THIRTY-FIVE
True to his word, Jason returned wearing a pair of board shorts. Xan felt unusually self-conscious in her bikini. The memory of Vanessa Fisher was still clear in her mind, and Xan came up short when compared to the goddess of love.
Not that she was after love here, Xan told herself. She wanted to share her love of the reef with Jason, that's all. Better that his eyes were on the fish and not her boobs, anyway.
On the shore, his gaze was fixed on her face. His whole face lit up like a kid at Christmas when she held out his mask.
She explained what to do if his mask or snorkel filled with water, as she would for any novice, and Jason nodded gravely. For once, he seemed happy to do as he was told.
Together, they knelt in the shallows, letting him get accustomed to breathing through the snorkel.
He let out a shout and pointed at something, raising his head so the top of his snorkel dipped below the surface. While he spluttered, the turtle that had attracted his attention paddled into deeper water, out of sight. There would be more, Xan knew, but she thumped Jason on the back and waited for him to recover so they could set off after the turtle.
High tide was an hour away, so the lagoon was still as a millpond, ruffled by the slight breeze, but otherwise calm. The perfect time for a beginning snorkel. Xan had considered bringing fins, but with no current to speak of, she'd decided against it. Jason was a confident swimmer. The mask and snorkel were enough to get used to on this first trip. Another time, if they spent some time on the southern reefs, when the tide was on the way out, they could try a more strenuous swim with fins.
Observing Jason's progress now, she knew she'd made the right decision. He shouted and pointed to something else, dunking his head under the water again. This time, he trod water while he cleared his snorkel, looking to Xan for what to do next.
"If you see something you want to share, just pat my arm and point. Most creatures don't like a lot of noise. It scares them away. And you'll see more if you're not splashing around with your snorkel on the surface all the time," she said gently.
Jason nodded.
"Shall we go?" Xan pointed in the direction of the first coral bombie, home to anemones and their resident striped anemonefish.
Jason set off slowly, assuming the same leisurely pace he'd used while swimming naked past her window this morning. Xan kept pace with him this time – unlike this morning, when only her eyes had followed him. It had been envy and longing she'd felt. Not for him. Of course not. She'd wanted to swim, but known she wouldn't have time for that luxury until after Angel's visit. That made this swim an added bonus, hours earlier than expected.
Xan glimpsed a flipper on the far side of the coral – Jason's elusive turtle, perhaps. She tapped his shoulder, pointing the way, and found him following her lead.
Rounding the bombie, a tumbled mass of calcified coral that stretched several metres from the sea floor almost to the surface, Xan waited for Jason to see her favourite coral garden.
He gurgled something and pointed, but his eyes widened further behind his mask as he saw more and more. Anemones drifted lazily as striped black and white fish wove between the hydra-like fronds. A couple of bright blue parrotfish rasped their rosy beaks across the hard coral, dislodging sand in their search for food. A small green turtle, perhaps the size of a dinner plate with flippers, floating above the bombie, like the strangest angel she'd ever seen on a Christmas tree.
Xan glimpsed movement in the shadows of a crevice in the side of the coral, but she was too slow to see if it was a fish or an eel. Or maybe even a lobster, which grew quite large in these protected waters, where fishing wasn't allowed. Well, except for the odd invasive shark.
Jason grabbed her arm, gesturing furiously with his free hand at something in the deeper water.
Xan peered in the direction he indicated. Ah, the bulky shadow ahead could only be the grandfather groper, a giant, blue Queensland groper that probably weighed more than she did. Not that he would ever know the indignity of a fishing hook, or a set of weighing scales, while he ruled the lagoon. He wasn't afraid of humans, either, so Xan pulled Jason toward the huge fish.
He hung back a little, reluctant to get too close, so Xan did something she normally wouldn't. She dropped down, right in the fish's path, removed her snorkel and pursed her lips at the fish.
Not that she wanted to kiss the animal's thick, blubbery lips, but Xan was pretty sure she wasn't the fish's type, either. Jason got the message when the fish simply swam by her, so close his scales brushed her skin: despite his size, this fish was nothing to fear.
Jason circled the groper for a few minutes, before Xan led him away through the shark nursery. There weren't many sharks in there now – the tiger shark had eaten too many of the babies, and the next generation of black-tipped reef sharks wouldn't be born for months yet. The sheltered cove was empty but for a few small rays, which flew from their shallow, sandy hiding spots as Xan approached.
Something brushed against her chest, leaving a mild sting, and Xan waved her hand to encourage whatever it was to swim away from her. The last thing she needed was one of the anemone branches stuck in her bikini again. That thing had left welts behind that took days to heal.
Where to next, she wondered. There were more turtles on the other side of the cove, grazing the algae that grew in the shallows. Jason might like more turtles, so she cut across the cove, gesturing for him to follow.
Yearling sharks swam below them in the deeper water, fish as long as her arm and probably about as round, too. Barbeque sized, she'd heard recreational fishermen call them, and they were right. Scaled and gutted, you could fit a whole black-tipped reef shark yearling, wrapped in foil, lengthwise on a barbeque grill. Not that she intended to tell Jason that. Like all the other life in the lagoon, these sharks were protected.
Sure enough, there were turtles aplenty having their mid-morning munch, including a scarred leatherback that had to be older than she was, it was so big. She could've sat on the creature's shell with room to spare.
They must have spent at least half an hour drifting through the algae meadow. Jason was fascinated by the turtles, and Xan didn't want to rush him.
Her lower back gave a sudden twinge and Xan rubbed at it absently. Perhaps she shouldn't have helped move the new furniture into Villa Maxima yesterday, but she'd wanted their most luxurious villa to look perfect, and that couch had been half a metre off where it belonged. The pain became more insistent and Xan wondered if maybe it was that time of the month again. It didn't usually hurt this much, though, or come on so suddenly.
Reluctantly, she told Jason they should start heading in.
He grinned and pulled out his mouthpiece. "Race you back," he suggested.
Actually, that might not be a bad idea, she thought, as she set off across the lagoon. Her tummy twisted, and for a moment Xan thought she was going to be sick. Not in the lagoon. Not now! Gritting her teeth, she concentrated on her strokes, working with a powerful kick to carry her to shore where she could throw up all over the sand if she needed to.
She heard Jason call something from behind her, but Xan didn't slow. He wouldn't distract her from her course. She needed to reach the shore.
Xan's chest felt like there was a steel band wrapped around her ribs, not letting her breathe, even as she dragged air in through her snorkel. She must be unfit, from not swimming for a few weeks through the bad weather, she decided, pushing herself to go faster. Jason hadn't swum for about as long, so he was no fitter than she. She could still win this.
Her knees grazed sand, and Xan leaped to her feet, stumbling as the water slowed her strides up the beach. Her chest hurt even more now, and her back felt like someone had hit her with a cattle prod, or stabbed her, maybe. Xan fell face-first on the sand, gritting her teeth against the pain. Why wouldn't it go away?
Water splashed against her skin, every droplet like a rubber bullet, painful but bouncing off without penetrating. She wanted to say someth
ing, but couldn't seem to unlock her jaw to get the words out.
"Xan! Xanthe! Are you okay?" Jason panicked.
She squeezed her eyes shut as he touched her, grasping her shoulders to flip her over onto her back. The slight impact as her back hit the sand jolted her teeth apart, and a pitiful moan escaped.
For a moment, she saw Jason's face, his mouth and eyes wide with horror. "I'll go get help," he said.
Gone. He was gone.
Her back hurt. Her chest hurt. Every damn muscle in her body hurt. She'd heard about pain scales, where one was barely hurting and ten was practically unbearable. Childbirth was meant to be a ten. She wondered what happened if you hit eleven. Was that when you died? Your body just shut down, unable to process the pain, so it gave you relief the only way it could.
That'd be real nice, right now. If someone would just switch off the electric current running through her whole body, that would be wonderful.
A new face swam into view. Angel. The last person Xan wanted to see right know, while she was lying helpless on a beach. Hardly the capable hotel manager she was supposed to be.
"Can you hear me?" Angel asked.
"Yes," Xan managed to whisper.
"Where does it hurt?"
"Ev...everywhere. Chest. Can't...breathe," Xan gasped.
"There's something here, on her chest. Caught under her bikini top. I'll get it out. You get that first aid kit open."
Sunlight glinted on metal. A knife. A huge, sharp knife that looked like a more lethal version of Xan's diving knife. The blade came down, scraping across her skin.
Xan whimpered. Would it hurt less if the girl stabbed her? At least the pain would stop.
"Get the Flying Doctors out here!" Angel bellowed. "Tell them I need fentanyl, oxygen and we needed it fifteen minutes ago. Jason, do you want her to die or not?" A sharp prick seared Xan's arm.
Xan didn't care any more. Darkness enveloped her, dragging her down, and it was good.
THIRTY-SIX
Xan woke to the worst hangover she'd ever known. Worse, she couldn't remember drinking anything. And it wasn't just her head aching, either – her whole body hurt, like she'd been hit by a road train. Except there weren't any vehicles at Romance Island Resort, unless you counted the electric golf cart Maintenance now shared with Housekeeping. Xan definitely hadn't left the island – she had too much to do in preparation for that woman's wedding. The one who wanted to dance on top of the lagoon.
The crazy woman who'd also pulled a knife on her, Xan remembered now. Which would make her either dead or in hospital. She forced her eyes open and took a look around. Beeping machinery. Foam panelled ceiling with old-school institutional fluorescent strip lighting, above a single bed that she'd been pinned to with bedsheets tucked in so tightly there would be no escape. And in the visitor chair beside her...
"Stay away from me," Xan croaked at Angel.
The girl raised her eyebrows. "Most of my patients thank me for saving their life."
Patience. Bridezilla didn't have any patience. She wanted to build over the lagoon.
Angel tapped a name badge clipped to her shirt. Dr Alana Miller, it read.
A thought niggled in the back of Xan's mind. Yes, the girl had been introduced to her by that name, not Angel. "Not a real doctor," Xan rasped.
Angel...Alana...whoever she was, poured a cup of water from the jug on the table and handed it to Xan. "I am, and even Jason knows it. He might have panicked when you collapsed, but he came straight to me. He grabbed my arm and dragged me halfway across your island, too. I honestly think he would have carried me if I hadn't come to your assistance. Definitely not normal behaviour for him, but then...he's been different since he met you, Jo said, so I shouldn't be surprised. He even pulled some strings in the Health Department and got me transferred up here from Fiona Stanley Hospital, just to take care of you. As though the doctors here can't handle an irukandji sting."
"A what?" The word sounded vaguely familiar, but Xan's head was too fuzzy to make sense of it.
"A tiny box jellyfish. About this big." She held her finger and thumb an inch apart. "It had hitched a ride in your bikini top, splaying its tentacles over your heart. And speaking of your heart, it appears to be fine, despite some tachycardia overnight. Your blood pressure's back to normal, too. In fact, if you don't develop any further complications, you could be home within the week, making plans to drain the lagoon and turn it into tennis courts."
Xan drained her cup. "You're not touching the lagoon," she growled.
"That was my poor attempt at a joke, I'm afraid." The doctor tossed the empty cup in the rubbish bin. "I said you'd want to fill the lagoon in when you found out you'd nearly been killed by one of the resident jellyfish, but Jason said you wouldn't want it changed, no matter how many killer jellyfish lived there. For once, I guess he was right."
"They don't live there," Xan insisted. "We swim in that water every day. We never saw any jellyfish."
Angel shrugged. "Well, I know I did. The one that stung you. Good thing I had my knife on me – if I'd touched it, I'd probably be in the bed next to you. The doctors here sent it down to the museum in Perth to see if the staff there can identify the species. Not that we need to know that to treat you, thank goodness. It's not like a snake – we don't have an antivenin for these things. Wish we did. Jason might not have been pacing the corridors all night, upsetting all the staff."
Xan fixed her gaze on Angel. "I don't believe you. Jason hates hospitals. He'd rather jump out of a helicopter than be here."
Angel shrugged. "I didn't believe it either. I've only seen him willingly enter a hospital once before, and even then he didn't stay very long. Now, I can't get him to leave."
"Where is he now, then?" Xan asked.
"Probably getting more coffee, or using the bathroom. He's been stomping up and down the corridor outside your room, waiting for me to tell him you're awake."
If he cared so much, why wasn't he here?
Angel coughed. "Ah, I think I hear his footsteps again. He'll stick his head in shortly. You might want to cover that up." She pointed at the cannula taped to Xan's wrist with a blood-spotted dressing.
Xan blinked at her arm for a moment before she remembered why. "Oh, of course. Don't want him fainting in here." She stuck her arm under the sheet, then looked up to find Angel staring at her in surprise. "What?"
"He told you. He doesn't like anyone knowing, except, well, family." Angel coughed again. "Well, that explains a lot." She rose. "I'll go put him out of his misery." She crossed the room and cracked open the door. "She's awake, Jason, and asking for you."
Xan opened her mouth to contradict her, but she was distracted by Jason bursting into the room. He beamed at her for a moment before he grabbed Angel around the waist and lifted her off her feet in a crushing hug.
Angel struggled free, shoving him away much like Xan might have. The knife didn't make an appearance at all. "I'll leave you two alone for a bit, okay?" Straightening her clothes, the grumpy girl left.
Jason didn't seem to notice, or to care. "You're all right!" He dived forward to hug Xan, too, though a lot more carefully than his hug with Angel. "I was so scared."
Xan's heart rate picked up, and was amplified by the beeping machinery behind her. It was the surprise at Jason's hug, she told herself fiercely. Not because she enjoyed being cuddled by her boss. Even if he had sort of saved her life.
Jason threw himself in the visitor's chair. "Jo said she'd kill me if you didn't wake up. She's the one who sent the flowers." He waved at a display of orchids beside the water jug. "I'd have gotten you flowers, too, but I didn't know what you like."
Nor did she, really. No one had ever bought Xan flowers. And they probably never would. Jason's worry wasn't for her so much as his own precious skin – if his sister said she'd kill him. Good thing she hadn't enjoyed being in his arms, then, seeing as the contact meant nothing to him.
"All my favourite plants grow in the ocean, and they don't re
ally have flowers," Xan said.
"I can see why. That coral looked so cool yesterday. All those colours, and the turtles! I can't wait to go snorkelling with you again." Jason's smile slowly faded as his brain caught up with his mouth. "When you're okay and if there aren't any more killer jellyfish in the lagoon, that is," he added.
Xan wanted to know about the killer jellyfish situation, too, before she went for another swim. "Yeah. I guess you'll be giving up your morning swims now, too, after that."
"Uh, yeah. Yeah," Jason replied, looking like his thoughts were back at the resort. Definitely not in the hospital room, anyway.
Xan hid her smile. If she could be anywhere else, she would be, too.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Jason couldn't take his eyes off her. He'd nearly lost her. Fuck it, she'd nearly died. He couldn't lose Xanthe. Couldn't. She was the only friend he had. They'd survived a fucking fire together. And that cyclone. Losing her to a fucking jellyfish smaller than his thumb? Fuck that. He'd begged Angel to help her, and even that hadn't seemed like enough until now. Now, that Xan was finally awake and talking and looking at him like he'd lost his mind.
Maybe he had, a bit. Without her.
That's why he couldn't lose her.
"Marry me," he said, or he tried to, but the words didn't come out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Marry me."
"What?"
He seized her hand, the one on top of the sheet. The other one was still tucked into bed at her side. "Marry me, Xanthe."
She eased her fingers free and shook her head. "Don't be silly."
"I've never been more serious in my life," he replied, wishing he'd brought the ring. That one the pearl farm's jeweller had crafted just for her. Then she'd know how serious he was.
"But you're still being silly. I've told you, you don't need to bring a wife to your friend's wedding. I've already agreed to go with you. Just because she thinks there's something going on between us when there isn't, doesn't mean you have to marry someone when you don't want to."
The Rock Star's Wedding Page 13