisive, his gaze so direct, she believed him.
His hand went to his nose in a reflex action he didn’t seem to know he was doing. She noticed it was slightly crooked. The slight flaw only made him look more handsome. So it was true.
‘I believe Alan didn’t take it kindly when you returned my engagement ring to him.’ She felt bad about what had happened. All her fault for dragging the unwilling best man into her drama. Not that she regretted it for a moment. She still shuddered at the thought of how lucky she’d been to escape marriage to Alan.
‘You heard right,’ said Max. ‘His response was to try to knock me out.’
She cringed. The photos of the best man and the groom brawling had been all over the press. The erroneous implication being they were fighting over her. The photographer she had hired for her wedding had cashed in big time. ‘Did he break your nose when he punched you?’ She found herself mirroring Max’s action by touching her own perfectly intact nose.
‘I’ve had worse injuries.’ He smiled a not very pleasant smile. ‘Trust me, he was hurting more than I was when I punched him back.’
Secretly, she was glad Alan had been hurt. After all he’d done to her, his ex-wives, and others she’d since found out had been damaged by his underhand behaviour, her former fiancé deserved more than a whack on the nose.
‘But you were friends,’ she said.
‘I wouldn’t go so far as to call it friendship,’ he said. ‘I met him at tennis camp when we were teenagers and we became mates of a kind. He wasn’t good enough to make the grade competitively. When he stopped playing tennis we pretty much lost touch. Until recently. I was back in Australia after years of living abroad. He’d returned to Sydney after living in Melbourne for a long time. I was surprised when he asked me to be his best man, but he said his friends were in Melbourne.’
‘By marriage number three—thwarted marriage number three, I mean—he might have run out of best-man options.’ Nikki couldn’t help the cynical edge to her voice.
He frowned. ‘Perhaps.’
‘I didn’t mean that as an insult,’ she said hastily. ‘He was lucky to have you.’
He shrugged. ‘I was the sucker who said yes.’
‘So you weren’t pond scum after all. Not that I ever really thought you were.’ It was a small white lie. She’d thought him pond scum by association. But when he’d picked her up and run with her in his arms, Max had redeemed himself in her eyes. There was still his media reputation as a love cheat but that had nothing to do with her.
‘No. But he proved to be particularly unpleasant.’ Should she offer to pay for plastic surgery on his nose? Perhaps not. He might be insulted. Besides, she hadn’t been the one to swing that punch.
She looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry if—’
He caught her arm. ‘Can we move somewhere more private? I don’t want an audience.’
She followed him to a quieter part of the beach, taking care not to trip over the mooring ropes that snaked along the sand. Max stopped under the shade of a spiky-leaved Pandanus tree. She slung off her backpack and placed it by her feet. A backpack was best for carrying shopping to keep her hands free when hopping on and off boats. ‘I’m sorry for being confrontational,’ she said. ‘I associated you with Alan. Even though you were so kind about helping me.’
He nodded in acknowledgment of her apology. He looked so good with that beard. ‘So why are you here if not to track me down for Alan?’
‘Why does anyone come to tropical islands?’ he said. ‘But I don’t want people to know I’m here on vacation. I’d appreciate it if you kept it quiet.’
‘How long are you here for?’ she asked. Most people only stayed a few days. There wasn’t a lot to do if you weren’t into surfing or snorkelling.
‘Two weeks.’
Nikki didn’t know whether to be concerned by his reply or not. Only her family and very closest friends knew where she’d fled to six months ago. She’d prefer to keep it that way.
He indicated her backpack. ‘What about you? Are you here just for the day?’ He didn’t have to say I hope so. She could see it on his face, hear it in the tone of his voice.
‘I live here.’ There was no way she could conceal it.
‘What?’ She could take his alarm as an insult. But their last meeting hadn’t exactly led to sunshine and moonbeams for him. The media had been ruthless in their pursuit of him after the scandal of the wedding. Determined to drum up a romance, at the very least an affair, between the runaway bride and the best man. She’d run all the way up here. He’d been left in Sydney to bear the brunt of the intrusive attention.
‘Do you remember I said I had a plan?’
He nodded.
‘Well, I didn’t. I escaped up here the day after the wedding to stay with my Indonesian friend while I thought about what to do. She was a boarder at the girls’ school I went to in Sydney. We’ve been great friends ever since. She’d come to Sydney for the wedding, one of my bridesmaids, and I went home with her. I knew she’d keep my whereabouts secret. What I didn’t know was that she was pregnant and suffering severe morning sickness that went on and on. She and her husband run a hotel here. I stayed to help her. And I’m still here.’
He shrugged. ‘The island is small. Just four kilometres long, I believe. But large enough so we can stay out of each other’s way,’ he said.
‘True,’ she said. ‘I promise to keep your whereabouts secret if you do the same for me.’
‘Done,’
