The Castaway Bride

by Kandy Shepherd

  How could people make up hurtful lies like that?

  All of a sudden it all seemed too much for Cristy. Why hadn’t Matt told her who he really was? Was there something ominous in his omission?

  She felt weary beyond measure, her legs barely supporting her. Suddenly she longed to be by herself and think about all that had happened in the last few days. And to absorb what she’d just learned about Matt.

  Perceptive Miriam immediately picked up on her change of mood. “Your room has been kept as you left it. All your stuff is there. C’mon. I’ll walk you up.”

  Cristy let the shower run and run. She washed and rinsed her hair three times to get rid of the salty tangles. Finally she toweled herself dry with thick, luxurious towels, smoothed on her favorite rose-scented body lotion, and wrapped herself in a fluffy robe.

  Back in civilization, she was surrounded by every luxury a five-star resort could provide. But, she realized with a sigh of longing, she’d rather be back in Seth’s primitive hut with Matt.

  Her hand hovered above the phone for a long time before she picked it up and asked reception to put her through to Matt Slade. But back came the reply that Mr. Slade was out in a four-wheel drive vehicle, assessing the damage the storm had caused to the island. Would she like to leave a message?

  Cristy put the phone back in its cradle only to start as it began to ring. Her heart pounded furiously and her mouth went dry. Maybe he was back already. Maybe he wanted to talk to her as much as she did to him.

  “Hello,” she said tentatively.

  She was greeted by hissing static and finally her mother’s voice. “Oh honey, you’re there. We’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “You… you knew?”

  “Of course we did, honey. We get CNN at the ashram,” said Heavenly Lotus Blossom, formerly known as Janet.

  “I made CNN?”

  “An American bride kidnapped during a tornado in the wilds of Australia? Of course it made the news. Thank the deity you’re okay. You are okay, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Cristy managed to get in before her mother went on.

  “Do you want us to fly on over? My poor baby. Kidnapped!”

  “It wasn’t a kidnapping, Mom. I don’t know how many times I’ve told people that.”

  “Well you didn’t tell us, honey, so don’t take that tone with me.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Cristy said meekly.

  “So what did happen?”

  “I ran away from my wedding.”

  “Well hallelujah. That was the best idea you’ve had all year. What happened with that stuffed shirt Howard?”

  “I caught him kissing Miriam.”

  Her mother’s squawk of outrage flew all the way from India. Cristy held the phone away from her ear until it subsided.

  “I didn’t know the boy had it in him,” her mother said, after she’d recovered herself.

  “Neither did I,” agreed Cristy, surprised to find herself giggling. “You were right Mom.” She paused, for the first time in twenty-eight years suddenly shy of her mother. “Getting married to someone you don’t love isn’t a good idea. I… I should have listened to you.”

  “That’s a change of tune,” said her mother. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that handsome hunk you were shipwrecked with, would it?”

  “Oh Mom,” wailed Cristy, “of course it doesn’t.”

  “Which means it does,” said Heavenly Lotus Blossom. “Is he there with you?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “So he doesn’t know how you feel?”

  Cristy held the phone away from her and stared at it. “How did you know that?”

  “Because I’m your mother, honey. If he doesn’t know, get out there and tell him. I have a feeling in my bones that he’s the one for you.”

  “How can you—?”

  “I just know.”

  “Because you’re my mother, right?”

  “Right,” said her mom and Cristy dissolved into laughter.

  She started to speak again but her mother’s voice broke up and the static noises took over again.

  Cristy put down the phone in its cradle. Yes, she wanted to tell Matt how she felt about him. Trouble was, now she was not so sure exactly what she did feel.

  The Matt she was cast away with wasn’t the Matt the rest of the world knew. Matt a billionaire?

  Curiously, she felt disappointed. She’d fallen in love with a man she thought was a bricklayer, an ordinary builder. Now it seemed he was a property tycoon and that would take some getting used to. Rather how Beauty must have felt when her beloved Beast had turned into a prince who was suddenly a stranger.

  So much for the butt-cleavage shorts and work boots. Matt the billionaire and Matt her island castaway might be two very different men. Before she went making declarations of love she knew she’d have to find out just how different.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The hotel manager told Cristy she’d find Mr. Slade briefing his team in the foyer of the hotel, near the atrium where the indoor water feature cascaded down the wall.

  But Cristy didn’t at first recognize Matt. In her mind’s eye she was seeking a rugged man with long hair wearing butt-hugging underwear and a T-shirt. Or nothing at all.

  Instead she had to look twice at the sophisticated executive with short, groomed hair, wearing tailored pants and an expensive shirt. He was addressing a group of staff and his every gesture emanated power and authority. Not Wall Street killer—this was a tropical island in Australia after all—but undeniably the boss.

  He wouldn’t be able to see her from where she stood. She stepped closer and heard him give instructions regarding the clean-up operation for the storm damage. His staff listened to him with respect and deference.

  This was Matthew J. Slade, head honcho of Taipan Slade International, owner of this island. Not Matt the small-time builder and sometime beach bum she’d imagined him to be. It was going to take some getting used to.

  Fascinated, she watched him as his people took his direction and then started to exit the room to carry out orders. He was familiar and yet frighteningly unfamiliar. With his hair cut so stylishly and wearing his CEO-type clothes he looked quite unlike the Matt she knew.

  With his lean, tanned face and green eyes, he was still heart-racingly handsome but in a subtly different way. Almost the difference between the natural waterfall back on the island, and the artfully contrived indoor waterfall that splashed discreetly nearby.

  Cristy watched him, tall and imposing, as he talked to his employees. She knew every inch of this man’s body intimately—had touched him, tasted him, loved him. But she was looking at a stranger. And, with a shiver, she realized she didn’t know what to say to him.

  Suddenly she felt paralyzed by shyness. Maybe she’d been wrong to seek him out. After all, they’d been back on Starlight for several hours but he’d made no effort to contact her—a fact that was undeniably hurtful after all they’d been through together.

  Standing there in the lobby, empty now save for a few passing guests and Matt speaking to his last remaining staff member, Cristy felt isolated, alienated. She’d sensed she could be someone special to Matt Slade but did she have a part to play in Matthew J. Slade’s life?

  She couldn’t bear this. It was too hard. She’d find a restaurant for lunch, seek out Miriam and Howard—anything rather than face this urbane stranger.

  But then, his last staff member gone, Matt turned to face her. Cristy twisted her hands together behind her back to hide her nervousness. She stepped toward him. Tentatively, she smiled.

  But Matt didn’t smile back. His eyes were shuttered and his mouth set in a rigid line that sent a shock of hurt and panic reverberating through her. What on earth had gone wrong between them?

  Matt sensed Cristy was there, her familiar scent of roses had alerted him to her presence. But as he turned to face her, he froze. He had to blink, refocus, readjust his mental image of her.

  Her scent was the same bu
t this was not his castaway Cristy with her hair tumbling over her bare shoulders, her ragged dress, her ill-fitting flip-flops. Laughing, uninhibited, generous Cristy.

  A wave of desolation swept over him. This was Miss Perfect resurrected, cool and elegant in a short red dress that shrieked designer, sky-high heels, her hair pulled back sleekly from her face, her luscious mouth slicked glossy red, her expression composed and watchful.

  A woman who was not, after all, Miss-Perfect-For-Him. Who had walked straight off that rescue helicopter and into the arms of her fiancé without a backward glance.

  At first he’d given her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she’d needed to talk about the cancelled wedding. Sort out any problems it had caused. But as soon as he’d been free of the press, and before he’d started work on the clean up, he’d checked to see if she was okay. To find her still with Templetton. So deep in conversation with him, she hadn’t even noticed him standing at the doorway.

  Hurt at the loss of his mermaid lover tore through him, made his gut jackknife with pain. “So,” he drawled, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “Back to civilization.”

  At his impersonal tone, hurt dimmed her eyes. “Civilization is good,” she replied, her tone forcedly casual. “Especially the hot shower.”

  He could see she found it difficult to meet his gaze and he felt a stab of concern for her. But then he remembered how gutted he’d felt as he drove around his storm-damaged island, unable to think about anything but her and how foolish he’d been to let down his guard and love her.

  He let the long, awkward moment of silence extend without breaking it.

  “I scarcely recognized you,” she said finally. “You got a hair cut. You shaved.” She held her hands firmly behind her back, as if bracing herself against this difficult conversation.

  He shrugged. “With my boat gone, there was no excuse not to get back to work.”

  “Was there much damage to the island from the storm?”

  “It wasn’t as bad as it looked,” he said. “Trees down, a roof off a building at the other end of the island. No one was hurt. That’s the important thing.”

  They were two strangers making superficial, polite conversation. The last time they’d spoken had been in lover’s whispers and murmurs of pleasure. The pain of the loss seared through him.

  There was no point in prolonging the agony. He had no wish to continue an acquaintance with Mrs. Howard Templetton. It would be torture to see her and know he could not have her. He looked pointedly at his watch. “Cristy, I—”

  “Lunch.” She forestalled his brush-off. “Do you want to have lunch with me?”

  “I’m meeting someone for lunch,” he replied.

  Again he felt bad at the hurt that crumpled her face. It hurt him to hurt her. But he could not endure the agony of seeing her with another man. He would rather have her out of his life altogether.

  “Oh,” she said. With a nervous gesture, she smoothed a wisp of hair back from her forehead. And he noticed her hand.

  “Where’s your ring?” He ground out the words.

  “I gave it back to Howard.”

  Matt’s throat seemed constricted, his tongue thick in his mouth. “You gave it back to Howard?”

  Cristy frowned. “Of course I did. You know I never had any intention of keeping it. The ring was his family heirloom. I didn’t dare take it off on the island in case I lost it.”

  “You didn’t intend to keep it?” His words sounded dull and stupid to his own ears.

  “Of course I didn’t.” Her eyes flashed. “Hey, what is this? I told you I wasn’t going to marry Howard.”

  “So why are you back together with him?”

  Her frown deepened. “Where has this come from? I’m not back with Howard. In fact he and Miriam—”

  “As soon as you got off the helicopter you were in his arms.”

  “He was there, a friend, to help me with that pack of media hyenas while you went off in the opposite direction.”

  Had he got it all wrong? “I went because I thought you—”

  “Were back with him? How could you think I’d want to be with him after all we’ve been to each other?”

  Matt remembered the jealousy that had burned through him at the sight of her in Howard’s arms. “You were doing a damn good imitation of long-lost lovers when I last saw you.”

  He was the one who had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but here he was accusing her. No wonder her face tightened with anger.

  “So he hugged me. Big deal. He was glad to see me alive and safe.”

  “That was all?”

  “How could you have thought anything else?”

  “I guess… I guess I don’t know you all that well.”

  Man, did that sound lame. What he wanted to say was that he knew her enough to need her in his life forever. But the way she was glaring at him he guessed she might not want to hear that right now.

  “And I certainly didn’t know you,” she said. “Why did you lie to me about who you were?”

  “Lie? I didn’t lie to you, I just—”

  “Just totally evaded telling me that you seem to own half of Australia. Let me think you were a simple, small-time builder.”

  “I didn’t exactly say that.”

  “Sure. All that stuff about the mines and your bricklaying days.” Her tone was scathing.

  “True, all true,” he said. Sudden fear overtook him that she might not forgive him for his evasion—though he’d done it for the best of reasons. “My bricklaying was the start of it all. Then I got lucky at the right time with small property deals and wild card stocks and it grew from there.” He remembered the reason he’d gotten his eagle tattoo. Inspiration to soar as high as he could.

  “All the way to Taipan Slade International.”

  He nodded.

  Her mouth twisted. “You really had me down as a gold-digger, didn’t you?”

  “No. But I’d been burned too many times before by women like Julia who were interested in me for my money. You seemed to like me well enough as a construction worker so I didn’t see the need to—”

  “To tell me the truth.”

  “I wanted to be sure you liked me for myself.”

  “So, it was some kind of test?”

  He ran his hands through his hair. This was going so wrong. If his Cristy from the island with her ragged dress and wild disheveled hair was there he would just take her in his arms and kiss her and make it like it was before.

  But the castaway bride had disappeared and he was standing opposite Miss Perfect. A woman so elegant, so finessed, that every man who walked by swiveled his head for a second look.

  A woman who seemed like someone he didn’t know.

  Matt’s reticence to talk about his feelings returned in full force. He couldn’t put into words what he wanted to say.

  “There was no test. It was good to know you liked me for me and not for what I was worth. I—”

  Danny chose just that moment to join them, sidling up behind Cristy. His brother’s eyes gleamed with interest as his gaze ran appreciatively over her.

  Damn! Matt signaled Danny with his eyes. Couldn’t his brother sense he wanted him to get lost?

  But Danny wasn’t going anywhere.

  Straight away Cristy knew the stranger must be Matt’s brother, Danny. He was younger, shorter and not nearly as handsome but there was a resemblance in the face. Slightly overweight, he was obviously a guy who liked the good life—a guy who would think it a joke to stock a yacht’s emergency bag with nothing but chocolates and condoms.

  He smiled—a charming, dazzling smile. “So you must be Cristy. I’m Danny,” he said, holding out a hand to her.

  She took it and was surprised that his grip was firm; she’d expected it to be weak and clammy.

  “I guessed,” she said as she dropped his hand, determined not to be too nice to him. This was the brother who had embezzled from Matt and cheated on him with Matt’s girlfriend. Matt might have
forgiven him but she never would.

  She looked at him critically—Danny seemed pleasant enough but he would never get to first base with her. How could a woman be interested in him after his wonderful older brother?

  “From that icy tone of voice I guess you know how out of order I’ve been,” said Danny.

  “Not at all,” she said, tight-lipped. “That’s between you and Matt.”

  How could she warm to him after all she’d heard about his relationship with Matt? No matter what, she would always be on Matt’s side.

  “Danny and I have sorted all that out now,” Matt said to her. “He’s made amends. I’ve dropped the charges. I can never stay mad at him for long.”

  He was so darn forgiving when it came to brother and policeman fishing buddy. But when it came to her, he wouldn’t forgive an innocent hug of friendship and gratitude between her and Howard.

  “As I said, that’s between the two of you,” she said stiffly.

  “Are you joining us for lunch?” asked Danny.

  “No,” she said

  “Yes,” said Matt.

  “I have to go—” she said.

  “I want you to stay,” he said.

  She looked helplessly at Matt, wanting to be with him and yet uncertain as to whether she was really welcome. She was uncomfortably aware of Danny looking speculatively from her to Matt and back again.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll join you for lunch.”

  She wished it could be just her and him—alone and maybe able to recapture some of the feeling they had shared on the island. Or had she imagined that magic between them?

  “Good,” said Danny. “I’ll bring you both up to date on how I’ve dealt with the press. I’ve packed them all off, big brother, with a promise of exclusives from you to People magazine and to the Today Show.”

  “You’ve what?” Matt exploded.

  Danny threw up his hands defensively. “Did I say you have to go through with it? I’ve got them off your back haven’t I?”

  His calculating gaze turned to Cristy. “And what deals did you make with the media? Someone as stunning as you could have cleaned up.”