The Castaway Bride (23 page)

With his lean, tanned face and green eyes, he was still heart-racingly handsome but in a subtly different way. Almost the difference between the natural waterfall back on the island, and the artfully contrived indoor waterfall that splashed discreetly nearby.

Cristy watched him, tall and imposing, as he talked to his employees. She knew every inch of this man’s body intimately—had touched him, tasted him, loved him. But she was looking at a stranger. And, with a shiver, she realized she didn’t know what to say to him.

Suddenly she felt paralyzed by shyness. Maybe she’d been wrong to seek him out. After all, they’d been back on Starlight for several hours but he’d made no effort to contact her—a fact that was undeniably hurtful after all they’d been through together.

Standing there in the lobby, empty now save for a few passing guests and Matt speaking to his last remaining staff member, Cristy felt isolated, alienated. She’d sensed she could be someone special to Matt Slade but did she have a part to play in Matthew J. Slade’s life?

She couldn’t bear this. It was too hard. She’d find a restaurant for lunch, seek out Miriam and Howard—anything rather than face this urbane stranger.

But then, his last staff member gone, Matt turned to face her. Cristy twisted her hands together behind her back to hide her nervousness. She stepped toward him. Tentatively, she smiled.

But Matt didn’t smile back. His eyes were shuttered and his mouth set in a rigid line that sent a shock of hurt and panic reverberating through her. What on earth had gone wrong between them?

M
att sensed Cristy was there, her familiar scent of roses had alerted him to her presence. But as he turned to face her, he froze. He had to blink, refocus, readjust his mental image of her.

Her scent was the same but this was not his castaway Cristy with her hair tumbling over her bare shoulders, her ragged dress, her ill-fitting flip-flops. Laughing, uninhibited, generous Cristy.

A wave of desolation swept over him. This was Miss Perfect resurrected, cool and elegant in a short red dress that shrieked designer, sky-high heels, her hair pulled back sleekly from her face, her luscious mouth slicked glossy red, her expression composed and watchful.

A woman who was not, after all, Miss-Perfect-For-Him. Who had walked straight off that rescue helicopter and into the arms of her fiancé without a backward glance.

At first he’d given her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she’d needed to talk about the cancelled wedding. Sort out any problems it had caused. But as soon as he’d been free of the press, and before he’d started work on the clean up, he’d checked to see if she was okay. To find her still with Templetton. So deep in conversation with him, she hadn’t even noticed him standing at the doorway.

Hurt at the loss of his mermaid lover tore through him, made his gut jackknife with pain. “So,” he drawled, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “Back to civilization.”

At his impersonal tone, hurt dimmed her eyes. “Civilization is good,” she replied, her tone forcedly casual. “Especially the hot shower.”

He could see she found it difficult to meet his gaze and he felt a stab of concern for her. But then he remembered how gutted he’d felt as he drove around his storm-damaged island, unable to think about anything but her and how foolish he’d been to let down his guard and love her.

He let the long, awkward moment of silence extend without breaking it.

“I scarcely recognized you,” she said finally. “You got a hair cut. You shaved.” She held her hands firmly behind her back, as if bracing herself against this difficult conversation.

He shrugged. “With my boat gone, there was no excuse not to get back to work.”

“Was there much damage to the island from the storm?”

“It wasn’t as bad as it looked,” he said. “Trees down, a roof off a building at the other end of the island. No one was hurt. That’s the important thing.”

They were two strangers making superficial, polite conversation. The last time they’d spoken had been in lover’s whispers and murmurs of pleasure. The pain of the loss seared through him.

There was no point in prolonging the agony. He had no wish to continue an acquaintance with Mrs. Howard Templetton. It would be torture to see her and know he could not have her. He looked pointedly at his watch. “Cristy, I—”

“Lunch.” She forestalled his brush-off. “Do you want to have lunch with me?”

“I’m meeting someone for lunch,” he replied.

Again he felt bad at the hurt that crumpled her face. It hurt him to hurt her. But he could not endure the agony of seeing her with another man. He would rather have her out of his life altogether.

“Oh,” she said. With a nervous gesture, she smoothed a wisp of hair back from her forehead. And he noticed her hand.

“Where’s your ring?” He ground out the words.

“I gave it back to Howard.”

Matt’s throat seemed constricted, his tongue thick in his mouth. “You gave it back to Howard?”

Cristy frowned. “Of course I did. You know I never had any intention of keeping it. The ring was his family heirloom. I didn’t dare take it off on the island in case I lost it.”

“You didn’t intend to keep it?” His words sounded dull and stupid to his own ears.

“Of course I didn’t.” Her eyes flashed. “Hey, what is this? I told you I wasn’t going to marry Howard.”

“So why are you back together with him?”

Her frown deepened. “Where has this come from? I’m not back with Howard. In fact he and Miriam—”

“As soon as you got off the helicopter you were in his arms.”

“He was there, a friend, to help me with that pack of media hyenas while you went off in the opposite direction.”

Had he got it all wrong? “I went because I thought you—”

“Were back with him? How could you think I’d want to be with him after all we’ve been to each other?”

Matt remembered the jealousy that had burned through him at the sight of her in Howard’s arms. “You were doing a damn good imitation of long-lost lovers when I last saw you.”

He was the one who had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but here he was accusing her. No wonder her face tightened with anger.

“So he hugged me. Big deal. He was glad to see me alive and safe.”

“That was all?”

“How could you have thought anything else?”

“I guess… I guess I don’t know you all that well.”

Man, did that sound lame. What he wanted to say was that he knew her enough to need her in his life forever. But the way she was glaring at him he guessed she might not want to hear that right now.

“And I certainly didn’t know you,” she said. “Why did you lie to me about who you were?”

“Lie? I didn’t lie to you, I just—”

“Just totally evaded telling me that you seem to own half of Australia. Let me think you were a simple, small-time builder.”

“I didn’t exactly say that.”

“Sure. All that stuff about the mines and your bricklaying days.” Her tone was scathing.

“True, all true,” he said. Sudden fear overtook him that she might not forgive him for his evasion—though he’d done it for the best of reasons. “My bricklaying was the start of it all. Then I got lucky at the right time with small property deals and wild card stocks and it grew from there.” He remembered the reason he’d gotten his eagle tattoo. Inspiration to soar as high as he could.

“All the way to Taipan Slade International.”

He nodded.

Her mouth twisted. “You really had me down as a gold-digger, didn’t you?”

“No. But I’d been burned too many times before by women like Julia who were interested in me for my money. You seemed to like me well enough as a construction worker so I didn’t see the need to—”

“To tell me the truth.”

“I wanted to be sure you liked me for myself.”

“So, it was some kind of test?”

He ran his hands through his hair. This was going so wrong. If his Cristy from the island with her ragged dress and wild disheveled hair was there he would just take her in his arms and kiss her and make it like it was before.

But the castaway bride had disappeared and he was standing opposite Miss Perfect. A woman so elegant, so finessed, that every man who walked by swiveled his head for a second look.

A woman who seemed like someone he didn’t know.

Matt’s reticence to talk about his feelings returned in full force. He couldn’t put into words what he wanted to say.

“There was no test. It was good to know you liked me for me and not for what I was worth. I—”

Danny chose just that moment to join them, sidling up behind Cristy. His brother’s eyes gleamed with interest as his gaze ran appreciatively over her.

Damn! Matt signaled Danny with his eyes. Couldn’t his brother sense he wanted him to get lost?

But Danny wasn’t going anywhere.

S
traight away Cristy knew the stranger must be Matt’s brother, Danny. He was younger, shorter and not nearly as handsome but there was a resemblance in the face. Slightly overweight, he was obviously a guy who liked the good life—a guy who would think it a joke to stock a yacht’s emergency bag with nothing but chocolates and condoms.

He smiled—a charming, dazzling smile. “So you must be Cristy. I’m Danny,” he said, holding out a hand to her.

She took it and was surprised that his grip was firm; she’d expected it to be weak and clammy.

“I guessed,” she said as she dropped his hand, determined not to be too nice to him. This was the brother who had embezzled from Matt and cheated on him with Matt’s girlfriend. Matt might have forgiven him but she never would.

She looked at him critically—Danny seemed pleasant enough but he would never get to first base with her. How could a woman be interested in him after his wonderful older brother?

“From that icy tone of voice I guess you know how out of order I’ve been,” said Danny.

“Not at all,” she said, tight-lipped. “That’s between you and Matt.”

How could she warm to him after all she’d heard about his relationship with Matt? No matter what, she would always be on Matt’s side.

“Danny and I have sorted all that out now,” Matt said to her. “He’s made amends. I’ve dropped the charges. I can never stay mad at him for long.”

He was so darn forgiving when it came to brother and policeman fishing buddy. But when it came to her, he wouldn’t forgive an innocent hug of friendship and gratitude between her and Howard.

“As I said, that’s between the two of you,” she said stiffly.

“Are you joining us for lunch?” asked Danny.

“No,” she said

“Yes,” said Matt.

“I have to go—” she said.

“I want you to stay,” he said.

She looked helplessly at Matt, wanting to be with him and yet uncertain as to whether she was really welcome. She was uncomfortably aware of Danny looking speculatively from her to Matt and back again.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll join you for lunch.”

She wished it could be just her and him—alone and maybe able to recapture some of the feeling they had shared on the island. Or had she imagined that magic between them?

“Good,” said Danny. “I’ll bring you both up to date on how I’ve dealt with the press. I’ve packed them all off, big brother, with a promise of exclusives from you to
People
magazine and to the
Today Show
.”

“You’ve what?” Matt exploded.

Danny threw up his hands defensively. “Did I say you have to go through with it? I’ve got them off your back haven’t I?”

His calculating gaze turned to Cristy. “And what deals did you make with the media? Someone as stunning as you could have cleaned up.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I told them ‘nothing doing’ all the way.”

She was surprised when he laughed. “Good for you,” he said. “But what about you two?”

Cristy flushed. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah,” said Matt. “What are you getting at?”

Danny shrugged his shoulders with great exaggeration. “I just thought you two had something going between you. The chemistry is kinda obvious.”

“No,” denied Cristy at the same time Matt did, but she was stunned at the pain his denial caused her.

So she hadn’t misread that coldness in his eyes. Or was he, like herself, just wanting to put Danny off the track? If so, he was doing a great job—no one hearing him would get a hint of the passion that had flared between them.

Despite her pain, throughout lunch she found herself reluctantly enjoying Danny’s company. Danny seemed full of remorse for his misdoings. Without a doubt he was a player—but he was charming, humorous and a good conversationalist. Which was as well, because Matt hardly spoke a word.

By the time they got to coffee she had virtually lapsed into silence herself. Matt had been less than encouraging and she still found herself constrained with him, the easy camaraderie that they had shared on the island exchanged for an awkward nervousness.

The sexual tension between them seemed to have dissipated, too. He was being careful not to look at her; she still got a shock every time she snuck a glance at him, expecting long hair and a sexy growth of beard.

Was this all there was to be for them? Miriam and Howard were taking the afternoon jet boat to Hibiscus Island and flying back to Sydney. Should she go with her friends?

Matt refused her offer to pay for her lunch. But he didn’t exactly get down on his knees and beg her to stay. She got up awkwardly and pushed back her chair.

“Thanks,” she said. “Nice lunch. Though it wasn’t quite the same without a tin plate and only one fork between us.”

Her attempt at humor fell flat.

Matt got up too. He cleared his throat. “I have to work with the emergency team all afternoon. Could we get together for a drink this evening?”

Too little, too late.
Trying to revive the spark between them was a humiliating no-no. She wouldn’t go there again.

She glanced at her watch. “I… uh… I’m thinking of flying to Sydney this afternoon.”

Matt’s face darkened. “With Howard?”

“And Miriam,” she said. “You didn’t give me a chance to tell you. They’re in love. Always have been. And I’m thrilled for them.”