Chapter 26
I walked back into the villa after doing two circuits around the island hoping it would help me wrap my head around what I was about to do. It had worked somewhat, but when I got inside and heard the sound of running water, it hit me all over again.
Cam was showering.
Naked.
In what had been my shower only yesterday. Great. Just great.
I slumped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling as if willing myself to somehow fly through it and then proceed to fly all the way back home.
Perhaps to the other side of the galaxy, maybe I’d meet a wormhole on the way and disappear into the next fucking quadrant!
I hated this. Hated him. Hated that I was about to do something that went against every instinct I had, especially the one for self-preservation.
‘Fine!’ I sat up, trying to psych myself up. I would do it, but not for him. Definitely not for him. I’d do it for professionalism and Sharaz and justice and—
My thoughts ground to a screeching halt when the bathroom door swung open and Cam walked out. He was wearing what was possibly the world’s smallest towel. I blinked once. Twice. But no amount of blinking could erase what was in front of me. ‘What the hell are you wearing?’
‘A towel.’ He sounded totally unfazed.
‘No,’ I snapped, gesturing wildly at the fabric, which barely covered anything. ‘That is a fucking face cloth.’
‘Well, it’s all there was.’ He shrugged, unconcerned by what was an almost complete lack of cock coverage.
‘Do you always have to walk around with that thing out? Does it always have to be on full display?’
His lips twitched into one of those smug Cam smiles. ‘Why? Are you looking?’
‘I’m not trying to look, but you make it fairly hard not to. And don’t look so pleased with yourself, because this is horrifying. I’m horrified. And deeply, deeply concerned about your complete and utter lack of decency and decorum.’
He burst out laughing. ‘Since when did you use the word “decorum”, or even care about it?’
‘When I can see your left testicle hanging out from behind a face cloth!’ I said, and pointed.
Cam looked down. ‘It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.’
‘Just because I’ve seen it before doesn’t mean I want to see it again!’ I shielded my eyes as he reached down and tried to readjust himself, but failed miserably when something else popped out.
‘What?’ His face was a picture of innocence. ‘I was trying to put it back.’
‘Please don’t bother. In fact, please don’t make any sudden movements at all. In fact, never move again.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
I eyed him incredulously, and then slowly shook my head. ‘Not falling for it.’
‘Not falling for what?’ he asked, as if he wasn’t totally aware of what he was trying to do.
‘You think you know me. Well, let me tell you, you really don’t. Calling me “ma’am” is not going to rile me up. I refuse to be riled by you, or . . .’ I waved my arm in that general direction again, ‘that!’
He laughed, and then sauntered across the room and sat down. He actually sat!
‘God.’ I hid my face in my hands to shield my eyes.
‘So what did Sharaz say? Are we the Seychelles’ newest, hottest and most in love, can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other couple?’
I shook my head and let out an almighty sigh. ‘There are going to be rules, Cam. And you have to stick to them.’
‘What rules?’
‘Firstly, you’re not allowed to just hold my hand or touch me whenever you feel like it. No taking advantage of the situation.’
‘You know me. I’d never take advantage of something like this.’
‘What? Because last night you definitely didn’t take advantage when we were dancing and the Blade came over.’ I lifted my head. My hands were still plastered across my face and I only dared to peer at him through a small gap between my fingers. ‘You took that way too far.’
‘Well, I was trying to convince a trained assassin not to kill us, and he was looking rather suspiciously at us before I kissed you.’
‘Stick to the rules this time, trained assassin or not.’ I opened my fingers a little more.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Fine. No hand-holding, no unnecessary touching, no kisses. Whatever makes you comfortable.’ He leaned back slightly, that smug little smirk still on his stupid face. ‘You won’t regret this. It’s going to be great.’
‘Great?’ I scoffed loudly. ‘Working with you again is not the highlight of my life, that’s for damn sure.’
I took my hands away from my face; it seemed safe again, since nothing was popping out. ‘Do you seriously not know the difference between a face cloth, a hand towel and an actual towel?’
‘Apparently not. According to you, anyway.’
‘Well, maybe learn, okay? Look into it. Google what a towel looks like, ask ChatGPT if you’re so confused, something, anything. Please!’
He suddenly stood up and took a big, exaggerated step. A very, very dangerous move, given the state of the towel. I yelped as that thing under the face cloth swung like an elephant’s trunk. ‘Cam!’ I grabbed a pillow off the bed and tossed it at him. ‘Stay back!’
‘You’re really going to have to drop that aggressive attitude when you become Amber’s BFF.’ He continued walking towards me, still merrily swinging away. ‘And you’re also going to need a . . . how do I put this? A bit of a transformation.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know, turning you from prickly, unapproachable and quite frankly rather unfashionable—’
‘Fashion is subjective,’ I snapped.
‘Exactly, and you keep choosing the wrong subject.’
‘Ha ha!’ I said in a flat tone. ‘How long have you been storing up that lame line in your arsenal of bad comebacks?’
‘For a while, actually. I’ve been waiting for the right person to use it on, and look . . . you’re here.’
‘Stop!’ I held my hands up. This time he ground to a halt. ‘And by the way, I have fashionable clothes. Have you seen my bikini?’
‘I think everyone saw that bikini.’ Cam looked down at me on the bed. I didn’t like that, so I stood up and made myself as tall as I possibly could.
‘I think it’s going to take more than a bikini for Amber to let you into her inner sanctum.’
‘And what do you suggest?’
‘Neon toenails?’
‘I’m not painting my toenails neon.’
‘Maybe a manicure, then. What about some false nails?’
‘I’ve never worn false nails in my life, and I don’t plan on starting now.’
‘If you want Amber to warm to you, you’re going to literally need to fake it. Fake nails, fake lashes, but not fake designer bags. Someone like her can probably spot one of those from across the island.’
‘You want me to buy a bag?’
‘Yes, a shiny designer handbag, and maybe a gold belt. She was wearing that gold beaded sarong yesterday. And those glasses – Versace, weren’t they?’
‘You want me to buy Versace glasses and a gold sarong?’
‘Well, it’s not like you’re short on resources. Your employer is soon going to be one of the wealthiest women in the country.’
‘Fine,’ I huffed. The idea of shopping sounded like absolute torture. I’d only recently been shopping with Philly, and that had completed my annual quota.
‘And what are you going to do while I’m being aesthetically tortured?’
‘I’ll be planting listening devices in their room, digging up extra dirt on him, you know, general recon,’ he replied.
‘So while I’m out suffering, you’ll be doing fun stuff,’ I shot back.
‘Fun? Crawling through windows and rigging a room with bugs?’
‘Trust me, I’d rather be crawling through a window than making small talk while someone takes a file to my foot.’
Cam’s eyes drifted down to my feet. ‘More like a grinder.’
‘Hey!’ I shot back, but I still lifted one of them to inspect it. Okay, so maybe my heels were a little cracked. Maybe my feet had never been creamed or polished. ‘And what are you planning on doing with your appearance?’
‘Me? I’m perfect the way I am.’
I narrowed my eyes and advanced on him. ‘Perfect?’
‘Well, look at me.’ He gestured to himself. ‘I’m every bit the crypto-bro-mining-magnate-young-up-and-comer with a hot fiancé on my arm.’
‘Hot fiancé on your arm? Now that’s just downright offensive.’
‘It’s only offensive if it’s not true,’ he said, and he didn’t hide the fact that his eyes slid over me.
I planted my hands on my hips. ‘Cam, if you ever refer to me as your hot fiancé again, I’ll—’
‘Break my finger like the first time we met?’ He held his hand up and I looked at the still slightly crooked finger.
‘I’d forgotten about that,’ I said.
He took another step closer. ‘I haven’t. That day changed my entire life.’
His words made my spine stiffen and my stomach contract. But his next words did even more to me.
‘In fact, I haven’t forgotten a thing about that day.’
‘Well, I have,’ I said, brushing it off. ‘Oh wait, now that I think about it, I actually do remember one thing: the scream that came out of your mouth when I snapped your finger.’
‘I thought you said it was an accident?’
‘Maybe, maybe not,’ I said casually, and turned away.
‘Well, maybe I let you do it.’ That made me stop. This exact thought had rattled around in my head for so many years. I’d thought back to that moment again and again, and had wondered about it every time.
‘Did you?’ I swung around and looked at him. His eyes connected with mine with the same intensity as they had that day. But then he shook his head.
‘No, that was all you, Lizzy. All you.’
Eight years ago
I was standing at the edge of the wrestling mat.
Arms folded. Chin up. Deep breaths . . .
steady my racing heart. I was nervous, but desperately trying to hide it; the jury was still out on whether I was succeeding.
But I had no choice. I was currently surrounded by a cocktail of testosterone and scepticism.
I was the only woman in the class. I’d expected to be in a minority, but I’d never imagined it would be this minor.
And as the only woman, there was a bright flashing light hanging over my head, all eyes on me.