Meena’s hands tightened on his shoulders and he wrapped his arms round her waist in response, rolling over so he was lying above her, the sun hot on the back of his head, her body soft beneath him. Her shirt had rucked up as he’d rolled them over and he couldn’t resist the heat of that golden-bronze skin. His hand explored, and his eyes and lips followed, her fingers threading through his hair as he pressed first one kiss and then another to the soft skin of her stomach.
But then with a wrench she pulled her shirt down, and he lifted himself up on his elbows, looking into Meena’s eyes as she lay beneath him.
Which was enough time for doubt to flicker over her features.
* * *
‘Guy... I can’t,’ she said. ‘This isn’t me.’
His brows creased. ‘I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to, Meena,’ he said, putting more space between them. ‘But...if this is what you want... Meena, it is you. It can be you.’
‘But I don’t do this sort of thing,’ she said, wrapping her arms around her body.
He gave her a small smile. ‘It doesn’t have to be a sort of thing you do,’ Guy said, giving her space, but looking at her so intensely that she felt herself squirm. ‘It can just be something that you want to do now. Here. With me.’
He moved away from her a fraction more, leaving her cold where he had been pressed against her. She relaxed a little, secure in the knowledge that if she didn’t want this then he wouldn’t want it either. This would be so much easier if she actually knew what she wanted, though.
Except that wasn’t right, she acknowledged to herself. She knew exactly what she wanted. What she wanted was laid out in front of her, waiting for her to come to him. The question was whether she was going to take it. She wanted him, but she couldn’t shake that voice in her head that told her that she shouldn’t.
Guy leaned towards her and kissed her lips so softly, so gently, that she felt herself melting. And with that, she knew that this couldn’t be wrong. It didn’t matter what she’d thought she’d had planned for her life. All she had to think about was what she wanted for herself now. And she knew that there was no way that this could be anything other than beautiful.
She kissed him back, her lips curving into a smile.
‘Is this okay?’ Guy asked breathlessly between kisses.
‘Very okay,’ she whispered back. This time it was her hands that went exploring, skimming over his skin, tracing out the shape of his shoulder blades, the bumps of his spine down the centre of his muscled back.
She had never imagined that she could want this so much. That she could want more—but she did. She couldn’t imagine anything any more that would make her want to stop touching Guy, that would stop her wanting him to touch her. Guy’s hands had stilled when she had drawn away before, but she wanted his fingers back on her skin, showing her everything that he had once known about her body. Things that she herself couldn’t remember.
She reached down for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She soaked in the desire in Guy’s eyes for a moment as he drank in the sight of her, and she was amazed by how powerful that made her feel. How intoxicating that feeling was. And then his eyes dropped to the scars that criss-crossed her stomach and she tensed.
‘From the accident,’ he murmured. It was more a statement than a question as he traced one scar from the curve of her waist down towards her navel and the waistband of her shorts.
She bit her lip and nodded. ‘Uh-huh,’ she muttered, not capable of forming words.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Guy said, dipping his forehead to rest on hers, his fingers never stilling on that scar, tracing up and down, up and so slowly down. ‘I wish I had been here,’ he said, and Meena held her breath, because how different would her life have been if that had been the case? ‘I would have kissed these better,’ he whispered, and then the sun was dazzlingly bright in her eyes as his head dipped lower, kissing her neck, collarbone, then the soft curve of her belly, his lips replacing his fingers, tracing over the bumps of her scars, lower and lower and lower.
CHAPTER TEN
HER BODY HAD never felt so heavy. Her limbs were jelly; her eyelids were a rockfall across the entrance of a cave. Who cared? Meena thought. She didn’t need to move. To see. She’d just exist here, with the sun heating her skin and Guy’s breath still stuttering in her ear.
She groaned as he rolled away from her, but he grabbed her hand and squeezed, then pulled her closer, so she was tucked under his arm, her cheek pressed against the hot, damp skin of his chest.
So, finally, she understood.
This was who she had been that summer she had first met Guy. This was why she had made the decisions she had. And this was how she had got pregnant. Because the pull of this was irresistible and, now that she knew these sensations existed, she wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to get anything done ever again.
And yet, the feelings weren’t entirely new. There was something comfortingly familiar about the warm heaviness that weighed down her limbs. About the way that her body and Guy’s fitted together. There was something so right about being tucked up beside him that made her think that perhaps her body remembered him, even if her brain didn’t.
It made her wonder if her memories were still in there somewhere, just waiting for her to find the right route back to them. But perhaps they weren’t, and for the first time that thought didn’t frighten her. Frankly, how could she care if it meant that she got all these firsts again? First kiss. First love...
She smiled, listening to the gentle crash of the waves, soaking in the rays of the sun filtered by the coconut trees swaying above them. Grateful for the touch of a gentle breeze over her damp skin. She couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
Couldn’t imagine a memory that she would choose over this one.
And that was when it hit her. Any day now, this perfect scene would be destroyed when the builders moved in and started to dig up this island. All because Guy wanted to destroy the place that had been so special to them. She shuddered as real life filtered through her fantasy. She couldn’t lie on his chest any more with that knowledge burning through her. And she couldn’t even look at him.
So now she really knew. Knew what it was like to be so blinded by her desire for Guy that all sense was forgotten. Knowing that she’d repeated the same stupid mistakes she’d made when she’d been much younger and more naïve burned in her chest. She pushed herself upright, looking around for her clothes, scrambling into her shirt and underwear.
Guy pushed himself up on his elbows, his expression the definition of confusion. ‘Meena?’ he said, watching her battle with her clothes in a belated attempt at dignity. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing as he took in the change in atmosphere.
‘Everything,’ Meena replied. ‘This is wrong. A mistake. We never should have...’
‘I don’t understand what just happened,’ he said, pulling on his shorts while Meena gathered up the blanket, her papers and started throwing everything into her bag.
‘What just happened is I realised I’ve made a huge mistake.’
Guy frowned. ‘Is there any way to take that other than as an insult?’
‘Probably not,’ she conceded, keeping her focus on tidying their things rather than seeing the censure she knew must be waiting for her if she looked at Guy.
‘Are you going to explain it, then?’ he demanded.
‘I don’t believe I have to, Guy. You already know—you want to destroy this island. The only reason you were here in the first place was to try to make sure that I approve your environmental report and help make that happen. I can’t believe that I forgot that, even for a second.’
He stood watching her in silence, and any hope that they could somehow rescue this situation fled. There was no way around it. She would do anything to protect this island. He would do anything to destroy it. Th
at had been the situation when he had first walked onto this beach and found her flat on her back on the sand, and nothing had changed since then. The fact that she had fallen for him somewhere along the way—again—meant nothing. It meant less than nothing.
‘If that’s the way you feel,’ Guy said, every word a violent slash at her heart. It wasn’t the way that she felt. It was the truth. It was his truth. ‘I should go.’
‘You probably should,’ she agreed. ‘Get your revised plans to me by the end of the week. I’m sure we can find a way to put the application through, now that we know the nest was empty.’
He stopped and looked at her.
‘Is that what this is really about? The turtles?’
‘It’s all the same thing, Guy. This is about Le Bijou, and the fact that I would do anything to protect it.’
‘Including sleeping with me?’
She whipped her head round to stare at him, open-mouthed. ‘Are you really going to accuse me of that, Guy?’ she asked. ‘You think I would do this to try and change your mind? Well, thank you for proving me right. This was a mistake. I barely know you. And you’ve just proved you don’t know me at all. I thought you understood that this was special to me.’
He had the grace to look ashamed, at least. But it didn’t make his words go away. They couldn’t be unsaid. ‘I know that.’ He took a step towards her, but seemed to think better of it. ‘I’m sorry, Meena. I didn’t really believe that you would do that.’
‘But you said it.’
‘And I take responsibility for that. But I want you to know that I truly don’t believe it.’
‘Fine. I understand. Now, I think we should get off this island.’
She looked over at where her boat was tied up on the rickety old dock, glad that they had arranged to arrive separately. The last thing that she wanted was to be trapped in close confines with him for a moment longer. But, when they got to the jetty, Guy jumped down into her boat rather than into the cockpit of his speedboat.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHY HAD HE said it? The only answer he could give himself was that he had wanted to hurt Meena. He hadn’t believed what he had said, so what other answer could there be?
Which proved that she had the right idea, ignoring what had just happened between them and resuming their former hostilities. Meena was right. He wasn’t going to change his mind about Le Bijou. How could he?
But he wanted to. The voice at the back of his mind was too loud to be ignored now. He had wanted to build this development to erase Meena from his memories, but he realised now how impossible that would be. Even if every grain of sand on this island were removed, Le Bijou was soaked in Meena and in memories of their time here. There wasn’t enough concrete in the world that could make him forget her. Instead, he had made things worse. Made new memories, which were all the more unbearable for their freshness.
And he had hurt Meena. Over and over this afternoon, he had hurt her without even meaning to, trying to. He had hurt her when he had made love to her with no thoughts for the future, and no intention of dropping his plans for his development. He had hurt her when he had accused her of sleeping with him to push her own agenda, rather than...
Rather than what? He realised he had been so quick with his accusation, hurt at the way Meena had suddenly cooled towards him, that he hadn’t considered why she had slept with him. Or why he had slept with her, for that matter.
It was because he had wanted her so much he could barely breathe, he acknowledged to himself. He had wanted her as fiercely now as he ever had when they’d been younger. And he’d seen that same desire in her. Seen it overcome her hesitation and reserve.
He had loved her once. But that love had twisted and soured in him until he was the man he was now—incapable of having a relationship with a woman without hurting her. They had gone from perfection to disaster in the space of a breath, and he had no idea how.
But he knew now, more than ever before, that his decision to stay well away from relationships was the right one. How could he choose anything else, knowing what happened to the women that he got involved with? Thank goodness Meena had seen sense while they’d been lying on the sand on Le Bijou, because he wasn’t sure that he would have had the strength to end it if she hadn’t.
Being with Meena again was everything that he had dreamed about almost every night since he had last known her. But he knew that it couldn’t happen again. That he couldn’t risk hurting her again.
‘I don’t want to leave things like this,’ he said as Meena stashed her bags in the storage locker, the side of the boat bumping against the jetty as it rocked under their weight. Meena kept her eyes on what she was doing, though he had to wonder why it was taking her so long. She was avoiding speaking to him, of course. The answer was as obvious as it was unwelcome. Because now he had to say goodbye. Again.
He had no doubt that Meena would make sure that they didn’t meet again. She had all the information she needed for the environmental report. The turtle nest had been the last hurdle in the way of his development, and when she had excavated it and found it empty all his concerns should have fallen away as that final hurdle was cleared. Instead, all he could see was the grief that had creased Meena’s face as she had realised that there were no eggs.
He wasn’t sure which was worse for her. The loss of her fight against the development, or the reminder of the baby she had lost. But the pain had been raw and tangible.
The miscarriage hadn’t been just ‘her’ loss, though, he acknowledged. It was his too. With everything else that had happened in the last few hours, he had barely had a chance to process that information. She’d been carrying his child when he had left St Antoine. Even though he hadn’t known about the baby until it was already too late, he felt a wave of sadness for what might have been. Because he and Meena would have loved that baby. If he hadn’t left, if Meena hadn’t been struck by that motorbike, then they would be a family now. He could picture it as clearly as if it was real, and the loss of that life struck him with a painful intensity. His knees buckled and he sat on the edge of the boat with a heavy thump, feeling it rock beneath him.
At the sudden motion, Meena turned her head. ‘Guy? What is it?’ she asked, her expression so concerned that he wondered what was showing on his face.
‘Nothing...’ he said, but then hesitated. Because, if he left now, he was sure that he would never see her again. And if he never saw her again then who could he possibly talk to about the child and the future that they had lost? She was the only other person on the planet who shared this loss. Who could understand the alternative reality he was grieving for.
‘I was thinking about the baby,’ he admitted, and her face softened. ‘I can’t believe I never knew about it.’
‘I guess we have that in common,’ Meena said, coming to sit beside him. And he could see her point. He had never realised before that he had lost so much when Meena had lost her memories. So much of what they shared, what was important to them, was stored in one or other of their brains, each a backup for the other, and when half their collective memory had been wiped clean they’d both been left incomplete.
Meena, her hands tucked between her knees, her shoulders sloped as she stared down at the deck, said, ‘It’s only natural to think about it.’ And for a moment, she looked as if she didn’t hate him. And that lit up something inside him. Something he wanted to nurture, to keep alight.
‘I’m glad you told me,’ he said, realising suddenly that she had had a choice about that. She could have kept him in the dark and he would have lived his whole life never knowing about the baby they had made together.
‘I wasn’t sure whether I should,’ Meena said in a small voice. ‘It hurts so much, to think about it, and I thought I was sparing you that. But then when I excavated that nest...’
‘I know,’ he said, reaching for her hand and squeezing. ‘I know h
ow hard that was for you.’
He told himself that he shouldn’t be doing this. That he shouldn’t be reaching out to touch her, and the sensible part of his brain agreed completely. But the woman that he had once loved was beside him, hurting, and every part of his body ached to make that better. Holding her hand wasn’t much, but it was solidarity. It was telling her that she wasn’t the only one who had to carry those memories any more. That they would share this sadness and bear it together.
‘I’m glad that you know,’ she said at last, her hand still soft in his. He was waiting, he realised, for her to stiffen and pull away, and God knew that was what he deserved after the things that he had said. After what he was trying to do to the island that she loved. But for some reason he couldn’t fathom, she wasn’t pulling away. Instead her body was leaning closer; and her head had landed soft and warm on his shoulder.
‘You’ve never spoken to anyone about it before?’
She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. Not without knowing the full story. Not without being able to tell my parents or my friends who the father was.’
‘Well, you’re not alone in it any more,’ he murmured, risking pressing his cheek to the top of her head. Waiting for her to pull away from him, to realise that she was making a mistake. Putting herself at risk of being hurt. Instead he felt her soften more, her head growing heavier on his shoulder, the weight of her body pressing warmer at his side.
He should be the one to do it, he knew. He wanted to protect her, and the best way that he knew to do that was to stay as far away from her as possible. But he wasn’t sure that he could do it any more. He couldn’t willingly put more than a breath of space between them. He’d spent every minute since he had arrived here and seen her again for the first time trying to resist her. It had made absolutely zero difference to the way that he felt about her, and he feared he didn’t have the strength to keep going.
Falling Again for Her Island Fling Page 13