Summer Beach Reads. Natalie Anderson

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       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      HE’D finally got his fantasy moment there in his pristine white bed, unlacing Shirley hook by hook as though she were some medieval maiden, burying his hands in layers of fabric and stripping it back. Kissing the colour right off her mouth and revealing the pink, pure lips beneath.

      The whole gondola thing had been a travesty. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time but he’d come across as a sap and a soft touch, telling her about his work for the dolphin mob. Thank God she hadn’t pressed him regarding the growing list of others.

      How would he explain that he had besmirched his soul in seducing her and now he scrubbed it clean again helping a raft of new clients? They bought him perspective. And balance.

      A good balance.

      He still struggled with the lingering sense that there was something extra wrong about the time he spent with Shirley; that it had just been too fast for him to believe she wanted this as much as he did, so it was probably just as well that weeks passed between them seeing each other. And it was probably just as well that the list was nearing an end for her.

      A dark shadow took him.

      He stared at www.remembermrsmarr.com on his laptop, at his own listings and at hers she’d added back when he’d challenged her to. Shirley had had a seven-tick head start even before he’d started trying.

      He ticked off ‘Hunt for a dinosaur fossil’ on the live site. That only left the three unachievable ones. Everest, a grandchild and being touched again. It was odd imagining that his mentor—the woman who’d insisted that Plato’s intellectual love was the purest—had secretly wanted to be loved again. Touched again. And all the while she’d had a small, vulnerable girl right there just begging to give her as much love as she needed. And to receive it.

      But this dinosaur trip into the desert meant their achievable list was done. No more list, no more reason to be together. No more together, no more sex. No more sex, no more precious glimpses deep inside the mind and soul of the most intriguing woman he’d ever known. And if he was getting intrigued and habituated …

      Probably just as well it was over.

      ‘Hey.’ Shirley pushed into their tent, two coffees in hand, looking earthy and radiant.

      Nearly over.

      He had one weekend. One last opportunity to be greedy. He wasn’t going to wish that away until he absolutely had to. He hastily unchecked the box.

      She sank down, cross-legged, next to him and passed him a steaming mug. ‘Freshly brewed.’

      Coffee only came one way on this expedition—hot and strong. But it had been months since he’d craved something fancier. Barista-made had lost its charm. Plain and strong would do him just fine.

      ‘Thank you.’

      She was back to being Shirley again, regular make-up and a more moderate selection of clothes without a buckle or hook in sight if you didn’t count her laced-up trainers. He loved to spend time with this Shirley. Though he couldn’t say he didn’t love it when Shiloh made an impromptu appearance in their limited together time, too. The wilder the better.

      ‘What are you doing?’ She leaned over to glance at his screen.

      He tipped the screen towards her. ‘Visiting the list. You haven’t updated.’

      Her eyes briefly flicked to the corner of the tent. ‘No. I’m keeping track in my notebook.’

      He tipped his head. ‘Privately?’

      She studied the floor and then lifted green eyes to his. ‘I think it should always have been private. It should never have mattered what everyone else was doing.’ She took a breath. ‘I’m sorry I pressured you into it. That was unfair.’

      Her unrealistic expectations seemed like eons ago. And totally irrelevant now. He wanted to say without that we never would have met, or something equally corny. Wanted to, but he didn’t. He reminded himself that the past months had probably been all the better for being temporary.

      ‘Are you kidding?’ He kept it light. ‘If not for you, I would never have detached my retinas or frozen my butt off in the desert.’

      She smiled. ‘It’s lovely out here, though, despite the cold. So incredibly vast. Can you imagine how much life is buried in ancient sediment here?’

      The ancestors of eagles, enormous wombat third-cousins, a sea-floor full of marine fossils from back when the desert plain they’d pitched their tent into had still been ocean floor. The team had uncovered lots of ancient bones, but none of them dinosaur.

      Yet.

      The museum had willingly taken on two unskilled assistants for the long weekend and even been kind enough to find them tasks to do that felt meaningful. They weren’t. Everyone seemed to know that but they were entirely prepared to fake it out of consideration for their guests. This time, no one knew she was Shiloh and no one knew that he was loaded. As far as the museum team was concerned, they were just hopeless enthusiasts.

      We can always do with enthusiasm, the project director had kindly told Shirley when they’d applied. And she’d glowed. There was a lot to be said for kindness.

      And for Shirley glowing.

      ‘What time are they heading out?’ he asked.

      ‘As soon as everyone’s caffeine ratio is optimum. Mornings seem to be expedition time and afternoons are for analysing results.’ She rummaged around, tossing things onto her air mattress. Their air mattress, since it was a double and since they were back in ‘list time’. Short grabs of heaven every few weeks. Little contact in between.

      The perfect set-up.

      Shirley’s mattress pile grew. A spare shirt, camera, notebook, drink bottle, insect repellent, sunscreen. Everything a girl could need for a day in the desert.

      ‘Be right back.’ She bent and crawled out of the tent and he took the chance to watch. He’d grown really fond of that rear end really fast. He hooked the fly sheet with his boot and pulled it back to see where she went as he sipped his coffee. The latrine tent. Dug way out in the distance, necessarily.

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