Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
‘S O ...’ C ARTER NOTICED Grace pushing out a smile and retreating from their silent flirt. ‘You’re visiting your grandfather’s home?’ she asked.
For a moment there he’d thought they might kiss, pick up his key and head to bed...
It was that easy for him.
Yet, as pleasurable as an escape would be, he wasn’t here for that.
And also he was enjoying their conversation.
Unexpectedly so.
‘Yes.’ Carter nodded.
He rarely discussed personal matters, yet here he was, sitting above the river, dragged back to a world he’d hoped to avoid. And he’d never see her again.
‘He left his estate to both my cousin and I.’ He gave a small grimace and she must have noted it.
‘You don’t get on?’
‘We don’t,’ he agreed, topping up their glasses. ‘I have no idea what my grandfather was thinking. He must have been losing his mind.’
‘Please don’t—’
She put up a hand, her voice still soft, but passionate and urgent. Enough so that he put down the bottle.
‘Sorry...’ She seemed embarrassed to have halted him. ‘I just hate that turn of phrase. My mother actually is losing her mind.’
‘Then I apologise for my careless words.’
‘It’s fine.’ She shrugged tense shoulders, took a breath, and he watched her force them to relax. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’
Grace didn’t really know why she had.
For days she’d actively avoided the topic, and though she’d started to regret holding back from the group it felt too late now to amend that. But with Carter there was a certain allure in his grey eyes. Or perhaps, sitting there on a sultry night, surrounded by a sky hung with stars, it was easier, just for a short while, to let down her perpetual guard.
‘When you say she’s losing her mind...?’
Grace would never get used to saying it, and her lips were tight around her words. ‘She has dementia.’
‘She must be young?’
‘Yes. She’s just gone into a nursing home. A nice one,’ she added, deciding she’d said enough—it was hardly gentle conversation.
‘How long has she been unwell?’
Grace hadn’t expected the question. She looked at eyes that, colour-wise, remained as cold and grey as a winter’s day, yet she felt as if she sat by a fire, the world outside a window, all the warmth and comfort here.
‘A few years...’
She’d been thinking back on it earlier, as she’d lain on the hammock. ‘I never even considered it at first.’ She saw...not a frown, more his eyes narrowing in a kind of interest. And maybe it was the wine, or maybe this week had given her space, because for the first time she felt able to examine those bewildering times.
‘She became...’ How best to put it? ‘Tricky.’
‘I am guessing that’s an understatement?’
‘Not at first.’ Grace shook her head. ‘It was hard to pinpoint, I just knew something was wrong. I tried to rationalise it...’ She gave a pale smile. ‘Ignore it.’
‘Did the rest of your family notice?’
‘It’s mainly just us. There’s an aunt and cousin, but they didn’t think anything was amiss...’ Grace said. ‘I was sharing a flat with my friend Violet, and I moved back home. I didn’t tell her why.’
‘How come?’
‘There are some things that you just don’t share.’ Grace thought back. ‘Things you don’t want others to see. Well, that’s how it felt for me.’ She looked at him. ‘I felt disloyal, maybe?’
He frowned, as if deeply considering her words. For a moment she thought he had a question, or was about to say something, but he stayed silent.
‘Then she accused Violet of stealing a necklace.’
‘That was the tipping point?’
‘No.’ Grace swallowed before adding. ‘Unfortunately not.’
She’d stopped crying a very long time ago, but this memory was one of the few things that could almost reduce her to tears.
‘I didn’t accuse her...but I didn’t defend her as I should have.’
The cicadas were silent, as if they too were listening, but then a loud burst of laughter from the group of men snapped her back to the present.
‘It was the impetus to talk to our family doctor.’ She met Carter’s very accommodating gaze. ‘When I was first told all I worried about was that it might be hereditary.’ She was past putting herself in a flattering light. ‘How selfish is that?’
‘Practical, maybe?’ Carter suggested. ‘I’d want to know.’
‘Well, her type of dementia isn’t, as it turned out.’ She thought for a moment. ‘It’s just a cruel disease...’
‘Was her illness the reason you cancelled your trip?’
Grace nodded. ‘I was her carer—and working too, of course. But I was lucky enough to be able to do my job from home...data entry...’
‘So, you were doing two jobs?’
‘I’m not sure taking care of my mother counted as a job .’ She frowned at his rather direct summing up. ‘And as well as that I would never have...’ She paused, that disloyal feeling revisiting her. No, she would not be discussing her mother’s finances. ‘Well, if I’d known all that was coming, I wouldn’t have planned a month away.’
‘But now she’s being taken care of?’
‘Yes...’ She wavered, knowing he couldn’t possibly get the pain behind her choice. But neither did he need to know, so she forced a smile. ‘There’s a choir group, gardening...she’s got a better social life than I have!’
He didn’t return her smile. Only it didn’t feel as if another of her little jokes had fallen flat—instead, it was as if he was giving her a pause before elaborating.
But she was already a little stunned that she’d told him so much.
This stranger.
Who magnetised her...who’d drawn thoughts out of her like iron filings...
She felt embarrassed by how much she’d said. ‘Sorry for oversharing.’ She grimaced. ‘I haven’t told anyone here. This place, though...’ She looked out to the river and the sky above. ‘It makes you slow down.’
‘And, of course, there’s no internet,’ he pointed out.
‘True!’ She glanced up as the newlyweds passed and said goodnight. ‘Sleep well.’ Grace said.
‘Newlyweds?’ he checked.
She nodded.
He frowned. ‘Playing cards?’
I know! Grace wanted to say, because she’d thought exactly the same.
She didn’t go there, though—after all, she had no sex life to compare.
However, if she were on her honeymoon...with someone as...
‘I ought to get to bed.’ She put down her glass. ‘We’re meeting at dawn. Last chance to see the orangutans!’
‘Good luck,’ Carter said, and put down his glass too. ‘I’ll walk you back to your villa.’
‘There’s really no need—it’s just there.’
It was literally ten or so steps away, but he looked at her as if there were things she did not know.
‘There’s every need,’ he responded. ‘We have company.’
He nodded towards the fence that lined the route to her door and she jumped a little when she saw a group of macaque monkeys, sitting happily observing them.
‘I didn’t even notice.’ She gave a nervous laugh and watched as he picked up their glasses and bottle.
‘They can cause a lot of havoc in one night,’ he explained, then left her to return the bottle and glasses to wherever he’d located them.
So could he , Grace thought, popping her phone into her bag as she awaited his return.
An hour in his company, immersed in those grey eyes, and her head was in disorder, thrown completely off balance by her own reaction to this intriguing man.
And, while she’d terminated their night, it had nothing to do with not enjoying his company. And certainly it wasn’t because of her early start in the morning.
Quite simply, she was desperate for order to be restored.
For the fire he seemed to have lit inside her to be doused.
‘It’s that one,’ she said, pointing to her villa, and he walked her the short distance, the curious monkeys observing them as they arrived at her door.
‘It was nice seeing you again, Grace.’
‘And you.’ Grace nodded and went for her key.
Then she looked up at him.
More than nice.
And despite her previous need to conclude things, now that the moment was here she was suddenly desperate for more of this disorder, desperate to explore these new sensations, to know his kiss.
Possibly her eyes revealed some of her thoughts, for his fingers took a stray strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. His direct touch came as a relief rather than a shock. It felt like tangible proof that the attraction was mutual—that she wasn’t imagining that someone so suave and gorgeous might be desirous too. His palm remained, and rather than brush his hand away, she lingered in the bliss of the slight, lightly provocative touch, wanting to arch her neck to rest into it.
‘Unexpected,’ she added.
‘Nicely so,’ he agreed.
Her nerves felt as if they were wound tight enough to snap, yet there was also a low beat of excitement...like distant drums. Did he know this was her most thrilling moment? That standing here, miles from anywhere, bathed in stars and touched by him, she was feeling the most peace, the most excitement she’d ever known? And it wasn’t the cruel shelter her mother’s disease had caused that had kept sensation at bay. Nothing had ever come close to the thrill of his company, his touch. And if she knew how, she would step into his kiss, or lift her face...
Carter was sorely tempted to lower his head and taste that ripe mouth. More than tempted. He wanted to gather that slender body and hold it against his, to sink into familiar escape with this captivating beauty...
She wasn’t used to this, though—he was experienced enough to tell that.
There had been two chances to move their conversation to bed and she’d refused them both.
Now, though, he felt her warm cheek, saw that full, waiting mouth, and he knew where it would surely lead.
And she’d regret it.
Not the night, but his cold departure in the morning.
Silence thrummed. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were on his. And he was so close to succumbing... But then he heard a low gecker from their audience on the fence, followed by a small coo. He glanced over her shoulder as three possibly wise monkeys brought him sharply to reason, and instead of kissing her and doing more, so much more, Carter used his mouth for good.
‘Goodnight, Grace.’
He saw the dart of confusion in her eyes, the warmth of her cheek flaring to heat his palm as he denied them.
But surely it was better this way?
He was here to gather information and then get the hell out. He knew, too, that being here always put him in a dark place.
As well as that, she hadn’t been versed in his cold and soulless heart—those gorgeous green eyes were unaware that he had nothing, nothing other than sex to give.
‘You should go in,’ he said, dropping his hand and then watching as she fumbled in her small bag for her key.
Grace took two attempts to get the blasted key in the lock. Humiliated and embarrassed as the sexiest man she’d ever encountered sent her off to bed without so much as a kiss when she’d been so sure.
With her back turned she bit her lip at the sting of his rejection. But, used to hiding her true feelings, she managed an over-the-shoulder smile.
‘Goodnight.’
‘Sleep well.’
She closed the door between them and felt the breeze from the fan, but it neither cooled nor composed her.
She felt awkward and upset that she’d so spectacularly misread things. But as she stripped off her sarong and put out her clothes for the morning Grace groaned in embarrassment when she thought about how she’d shown him the elephant videos, then droned on about her mother.
God, no wonder she hadn’t been on a date in for ever, or been kissed in...
Grace honestly couldn’t remember.
Actually, she could. That guy at teaching college. But as she stepped into the shower his name remained elusive.
Carter wouldn’t kiss like he had.
That much she knew.
Even the shower did little to smother the orchestra trapped in her frustrated body, for it played on tunelessly. Only now it played into a void. She shaved her legs—just because—and she shaved under her arms, conditioned her hair... But it was her centre that ached for attention. Her small breasts felt too big, and between her thighs she ached, even as she wrapped herself in a towel.
Of course he didn’t want her in that way, Grace reprimanded her reflection in the mirror over the sink. He’d merely been passing the time.
Her cheeks were still flushed as she brushed her teeth—and, no, it wasn’t from the wind on the boat or the sun. Replacing her toothbrush, she stared at her reflection in the dim low-wattage light and wished that Carter stood behind her and touched her cheek where he just had. Wished the night had ended differently.
As she lay in bed the monkeys scampered across the roof for a while, but soon even they gave in and she was left with a heavy regret.
She wished she’d known Carter Bennett’s kiss.
Then, just on the edge of sleep, when her defences slipped a fraction, allowing her to wander the unguarded corridors in her mind, she dared admit to more.
She wished she’d known far more than just his kiss...