Book Read Free

Best Man and the Runaway Bride

Page 15

by Kandy Shepherd


  Alarmed, she sat up in bed, now wide awake. Was something wrong back home?

  She opened the urgent text from her sister.

  Nikki, you need to look at this. Then call me.

  With fingers that were suddenly unsteady, Nikki clicked on the link to the website of a popular tabloid newspaper. The words screamed up at her: ‘Runaway bride and traitor best man enjoy raunchy romp in tropical love nest!’

  For a shocked second she thought it was a rehash of the ‘secret Fiji love nest’ beat-up that had run six months ago. Then she focussed on the photos that ran below the headline. And had to swallow against the nausea that rose in her throat.

  The photos had been taken here on this island. Recently. The main shot was a zoomed-in image of her and Max kissing in the laneway outside the sunset restaurant, her blue dress rucked up and exposing an indecent amount of bare thigh as well as bare back. The kiss was hungry and passionate—as indeed it had been. But the way the image had been cropped made it look seedy.

  The next one was another of her with Max, their heads very close together, smiling intimately at each other at the restaurant table. They looked like lovers. In fact it was captioned ‘The Look of Love?’ Under any other circumstance Nikki would think it beautiful and want a copy.

  The final shot was of her and Max, shoulders touching, wading out of the water together at Frangipani Bay, she in her high-cut red swimsuit and the tight black swim shirt that, when wet, revealed every curve and indent of her body. Max was wearing just his black swim shorts, the rest of his magnificent body bare and glistening with drops of water. She was laughing up at him as if she was besotted. That one was captioned ‘Hot Stuff!’

  And of course, under those photos, there was an old one of Max running away from the church, carrying her in his arms.

  Other captions referred to Max’s tennis career: ‘Tennis star not too injured to enjoy sexy tryst with friend’s fiancée!’ was the only one she could bear to read.

  She closed her eyes but it was all there in front of her when she opened them again and she was plunged back into the nightmare she’d thought she’d left behind. Dear heaven, how had this happened?

  She scrolled down her messages. They were from other friends alerting her to the article. Reporters asking for comments. Her father demanding to know what the hell was going on.

  She gagged as she forced herself to read through the rest of the story, under the byline of ‘Our reporter on Lembongan Island’. She and Max had let themselves believe they’d had privacy in this out-of-the-way place. How naive they’d been.

  Beside her, Max stirred. Looking over to his side of the bed, she could see his phone was flashing with messages too.

  He opened his eyes. Smiled at her as if it was the happiest thing ever for him to find her there in his bed. But her expression must have told him something was wrong. He sat up. ‘You okay?’ he asked, wary.

  Nikki shook her head, fighting tears. She wanted to scream and cry and shout. But she managed a choked, ‘Not okay.’ Without another word, she handed him over her phone open at the offending article.

  ‘Why have the bridesmaid when the best man snagged the bride?’ was another headline.

  Oh, it was awful. What was beautiful between them was now being made to look sleazy. But at least this time they could face the media united as a couple.

  Max’s face darkened as he read. He cursed. Threw her phone on the bed. Then scowled. ‘Your friend Sammie.’ He spat out the words. ‘Some friend she is. How did you let this happen, Nikki? I thought you said you could trust her.’

  ‘You think this is Sammie? This isn’t her. She’s not that type of journalist. It’s some tourist with a smartphone. Everyone is a paparazzi these days. He—the photo credit is a he, probably a fake name—most likely recognised you then realised who I must be. Then he’s stalked us. Taken the opportunity to make some cash to fund his vacation by selling the photos to the trashy tabloid. They’ve then got some desk hack to cobble together an article.’

  She picked up her phone from where Max had thrown it and scrolled through some more. ‘Thank heaven he didn’t get behind our courtyard walls.’

  Max glared at her. ‘Only because I stopped your friend from coming over here.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ she said.

  Nikki pulled the sheet up over her breasts. Felt uncomfortable in front of him now when she’d been so uninhibited all night.

  ‘Is it? You shouldn’t have talked to a journalist, Nikki.’

  She gritted her teeth. ‘This has got nothing to do with me talking to Sammie.’

  ‘She could have shared her information with a mate on the tabloid. These photos were taken with a long-distance lens. A professional camera.’

  ‘Smartphones can have adjustable lenses. I’m telling you this is an opportunistic amateur trying to make a tidy sum from invading our privacy.’

  Max swung his legs over and sat on the edge of the bed, his bare back to her. He muttered an inventive string of curses. ‘You’d better get back to your own villa now this has hit the fan.’

  ‘What? You’re kicking me out?’

  He turned to her. ‘We don’t want your “opportunistic tourist” seeing us like this.’ He cursed again. ‘Don’t you see how bad this is? Last time, the media could lie all it liked but I knew the truth. I had behaved with honour. Now it looks like I ran away with you for a quick—’

  ‘Don’t say it. That disrespects me. And you. How do you think I feel about this? It’s always worse for the woman. My father will be spitting. My sister is upset too.’

  ‘My parents won’t like it either. They wouldn’t see this as honourable behaviour. Even though my father didn’t particularly like Alan when we played tennis together all those years ago.’

  ‘Actually it was an honourable thing you did by helping me escape what would almost certainly have been a disastrous marriage. This interest in us is only because you’re a celebrity. You’re news. I’m not. Any female “frolicking” with Max Conway would be news.’

  ‘The way you look in the red swimsuit makes you news,’ he said through obviously gritted teeth. ‘And good publicity for your swim school.’

  ‘Are you serious? You can’t mean that?’

  ‘Of course not,’ he muttered. But she was shocked he could even think it.

  ‘Max, can I be the voice of reason here? This is awful. I’m not saying it’s anything less than despicable that these people have tried to drag our names through the mud. But we actually haven’t done anything wrong. Nothing underhand or sordid. The wedding was six months ago. Alan has moved on to more profitable pastures. So we met when you helped me run away? Big deal. Isn’t that what the movies call “a cute meet”?’ The stubborn set of his face told her she wasn’t getting through to him. ‘Viewed through a different lens, I might have thought the way we met and then reconnected by accident on this beautiful island was...was romantic.’

  He picked up his phone and groaned. ‘There’s nothing vaguely romantic about “Tennis star not too injured to enjoy sexy tryst with friend’s fiancée!”’

  With what seemed to Nikki like morbid interest, Max continued to scroll through the story. ‘The comments from readers are even worse.’ He cradled his head in his hands.

  ‘Well, don’t read them,’ she said. ‘I didn’t.’

  He didn’t seem to notice when she tiptoed around the bed, still wrapped in the sheet, to retrieve her dress, then her panties and bra from where Max had tossed them on the floor last night.

  She ran into the bathroom with her clothes clutched to her front. Quickly she slipped into her underwear, then pulled her crumpled linen dress on over her head. She wet a tissue and wiped away the worst of her mascara panda eyes. Then dragged Max’s comb through her hair. Her worst fear—one she didn’t dare share with Max—was that there would be photographers waiting outside
Max’s villa hoping to catch her leaving in a morning-after-the-night-before ‘walk of shame’. As Sydney was two hours ahead of Lembongan in time difference, and the news mightn’t have hit here yet, she might be lucky.

  Max barred her way at the doorway from the bedroom. Standing there stark naked, he looked so magnificent she had to force herself not to stare. Not to take him by the hand and lead him back to the bed. But she was beginning to doubt whether she actually wanted to be his girlfriend. A good relationship needed more than good sex. Like trust. Particularly trust.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘You told me to get next door and so I am.’

  If he let her slink out there by herself without him by her side to support her, it was over.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ he said. ‘There might be more of those leeches out there.’

  She glared at him. ‘Max, what’s wrong with this picture? We should be dealing with this together. Instead you’re blaming me.’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘You’re refusing to believe I didn’t slip an exclusive to my journalist friend.’

  ‘You must admit the timing of her visit is suspicious.’

  ‘We went to that sunset restaurant on Thursday evening. She and her boyfriend didn’t fly into Bali until Friday afternoon. She, or her boyfriend, couldn’t possibly have taken those photos. Besides, she writes serious stuff for quality media, not tabloid rubbish. It might have been someone in that group of people who brushed past us in the laneway. It could have been anyone with a smartphone.’

  He brandished his phone. ‘There’s a lot of good publicity for Big Blue in this article. According to it, the resort is a perfect place for a “raunchy romp”.’

  ‘As it turned out, it actually was perfect for that purpose.’ She caught his eye. If he laughed she’d give him more credit on his trust account. He didn’t laugh. ‘But surely you’re not pinning any of this on Maya or Kadek?’

  He paused for a second too long. ‘Of course not.’

  She screwed up her face in what she hoped he would recognise as a look of loathing. ‘Not in a million years would they do this to me.’ Not content with calling her, in not so many words, a liar, now he was casting slurs on the honesty of the most scrupulously honest people she knew. He was right back there with the wounding words, one stab for her and two more on behalf of her friends.

  ‘Not them, but perhaps someone on the staff.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you were so stubborn,’ she said. ‘We’re victims here, me as much as you.’

  ‘Tenacious is how my game was described,’ he said. ‘I won’t give up until I find out who did this to us.’

  Did this to you, she thought. He didn’t seem to give a damn about the effect on her. She was surprised to realise how self-centred Max was. How gutted she was to realise it. When she thought back to it, this...this affair—because she now realised that was all it was—had been all about him. His need for privacy, his need to re-establish himself. He hadn’t uttered one word of comfort to her. All she wanted was for him to take her in his arms and tell her they were in this together and he was by her side. Wasn’t going to happen.

  ‘I told you trust is important to me. You don’t believe I’m telling the truth. Can you imagine how painful it is for me to be considered a liar? You don’t trust me. And I can’t trust you to support me. You deal with this in your own way. I’ll deal with it in mine.’

  She marched to the door outside to the courtyard. Hoped he might follow her. Realised that would be impossible as he didn’t have a stitch on. If there was indeed a photographer lurking, Max Conway naked after ‘lusty night with busty blonde’ would be the money shot of that photographer’s career.

  She couldn’t look back. If she managed to get on a plane tonight that might be the last time she saw Max and she didn’t want him to see the tears that she could no longer stop from cascading down her cheeks. Once again she had totally misjudged the true character of a man she had fallen for. She was disappointed in herself as much as him. She’d really thought he was everything she wanted.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MAX IMMEDIATELY REALISED he had made one of the worst mistakes of his life. Nikki had hit him with the news of the latest media outrage as he’d woken up from a new and improved version of the ‘Nikki in the blue dress’ dream. Nikki had been in the church wearing the blue dress but not for a wedding rehearsal. She’d been holding a baby in her arms and they were there for a christening. At first it was black-haired baby Putu with Nikki but then, in the way of dreams, the baby morphed into a blond-haired baby that looked just like Max’s baby photos. His baby.

  His and Nikki’s baby.

  In his dream, she’d held their baby out to him and he’d been overjoyed, which was odd as he wasn’t at all comfortable with holding babies. That was probably why he woke up. But he’d been only half awake. Awake enough to register the joy of finding Nikki naked in his bed, asleep enough to be about to murmur, Did we have a boy or a girl? Then her real-life expression had alerted him to the fact that something was very wrong.

  He’d overreacted big-time to what he’d seen on her phone. Thinking on his feet had stood him in good stead on the tennis court. But it had let him down badly here. Worse, he’d been unable to let go of the idea that Nikki had somehow contributed to the disaster through her journalist friend, Sammie. He’d just looked Sammie up to find what Nikki had said was true. She was a serious, award-winning journalist. Not only would she be unlikely to stoop to tabloid trash, he doubted she’d betray her friend. Nikki inspired loyalty from a group of long-term friends. He, having just asked her to be his girlfriend, had been guilty of stunning disloyalty in not believing her and supporting her. He’d virtually called her a liar.

  Fact was, he’d been so determined to pin down the nearest scapegoat, because he knew who was really at fault. Him. As soon as he’d seen that photo of him kissing Nikki in that laneway he’d known the whole disaster had been because of him. In spite of his past history with the tabloids he had been so enchanted with her he’d let down his guard. He had given in to the impulse to kiss her in that laneway even though there had been people about. And as such, he’d failed to protect her. It was that photo that had led to the others. To some creep stalking his lovely Nikki.

  The other fact was he simply was not used to thinking as a couple. What had Ellen accused him of being? ‘Max first, Max last, and Max in between.’ That might have been true then, when his entire focus had been on his game. But it shouldn’t be now. He’d gone into his default protect-his-reputation-at-all-costs mode as soon as he’d seen those scurrilous headlines—so like the headlines that had plagued him before. It was like when he’d got completely immersed in ‘the zone’ before a game. No one could reach him once he’d reached that state.

  But he wasn’t playing competitive tennis any more. He’d zoned out and been impervious to the common-sense explanations that Nikki had repeatedly tried to get him to accept. Worse, he had hurt her. Hurt the woman he had realised was vital to his future happiness. Possibly scuppered his chances to make any kind of life with her.

  He had to find her. Apologise. Explain. Make amends.

  He quickly showered and headed next door. She wasn’t there. Or was refusing to acknowledge him. He sounded the chimes. Shouted into the intercom. Even gave an impatient kick to the heavy carved wooden door. Which wasn’t a good idea when he was wearing flip-flops.

  Kadek approached from the boardwalk just in time to see him kick the door. ‘Sorry, Kadek, I’ll pay for any damage,’ Max said immediately.

  Kadek looked amused. ‘You’re more likely to damage your foot than that door,’ he said. Max could hardly look the guy in the eye. Kadek had invited him to dinner at his house the night Nikki had stayed in Sanur. And in return he had included him in his list of suspects. He had a lot of amends to make.


  ‘If you’re looking for Nikki, I saw her heading down to the beach. She said she was taking a kayak out.’ Thankfully Kadek didn’t mention any media reports. He’d see them soon enough, if he hadn’t already. Something good might come of it if it helped put Big Blue more on the map for potential guests.

  Wayan was on the beach when Max got there. He confirmed Nikki had taken out a kayak. Even though he had warned her that the currents might be unpredictable today. He pointed out to Max where she’d gone.

  Shading his eyes against the sun, Max could see Nikki in her red swim shirt and yellow life jacket paddling to the headland at the south end of the beach. What the hell was she doing? Around that headland were wild surf beaches, including the beach at the sunset restaurant. He recalled with a shudder how those waves had pounded against the limestone cliffs. Even in a special surf kayak it would be highly dangerous.

  Nikki. She seemed very small in a very big sea out there by herself. As he watched, she disappeared out of sight around the headland.

  Max ran to Wayan. ‘Let me have your boat,’ he said.

  Within minutes he was heading out after Nikki in Wayan’s jukung. As he neared the headland the currents came at him from all directions, buffeting the boat. Nobody should be in a kayak in these waters. Fear gripped his gut.

  He gunned the motor. The boat surged through the water. He had to get to her. Had to make sure she was safe. Had to tell her...had to tell her so many things. How sorry he was. How much he regretted the way he’d behaved, not just this morning, but since he’d been on the island. How he’d let his loathing of the media make him hide her, as if she were some guilty secret, instead of shouting to the world how lucky he was to have this beautiful, perfect woman in his life. How blind he’d been to place her behind his career plans instead of putting her first. First in everything. Most of all he had to tell her how much—Max stopped his crazy flow of thoughts as the truth hit him harder that the most powerful wave. How much he loved her.

 

‹ Prev