Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong - By Nikki Logan Page 0,30

told her all she needed to know. First—a day apart had done nothing to reduce the simmering tension between them. Second—he was still worried about her, judging by the cautious glance he returned.

Third—he’d shaved. That smooth jaw line called to her more than ever.

‘You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?’ Was that hurt in his voice?

‘I’ve been busy.’

His silence told her he knew she was lying. She squirmed under his steady regard.

‘Any luck?’

The turtles. Good. Safe. ‘Nothing yet, but they’ll come.’

‘Honor...about yesterday...’

She stopped him with a raised hand. ‘Don’t, Rob. You’re sorry you asked me and I’m sorry that I put you through all that. Can we just leave it at that? Two very sorry people?’

‘Some are more sorry than others.’ He smiled and she recognised it instantly as that other smile of his, the fake one. But his intense stare was genuine.

She turned away on a blush, lest he read her mind. It was wrong to be surprised that he not only had read Orwell but could also joke with it, but she was. She hadn’t pegged him as the literary type. Then she realised she’d started having trouble pegging him as any particular type. He still stared at her intently and, for a frightening heartbeat, she wondered if he could read her mind.

She sidestepped the awkward silence. ‘How long have you been a diver?’

He sat up straighter and considered. ‘Since I could swim. I was always the one who freaked the other kids out by sitting on the bottom of the pool for too long. I found it so tranquil. Private.’

That was at odds with his adult life. ‘I wouldn’t have picked you as someone who likes tranquillity.’

‘There are lots of things you don’t know about me.’

Hadn’t she just been thinking that very thing? ‘You quote the classics, can’t stomach the sight of blood and are kind to animals. Anything else I need to know?’

He looked surprised. Perhaps he thought she hadn’t been paying attention. ‘I make a mean lasagne.’

Her laugh was fast and loud. Birds flapped off their roosts and then settled again and their activity drew her gaze. When she looked back at him, he was staring at her openly. Curiously.

‘What?’

‘You’re such a mystery. Yesterday I would have put good money on you never speaking to me again. Now you’re laughing at my jokes.’

Honor knew that deserved an honest answer. She sighed. ‘Rob... Something like yesterday has never happened to me. Never. Even when they died, I didn’t really have a chance to just fall apart. I was even stuck in hospital up north for their funeral.’

Pity showed on his face before he schooled it.

‘It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It had to be conducted quickly because of how...’ She swallowed hard. ‘I was still in hospital in Darwin recovering from surgery and they were flown home to Perth. Anyway, to tell the truth, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t think it would make any difference to how I felt.’

‘So, that decision finally caught up with you?’

She dipped her head. He understood her very well for a stranger.

‘Right. I’m still quite shaky inside and out, but I think it was also very necessary, and overdue. This is not to say that I’m not mortified it happened in front of you, but...I guess it wouldn’t have happened without you.’

‘That’s what I—’

Her hand on his folded knees cut him off. ‘In a good way.’ His leg felt strong and cool under her hand. When he glanced down at it, she tucked it back into her lap. ‘Better out than in, as my mum used to say.’

‘Used to? Is she not still alive?’

She let the pause drag out too long. ‘Things were difficult between us after the accident. She lives in Broome now.’ She glanced to the east, back towards Australia. As though Tanya Brier might sense it. She’d put her life on hold for six months to nurse her only child back to full health, and she’d been repaid by...

‘Look, can we talk about something other than my mother?’

Rob blinked. ‘I’ll trade you.’

‘Mothers?’ She couldn’t help the eyebrow lift.

He laughed and she thought maybe he’d take her up on that. ‘Hard luck stories.’

‘What makes you think mine’s a hard luck story?’

‘Educated guess.’

Honor knew she wasn’t getting out of this without airing some kind of dirty laundry. The piper wanted payment. She sighed. ‘You first.’

‘Chelsea Dalton.’ He said her name after a moment, as if it was a fashion label. ‘Beautiful. Sexy.’

You knew you’d been on an island too long