The Girl he Never Noticed

by Lindsay Armstrong

  ‘Nothing,’ she breathed, and buried her face in his shoulder.

  They had two more days on Leilani.

  They moved the next morning to an anchorage protected from the strong winds predicted—this time to a rocky bay with turquoise waters and its own reef.

  They swam and fished. They went ashore in the rubber dinghy and climbed to a saddle between the hills, from where they could see a panoramic view of the Whitsundays. They snorkelled over the coral. They paddled the light portable canoes Leilani carried.

  Liz almost lived in her ice-blue bikini. She wore a borrowed baseball cap when they streaked across the water in the dinghy. She donned a long-sleeved white blouse as protection against the sun, and wore her sunhat on the boat. She reserved her maxi-dress for the evening.

  The one thing they didn’t do was discuss marriage again.

  It puzzled Liz—from both their points of view. Her unwitting reluctance to bring the subject up, and whatever reason Cam had for not doing so either. In fact a couple of times she caught him watching her with a faint frown in his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite make her out. On both occasions she felt a little tremor of unease. But then he’d be such a charismatic companion she’d forget the unease and simply enjoy being with him on his beautiful boat.

  One thing she particularly enjoyed was seeing him relax, and the feeling that had already occurred to her came alive in her again—Cam Hillier needed rescuing from himself. Could she do it on a permanent basis? Could she find the key to making a life with him that would be satisfying enough to ease him from the stratosphere he inhabited and which she had the strong feeling he was growing to hate?

  She had to smile dryly at the thought, however. Who was to say her demons would ever let her go enough to be able to share any kind of a life with him?

  And then it all came apart at the seams…

  He said to her, apropos of nothing, ‘There’s no one else anchored here today.’

  They were lying on loungers on the back deck. Liz looked around. ‘So there isn’t.’ Then she sat up with a faint frown. ‘You said that with a peculiar sort of significance.’

  He moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. ‘I have this fantasy.’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose you could say it involves mermaids.’

  Liz studied him, but he was looking out over the water. ‘Go on. What has that to do with no one else being here?’

  ‘We could skinny-dip.’

  She took a breath. ‘But we’re not mermaids—or mermen,’ she pointed out.

  ‘All the better, really.’

  ‘Cam—’ She didn’t go on.

  ‘Liz?’ He waited a moment. ‘The problem is—my problem is—I’d love to see your naked body in the water.’

  Liz looked down at herself. ‘It’s not a hugely camouflaging bikini.’

  ‘Still…’

  She looked out over the water. It looked incredibly inviting as it sparkled under a clear sky and a hot sun. Why not?

  She rose noiselessly, stepped out of her bikini, and climbed down to the duckboard where she dived into the water before Cam had a chance even to get to his feet.

  ‘Come in,’ she called when she surfaced. ‘It feels wonderful.’

  It did, she thought as she floated on her back, but not as wonderful as when he dived in beside her and took her in his arms.

  ‘Good thinking?’ he asked, all sleek and wet and tanned, and strong and quite naked.

  ‘Brilliant thinking,’ she conceded. ‘I feel like a siren,’ she confessed as she lay back in the water across his arm.

  ‘You look like one.’ He drew his free hand across the tips of her breasts, then put his hands around her waist and lifted her up. She laughed down at him with her hands on his shoulders as she dripped all over him. Then she broke free and swam away from him.

  ‘You swim like a fish,’ he called when he caught up with her. ‘And you make love like a siren—come back to the boat.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Yes, now,’ he said definitely.

  Liz laughed, but she changed direction obediently and swam for the boat.

  He followed her up the ladder, and when they reached the deck he picked her up and carried her, dripping wet, down to his stateroom, where he laid her on the bed.

  ‘Cam,’ she protested, ‘we’re making a mess.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ he growled as he lay down beside her and took her in his arms. ‘This—what I desperately want to do with you—is not for public consumption.’

  ‘There was no one there—and it was your idea anyway.’

  ‘Perhaps—but not this. There. Comfortable?’ he asked as he rolled her on top of him.

  Liz took several urgent breaths, and her voice wasn’t quite steady as he cradled her hips and moved against her. ‘I don’t know if that’s the right word for it. It’s…’ She paused and bit her bottom lip. ‘Sensational,’ she breathed.

  He withdrew his hands from her hips and ran them through her hair, causing a shower of droplets. They both laughed, then sobered abruptly as they began to kiss each other and writhe against each other with desperate need.

  It was a swift release, that brought them back to earth gasping. Liz, at least, was stunned at the force of the need that had overtaken them. She was still breathing raggedly as they lay side by side, holding each other close.

  ‘Where did th-that come from?’ she asked unsteadily as she pulled up the sheet.

  He smoothed her hair. ‘You. Being a siren.’

  ‘Not you? Being a merman?’

  ‘I don’t think there is such a thing.’

  ‘All the same, do you really mean that? About me being a siren? It’s the second time you’ve—well, not accused me of it, but something—’ she hesitated ‘—something similar.’

  She felt the movement as he shrugged, but he said nothing. In fact she got the feeling he was somewhat preoccupied. She got the feeling from the way he was watching her that he was waiting for something…

  She pushed herself up and rested her elbow on the pillow, her head on her hand. ‘Is something wrong?’ She slipped her fingertips over the smooth skin of his shoulder.

  He stared expressionlessly into her eyes, then he said, ‘You’re right. We have made a mess. Let’s strip the bed and remake it. But have a shower first.’ He threw back the sheet and got up.

  Liz hesitated, feeling as if she’d stepped into a minefield. She studied his long, strong back for a moment as he reached into a cupboard for clothes. Then, with a mental shake of her head, she got up in a few quick movements and slipped past him into her stateroom, with its en-suite shower. She closed the door—something she wouldn’t usually have done.

  He didn’t take issue with it.

  They remade the bed in silence.

  Liz had put on a pair of yellow shorts with a cream blouse and tied her hair back. He’d also donned shorts, and a black T-shirt. The tension that lay between them was palpable.

  How? Why? Liz wondered.

  She didn’t get the opportunity to answer either of those questions as his phone rang—it was never far away from him. It was Roger, and when Cam clicked it off she knew from his expression and the few terse questions he’d posed that it was something serious.

  She clutched her throat. ‘Scout?’ she whispered.

  ‘Liz, no. She’s fine. So is Archie. But Mrs Preston had been hospitalised with heart problems. I made her promise to get a check-up when you said you were worried about her.’

  Liz’s hand fell away. ‘Oh,’ she breathed, in a mixture of intense relief and concern.

  ‘There’s more. Daisy’s got the flu.’

  ‘Oh, no! So who…?’

  ‘Your mother has taken command, with the help of Bob’s wife, but I think we should go back as soon as we can.’

  ‘Of course.’ Liz looked around a little helplessly. ‘But how soon can that be?’

  He was already on his mobile. ‘Roger’s organising a flight from Hamilton. Hello, Rob?’ he said into the ph
one. ‘Listen, mate, I need to get home ASAP. Organise a chopper to pick us up off Whitehaven Beach. Come on it yourself, and you can sail Leilani back to Hamilton.’

  Liz’s mouth had fallen open at these instructions. She closed it but got no chance to comment.

  ‘OK,’ Cam said, ‘let’s up anchor. It’ll take us about half an hour to get to Whitehaven.’

  ‘What if there are no helicopters available?’

  He looked at her, as if to say, You didn’t really say that, did you? ‘Then he’ll buy one.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Liz clicked her tongue. ‘You don’t expect me to believe that?’

  ‘Believe it or not, Ms Montrose, it’s something I have done before.’ He paused and looked around. ‘Would you mind packing for both of us?’

  Liz stared at him, but she recognised this Cam Hillier, and she turned away, saying very quietly, ‘Not at all.’

  She didn’t see him hesitate, his gaze on her back, or see his mouth harden just before he left the stateroom.

  Liz stood in the same spot for several minutes.

  She heard the powerful motors fire up. She heard above that the whine of the electric winch and the rattle of the anchor chain as it came up. All sounds she knew now.

  She felt the vibration beneath her feet change slightly as he engaged the gears and the boat got underway…

  She licked a couple of tears from her upper lip—because something had gone terribly wrong and she had no idea what it was. Ms Montrose, she thought. Had she gone back to that? Why had she gone back to that?

  Why this almost insane rush to get home? Yes, when he made up his mind to do something he often did it at a hundred miles an hour—and it wasn’t that she didn’t want to get home as soon as possible—but this?

  Wouldn’t they be alone together any more? What about that fierce lovemaking? Where did that fit in?

  She buried her face in her hands.

  They got back to Yewarra after dark that same evening.

  Roger had organised a flight for them on a private jet from Hamilton Island with a business associate of Cam’s. The associate was on the flight, so there’d been no chance of any personal conversation. And they’d flown from Sydney to Yewarra on the company helicopter—ditto no personal conversation.

  Liz was unsure whether it had been fortuitous or otherwise.

  Both Scout and Archie were already in bed and asleep, but Mary Montrose was there to greet them. And she had assurances that Daisy was resting comfortably and so was Mrs Preston, although she was still in hospital.

  Liz hugged her mother and Cam shook her hand.

  ‘Thanks so much for stepping into the breach, Mrs Montrose,’ he said to her, and Liz could see her mother blossoming beneath his sheer charm. ‘I hope you’ve moved into the house?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mary said, ‘along with Scout. Although only into the nursery wing. I guess you’ll stay there too?’ she said to Liz.

  ‘Uh—actually,’ Cam said, ‘Liz and I have some news for you. We’ve agreed to get married.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘HOW COULD YOU?’

  They were in his study with the door closed. It was a windy night, and she could hear trees tossing their branches and leaves outside, as well as occasional rumbles of distant thunder

  Liz was stormy-eyed and incredulous, despite the fact that her mother had greeted Cam’s news with effusive enthusiasm before faltering to an anxious silence as she’d taken in her daughter’s expression.

  Then she’d said, ‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ and gone away towards the nursery wing.

  ‘It’s what you told me to do,’ he countered, lying back in his chair behind the desk. ‘“Don’t take any nonsense from me,”’ he quoted. ‘“I can be stubborn for stubborn’s sake.” Remember, Liz?’ He raised a sardonic eyebrow at her and picked up his drink—he’d stopped to pour them both a brandy on their way down to the study.

  Despite the drink, Liz couldn’t help feeling that to be back in his study, on the opposite side of his desk from him, was taking them straight back to an employer/employee relationship, and it hurt her dreadfully.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with my memory,’ she said helplessly, then took a breath to compose herself. ‘I also remember—not that many hours ago—being all of a sudden being frozen out after we’d slept together as if we’d never get enough of each other. The last thing I expected after that was to be told I planned to marry you.’

  ‘But you do, don’t you, Liz? Because of Scout.’

  Liz paled. ‘But you knew,’ she whispered. ‘You yourself told me that you needed a mother for Archie and I needed security for Scout.’

  He got up abruptly and carried his glass over to the paintings on the wall. He stared at one in particular—the painting of a trawler with the name of Miss Miranda. ‘I didn’t know I was going to feel like this.’

  She stared at him. He was gazing at the picture with one hand shoved in his pocket and tension stamped into every line of his body. Even his expression was drawn with new lines she’d never seen before.

  ‘Like what?’ she queried huskily.

  He turned to her at last. ‘As if I’ve got my just desserts. As if after playing the field—’ his lips twisted with self-directed mockery ‘—after having a charmed life where women were concerned, being able to enjoy them without any deep commitment, I’ve finally fallen for one I can’t have.’

  Her eyes grew huge and her lips parted in astonishment. ‘C-can’t have?’ she stammered.

  He smiled briefly, and it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You’re doing it again, Liz. Repeating things.’

  ‘Only because I can’t believe you said that. You have—we have—I don’t know how much more you could want.’ Tears of confusion and desperation beaded her lashes.

  He came back and sat down opposite her. ‘I thought it would be enough to have you on any terms, Liz. That’s why I lured you into the job up here at Yewarra. That’s why—’ he gestured ‘—I played on your insecurity over Scout. Only to discover that when you agreed to marry me you had Scout on your mind, not me. I didn’t want that.’

  She gasped, and her mind flew back to the first time they’d made love—to their first night on the boat and the nightmare she’d had. Flew back to his initial resistance that she, in her unwisdom, had not given enough thought to.

  ‘You should have told me this then.’

  ‘I nearly did. I did tell you I wasn’t made of steel,’ he said dryly. ‘I didn’t seem able to also admit that I was a fool—an incredible fool—not to know what had happened to me.’

  ‘What about this morning? Was it only this morning?’ she breathed. ‘It seems like an eon ago.’

  ‘This morning?’ he repeated. ‘What I really wanted this morning was to hear you say you loved me madly, in a way that I could believe it.’

  Liz let out a long, slow breath. ‘What I don’t understand now is why you told my mother we were planning to marry.’

  He drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘That was a devil riding me. But I am prepared to give you the protection of my name if you feel it will safeguard Scout from her father. It’ll be a marriage of convenience, though.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Is that what you think I want?’ she whispered, paper-pale now.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t it?’

  Her lips trembled, and she got slowly to her feet as every fibre of her being shouted at her to deny the charge. Why couldn’t she say no? It’s not what I want. Why couldn’t she tell him she’d fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with him?

  Because she had no proof? Because she saw now in hindsight that the way things had played out it did look as if she’d been angling for marriage because of Scout?

  Because she was still unable to bare her soul to any man?

  ‘No, it’s not what I want,’ she said, barely audibly. ‘Cam.’ She swallowed. ‘It’s over. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. It—it could never have worked between us. Too many issues.’ She shook her
head as a couple of tears coursed down her cheeks. ‘I told you once you’d be mad to want to get involved with me. I was right. Not that I blame you for the mess I…I am.’ She turned away, then turned back. ‘Please,’ she begged, ‘just let me go.’

  ‘Liz—’ he said harshly, but she fled out of the study.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘WHERE’S ARCHIE?‘ Scout said plaintively. ‘And where’s ‘Nonah’s puppy? Why can’t I play with them any more?’ She looked around her grandmother’s flat discontentedly. ‘I don’t like this place.’

  Liz sighed inwardly.

  It was three weeks since they’d left Yewarra—a heart-wrenching move if ever there’d been one, as she’d thought at the time.

  She could still see in her mind’s eye Archie, standing at the dolphin fountain waving goodbye, looking pale and confused. She could still see Cam, standing beside him but not waving, as she’d driven Scout and her mother away.

  She could still remember every word of the stilted last interview she’d had with Cam, during which he’d insisted on paying her three-month contract out.

  She could particularly recall the almost irresistible urge she’d had to throw herself into his arms and beg him to take her on any terms, even if she was unable to tell him what he wanted to hear. She closed her eyes in pain every time she thought of it…

  She couldn’t get out of her mind the thought of Cam Hillier needing help to stabilise his life and how she was too emotionally crippled to give it to him.

  In the three weeks since that parting she’d lost weight, she’d slept little, and she’d done battle with herself over and over. Had she walked away from a man who loved her for no good reason? On the other hand, would he ever trust her?

  Her mother had been an absolute stalwart, doing her very best to make the dislocation more bearable for both her and Scout, but Liz knew she would have to make some changes. She couldn’t go on living with her mother in the way she had. Mary was obviously very close to her new beau, Martin. She was also knee-deep in concert costumes.