Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong - By Nikki Logan Page 0,52

They still had a couple of hours before her watch was due to start. Honor vacillated between relief and disappointment.

‘I thought I should start packing my gear back into The Player. If she was going to sink at anchor, she would have done it by now.’

Packing.

Leaving.

It was the first time either of them had mentioned the arrival of the supply vessel since that first day, which felt like a lifetime ago. Possibly even someone else’s lifetime. Honor realised she’d been avoiding thinking about it.

‘Oh. Right. Do you want some help?’ Even she could hear the reluctance in her voice. How could she not want him to stay but not want him to go?

‘No, but thanks. It’ll kill a couple of hours and the workout will do me good.’

Her aching muscles considered the past three days as intensive workouts—they’d done nothing in their time together but swim and snorkel and run and kiss. The fact that he still needed more activity spoke volumes. The man was living granite flesh and those muscles didn’t stay rock-hard by luck. Honor stepped back towards the tent where her sweater and logbook waited for her. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, then. I might just...um...read for a bit.’

It burned her that she felt so bereft at the idea of having nothing to do if Rob wasn’t around to occupy her. She’d survived four years out here and she’d have to survive a lot longer after he left. Maybe it was time to start resuming old habits?

But something wouldn’t let her just walk away from him. As though life was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it. Certainly neither was responsible. She brushed up to his side and stretched a gentle, sad kiss onto his cheek before continuing past and ducking into the tent.

Rob waited until she’d crawled into the tent before moving. He didn’t trust himself not to follow her in there and persuade her to extend that kiss. He was certain he’d have no trouble, judging by the flush he could bring to her skin with just a touch, but it aggravated him that he might need to resort to persuasion at all. He headed to the lagoon to cool off.

Honor was slipping away from him. He could see it happening right before his eyes and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Like holding onto an octopus, the harder he tried to hold her, the faster she slithered through his fingers. The only time he felt like he vaguely had a grasp on her was when they were together in the tent, wrapped in each other’s lips. In fact, there, she held on to him. Like a lifeline.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew that this was the first time she had let herself get involved with someone since she’d lost her husband and son. It thrilled him that he’d been the one to inspire her to take the leap; it meant she was seriously attracted to him. He certainly was to her. But he hadn’t failed to notice that, while she gave him her mouth willingly day after day, she had yet to give more of herself than that. In fact, she was distinctly offish about anything deeper than small talk.

Rob hauled the plastic tarp off the pile of electrical equipment sitting by the tree line on the lagoon edge and inspected it impatiently.

He knew little more about her today than he had ten days ago. He knew where she liked to be kissed. He knew how she tasted. He knew his mouth on her scars unhinged her completely. He was streaks ahead on the intimate stuff, but he had no clue what her favourite colour was, or whether she’d ever had her tonsils out, or where she’d grown up.

It bothered him. And it was stupid. He was alone on a deserted tropical island with a spectacular woman he would die to sleep with. Why the heck was he worrying about what school she went to or whether she’d had braces as a kid? Couldn’t he just enjoy it?

It took him over an hour to get the inflatable down to the water single-handed and load it fully with gear. He finally dragged it out waist deep into the lagoon. The tepid water did little to drag his absorbed mind back to the present.

It was clear that Honor was not going to share anything more than her kisses with him. Their latest conversation had been excruciating.