Chapter 13
I can’t even begin to describe how rough I feel when I wake up.
The whole drinking too much wine and crushing rejection thing had me tossing and turning all night.
My cheeks are burning with the humiliation of it.
How am I going to face Cam today? I threw myself at him in the most obvious way.
I did the whole lips-pouting, bosom-heaving, lashes-batting routine, and more or less demanded that he kiss me, and he still did not have the courtesy to act on it.
After all, the attraction was mutual. He said so himself.
Or did he?
Was I so under the influence that I imagined he was more into me than he actually was?
When he said I shouldn’t look at him like that did he really mean I shouldn’t look at him like that?
Was I, in fact, coming on too strong and it spooked him?
He certainly seemed like he couldn’t get away fast enough.
But the crackling energy between us… he must have felt it. He must have.
Unless he didn’t.
How mortifying. I’m never drinking that much again.
Without any way of telling the time, it takes me ages to summon the courage to get out of bed.
Ages. So long, in fact, that the sun is high in the sky, the heat is almost impenetrable when I step out through the patio doors and the villa is completely empty.
I wander through to the kitchen to find Cam has left a note on the bench to say that he has had to go back to the production village to sort out some things. Nothing about last night. Not one word.
I feel so deeply depressed about it. And what makes it worse is that it’s all my own doing.
He told me very clearly that he is not ready for a relationship and, even if he was, he does not mix business with pleasure.
He couldn’t have been any clearer. And yet…
here I am. Thinking about him all the time.
Dreaming about him at night. And trying my best to make him laugh just to see his face light up and the sadness fade from his eyes.
His kind, honest, worldly blue-green eyes.
He has already risked quite a lot for me. It’s not his fault that I’m overreacting, my emotions are running wild and I’ve built up this elaborate fantasy where we fall madly in love with each other just because he’s my newly discovered type.
The last thing he needs is for my massive unrequited crush to cost him his job and livelihood. I will pull myself together and behave like a grown woman. I will rein in my runaway libido and excessive flirting out of professional respect for him. It’s the least I can do.
Pep talk over, I decide to go for a dip in the pool to cool my passions.
I came all this way to see if Cameron was my type.
This has been undeniably confirmed. He is the perfect man.
I find him attractive to the point of never needing to look at another man again in my whole life.
Unfortunately, it would seem that every other woman on the planet feels the same way.
But still, at least I can return home with that box well and truly ticked.
I wanted to do a long-haul flight to somewhere exotic and I have, so that box is ticked, and so is the stepping outside my comfort zone to take a few risks box.
I’d say hurling myself into an underground cave full of ancient healing waters, trekking into the middle of a jungle and falling head over heels for the only man that’s not emotionally available in the whole of Mexico would definitely constitute self-challenge and personal growth.
And as for Arrogant Josh… Josh who? Now that I’ve had a taste of what real men are like there’s no going back for me.
By the time I have swum over thirty lengths, I reach the conclusion that my time here is done.
I have no need to go on Love on the Island in search of love.
I will save everyone a load of trouble and ask to withdraw.
I would hate to get Cam into trouble if the TV company finds out I’ve swapped places with Lois and he knew about it.
And I could always ask them to keep my flight home open until I’ve had a chance to explore this wonderful country.
I could even go island-hopping in the Caribbean for the entire summer to give Lois and Tyrone some space to achieve their couples goals.
I float around face up in the pool making angel wings with my arms and legs. How lucky am I to be given this opportunity? I shouldn’t be going home feeling anything but grateful that I met him and had this brief but wonderful and intoxicating experience.
‘Mind if I join you?’
My eyes snap open as I stare up into a silhouette. Cam slips into the water with barely a splash. I swim to the end of the pool to meet him. Might as well get this sorry embarrassment over with.
I instantly regret it. Cam’s handsome features emerge from the water to take in air.
He swipes the hair from his forehead, water trickling seductively down his face, round his lips and down towards the firm chest not quite hidden below the water.
He takes my breath away. He literally takes my breath away.
For a horrible second, I think I might burst into tears, my emotions are swirling around so uncontrollably. I wonder if it is the heat. Do extreme temperatures affect your ability to act normal?
Cam opens his eyes and I’m surprised to see my own sadness reflecting back at me. He holds my gaze for too long so that my cheeks feel like they are on fire. I find myself biting my lip and turning away from him.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, causing me to look back at him. ‘For last night.’ It’s almost as though he is dragging the words from the depths of his soul and that’s all he can manage.
I try my best to smile bravely back. ‘It’s okay. I completely understand.’
I can’t tear my eyes from his. If he has an ounce of understanding of how a woman works, then he will read between the lines and know that I am completely and utterly crushed.
It most definitely is not okay, and I do not in any way, shape or form understand why in the heat of the moment he had to reject me so thoroughly.
His jaw falls open as though he is about to say something, but he closes it before the words reach his lips.
‘I’ll go back home,’ I blurt out. ‘It’s for the best.’
Cam says nothing as we let the words hang between us.
‘Besides, we both know I shouldn’t have come.’
Again, he says nothing. He simply takes in what I’m saying.
‘And anyway, I’m not really cut out for this sort of show. Or any show really.’
Still nothing.
‘So, if… if you don’t mind, I’ll just… I’ll just pack up my things and…
you can keep the emergency first aid kit and insect repellent if you want.
You might need it. And the Imodium might come in handy too if you’re going to be drinking spicy beer.
And the wipes might help you avoid catching any bugs.
In fact, I’ll leave you the surgical gown too, just in case. ’
I can’t read his face. I can’t tell what he is thinking at all. He is simply standing staring at me until he finally nods.
‘Sure. If that’s what you want.’
I sniff back the threat of tears and chew my lip to stop it wobbling. ‘It is.’
It sooooo isn’t, I am practically silent-screaming at him.
Why isn’t he asking me to stay?
A heavy silence hangs in the air.
‘I’ll check out flight options back to the UK,’ he says stiffly. He swiftly glides to the pool edge, clamps his hands on the side and, as though the universe is kicking me while I’m down, hauls himself up and out in one languid movement.
My God, the man is magnificent. Taut muscles ripple across his back as he picks up his towel to dab his athletic torso in slow motion, before he strolls into the villa without so much as a backward glance.
What just happened? One minute I’m here, there’s sunshine, this amazing pool, the world’s best human wearing only swimming trunks and a hunky smile, and the next, I’m sulking for England in my room as I pack my one wet belonging into my case.
I towel-dry my hair, pin it into a topknot and slip into my short shorts and yesterday’s poncho top.
I wheel the empty case to the door and try to be grateful for the time I’ve spent here. I slap on a smile for Cam as he picks up his car keys. He’s blissfully unaware that he’s adding insult to injury by looking and smelling fabulous.
I open the door and feel the warm breeze blow through. My heart sinks a mile at the thought of leaving.
‘Libby, wait. You came a long way to be on the show. I’m sorry if, in some way, I have ruined that for you.’
He looks so genuine. I ache to throw my arms around him.
‘No. No, you haven’t. It’s not your fault I’m leaving.
I’m the one who shouldn’t have come in the first place.
I’ve absolutely loved the few days I’ve had here.
’ Now is a good time to inspect my footwear.
I keep my eyes trained on my sneakers. ‘With you.’
Silence and plenty of it while we think of what to say next. Me, trying not to let him see the effect he has on me, sparkles shooting from my eyes, that type of thing; and him, wondering how to politely remind me that he isn’t interested in me like that.
‘Leave the case. You won’t need it.’
I frown. ‘Why? What’s going on?’
Cam throws me a bittersweet smile. ‘There isn’t a flight available today. And…’ He gives me a meaningful look. ‘I’m not sure I made myself clear last night.’
‘You seemed pretty clear to me.’
He tilts his head. ‘I didn’t want to confuse you.’
‘Confuse me?’ I say. ‘I think we both know what I wanted. The confusion is with you. I mean, I get it,’ I tell him. ‘Last night. You’d get sacked if we were caught… you know, wouldn’t you?’
‘It’s not that. What if you’d got the call and decided to go into the villa? I didn’t want you to feel awkward about having to go with other…’
‘But I don’t want to go with other…’ I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. There’s no chance any woman with a pulse would choose any other man over him.
He clears his throat nervously. ‘Are you saying that you…?’
I blink slowly. ‘Are you saying that you…?’ I say, taking a step towards him.
You could cut the sexual tension with a knife.
He instinctively reaches for me. Our faces inches apart, his strong arms holding me tight. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. I feel the heat of his skin on mine. The energy between us suddenly changes. This is it.
The moment.
The build-up to the kiss has commenced yet again and fireworks are going off in my brain.
The kiss is forthcoming. Cam’s gaze has shifted to my lips.
If he doesn’t make a move, then I definitely will because he fancies me. I’m 100 per cent certain of it. I reach slowly behind me to close the door when a shadow falls over us.
‘Well, this looks cosy!’
We spring apart. Porscha is standing looking furious, hands firmly on hips, legs wide apart as though she’s a politician on stage at a public rally, head tilted to one side.
She looks from Cam to me and back again. ‘Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?’