Sandy’s eyes.
‘Magic? Well, it did come from my fairy notebook,’ she said.
Something called him to join in their complicity, to believe in their fantasy.
Hope he’d thought long extinguished struggled to revive itself. Magic? Was it magic that Sandy had brought with her? Magic from the past? Magic for the future? He desperately wanted to believe that.
But there was no such thing as magic. He’d learnt that on a violently blazing day five years ago, when he had been powerless to save the lives of his family.
He would need a hell of a lot more than some so-called fairy dust to change his mind.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE FIRST THING Sandy noticed on the beach early the next morning was the dog. A big, shaggy golden retriever, it lay near a towel on the sand near the edge of the water with its head resting on its paws. Its gaze was directed out to the surf of Big Ray Beach, the beach she’d reached via the boardwalk from the bay.
Twelve years ago she’d thought ‘Big Ray’ must refer to a person. No. Ben had informed her the beach had another name on the maps. But the locals had named it after the two enormous manta rays that lived on the northern end of the beach and every so often undulated their way to the other end. He had laughed at her squeals and hugged her close, telling her they were harmless and that he would keep her safe from anything that dared hurt her.
This morning there were only a few people in the water; she guessed one of them must be the dog’s owner. At six-thirty, with strips of cloud still tinged pink from sunrise, it was already warm, the weather gearing up for sultry heat after the previous day’s storm. Cicadas were already tuning up their chorus for the day.
Sandy smiled at the picture of doggy devotion. Get dog of own once settled in Melbourne, she added in a mental memo for her ‘to do’ list. That-Jerk-Jason had allergies and wouldn’t tolerate a dog in the house. How had she been so in love with him when they’d had so little in common apart from their jobs?
She walked up to the dog and dropped to her knees in the sand. She offered it her hand to sniff, then ruffled the fur behind its neck. ‘Aren’t you a handsome boy?’ she murmured.
The dog looked up momentarily, with friendly, intelligent eyes, thumped his plumed tail on the sand, then resumed his vigil.
She followed the animal’s gaze, curious to see the object of such devotion. The dog’s eyes were fixed on a man who was body-surfing. His broad, powerful shoulders and athletic physique were in perfect sync with the wave, harnessing its energy as it curled behind him and he shot towards shore.
The man was Ben.
She knew that even before he lifted his head from the water, a look of intense exhilaration on his face as he powered down the face of the wave. He was as at home on a wave as he had been when he was nineteen, and for a moment it was as if she were thrown back into the past. So much of her time with him that summer had been spent on this beach.
She was transported back to a morning like this when she’d run from the guesthouse to the sand and found him riding a wave, accompanied by a pod of dolphins, their grey shapes distinct on the underside of the wave. Joy and wonder had shone from his face. She’d splashed in to meet him and shared a moment of pure magic before the pod took off. Afterwards they’d lain on their backs on the beach, holding hands, marvelling over the experience. Did he remember?
Now he had seen her watching, and he lifted off the wave as it carried him into shore. She wanted to call out to him not to break off his ride on her account, but knew he wouldn’t hear her over the sound of the surf.
He waved a greeting and swam, then strode towards her through the small breaking waves that foamed around his legs. Her breath caught in her throat at his near-naked magnificence. He was so tall and powerfully built that he seemed to dominate the vastness of the ocean and the horizon behind him.
His hair was dark and plastered to his head. The water was streaming off his broad shoulders and honed muscles. Sunlight glistened off the drops of water on his body so he seemed for one fanciful moment like some kind of mythical hero, emerging from the sea.
Desire, sudden and overwhelming, surged through her. Her nipples tensed and she seemed to melt inside. She wanted him. Longed for him. How could she ever have left him? She should have defied her parents and got back to Dolphin Bay. Somehow. Anyhow. Just to be with him.
That was back then. Now they were very different people who just happened to have found themselves on the same beach. But the attraction was as compelling as ever, undiluted by the years that had passed.
Why couldn’t she forget that special time they had shared? What kept alive that fraction of hope that they could share it again? It wasn’t just that she found him good-looking. This irrational compulsion was more than that. Something so powerful it overrode his rejection of her overtures. He didn’t want her here. He had made that clear from the word go. She should just return his acquaintance-type wave and walk on.
But she ran in to the knee-deep waves to meet him. The dog splashed alongside her, giving a few joyous barks of welcome. She squealed at the sudden chill of the water as it sprayed her.
Remember, just friends, she reminded herself as she and Ben neared each other. Give him even a hint of the desire that had her so shaky and confused and he might turn back to that ocean and swim all the way to New Zealand.
‘Good morning, Mr President,’ she said. Ben as leader of the business community? It took some getting used to. And yet the air of authority was there when he dealt with his staff at the hotel—and they certainly gave him the deference due to a well-respected boss.
‘Just Ben will do,’ he said as he walked beside her onto the dry sand. As always, she had trouble keeping up with his stride.
She was finding it almost impossible not to look at his body, impressive in red board shorts. Kept casting sideways glances at him.
‘So you’ve met Hobo,’ he said, with an affectionate glance at the dog.
‘No formal introductions were made, but we said hello,’ she said, still breathless at her physical reaction to him. ‘Is he yours?’
She felt self-conscious at Ben’s nearness, aware that she was wearing only a bikini covered by the skimpiest of tank tops.
‘My mother helps out at a dog shelter. Sometimes she brings dogs home to foster until they find permanent homes. This one clapped eyes on me, followed me to my house and has been with me ever since.’ He leaned down to pat the dog vigorously. ‘Can’t get rid of you, can I, mate?’ He spoke with ill-concealed affection.
So he had something to love.
She was glad.
‘He’s adorable. And he guarded your towel like a well-trained soldier.’
Ben picked up the towel from the sand and flung it around his neck. How many times had she seen him do that in just the same way? How many times had he tucked his towel solicitously around her if her own towel was damp?
‘What brings you to the beach so early?’ he asked.
She pulled a face. ‘Had to walk those Snickers bars off.’
