by Amy Andrews
For the briefest moment their bodies were pressed together and neither of them moved as heat arced between them. Then Finn set her back and stepped away.
‘Going down for your daily flirt, I see?’ he said through stiff lips.
He looked her up and down as if she was wearing a skimpy bikini instead of a very sensible pair of boardies and the un-sexiest sun shirt ever made. Apart from the fact the shirt was tight around her bust due to the pregnancy, everywhere else pretty much hung and Evie was grateful for the extra layers of fabric as her bump seemed to become more and more noticeable to her by the day.
She decided to ignore the jibe. ‘Have you packed up all your stuff for the trip home tomorrow?’
Her time in paradise was over—Hamish would be back tonight and she and Finn would return to Sydney tomorrow. A flutter wormed its way through her belly at the thought of going back. Part of her wanted to stay—hole up here and forget the world. With the pound of the ocean below, it was incredibly tempting. But she was a fighter, not a hider. And real life beckoned.
The thought of being in a car with Finn for five hours, of having him back in Sydney, of telling him what she knew she must, made her pulse trip.
But it had to be done.
‘Nothing to pack—I still have my apartment with everything I’ll need,’ he said. ‘And I’ll be coming straight back here after Khalid’s discharge.’
Evie blinked. ‘You’re coming back?’
Finn gave a curt nod. ‘Yes. I’m done with surgery.’ He hadn’t been sure when she’d first arrived but two weeks back in her company had crystallised his decision.
Evie stared at him blankly for a moment then allowed the bubble of laughter rising in her throat an escape. He seriously thought he could just waltz in and do a one-off and not be sucked back into a world he’d thrived in?
Even she knew being a surgeon was like oxygen to him.
‘You know as well as I do that you’ll change your mind the minute you step foot in your old operating theatre.’
Finn hated how her laughter trivialised something he’d grappled with for a long time.
And that that she knew him so well.
It had been hell having her around the last two weeks. Hearing her voice and catching glimpses of her everywhere. Reminding him of them. Of his old life. Watching the guys flirt with her and then talk about her—Evie this and Evie that. The calm that he’d found here over the last months had well and truly evaporated and he desperately wanted it back.
The sooner he fulfilled his end of the bargain, the sooner he could find it again.
But he was scared. Scared that her prediction would come to pass. That he’d pick up a scalpel and find the salvation he’d always found there. The concentration, the focus, the intensity.
That he’d never want to leave.
Scared that he’d say yes. To surgery. To her.
And Finn didn’t like feeling scared. It reminded him too much of the perpetual fear he’d lived with during his fractured childhood—for him, for Isaac. Trying to keep him safe, to keep them together.
Fear that he’d conquered a long time ago.
And frankly it pissed him off.
‘Don’t think you know me,’ he snarled, ‘because you don’t. You think because we rutted like animals …’ he saw her flinch at his deliberate crudity but his adrenaline was flowing and he couldn’t stop ‘… a few times that you know me? Read my lips.’ He shoved his face close to hers and watched her hazel eyes widen. ‘I don’t want to be a surgeon,’ he hissed. ‘I don’t want to work at your father’s precious hospital. I don’t want to be anywhere you are.’
Evie felt like he’d taken a bloody great sword and cleaved it right through her middle, leaving her mortally wounded. A surge of white-hot bile rose in her chest as a blinding need to strike back took hold.
‘You’re a liar, Finn Kennedy,’ she snarled. ‘And a coward to boot. And to think you once called yourself a soldier!’
Finn took a step back at the disdain and contempt in her voice. No one had ever called him a coward before. No one. And he was damned if he was going to legitimise her accusation with a response.
Evie drew in a ragged breath as Finn stormed away, her insides shaking at their exchange. At her terrible insult. At the venom in his voice. Anger she’d expected—God knew, he pretty much existed in a perpetually angry state—but vitriol? That had been cutting. A block of tangled emotions rose to mingle with the acid in her chest and her legs started to shake. The urge to crumple into a heap undulated through her muscles but she refused to succumb to it.
Not here on the veranda, at least.
On autopilot she slung her hold-all over her shoulder, found the stairs, pounded down them. Hurried down the track, his angry words chasing her, nipping at her heels. And it didn’t matter that she’d given as good as she’d got, that her words had been just as harsh, it was his voice that ran through her head.
Rutted like animals.
Your father’s precious hospital.
I don’t want to be anywhere you’re at.
It was a little early for her rendezvous with the guys—it didn’t matter, she had to keep moving, do something other than think, get away from his words.
Rutted like animals.
The ocean, more rolling than pounding and surprisingly calm in some areas beneath the leaden sky, lay before her and she knew it was what she needed. To cleanse herself. Let the ocean wash the ugliness of his words away.
Rutted. Rutted. Rutted.
She took the stairs two at a time, her breath choking and catching in her throat, shaking her head to jam the audio playing on continuous loop.
Her foot hit the sand, her lungs and throat burning as breath and sob fought for the lion’s share of each inhalation. She ran down to the shoreline, dropped her bag and kept going, running into the water, not registering the cooler temperature or the depth she quickly reached.
She just threw herself into the waves and struck out against the ocean. Heaving in oxygen through her nose, pulling armfuls of water behind her as she freestyled like she had a rocket attached to her feet.
Getting away from Finn. Away from his words.
Away from his rejection.
She swam and swam, not looking up or around, just hitting out at the waves as her anger grew to match his.
Finn Kennedy was a jerk of the highest order.
He was a misogynist. A masochist.
Bloody-minded. Arrogant. Bastard.
And she was much too good for him.
So she swam. She swam and she swam until she couldn’t swim another stroke. And then she stopped.
She had no idea how long she’d been swimming. All she knew was her arms, legs and lungs were screaming at her and the beach seemed a very long way away. And the thought of having to swim all the way back was not a welcome one.
Damn it. Now look what he’d done.
He’d chased her right out into the middle of the bloody ocean. She sighed as she prepared to swim back.
Finn stood on the cliff top, his anxiety lessening as Evie came closer to land. Stupid fool to go out swimming by herself. The water might look calm to the untrained eye but the swell often made swimming very hard going and the tide was on the turn—always a more dangerous time to be in the water. From this vantage point he could see a rip forming close to the shore before his eyes.
And Evie was swimming right into it.
‘Evie!’ he called out, even though he knew it was futile all the way up here, with the wind snatching everything away.
He hit the stairs at a run, his gaze trained firmly on Evie, watching as she started to go backwards despite her forward stroke. Seeing her lift her head, her expression confused when she realised what was happening. Noting the look of panic and exhaustion as her desperate hands clawed at the water as if she was trying to gain purchase.
Thank God his raging thoughts had brought him to the cliff edge. That he’d sought the ocean to clear his head after their
bitter exchange.
‘Evie,’ he called out again as his foot hit the sand. Still futile but coming from a place inside that kicked and burned and clawed, desperate to get the words out. ‘Evie!’
It took Evie long seconds to figure out she’d been caught in a rip. And even longer seconds to stop fighting the pull at her legs and push at her body. No matter how much she kicked and bucked against the current, bands of iron seemed to pull tighter and just would not give.
Over the pounding of her heart her sluggish brain tried to remember what every Aussie kid growing up anywhere near a beach had been taught from the cradle.
Don’t fight it.
Lie on your back and go with it.
Wait until it ebbs then swim parallel to the beach.
Conserve your energy.
Evie felt doomed immediately. She was already exhausted—where on earth would she find the energy to swim back again once this monstrous sucker had discharged her from its grip? She opened her eyes to glance wistfully at the rapidly receding shoreline.
And that’s when she saw him.
A shirtless Finn running into the ocean, looking right at her, his mouth open, calling to her maybe? She couldn’t hear the words but just the sight of him made her heart sing. Half an hour ago she could have cheerfully murdered him but right this second he was what he’d been since that night she’d plonked herself down next to him at the gala—her everything.
She was tired and cold but suddenly she felt like everything was going to be okay and she finally relaxed and let the current sweep her along, her gaze firmly fixed on him as he threw himself into the rip and headed her way.
Her numb fingers found her bump and she whispered, ‘Daddy’s coming, baby.’
Finn caught up with her five minutes later as the rip swept them closer and closer to the rocky headland that divided this bay from the next.
Her lips were a pale purple and her teeth were chattering but she essentially looked in one piece and the tight fist around his heart eased a little. They weren’t exactly out of the woods but she wasn’t taking on water.
‘You okay?’ he shouted above the crash of the waves on the nearby rocks.
Evie nodded, smiling through lips that felt frozen to her face. The man didn’t even have the decency to look out of breath. ‘C-cold,’ she whispered.
Finn knew it would be impossible to warm her up in the water. ‘I think it’s weakened enough now that we can swim back. That’ll get the blood flowing again.’
Evie kicked into a dog paddle and managed a feeble smile. ‘Yay.’
‘Are you going to be able to manage the swim?’ Finn asked.
Evie looked at the distant beach and thought about her baby—their baby—depending on her to manage. ‘Guess I’ll have to,’ she said, knowing every arm movement, every leg kick would feel like swimming through porridge.
Finn could hear her exhaustion and wondered just how far she’d make it in the swell. He scanned around. They were situated between the two bays now, with the rip spitting them out directly in front of the rocky headland—the nearest piece of terra firma.
Waves thundered where the sea met rock and Finn knew they’d be smashed mercilessly, their bones as insignificant as kindling. But the bay on the other side seemed much more sheltered and he could see a couple of areas where they might be able to gain purchase on this calmer side of the headland and pull themselves out of the water.
It would certainly be quicker and less energy-sapping than the arduous swim back to shore.
‘There.’ He pointed. ‘We should be able to get onto those rocks. Go. I’ll follow you.’
Evie felt tired just looking at the waves sloshing against the rocks. He didn’t consult with her or seek agreement from her. Typical Finn—used to everyone jumping when he demanded it.
Finn frowned at her lack of activity. ‘C’mon, Evie,’ he said briskly. ‘You’re cold, you need to get out of the water.’
Evie looked back at him, his unkempt jawline and freaky blue eyes giving him a slightly crazy edge. Like he conquered rough seas and rocky headlands every day.
‘Evie!’ he prompted again.
Evie sighed. ‘Okay, okay,’ she muttered, kicking off in a pathetic type of dog paddle because anything else was beyond her.
Two slow minutes later they were almost within reach and Finn kicked ahead of her, looking for the best purchase. Finding a smooth, gently sloping rock that was almost like a ramp into the water, he reached for it. A breaker came from out of nowhere and knocked him against the surface, his ribs taking the brunt of the impact. Pain jolted him like a lightning strike and cold, salty water swept into his mouth as his breath was torn from his lungs.
Evie gasped. ‘Finn!’
‘I’m fine,’ he grunted, gripping the surface of the rock as pain momentarily paralysed his breathing. He lay for long moments like a landed fish, gasping for air.
‘Finn?’
Finn rolled on his back at an awkward angle, half on the rock, half in the water. ‘I’m fine,’ he said again as his lungs finally allowed the passage of a little more air. ‘Here,’ he said, half-sitting, the pain less now. Still, he gritted his teeth as he held out his hand. ‘Grab hold, I’ll pull you up.’
Evie did as she was told and in seconds she was dragged up next to him and they both half wriggled, half crawled onto flatter, water-smoothed rocks back from the edge, away from the suck and pull of the ocean.
They collapsed beside each other, dragging in air and recovering their strength. Evie shut her eyes against the feeble breaking sunlight and wished it was strong enough to warm the chill that went right down into her bones. The wind didn’t help, turning the flesh on her arms and legs to goose-bumps, tightening her nipples.
Finn lay looking at the sky. His ribs hurt—for sure there was going to be a bruise there tomorrow—but now they were safe he wanted to throttle her for scaring ten years off his life. He sat up. ‘Let’s go.’
Evie groaned. Despite how cold she was, she just wanted to lie there and shut her eyes for a moment. ‘Just a sec.’
‘No,’ he said standing up. ‘Now. You’re hypothermic. Walking will help.’
And if he stayed here with her he was going to let the adrenaline that had surged through him have free rein and it was not going to be pretty. His brain was already crowded with a hundred not-so-nice things to say to her and given that he’d already dumped on her earlier, she probably didn’t need another dressing down.
He crouched beside her and grabbed her arm, pulling firmly. ‘Now, Evie!’
Evie opened her eyes at the distinct crack in his tone—like a whip. She knew she should be grateful, she knew she should apologise for calling him a coward when the man had jumped into a rip to help her, but she wasn’t feeling rational. She wanted a hot shower and a warm bed.
Normally she’d fantasise about snuggling into him in that bed too but he was being too crabby and today was not a normal day.
‘Okay, okay,’ she said, letting him drag her into a sitting position and going on autopilot as she assisted him in getting her fully upright. She leaned heavily against him as her legs almost gave out.
He cursed. ‘You’re freezing.’
Evie frowned at his language but nodded anyway, her teeth chattering for good measure. ‘Cold,’ she agreed. ‘Tired.’
‘Right,’ he said briskly. ‘Let’s go. Quick march. Up and over the rocks then onto the sand then up the stairs.’
Evie groaned as her legs moved, feeling stiff and uncoordinated as if they’d had robotic implants. ‘Oh, God, those bloody stairs,’ she complained as Finn dragged her along.
‘You’ll have warmed up by then,’ he said confidently.
‘Oh, yes,’ she mocked. ‘I’ll be able to sprint right up them.’
It was on the tip of Finn’s tongue to snap that she’d made her own trouble but he was afraid that once he started, the fear that had gripped his gut as he’d raced down those stairs would bubble out and he’d say more stuff
that he regretted, like he had earlier today.
So he didn’t say anything, just coaxed, bullied and cajoled her every step over the headland, gratified to see her become more co-ordinated and less irrational as her body warmed up. When they reached sand he jogged ahead of her to where her bag had been discarded on the beach, took out her fluffy dry towel and jogged back to her, wrapping her in it.
‘You must be cold too,’ Evie protested as she sank into its warm folds.
‘I’m fine,’ he dismissed.
Somehow they made it to the top of the stairs and into the homestead and Finn was pushing Evie into the bathroom and turning the hot shower on and ordering her in. She’d never been more grateful for Finn being his bossy, crabby self.
Thirty minutes later Evie was tucked up in her bed and drifting off to sleep on a blissfully warm cloud when Finn barged in, carrying a tray.
‘Drink this,’ he ordered plonking a steaming mug of something on her bedside table along with a huge slab of chocolate cake on a delicate plate with a floral border. ‘Reginald insists,’ he said.
Evie struggled to sit up, every muscle in her body protesting the movement. ‘Well, if Reginald insists …’
She propped herself against the headrest, drawing her knees up as she reached for the mug. The aroma of chocolate seduced her, making her stomach growl and her mouth fill with saliva, and she was suddenly ravenous.
She sighed as her first sip of the hot sweet milk coated the inside of her mouth and sent her taste buds into rapture. Finn, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, prowled around the end of her bed, slapping the tray against his legs, and she tried her best to ignore him as she reached for the cake.
Finn paced as Evie ate, reliving their moments in the ocean, still feeling edgy from the hit of adrenaline. He’d tried not to think of the hundred things that could have gone wrong when he’d been in the water and trying to get her back to the house, but the minute the bathroom door had shut and he’d known she was truly safe, reaction had well and truly set in.
They’d been lucky. She’d been lucky. He wondered if she had a clue how close she’d come to being a drowning statistic. The thought sent a chill up his spine.