Ted grinned at her and nodded. Beneath the table, he was practically rubbing his hands together with glee. Sweetheart and darling, all in a few sentences, it definitely looked like he'd be seeing some bedroom activity, despite her menses having come early, when he got Shelly back to the bungalow.
Guy clenched his fists. Mr. Pearson, indeed. It was like that, was it? And husband or not, he didn't like the way the good-looking bastard touched her.
"So.” Sue leaned forward, her cleavage almost spilling out of the bodice of her low-cut dress. “How long have you guys been married, then?"
Shelly smiled politely. She didn't like the woman. “Oh, we're not married yet."
"Really, how come Teddy here just said?"
Teddy? Shelly frowned, her dislike for the woman quadrupling.
Ted turned to Sue, his ash-blonde hair seeming very bright in the glow of the candles. “Well you see, I have asked Shelly to be my bride and she has done me the very great honor of accepting."
Shelly gaped at him, no one from his casual manner would ever have guessed that the reason they weren't already married was because he'd fucked her bridesmaid. Then she remembered that he always had been a good liar.
Sue was suddenly jealous. Not a single man had ever asked her to marry him, not once in her thirty years. She pouted. Okay, the blonde woman wasn't ugly. Perhaps even pretty, but she still was a far way away from being stunning. She cast a glance at her white silk blouse and knee-length skirt. She was a real classy dame but everyone knew they were cold in bed. The blonde guy was attractive; she toyed with the idea of having some fun with him. She'd warm up his bed. Looking into his sparkling grey eyes, Sue was sure he'd accept her offer, too. She knew another player when she saw one.
Shelly's nerves couldn't take anymore. Between the cold glances from the redhead, Ted's silly jokes and Guy's permanent dark scowl, she drained her glass and stood to her feet. “I have another headache, sweetheart. I'm going to take a walk."
Ted stood, seeing his chance of getting in her panties later, slipping away. “I'll come with you."
"No, stay here.” Shelly shook her head and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “You haven't eaten anything."
Less than a minute later, she congratulated herself on how steady and believable her voice had sounded. She was walking along the beach, through the smooth, thick, sand that sucked at her feet and made her calves ache, when a hand on her elbow suddenly stopped her.
To Guy's surprise, she didn't so much as blink or make any move that might be construed as retreat. “You startled me."
He shoved his hands down deeply into his pockets. “I didn't mean to. I called, but you never heard."
Shelly refused to look at him. “I've got things on my mind."
"Us?” he asked softly.
"No.” She lied.
She could feel his warm breath on her ear and she had to fight an urge not to lean back against him. As much to escape from herself as from him, she hurried away along the beach.
"It's getting close to dinnertime. Are you hungry?” he called after her.
Shelly gave him a guarded look. “Famished,” she admitted. “I wasn't hungry back there."
"One too many men at the dinner table?” he asked, with imperturbable good humor.
Shelly suddenly wanted to hit him. Instead, she sighed. “Something like that,” she replied, standing close to him under the great dome of starlit-sky.
Guy suggested, “Let's get a table at Scrumpy Jack's. We can talk this out over crab cakes."
* * * *
Scrumpy Jack's was nearly deserted, both on and off-season. It was one of those rare jewels that only the locals knew about and the tourists hadn't discovered yet. They sat by the window.
Doing his best to ignore the pent-up sexual energy between them, Guy ordered two cold crab platters piled high with salad and little cups of warm seaweed soup on the side.
Shelly poured a stream of vinaigrette over her salad and dug in hungrily. Guy ate more slowly than usual, watching her. He was aware of her thin ankles crossed beneath the table, visible through the space between his chair and the tabletop. When he lifted his eyes, they fixed with fascination on her animated lips as she relished the crunchy salad and fat-battered crab cake with its slightly garlicky dressing perfuming the room around them.
He found it impossible to hold onto his irritation with her for deserting his bed. He was curious and more than a little suspicious of her goody-two-shoes boyfriend, who proclaimed to be the love of her life. “It makes me happy, angel, that you like the food here,” he said softly.
"It's delicious.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and said, “Look, Guy, you brought me here to talk, so talk."
"Okay, I'd like to know why you left my bed without even a goodbye."
"Isn't that obvious with Ted here?” she began, stabbing a tomato with her fork and shaking it at him. “You probably think I was a little rash but I made a mistake. And when I realized that, I left as soon as I could."
"Are you sure you made the right decision?” he asked in a low voice.
Shelly looked through the window at the night sky for a long moment. “I'm sure I'm just regretting that it went so far between us."
Guy might be willing to believe her. Might, but not without a hell of a lot more convincing. He wouldn't give up that easy on what had been the best experience of his life.
Shelly continued with obvious caution as she sipped at her soup. “Ted and I were having some problems, so I came here to work things out on my own. You were part of that ‘working-out process'.” She put up a hand to stop him from interrupting. “Doesn't it show how much he loves me, that he was still prepared to fly halfway around the world to be with me?"
Guy could feel the heat rising from his chest to his throat. He didn't much like being just a part of that ‘working-out process'. He glared at her fingers, curled lightly around her cup. “It could mean a lot of things,” he said tightly.
Shelly said simply, “Ted said that he loves me and I believe him."
Guy couldn't move, was barely capable of breathing. Still annoyed, he was nevertheless increasingly fearful that what she claimed might be true. He didn't want to be the cause of splitting up a perfectly good relationship. But damn it, he wanted her.
Shelly rested her warm hand over his on the tabletop. “Let it go, Guy, please. After all, what did we have together? One night?"
Oh, how her touch burned him. How it made him wish he could strip those clothes off her body and taste every single inch of her soft skin.
"Morning, we had one unforgettable morning together.” He choked.
She smiled a little. “Do you always have to correct me?"
He shrugged his wide shoulders. “It's one of my more annoying habits."
"Okay, so we had a nice morning. That's not enough for me to give up on a nine year relationship."
He couldn't utter a word. His lips felt as stiff as if he'd walked through a cold winter's night.
"Guy?” she asked, a note of worry in her voice.
He smiled weakly. His blue eyes troubled. “I'm okay. I know how to take rejection."
Shelly slanted him a look; she couldn't imagine another female ever rejecting him. In fact, she quite believed that she was the only one foolish enough on the planet. Forget the planet, the universe.
Guy took a bite of his crab cake and chewed without tasting anything. “So where do things go from here between us?"
Shelly glanced up at him from her empty plate. “I suppose we could be friends."
Guy no longer felt hungry. He pushed his plate away. Irrational visions of Shelly moving next door to him, her handsome husband in tow, popping in now and again for coffee and a pleasant chat about her kids, filled him with dread.
He stared numbly at her across the table. “I can't be just that with you."
Shelly shot him a nervous glance. “Then perhaps we should just try and avoid one another."
His laugh wasn't pl
easant. “On an island this size, you must be joking. If you've got a magic wand up your sleeve, sweetheart, now is the time to use it. Because it would be better for both of us if you could just wave it and make me disappear."
The small amount of luncheon she'd eaten was lying like lead in her stomach and Shelly hoped she wouldn't disgrace herself by being sick. He was probably right. She stood to her feet. “I better get back, Ted's probably getting
Chapter 12
Next day in his small office, Guy sat behind his desk, replaying the way Shelly had felt in his arms the night before. He felt the air grow thick in his lungs, suffocatingly thick. The way it was underwater when his air supply was nearly gone. Clenching his teeth, Guy had the sudden urge to put his head through the wall in frustration. Why was she being so difficult? He cursed and thumped his fist against the desktop in an effort to beat images of Shelly from his thoughts.
Mark, who had just walked into the room, carrying a pile of wetsuits asked, “That bad, huh?"
Guy let out a slow breath between his teeth. “You have no idea."
"Heh! Listen, I've got something that will take your mind off this mystery woman for a while."
Guy scowled at him. “How'd you know I was thinking about her?"
Mark sent him a pitying look. “Its just obvious. Listen, I've got a booking in about five. If you like, you could take it. Might help get your mind off this woman for a while."
Guy shrugged. “What the heck, I have nothing else to do.” He looked up a moment later, as Ted, in a pair of Bermuda shorts and a white T-shirt entered the room. “Are you my nine o'clock?” he asked.
Ted nodded his good-looking blonde head. Guy looked at the papers on his desk and reminded himself to make a mental note to strangle Mark. Great, he thought as he typed in a booking for Shelly and Ted, watching the letters on the small computer screen. His day just seemed to be going from bad to worse. It wasn't yet eleven, and he already wanted to crawl back into bed and wait for tomorrow.
After a thoroughly uncomfortable ten minutes, Ted left with a booking for a lesson at ten the next day.
Five minutes later, Mark stepped back into the room. “Did he change his mind about the booking?"
"No, I rescheduled it for tomorrow, since I was fully booked and you were sick."
"I was? I mean, I am? You were?"
"Yes.” Guy looked up at Mark and narrowed his eyes. “You can take Mr. Anderson and his lady friend tomorrow. Okay?"
"Hey, okay by me.” Mark looked momentarily surprised, and then he said, “Guess what just happened to me?"
"I'm not much good at guessing games, so why don't you just tell me,” Guy said as he raked in one of the small drawers for his wallet.
"I just banged into one knock-out of a woman."
"You don't say."
His sarcasm went straight over the other man's head. Mark, always eager to talk about anything to do with women, said, “She was that guy's girlfriend, blonde like him, too. She had large green eyes, and a pair of perky little tits that any man would like to get his hands on. And as for her ass ... woo, I hate to admit it, mate, but I got stiff just looking at it."
Guy sighed. The pain around his chest was suddenly unbearable. He believed for a minute that it would surely kill him.
"Hey, what's up, buddy?” Mark asked anxiously.
"I know her.” Guy rubbed his hand wearily over the back of his neck.
Mark's face lit with sudden understanding. “Wait, don't tell me, she's your mystery lady.” He answered his own question. “She is, isn't she? What a bummer! Look, I'm sorry, mate. It must have been hell for you when you saw that the appointment was for the both of them."
Guy grunted and stuffed his feet into his trainers. “Don't even think about cracking a joke until I've gone.” He gave Mark a menacing glance. “If you do, I won't be responsible for my actions."
Mark, straight-faced, assured, “The thought hadn't even crossed my mind."
When Guy closed the office door behind him, Mark's pelts of laughter followed him along the corridor. He couldn't smile but he knew that he would have laughed too, had the boot been on the other foot.
* * * *
Guy jogged into Dolphin Bay, his body, after an hour full-out sprint, satisfyingly spent. He pulled up short. So much so, that if anyone had been walking behind him they would have banged into his back.
Shelly was sitting on the sandy peak where they had gone skinny-dipping. The sight of her wrenched his heart. Her blonde hair, a mass of waves tumbled down her back and rested on the sand. She looked so incredibly sad that he wanted to hold her in his arms and make all her troubles disappear. He watched her for a long time, before he walked to her side and sat down, his expression determined and noncommittal. Still, he had to resist the impulse to kiss her hello.
Shelly stiffened, as Guy seated himself by her. His emotions showed in the tension riding his shoulders and in the hard compression of his mouth. Trying to break the ice, she asked gaily, “Your dog just die?"
Guy looked at her. How he ached for her. How he loved her. How he hoped she would feel the same way. “I don't have a dog."
The silence between them suddenly hummed so loudly that Shelly swore she could have waltzed to it. But since the opportunity had presented itself, she decided to get the unpleasant task of explaining her behavior out of the way, while she still had the nerve.
"I think I owe you an apology, Guy,” she murmured, her face beetroot red. “I should have said that I was, well, involved with someone. I didn't and, well, that was wrong of me."
"Yes, well.” He sifted his fingers slowly through the pale sand. “I admit, I did feel the sting of it when your husband-to-be suddenly turned up."
This wasn't easy. Shelly swallowed uncomfortably and laced her fingers together, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “I didn't mean to mislead you. Things weren't going right between Ted and I."
He gave her a long, level look she couldn't quite read, then said. “I provided a distraction?"
Ashamed, Shelly dropped her gaze and nodded.
A seagull cried in the distance. Guy looked from her pinched face to the beach. A windsurfer with a Union Jack decorating his sail was skimming expertly across the foamy surf. Several couples dressed mostly in swimming costumes were strolling hand-in-hand along the white sand, enjoying the breathtaking beauty of the island as only lovers could. It hit Guy then, like a punch to the gut, that he wasn't destined to be one of them with Shelly. He should just give it up.
"Look, don't bother your pretty little head over it another moment."
They both paused to share a brief smile and Shelly instantly felt better. It hadn't been easy to blurt all this out, but she was relieved that they'd finally cleared the air.
"Thanks for understanding. Relationships are never easy,” she whispered.
Guy shook his head. “Isn't that the truth?"
They laughed then, and because they were still awkward with each other, the sound was rusty.
"Ted wants to invite you and your girlfriend over for dinner tonight."
A tight scowl darkened Guy's handsome face. “Sue's not my girlfriend, she just wants to be."
Shelly felt her heart leap. “But you don't—"
"I don't know what I want.” That was a lie. What he wanted was sitting right in front of him, so bewitching that he forgot momentarily to breathe.
Shelly sighed. “Who does?"
Guy brought the bottom edge of his sweaty T-shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. “I could do with a drink. Wanna join me?"
Shelly's gaze feasted on his bare chest. Unable to move or look past all that incredible skin, she fought the urge to run her tongue over his sweaty abs.
She dug her nails into her palm, the pain sobering her while she followed Guy, as he led the way to the nearest shaded beachside bar. While he sat down at one of the tables, Shelly made a point of studying the menu. She didn't want to look at him. She wondered what the hell she was even doing there.
She ordered orange juice and Guy opted for the same. She pulled out the chair across the table from him. Her mind was whirling. She didn't want to give him a second wrong impression, now that she had managed to correct the first one. Her worry was that he might interpret her friendliness as a sign of romantic interest, which, of course, it wasn't.
Shelly's thoughts were tumbling over themselves as she struggled to find a diplomatic way of telling him all this, without sounding like she thought herself something special, and without sounding presumptuous.
"I'd like to thank you,” Guy said, cutting into her reflections. His glass held high in front of him. “For setting the record straight."
"Oh, you don't need to, honestly.” Shelly shook her head dismissively. “This was all my fault in the first place."
"Nevertheless, it took guts to say what you said today."
"No honestly.” Once more, she shook her head for emphasis. “There is no need."
"There is. Let's toast to our friendship, shall we?"
Shelly nodded and raised her glass to his, as they chorused, “Friends.” A shiver shot up her spine. She would have a hard time just being that with him, she knew.
"So what was that about dinner?"
Shelly felt the heat shoot up her neck until it reached her hairline. “Ted just thought that, well, you and Sue might enjoy it."
He sipped at his drink. “And what about you, Shelly? Would you enjoy it?"
"Yes.” She linked her fingers behind her back, taking a deep breath before she trusted herself to speak. “I just don't want you to think that there is more in this dinner invitation than there actually is."
Guy swirled the contents of his glass. “An invitation to dinner, especially when it comes from a gentleman, isn't exactly a marriage proposal."
"True.” Shelly flung back at him. “But you might think ... I don't know. I guess I want you to know that the invitation wasn't from me and I don't want you to think I'm interested in you romantically."
Guy winced. God, the lady didn't mince her words.
Shelly slumped back into the chair and released a long sigh. “Tell me to shut up please. I'm only making things worse, aren't I?"
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