Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong - By Nikki Logan Page 0,41

man that she should have felt this way with. But she hadn’t. Nothing like this. It was as if her body was working on a whole new set of rules.

Tears prickled as she heaved in a deep, shaky breath. She’d not thought of them all afternoon. A sick feeling chased all the joy out of her body.

What had she done?

‘Rob, I can’t breathe...’

Everything in her screamed stay but the words coming out of her said move. The only sane part of her—her conscience—was giving the orders. He slid his weight off her and rolled onto the sand, one bronzed hand shading his eyes from the tropical sun, smooth bicep bulging. He looked at her silently, a question in his eyes. She dropped a curtain on her thoughts, forced herself to meet his gaze and smile.

‘So how was it?’ His words came from between heavy breaths. His chest rose and fell about as hard as hers.

The conceit shocked her for a moment until she realised what he meant. The snorkelling. Or did he intend the double meaning? ‘Fantastic. I’m so pleased we did it. Thank you.’

‘Wanna do it again?’

Oh, he knew. His smoky eyes told her well enough. She wanted to smile back so badly, to play along, flirt like the witty, beautiful women he was used to. But she wasn’t those women and she just didn’t think that fast on her feet—or back—after something as monumental as what they’d just shared. She went for honest instead, though it killed her to say it.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

Her answer surprised him and his clenched abs pulled him into a sitting position as she rose. He looked at her like a curiosity the ocean had tossed up.

Disloyalty choked her. What the heck was she doing sharing hot kisses with a demi-god on the edge of the same ocean her family died in? She should be thinking about them. Honouring them. Instead, she’d dishonoured their memory in a most fundamental way. Her hand strayed to her scars and curled around the damaged flesh.

‘Sometimes it’s better to leave something on a good experience than to push it,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to ruin it.’

He narrowed his eyes and not because of the sun. ‘Are we still talking about snorkelling?’

She didn’t answer. Suspicion blazed in his eyes, a moment of self-doubt quickly masked. It bothered her to have driven his confidence away. But her worry was wasted as she saw it return, two-fold. Perfect teeth gleamed between lips she knew so intimately now.

‘I’ll change your mind.’ He trailed the back of his hand over her hip to her thigh. Shivers of desire fluttered in its wake.

Treacherous skin! She fought hard to remain still, to cloak the desire leaping in her own eyes. ‘You could. So easily. But please don’t.’

He stared at her, hard. ‘Why?’

She couldn’t help the flick of her eyes out to sea. But she didn’t speak. She just wasn’t that courageous.

‘Do you not get to live now, Honor?’ That brought hazel eyes back to his. ‘Isn’t it bad enough that two people died that day?’

Fury rose quick and hard in her chest. Defensive. ‘You don’t know a thing about it. How it feels.’

‘No, I don’t. Thank God. It kills me that you’ve had to.’ He held her eyes. ‘But what if life is like snorkeling? Sure, we’d all stay down there if we could—where it’s quiet and beautiful and surreal. But humans aren’t designed to be there for ever. We need to breathe. To resurface.’

Confusion roiled through her. ‘This is not resurfacing. This is just sex.’

‘Is it? Is that all?’

Pain oozed out of her pores. It’s all I’ll let it be. ‘What else would it be?’

Hurt radiated from his eyes. He took his time answering and his face slowly closed off to her. ‘Then what’s wrong with sex? If we both feel it.’

‘There’s a big difference between wanting and doing, Rob. For most people, anyway.’

Why wouldn’t he take things to the natural next step? After the way she’d flirted with him in the water and kissed him last night. And just now. They were both well aware of the attraction zinging between them.

Her gut churned.

‘My mistake, Honor. I thought today would be good for you. Would remind you of the joy in the world and take the pain away, just for one afternoon. I should have known better than to try and help someone who’s made herself perfectly at home in her misery.’

He pushed himself to his feet and glared