Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
S ERENI TY ?
Not quite...
Even so, sitting in the boat with her fellow travellers, Grace had certainly caught a few glimpses of it. In witnessing Mother Nature at her finest, there were times she had to pinch herself to believe she was really here.
It had been the most incredible few days. Sunrise boat trips followed by a gorgeous breakfast with her group, then a day to explore the boardwalk around the gorgeous resort. Or simply to rest on a lounger and watch the gentle activity on the river. Or relax in her suite.
After several turbulent years, finally there had been time to reflect and think—about her mother, her future, how wonderful Violet had been.
And there had been time to daydream...to lie in a hammock and think about gorgeous strangers who stared right into your eyes. How he’d smiled...
Today, before dusk, the ten in her party had set out again, to watch the animals and birds prepare for the night ahead. While she still hadn’t seen orangutans, tonight had been a highlight—on their way back they’d had to stop the narrow open boat as pygmy elephants crossed the river.
They were not so small...
Night was closing in as the exhilarated group made their way back, the lights of the villa twinkling invitingly ahead.
‘We’re rather late,’ Felicity, their extremely efficient guide for the evening, reminded them. ‘So get changed for dinner as quickly as possible.’
Guests were expected to dress for dinner, and on the day Grace had arrived a red sarong shot with silver had been waiting on her bed. At first it had felt strange to dress up, but Grace had started to enjoy how seriously meals were taken here. A gong would summon the guests to a stunning alfresco dining area set high over the river. There the guests would sit in their allocated groups and share in a sumptuous buffet dinner.
Mindful that they were running late, Grace had a very quick shower, then ran a comb through her newly wild hair—the humidity hadn’t been kind. Her long curls seemed to have doubled in volume and her comb kept snapping off teeth. Giving up on taming it, she tied it up in a messy bun—and then it was time to tackle the sarong.
Grace headed out, walking through the softly lit grounds to the gorgeous alfresco area, slipping off her shoes before entering.
‘Hey, Grace...’
One of the group, Randy, greeted her, as did everyone else, but then they all got back to their conversations.
Selecting a fragrant dish, Grace took a seat at the table. As much as she was loving her time here, she did feel like the odd one out. She knew she was out of practice socially, and her attempts at conversation and even her little jokes all seemed to fall on deaf or bemused ears.
Most in the group were considerably older—retired or semi-retired couples—and were well travelled. There were a few younger ones—a couple on their honeymoon and Corrin, who was German and a keen photographer. The only thing Grace had to take pictures with was her rather basic phone...
‘Wow!’ Randy was looking at some stunning footage Corrin had taken, and they were speaking about apertures and such.
Possibly, Grace thought as she selected dessert, she’d put herself a little on the outside right from the start. When they’d first introduced themselves she hadn’t really wanted to admit how worried she was about her mum, so had been vague with her responses, and had perhaps sounded standoffish—which hadn’t been her intention.
Grace was eating some fruit, the meal almost over, when Randy glanced towards the entrance and rolled his eyes.
‘Late as always...’
She knew who he was referring to—a loud group who neither changed for dinner nor removed their shoes.
‘I swear they’re developers,’ Randy said, standing up, as did his wife. ‘Enjoy the peace here while you can—it won’t last long if they get their hands on it...’
He wished everyone goodnight and left.
‘Do you think they are developers?’ Grace asked Corrin.
‘They are not interested in much.’ Corrin shrugged and, collecting her camera, told Grace she was going to bed. ‘Ich geh ins bett.’
‘Sleep well.’ Grace smiled.
Given the early-morning starts, they all seemed to drift off to bed about nine. Well, except for the newlyweds, who played Uno every night! For Grace, having spent the past couple of years working late into the night, as well as keeping an ear out for her mother, it felt a little early for the day to be over.
She wandered from the dining area, happy to be away from the obnoxious group that had just arrived. Not quite ready for bed, she took a chair beside a low table close to the walkway. There was no internet or phone signal, but Grace scrolled through her phone, trying to find the footage she’d taken tonight.
‘Watch out for the monkeys!’ Felicity warned as she passed. ‘I’ll see you bright and early...’
It was dark and late as Carter approached the resort.
He slowed the speedboat as he passed the longhouses, so as not to disturb the Iban people, as was the custom here.
Usually he arrived at his grandfather’s by helicopter, but he had arranged for his speedboat to be waiting and had travelled by river. He’d made several stops along the way, both at the resorts and sharing meals with the locals, finding out all he could before meeting with Arif. After this he would travel on to his late grandfather’s, but soon, Carter hoped, he could head back to the States—or Janana, given the last-minute cancellation of his meeting with Sahir.
Pulling in to the jetty, he stared at the dark stretch of river beyond, thinking of the turn-off a few miles ahead and the network of tributaries to negotiate before he came to the part of the world he hated the most.
‘Carter!’
As he secured his boat Jamal, Arif’s wife, came down the stairs to greet him.
‘Welcome...we heard you were back.’
‘Word travels,’ Carter agreed.
‘I haven’t seen you for so long. Not since the funeral.’ Jamal met his eyes then. ‘I can’t even remember the last time you visited us here at the resort.’
She pushed out a smile, but he could see the worry behind it.
‘A suite is ready for you, of course, though Arif is not here right now. He’s taking a night group out, but he’ll be back by morning.’
‘That’s fine.’
He was actually relieved to avoid heavy topics tonight, as well as the ongoing tension between himself and Arif. Instead, he asked about the couple’s young children, and found out the eldest was out in the jungle with his father tonight.
‘Already?’ Carter frowned, appalled at the thought of a child out there. ‘Reheeq’s only four...’
‘He’s six—and you went out long before then.’ Jamal laughed. ‘Here...’ She gave him a key. ‘Do you want dinner while your luggage is unloaded?’
‘I’m fine,’ Carter declined. ‘I’ve had a lot of stops along the way.’
‘Then I’ll show you to your suite...’
‘No need.’ Carter knew the place like the back of his hand.
‘It’s good you’re here,’ Jamal said, then glanced up from the little jetty to the softly lit dining area above. ‘I had better go...there are still guests dining...’
She dashed off, which in itself was unusual for Jamal, but walking down the walkway he heard rather raucous laughter from the dining area and knew she must be busy.
For most the resort was a tranquil paradise, with trailing flowers, the sound of cicadas... But for Carter, being back was his own version of hell. The dense jungle was not just close, it shrouded the resort and—call it denial—he would by far prefer not to have known that Arif and his young son were out there tonight.
But then from dark thoughts there was a sudden and very unexpected distraction.
It would appear that Grace Andrews, the woman from the airport, was staying here at the resort.
Carter recognised her immediately—recalled her name instantly. He’d even thought about her on the flight. Flying at altitude, cabin lights dimmed, he’d found that he’d smiled when recalling their brief interaction, and how she’d blushed when he’d overheard her calling him ‘sir’.
Now her beauty, even in the dim lighting, was almost luminescent, and his eyes were instantly drawn to where she sat on a large chair, with her legs tucked under her, looking through her phone. She was wearing a red sarong, revealing slender arms and shoulders, and her hair was tied high in a loose knot. She was alone.
‘How are the ears?’ he asked, and watched her jolt.
‘Oh!’ she said as she looked up. ‘It’s you.’
Then she smiled, her full lips spreading, as did the pink tinge to her creamy complexion. She smiled not just with her eyes, as she had so briefly at the airport, and not just with her lush lips, but with her whole self.
Putting down her phone and uncurling her legs, she sat up.
For Carter the initial impact he’d felt on sighting her was followed by two counter punches—one to his groin, as his body reacted to her effortless beauty in a familiar way, and also a rare hit to his chest, a surge of pleasure simply to see her warm smile. Though he doubted Grace could begin to comprehend just how welcome her greeting was at this intolerable time.
‘My ears are much better, thank you.’
He watched as she tucked loose tendrils of hair behind little pixie-looking ears. After a difficult few days Grace really was a sight for sore eyes. Oh, there had been no hostility on his journey—the locals were too kind and welcoming for that. It was more that he’d been able to feel their concern, and a slight air of suspicion also—which, given it was his cousin who posed the danger, he knew was merited.
Yes, Grace Andrews was a pleasant surprise indeed.
‘Your voice is a lot...’ He paused before selecting his word, thinking how loud it had been when he’d woken her. It was gentler now, as well as a little throaty and... ‘A lot softer than I recall.’
And all the huskier for seeing you! Grace thought, clearing her throat, while wondering what on earth had happened to her vocal cords.
He was as stunning as she’d remembered him to be. And, yes, when recalling their first meeting she’d wondered if she’d somehow exaggerated his beauty. But if anything she’d underplayed it. He wore a dark, untucked yet fitted shirt, with the sleeves pushed up, and grey linen trousers. He was unshaven and sporting several days’ worth of dark stubble. But even casually dressed, even with that black hair a touch dishevelled, he cut an expensive dash.
‘All alone?’ he asked, glancing down at the single iced tea on her table.
‘Yes. Well, except for the newlyweds and...’ She gestured with her head to the noisy group in the dining area behind.
‘Are they in your tour group?’
‘No, thank goodness.’ Grace shook her head. ‘They got here before us. I think they’re...’ She halted, certain he didn’t want to hear her musings, but it would seem she was wrong.
‘Mind if I join you?’ he said, gesturing to the empty seat opposite.
‘Of course not.’
‘Do you want a drink?’ he offered. ‘I’m going to find some wine.’
‘I’d love one—though I doubt you’ll have much luck. I think there’s only beer.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
As he sauntered off she briefly closed her eyes, warning herself not to read too much into him joining her. It wasn’t as if he could be spoiled for company! She had to somehow ignore just how gorgeous he was and her almost violent attraction to him.
She took a deep breath, deciding to examine this moment later.
This moment when her heart felt like a trapped butterfly in her throat.
This moment when she was still fighting the surge of adrenaline that had made her want to leap from her seat the second she saw him—like some overgrown puppy.
She opened her eyes to the sight of him returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He gave a slow smile of triumph as he held up the bottle, and it felt as if she was the only woman here.
Well, she was the only woman sitting alone here, Grace reminded herself.
Yet somehow, holding her in his gaze, he made her feel a little as if she was the only woman in the world.
Oh, yes, it would be far wiser to dwell on his impact later. These feelings he evoked were unfamiliar.
Tantalisingly so...
Carter pulled out the cushioned chair opposite Grace, ensuring a clear view of his target—the group of men in the dining area didn’t look like regular tourists.
‘I feel at a bit of a disadvantage,’ Grace admitted as he sat.
‘How so?’
‘Well, you saw my passport, so you know my name, my age, where I’m from...’
‘Ah, but I have a terrible memory,’ he teasingly lied. Then, while opening the bottle, told her all he had gleaned. ‘Grace Andrews, twenty-five, born in London, though I didn’t get your date of birth.’
She laughed lightly, though her green eyes waited and if he wanted to observe these men, then he’d have to give up more.
‘Carter,’ he offered, ‘Carter Bennett.’ He briefly glanced over to the group as he poured the wine. He was excellent at mining information and decided to utilise that skill now. ‘God, they’re loud,’ he commented, leading the conversation back to where she’d left it a short while ago. ‘Usually everyone’s in bed by now, or winding down—they seem to be just getting started...’
‘Mmm...’ She shrugged creamy shoulders, then, rather than elaborating on the group, asked about him. ‘You didn’t say how old you were.’
‘Thirty-five.’ He chose to be more direct. ‘So, who are they?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ She shook her head. ‘Randy, one of the guys in our group, heard them discussing building an airstrip. He thinks they might be developers, or something.’
Carter at first made no comment, but he was rather sure he knew who they were now—they weren’t developers, they were television or movie executives wanting easier access to the residence and land. He needed to observe them some more to be certain. While inviting a tourist to regale their adventures was something he’d usually avoid, he was rather brilliant at feigning interest when it was to his advantage. ‘How are you enjoying your trip...?’ he enquired politely.
‘Very much.’ She nodded. ‘It’s gone by too fast...just a couple more days here...’
‘Then what?’
‘I still haven’t made up my mind,’ Grace told him as, rather than sliding it across the table, Carter handed her a drink.
Grace took it a little tentatively, hoping her hands weren’t too slippery from a mixture of both the humidity and her own jangled nerves, but he held the glass securely until she had a firm hold.
It was the tiniest thing, really, but she was grateful that he at least was entirely in control. Or perhaps it was just that the brief touch of their fingers and fleeting contact hadn’t affected him in the slightest.
Of course not.
‘Really, I’d be happy to stay on a little longer,’ Grace admitted. ‘I’d love to see orangutans.’
‘You haven’t yet?’
‘A nest, and one from a distance, though I’m dreadful with binoculars.’ She gave him a smile. ‘Seeing orangutans has been on my bucket list since before I even knew what bucket lists were...’
‘How come?’
She blushed, and it was something she tended not to do. Or maybe she did—she’d just never been so conscious of it until she met him.
‘It’s silly...’ she dismissed her reasoning. ‘My father got me a baby one for Christmas when I was little. Not a real one...’
‘I would hope not! I’ve heard they do terrible damage to curtains.’
She smiled at his subtle humour, and then it turned into a laugh, and his company was so pleasant, even if there was still heat in her cheeks.
‘You can send him a photo of a real one soon.’
‘I don’t think so...’
‘You’ll see plenty if you go to one of the rehabilitation centres—’
‘I meant, we’re not in contact.’ She gave a tight smile and got back to talking about the orangutans. ‘They’ve always fascinated me. I’d just love to see one in the wild.’ Before he could say it, she put up her hand. ‘I know. Felicity has already reminded me it’s not a zoo.’
‘Felicity?’
‘One of the guides,’ she explained. ‘I believe she’s here doing research. Ornithology,’ Grace added. ‘Anyway, seeing orangutans in the wild is probably not all I’ve built it up to be...’
He opened his mouth, as if about to say something, then must have changed his mind and closed it. But as she went to take a sip of her wine perhaps he changed his mind again. ‘Grace, it’s even better.’
‘Oh...’
Her surprise wasn’t at his comment, more at the slight husk to his voice, the note of pensiveness, even. But then he gave a casual shrug, as if it might reduce the sentiment of his words.
She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. ‘You’re not here on a tour...’
‘Is it that obvious?’
She shrugged. ‘You just seem...’ Her head moved to one side in slight assessment. ‘Well, you arrived alone, and you know where the wine’s kept.’
He gave a half-laugh. ‘My grandfather has—or rather he had a place a few miles from here.’
She blinked, and he knew she had noticed the change of tense when he’d mentioned his grandfather.
Please don’t offer condolences , he thought, but she just briefly met his eyes and a gave him a pinched, regretful smile that said enough.
Actually, it said more—it told him that she’d heard, or rather understood, he’d rather not go there.
‘So,’ Grace summed up, ‘not a tourist, but not a local either?’
‘Correct.’
He was grateful she’d changed the topic, and he rested his eyes upon her as she told him they’d all seen the pygmy elephants tonight.
‘Just incredible...’
There was a tremor of excitement in her voice, and he found his focus honing in on her, the men in the dining area forgotten as her delicate hands reached for her phone.
‘I took some photos, and I think I got a couple of videos. I was about to look when you...’ She paused, and then got back to searching on her phone.
Carter was not one for tourist photos—or any photos. Usually someone reaching for their phone would have him reaching for his wine, or the exit—and yet as she held up a grainy image on an utterly basic phone Carter found out something.
It wasn’t just elephants that didn’t forget.
There was a twist inside him, a whisper of long-ago carefree days spent tracking them with Arif. How everything would halt when they chose to appear by the river—even seasoned locals could not but stop and smile at their majesty.
His father had been in constant awe of them too.
‘Carter, look!’
It had been more than half a century since he’d recalled his father’s voice with such clarity.
Not that Grace could know that, of course.
‘It really was the most incredible thing I’ve ever...’ she started but then halted, perhaps changed her mind, because she went to place her phone back down on the table. ‘You must have seen them a thousand times.’
He was about to nod, even if only to halt the memories raining in, yet he didn’t want to crush her fervour nor shut it down. Also, for the first time, there was no pain in recall.
‘Not for a long while,’ Carter admitted, standing to move his seat around to be by her side. The men he’d intended to watch—the very reason he was here—were forgotten.
‘This was earlier...’ Grace told him, and he tried to look down at the phone rather than notice the dash of coral polish on her toenails. ‘We first saw them by the river.’
His gaze left her pretty feet to look at the images, and there was something about the photos lack of polish that made there really rather special.
‘That’s quite a herd,’ he commented.
‘Eleven...maybe twelve.’ She nodded, and he caught the scent of fragrant hair and warm skin. ‘And there was a calf,’ she added. ‘Well, two. But one was just so tiny. This was taken at the start.’
She showed him a very shaky video, and he looked at the elephants at the riverside, their silvery ears flapping as if waving, carrying on eating and bathing, oblivious to their audience.
God, but he remembered this.
Carter was certainly not one for poring over holiday images, and such, yet he patiently watched her slender finger as she swiped through more photos, the sky darkening with each image.
‘We were heading back to the resort when they appeared again. I don’t think Felicity was expecting it at all! We had to stop to let them cross.’
He could hear the tremor of excitement in her voice.
‘It was getting dark, so you can’t see much...’
‘May I?’
He took the phone and watched the footage, heard her laughter in the short video. It moved him. Her slight gasp as another elephant appeared, followed by her cry of delight as a small calf disappeared beneath the water.
The dulcet notes of her pure pleasure were captivating.
‘I didn’t even know they could swim,’ she admitted, her head moving closer to his, a curl just dusting his cheek. ‘And then...’
Together they watched as one of the mothers pushed her little one up onto the muddy bank and the elders stood patiently, waiting for all to gather.
‘They really take care of each other.’
‘They do.’ Carter said. ‘Once, I thought...’
He halted—not just his voice, but his thoughts—as he always did when his mind drifted back. Yet as he stared at the images on the phone her silence was patient enough to allow him a small recollection of happier times.
‘Once, I thought I’d found an abandoned calf.’
‘Oh, my goodness. What did you do?’
‘Nothing—luckily. Arif intervened, told me the herd were close. It could have turned nasty—they weigh in the tons.’
‘Arif?’ Grace checked. ‘The guide here?’
He nodded.
‘Thank goodness for friends.’ She laughed, but then it trailed off. ‘I almost didn’t come... I cancelled this trip a few times. But my friend Violet practically marched me to the airport.’
She didn’t elaborate, and Carter found he wanted her to.
Grace had found out something too—the inescapability of desire.
They were both looking down at her now blank phone, and she was suddenly utterly aware that he sat close to her. She could see his long, lean thigh next to hers, and his beautiful fingers holding her phone, the sorts of things she’d never really noticed in a man before...
Since that first meeting at airport she’d been doing her level best to get him out of her mind, and now he’d arrived at the resort she was trying to treat him just as she would any of her fellow travellers.
Yet for all her denial, for all her bravado, her heart—which had barely slowed since his arrival—picked up pace again. And when their fingers brushed as he handed her back the phone, the butterfly in her throat felt like a trapped, panicking moth.
‘Thanks,’ Grace said, placing it on the table and wondering if he’d move his chair back now. But he remained by her side, which meant they had to turn a little to face each other. ‘It’s nice to show someone.’
‘Aren’t you all swapping photos at dinner?’
He clearly knew the resort well. ‘I don’t really...’ She didn’t know how to say that she didn’t quite fit in—it wasn’t a flattering thing to admit. ‘They’re mainly couples.’
‘Yes?’
‘And I’m not the best photographer...’
‘I liked your pictures.’
‘Thank you.’ She rolled her eyes, but then her gaze went straight back to his. ‘They don’t get my jokes either. Mind you, they’re pretty dreadful.’
‘I’ll try and remember to laugh.’
Carter didn’t look like a man who laughed very often, and yet he made her smile with rare ease. More, there was a gentle yet particular attention he gave.
As if he even registered her blink.
Certainly she noticed when he did—the bat of his spiky black lashes and then the captivating return of a slate-grey that seemed to set the world into slow motion.
Her reaction was heightening—more now than just a faint blush or a fluttering heart. There was a pleasurable air of light tension. Her breasts, her stomach, and even lower felt subtly...provoked. Stirring, stretching, tuning up like the orchestra at the start of a concert...or rather tuning in to new sensations. She had never felt such attraction, and most bewildering of all, for Grace it felt reciprocated.
As if Carter felt it too.
Of course not, she told herself, reaching for her wine, determined to appear unaffected. It wasn’t just that he was out of her league, or that he was out of her realm, it was the fear of misreading him. The fear that it was woeful inexperience that had her misinterpreting the static air between them.
He took a drink, drained his glass, and her eyes flicked to his mouth as his pink tongue lightly licked his bottom lip.
Such a simple motion, yet Grace found herself, both entranced and determined to act as if she hadn’t noticed.
Grace tried to deny she was, for the first time, on fire.