The Ballerina Bride

by Fiona Harper

  That, and the fact she really didn’t want Finn to see her dance.

  She walked over to where he was and gracefully folded her legs under herself until she was sitting beside him. Not too close, mind you.

  ‘I know,’ she said carefully, trying to scrunch up her toes so he wouldn’t see how ugly her art had made them. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’

  She couldn’t let him see her dance. It would be far too dangerous, far too revealing. It wouldn’t have mattered a couple of weeks ago, because she’d have had nothing to hide then— but now… Now she felt as if every emotion she’d been holding in check would come seeping out of her pores as soon as she began to move.

  Then he’d know.

  And, as hopeful as the mermaid part of her had been last night under a starlit sky, the practical ballerina, bathed in morning light, knew better, knew she was asking for too much.

  ‘Okay,’ said Finn, clapping his hands and hoisting himself up. ‘If no gala performance is forthcoming, I think it’s high time you worked on your fire skills.’

  Allegra groaned out loud. Despite her best efforts, that particular talent still eluded her. But, as frustrating as another attempt would be, she’d do it because it was a safe activity and, where Finn McLeod was concerned, safe was definitely good.

  The fresh young coconuts at the top of the palm tree were taunting him. He looked up at them, dangling out of reach on the tree that he’d picked out as the most scalable near their camp.

  ‘Why can’t we just grab one off the beach again?’ Allegra asked. ‘They’re all over the place.’

  ‘Not the same,’ Finn muttered, eyes still fixed on the large green nuts sitting under the palm leaves at the top of the tree. ‘Coconuts that have fallen off the tree are mature. The flesh is drier and they have much less liquid.’

  And he had a hankering for the gelatinous sweetness he knew the young nuts contained. A hankering he was allowing to overtake the sensible side of his brain—the side that kept reminding him he was expending way more energy harvesting the food than he would gain in calories from eating it—because focusing on this craving was a very nice distraction from other things he shouldn’t be hankering for.

  He had another go. The bottom of the trunk ran at forty-five degrees to the ground for about eight feet and then it rose proudly upwards for another twenty. He jumped on, walked up the first part, using his hands for leverage, then changed technique when the trunk became vertical. He’d seen locals on more tropical islands than he cared to count doing something similar. Kids, even! Surely it couldn’t be that hard?

  After two frog-like jumps up the tree, he lost his grip and came crashing down on the sand, narrowly avoiding a faceplant.

  Dave roared with laughter and zoomed in on him. Finn simmered inside. He was almost certain that one would end up in an out-takes show at some point in the near future. He was tempted to vent his frustration, just so they could add a few of the obligatory bleepings-out, but he managed to contain himself. Just.

  He rolled over onto his back and looked up at the sky. At the fringes of his vision he could see Allegra, hands on hips, her ponytail swaying as she guffawed behind her hand.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ he said, pulling himself up. ‘It takes a great deal of strength, balance and coordination to pull that off. I’d like to see you try.’

  It had been a throwaway comment, but she stopped laughing and arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Things I’ve been told I have plenty of,’ she said.

  The crew went very quiet, which was normally a sign he was about to do something totally stupid, or they were aware something really filmable was about to happen.

  Funnily enough, he didn’t want Allegra to be joining him on that out-takes show.

  ‘Really? You want to try?’ He looked at the tree again, carefully scanning every inch from the bottom to the top. ‘I’m telling you, falling on this sand is like falling on concrete.’

  ‘Don’t you think I can do it?’

  He met her gaze. Instead of the doubt and fear he might have seen there a few days ago, he saw a spark of defiance, a challenge. It made her even more appealing.

  He looked back at the tree again. Nothing appealing about that awkward bit of vegetation, so he was safe there.

  ‘Be my guest,’ he said, expecting Tim, the safety expert, to veto him. But Tim just nodded and waved towards the tree.

  ‘Consider putting on your long-sleeved shirt,’ Finn added, pulling himself up off the ground. ‘It might save you some scraped arms.’

  Allegra glanced over at the shelter, which was maybe thirty feet away, and then shook her head. ‘I’ll risk it,’ she said, and walked over to the bottom of the tree.

  Part of Finn wanted to tell her to go and get it anyway. The other part was pleased she was finally listening to her gut. It meant she might have a chance of surviving the surprise final challenge after all.

  Allegra must have seen him try to shimmy up that tree at least twenty times this morning, and she copied his moves perfectly. More than perfectly, actually, because she walked up the tree and got into the froggie position easily. Then she pressed down with her feet and jumped upwards, hugging the trunk lightly with both arms. A couple more times and she stopped.

  Finn’s heart began to hammer. That was the bit where he always fell off. But she turned her head to grin at all of them on the ground and then carried on. That was when she really found her rhythm. She shot up that tree like a monkey, those long, flexible legs and hardened feet making short work of it. Once again, Finn thought that if learning ballet gave you strength like that, he just might have to take it up himself.

  Only if he didn’t have to wear tights, of course.

  ‘How many do you want?’ she called from the top of the tree.

  ‘Two or three,’ he yelled back. ‘Twist them. They should come down fairly—’

  He jumped out of the way of a plummeting coconut that had threatened to turn his bare toes to mush.

  Amazing. Just like those kids who could shimmy up those trees in no time. Her smaller, lighter frame was much more suited to coconut tree climbing than his.

  Another coconut thudded to the ground. And then another, which rolled lazily towards him. He bent down and picked it up. Then he walked over to a low rock a little further down the beach and set about opening it up with his machete. Hopefully, by the time she was back down on the ground he’d have it ready and waiting for her.

  ‘Finn?’ She sounded a little nervous.

  He glanced back at the tree, where she was still half-hidden under the bushy palm leaves that clustered at the top. He left the machete embedded in the coconut shell and stood up. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Erm…how do I get down again?’ she yelled. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t seen you do it any way I’d like to copy.’

  That was when the silent crew blew it by hooting with laughter. He would have got cross with them if they’d been laughing at her, but they weren’t. The joke was on him.

  He walked towards the tree, shielding his eyes with the flat of his hand, but before he’d opened his mouth to offer some advice, she started to reverse the climbing process. She made it back down just as successfully, if a little more slowly and clumsily, and then jumped to the ground when she was close enough. No ungainly thudding as he would have done. Her legs bent deeply and she kept her back beautifully straight. She made so little noise he suspected there might not even be a dent in the sand where she landed.

  ‘I’ll make sure I bring you with me on my next desert island trip,’ he said cheerily, and then wondered why he’d ever let those words out of his mouth.

  The smile of accomplishment that had lit up Allegra’s features disappeared. The camera crew went quiet again. She looked away.

  ‘No, you won’t,’ she said. ‘This is a one-time deal. We
both know that.’

  He knew that. In a couple of days she’d go back to her life and he’d go back to his. He just hadn’t realised how much he didn’t want to believe that, or how empty the prospect made him feel. He wanted to do the whole series with her, to take her to every new place and see her eyes sparkle at each new wonder. And there was a whole planet to explore. They could keep going for ever.

  If this weren’t a one-time deal…

  He kicked one of the fallen coconuts with his bare foot. Bad idea. And then he walked back to the one he’d cracked open, hiding his limp as best he could. Didn’t work. The crew started snickering again.

  ‘Where’s the brown hairy bit?’ Allegra said from over his shoulder as he made several deep cuts into the end of the green shell.

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You’ll see.’ With the final slice of the knife he spotted a small dark hole in the glistening white flesh. He stood up and held the coconut up to her lips. ‘Try it.’

  Her hands came up to steady it and he carefully moved his fingers so they didn’t brush hers. Afterwards he realised they wouldn’t have done anyway, because she’d been equally as careful about not touching his. He ignored that thought. Didn’t want to consider what it might mean.

  When she had it steady in her hands, he let go entirely and stepped back.

  There. Much safer.

  She tipped her head back and the coconut with it. The clear juice ran out, taking her by surprise. She caught most of it, but some ran out of her mouth and down her chin. Finn licked his lips.

  She held the coconut in one hand and, laughing, wiped her chin with the back of the other one.

  ‘Do you want some?’ She held the bright green shell out to him.

  Finn didn’t move. Couldn’t. He feared if he did he might do something monumentally stupid. Not just falling-off-a-cliff stupid, but end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it stupid.

  A small drip of coconut water was hanging on Allegra’s bottom lip and he watched it, stomach muscles tightening, as it hugged the rounded fullness and then dribbled down her chin. He couldn’t take his eyes off that drip.

  Allegra stopped laughing and hugged the coconut to her abdomen. He managed to unhook his gaze from her lips for a second and flick it to her eyes. She was looking at him with a startled expression.

  They stayed like that for a few long seconds. Allegra was the first one to break eye contact, but her gaze didn’t drift far. Only downwards an inch or so. He felt his mouth dry and as he was about to moisten it Allegra mirrored him by running the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip.

  The sound of the wind in the palm branches above their heads disappeared. The surf must have paused itself, because he didn’t hear a single wave crash. But in the flawless silence he heard the shallow rasp of her breath, the pounding of his blood in his ears.

  He was staring at her mouth, and she was staring at his. They both seemed to realise this in the same instant and shifted their gaze to look into each other’s eyes.

  Finn felt something slam into his chest. At first he thought it was another coconut falling from the tree, but when searing pain didn’t follow he realised it was something else. It wasn’t a solid object that had almost knocked him off his feet but a realisation.

  Whatever strange magnetic forces on this island had caused him to lose his mind in the last twenty four hours—she was feeling them, too.

  Dave coughed, and that simple, basic human noise cracked the bubble of silence that had surrounded her and Finn. Now that there was air, Allegra sucked some in then thrust the green coconut at Finn’s chest before stepping away. His hands came up to grip it out of sheer reflex. He didn’t look away.

  Then, suddenly, it was all over, and movement and noise and sensation returned. The crew sprang into action as Finn fetched one of the bamboo cups he’d made and poured the rest of the coconut water into it. Dave and the other cameraman moved in close to get the best angles as Finn picked up his machete and set about splitting the coconut with unusual vigour, even for him. Allegra quietly backed away and let them all swarm in.

  She’d seen what she’d thought she’d seen, hadn’t she? Or had it just been more wishful thinking? Mermaid thinking?

  He’d finished opening up the coconut now and he used his knife to split the husk and carve two wedge-shaped spoons from the green shell. Dave and the other crew drew back as Finn offered her one. She felt she had no choice but to walk down the path they’d created for her. She moved slowly and carefully, her bare feet working through from toe to heel, as if she were walking onto a stage.

  She took the spoon, once again careful not to make contact, and crouched down beside the rock he was carving the coconut on. Neither of them looked at anything but the coconut.

  She scraped her spoon into the snowy-white coconut innards and was surprised when instead of meeting dense, hard flesh the piece of shell sank in and she was able to easily scoop out what looked like slightly unset yoghurt. Finn did likewise and instantly wolfed it down, letting his eyelids close lightly as he savoured the taste. Allegra didn’t move. Not because she didn’t want to eat, but because the message hadn’t quite travelled from brain to arm yet. But when Finn swallowed and she sensed he was going to open his eyes again she focused fiercely on her spoon.

  Now that she had coconut-related visual stimulation her arm jerked to life and she lifted the spoon to her lips.

  It was like…

  She didn’t know what it was like. The texture was indescribable, but it tasted like coconut she’d had before only more delicate and sweeter and—this sounded quite strange—more alive. She knew why Finn had closed his eyes now, because she could hardly resist doing the same herself.

  When she’d finished the first mouthful she reached her spoon out to gather a second, and made the mistake of catching Finn’s eye as she did so.

  Clunk.

  It happened again. Their gazes snagged like Velcro.

  He’d been watching her, watching her reaction to her first taste of sweet young coconut. He’d just had some himself, yet he looked like a starving man.

  She swallowed, even though her spoon and her mouth remained empty.

  She hadn’t been imagining it. Not one bit. And that knowledge flipped everything on its head, because now she wasn’t longing for the impossible any more. A door of opportunity had been opened for her.

  But was she stupid enough—and brave enough—to walk through it?

  CHAPTER NINE

  ALLEGRA did nothing. At least, she said nothing. Maybe that meant she was still a coward, that all that shouting and screaming and letting it all out on the hilltop had been nothing more than a good way to make her tonsils sore. She couldn’t seem to bring any of that liberty to her tongue now, as she worked and ate and slept next to Finn.

  Only two more nights. Time was running out now.

  She was at the far end of the beach, on a food gathering task Finn had set for her. It was safe enough now to turn and look. She could see his khaki shape moving around near their shelter.

  She sighed and turned back to the ocean. Bring back something edible, Finn had said. Allegra had avoided the crabs that scuttled near the rock pools—not much chance of getting them back to camp with all her digits intact. She’d also spotted a conch shell further along in the shallows, but it was probably empty. She’d already gathered some squashy, succulent leaves of sea purslane, but she decided to check the shell out anyway.

  She placed the tropical salad she’d gathered onto the wet sand before wading into the shallows to inspect the conch. It was horrendously heavy, which gave her hope, but when she upended it she discovered a shiny pink interior. Premises vacated. Just a pretty shell with nothing inside.

  Like her, really. Big on appearances, not so hot on the following through.

  She’d
had all these great plans of how she was going to tell Finn she was attracted to him, and they had all come to nothing. She’d rehearsed a hundred speeches—from flirty and cheeky to deep and meaningful—fully intending to deliver them, but when an opportunity came, she clammed up and the moment passed.

  She really was a mute little mermaid, wasn’t she? And had just as much luck with the men.

  She dropped the shell back into the water and waded back to shore, where she gathered up the purslane and headed back to camp to show Finn her find.

  ‘Great,’ he said, only half looking up from the fire. ‘Want to help me prepare the meal?’

  She nodded, and they worked side by side in silence, passing tools, taking turns to check the fish roasting there on a stick.

  Must be really riveting TV, she thought, as she bit into some sea purslane and savoured its saltiness. The crew had been fidgety for a day or so now. Probably because she and Finn had tacitly settled into a rhythm with each other. They worked as a team, saying only what needed to be said to get the jobs done. All the other words were kept under lock and key.

  And, even though the cameras and microphones were high-tech and very sensitive, Allegra was glad they hadn’t yet invented a recording device that could capture what was humming between her and Finn. They didn’t even have to look at each other now to feel it. It was there from the moment they opened their eyes in the morning until their brains succumbed to unconsciousness at night. And probably in between.

  Not just a physical awareness—it had gone long past that—but a sense of completeness, a profound sense of connection. And she knew she wasn’t alone in feeling it. At least, her mermaid brain told her she wasn’t alone, and she was inclined to believe it.

  For the first time in her life, Allegra felt as if she’d not only met someone’s expectations, but exceeded them. And it was sweetness to her soul.

  The air was oppressive. Every molecule seemed to be humming. Even under the canopy of dense vegetation in the island’s interior, Finn didn’t need to look up to know that clouds had blocked out the sun.