It Started With A Kiss: The Secret Love-Child / Facing Up to Fatherhood / Not a Marrying Man. Miranda Lee

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      ‘No, but I’ve heard about it.’ It was the newest and most exclusive of the tropical island resorts off the far North Queensland coast, specialising in romantic holidays for couples and honeymooners. He wondered if they would have one of the special bures overlooking their own private beach. That would be really something. To be totally alone with her with nothing to do but eat, sleep, swim and make love. His kind of holiday!

      ‘When, exactly, do we fly out?’ he asked eagerly.

      ‘Today fortnight, at ten in the morning. I’ll pick you up here at eight. Be ready.’ She stood up abruptly.

      ‘Hey.’ He jumped up also. ‘You’re not leaving, are you?’

      ‘I have no reason to stay any longer,’ she returned, her manner firm. ‘You said yes. We have nothing more to discuss.’

      ‘What about contraception?’

      She stared hard at him. ‘I presume I can rely on you to see to that.’

      ‘You’re not on the pill?’

      ‘No, and even if I was I would still want you to use condoms.’

      He supposed that was only sensible, but he still felt mildly insulted. Which was crazy, really.

      ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘But there’s still no reason to rush off, is there? I mean…fair enough if you don’t want to see me afterwards, but it might be nice to spend some time together before we go off on holiday together. Get to know each other a little better.’

      ‘I’m sorry but I don’t want to do that.’

      ‘Why not, for pity’s sake?’

      ‘Look, Rafe, may I be blunt?’

      Did she know any other way? ‘Please do,’ he bit out.

      ‘We both know what the term ‘getting to know you’ means in this day and age. No, please don’t deny it. I’m being brutally honest with you and I would appreciate the same in return. Aside from the fact my period is due this week and I’m suffering considerably from PMT right now, I simply don’t want us to go to bed together beforehand.’

      ‘Why not?’

      She gave him another of those small enigmatic smiles. ‘Maybe I don’t want to risk you finding me a disappointment in bed and running a mile.’

      Never in a million years, he thought. She only had to lie there and he’d be enchanted. Anything more was a bonus. But, since she openly confessed to liking sex, then he figured she was going to do more. How much more was the intriguing part.

      ‘Don’t you want to try before you buy?’ he said with a saucy smile, and she laughed.

      ‘I’ve seen all I need to see. You really shouldn’t come to your front door half asleep and half dressed, Rafe darling. Now, show me where you put my phone, please. It’s high time I went home.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

      RAFE paced the front room, waiting for Isabel to arrive. She’d said she’d pick him up right on eight. But it was eight-ten and she hadn’t shown up yet.

      Maybe she wasn’t going to. Maybe this had all been some kind of sick joke, revenge against the male sex.

      This ghastly thought had just occurred to Rafe when he heard a car pulling up outside. Peeping out through the front window, he was relieved to see that it was her. Snatching up his luggage, he was out of the door before she could blow the horn. By the time he’d reached her car she’d alighted and was waiting beside the hatchback for him, looking gorgeous in pink pedal-pushers, a pink and white flowered top, and sexy white slip-on sandals. Her lipstick was bright pink, her hair was bouncing around her shoulders and her perfume smelt of freshly cut flowers.

      ‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ she apologised as she looked him up and down. Without contempt this time. ‘I had this sudden worry that you might have forgotten some essential items so I stopped off at a twenty-four hour chemist on the way.’

      He grinned at her. ‘Not necessary. They were the first thing I packed. But no worry. We won’t run out now, will we? Which might have been a possibility if you’re going to look as delicious as you look this morning all the time. Love the pink. Love the hair. But I especially love that perfume.’

      Isabel tried not to let her head be turned by his compliments. Men like Rafe were always good with the charm.

      At the same time, she’d come here today determined to enjoy what he had to offer. Cancelling everything for the wedding had been infinitely depressing, as had Luke’s call telling her that he and Celia were now officially engaged. Isabel was in quite desperate need to be admired and desired, both of which she could see reflected in Rafe’s gorgeous brown eyes.

      ‘It’s new,’ she told him brightly. ‘So are the clothes. I splashed out.’

      That had been the only positive thing to happen during the last fortnight—Luke coming good with his promise to set her up financially. To give him credit, he hadn’t let the grass grow under his feet in that regard. Guilt, no doubt.

      Still, she was now the proud owner of a brilliant portfolio of blue-chip stock and shares, the deed to the Turramurra town house and a bonus wad of cash, some of which she’d recklessly spent on a wild new resort wardrobe. She’d given the more conservative clothes she’d bought to take on her honeymoon with Luke to Rachel, who was grateful, but wasn’t sure where she’d ever get to wear them.

      ‘You should splash out more often,’ Rafe told her. ‘I like the less formal you.’

      ‘And I’ve always liked the less formal you,’ she quipped back.

      He was wearing fawn cargo slacks and a multi-coloured Hawaiian shirt, his bare feet housed in brown sandals. He must have shaved some time since she last saw him, but not that morning. Still, he looked and smelt shower-fresh, his silver phantom earring sparkling in the sunshine.

      He smiled and rubbed a hand over his stubbly chin. ‘You could have fooled me. So you like it rough, do you?’

      ‘No lady would ever answer such a question,’ she chided in mock reproof.

      ‘And no gentleman would ask it,’ he said, smiling cheekily. ‘Happily for you, I’m no gentleman.’

      ‘I’m sure you have your gentle side. Now, stop with the chit-chat and put your bag in here. If we don’t get going we’ll miss the plane.’

      ‘Nah. At this hour on a Sunday morning we’ll be at the airport in no time flat. The plane doesn’t go till ten, does it?’ he asked as he swung his one suitcase in beside her two.

      ‘No,’ she said, and slammed the hatchback down.

      ‘Then we have time for this.’

      When he pulled her abruptly into his arms, Isabel stiffened for a second. But only for a second. What was the point in making some silly show of resisting? СКАЧАТЬ