Natalie Anderson - One Summer At The Beach

Her hand wobbled out to her glass. Despite the food she looked pale, unhappy and beautiful. His anger evaporated in the warmth of concern and the heat of desire. He wanted to get out of here, wanted to take her to his apartment so they could lie down—rest and relax. He wanted his holiday to come home. Wanted to see her there. Definitely wanted her in the bathroom.

But the strain in her eyes slowed his libido down. She’d argue it till she was blue in the face but the fact was she was vulnerable. She did have to take extra care. There were higher risks for her—a trip to the dentist could cause her problems.

Rhys shifted on his seat. He didn’t have room in his heart for her kind of vulnerable. He couldn’t afford to get too involved. He had to protect his bruised heart as much as she literally had to protect hers.

‘Have something more to eat.’ He took her wrist in his hand as he spoke. Surreptitiously keen to read her pulse, but initially thrown by the erratic beat of his own heart, he held on that little too long.

‘Why are you holding my wrist like this?’ She stared at his fingers. ‘Are you taking my pulse? You jerk. How dare you?’

He felt the beat quicken even before her words were all out her mouth. ‘You look like hell.’

‘Any wonder? And you’ve been doing the overprotective bit this whole time, haven’t you?’

‘What? Don’t you accuse me of mollycoddling you or treating you any different from how I’d treat anyone.’

‘That’s just the point though, isn’t it, Rhys? You’re a doctor. You treat people.’

He lowered his voice. ‘You know exactly how far I’ve pushed you—the extremes I’ve pushed you to.’ And himself. If he was honest, he was going beyond his comfort zone even now. But he couldn’t seem to stop. He wanted to make things right with her.

But she was off on a bender. ‘This is why you stopped me from doing the bridge walk. You’ve been protecting me?’

‘No.’

Sienna laughed harshly. ‘You really are incredible, you know that, Rhys? You thought I couldn’t do it, didn’t you? That I couldn’t even manage some stairs?’ ‘That is not why I didn’t want to do the bridge walk, Sienna.’ He breathed out heavily. Damn the woman and her incessant interrogation. He wanted to be honest but still felt the usual constraint about telling her anything. The last thing he wanted to do was relive the Mandy experience. And he didn’t want to put ideas into her head—about selling her story. But at the same time he wanted to straighten this mess out. Reluctance swamped him but the need to resolve things with her won over his reservations about inviting her into his world. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘Is everything complicated with you?’

‘No more than it is with you.’

‘I’m not that complicated, Rhys.’

‘That’s not true, Sienna. There are depths in you. Areas you don’t let anyone into.’

Sienna looked across the table at him. She might have a few dark corners, but his no-go areas were vast fields. ‘That’s true of anyone.’ She picked up an olive. ‘Anything you told me in the last few days—the sailing, the family motto. Was any of it true?’

‘Every word.’

She paused, the olive halfway to her mouth. She really wanted not to believe him. But the intensity in his answer was compelling. She could feel him willing her to see him as genuine.

‘Can’t we just forget about all this rubbish? You know me, Sienna. I know you. I want to keep challenging you.’

She sat back. He was all challenge. He was the challenge of her life. And she couldn’t walk away. ‘I don’t think I know you at all, Rhys.’

‘Look. Come back to my apartment with me now. Let me show you.’

She shifted on the seat. Not sure what he meant by ‘show’—not sure how she felt about letting him in again that way.

He read her mind. ‘I’ll run you back to the hostel any time you want—you just say the word.’

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