The Bridegroom's Dilemma. Lindsay Armstrong

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      Skye had gone fishing, snorkelling and crayfish-catching with them. She was on friendly terms with Tilly, their resident wallaby, she’d sampled her hostess’s marvellous cooking and spent the rest of her time relaxing in the sun or the sea.

      Her fair skin was now golden, her hair was even fairer and she knew she looked healthy. It had taken the news that another guest was arriving to make her realize that her cocoon was about to split open, and to wonder about her inner health. She would more than likely be recognized and, even if she wasn’t, she wanted no human contact at the moment other than the discreet, undemanding friendship she had with her hosts.

      Then it had occurred to her that if she could weave Haggerstone Island and its cuisine into her book, particularly the way her hostess used a cooking pit and different grids for different effects, she not only had a legitimate reason for being too busy to socialize, she also had something wonderful to write about from a culinary point of view.

      She later realized that it was impossible to be a recluse on an island with only three other people, but, most of all, quite impossible to quash Bryce Denver.

      He was twenty-six, a marine biologist. He was tall but looked as if he might not have lost all his puppy fat; indeed, he was exceedingly clumsy, like an overgrown puppy—out of the water, that was. He swam like a fish. He had red hair, freckles and a shy kind of charm.

      Half an hour after he’d landed on the adjacent island and been transported over the reef to Haggerstone by boat, he told Skye over lunch that he’d fallen in love with her when he’d first seen her on television and he’d breathed a sigh of absolute relief when he’d read about her breaking off her engagement to Nick Hunter…

      Something about her frozen expression must have got through to him, because he slapped his forehead suddenly, knocking over his water glass in the process, and he asked her with unmistakable sorrow if she could ever forgive him for being such a callous idiot.

      She assured him stiffly that she could, but made a resolve to get herself away from Haggerstone as fast as possible.

      She retreated to her room after lunch. The guest accommodation was in separate cabins and hers had a superb view over the water and the reef and was cool inside with wooden shutters at the windows. She sat down and started to write furiously.

      But at sunset the lure of the beach got to her and she wandered outside to watch an evening ritual she loved. The resident guinea fowl settling for the night in a magnificent coral tree in front of the roundhouse, the one peacock walking amongst the old dugout canoes planted with vivid impatiens, the quality of light over the water and beach, the beautiful serenity of Haggerstone.

      She wasn’t surprised when Bryce Denver came up to join her as she sat on the beach but she was surprised to find him now a gentle, amusing companion.

      Perhaps it was the magic of the island that did it, she thought later. That gave him the belated tact to steer well away from anything personal, and gave her wounded psyche the balm to simply relax and go with the flow.

      At any rate, she went to bed that night no longer determined to leave. Bryce was not going to be a problem, she decided. She would stay at least until she’d perfected her piece on Haggerstone.

      Bryce was not a problem over the next days. As a marine biologist the waters, fish and coral around the island were the nearest thing to heaven for him. As a companion, he was rather like a younger brother despite being two years older.

      He was sweet, she caught herself thinking once, and had to grimace because she knew enough about men to know he would not relish that tag. Nor might he have relinquished any dreams he’d woven around Skye Belmont, TV personality, but he was nice and they would be parting in a few days anyway. He to Cairns where he lived, she to Sydney.

      It was the thought of Sydney that suddenly lay on her mind like a bar. The last thing she wanted to do was go home, she mused.

      And that was why, in the end, when Bryce made an amazing suggestion, she agreed.

      ‘Only one more sleep,’ Bryce said regretfully over dinner, ‘after tonight, that is. I believe we’re flying out together?’

      Skye stirred and looked rueful. ‘I could stay here for ever.’

      ‘So could I,’ he agreed, ‘but I’ve had a thought.’

      Skye immediately looked wary instead of rueful.

      ‘I’m not going straight home,’ he said hastily. ‘A good friend of mine has a cattle station west of Cairns and next weekend is their annual picnic race meeting. It’s quite something,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘People come from hundreds of miles around for it and they sleep in tents, whatever—you would enjoy it, Skye.’

      ‘Not sleeping in a tent, I wouldn’t, Bryce.’ She grasped the first reason she could for nipping this suggestion in the bud although she quite liked camping.

      ‘Oh, no! I didn’t mean that. My friend makes up a house party at the homestead; it’s huge—the house, I mean! And he’s always delighted if I bring someone with me.’

      Skye sighed inwardly and reminded herself she’d known that this could be on the cards. ‘Bryce, look, you’ve been lovely company but there couldn’t ever be any more to it than that, for me.’

      ‘Because of Nick Hunter?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said honestly.

      ‘He must be mad!’

      Skye smiled wearily. ‘It was as much my fault as his but it…’ She gestured. ‘So I think I’m better off going home and I think you…are so nice, when the right girl comes along, she’ll thank her lucky stars she found you.’

      He grimaced.

      ‘I mean it,’ Skye said sincerely.

      ‘I still think you should come with me. I promise not to make a nuisance of myself but it could make an interesting chapter for your book. They spit-roast pigs and sides of beef, they make traditional damper and billy tea, they cook witchety grubs…’

      Unwittingly, Skye couldn’t help looking interested.

      ‘And there’s an awful lot of colour and activity,’ Bryce continued. ‘Real outback stuff—calf-roping, wood-chopping contests, a boxing tent—and I’m no mean hand with a camera. I’ve got some lovely shots of Haggerstone for you.’

      Pictures were the one thing Skye had worried about. She’d come unprepared to make a photographic diary of her sojourn. Truth to tell, although she’d brought her laptop, she hadn’t seen herself as being in the frame of mind to write anything constructive.

      And she knew Bryce did have an impressive array of cameras, underwater and others.

      She said uncertainly, ‘I’ll…I’ll think about it. But…’

      ‘I always keep my promises,’ Bryce said earnestly. ‘Although, one day, if you ever get over him, well, who knows?’

      Two days later, although she was still unsure of the wisdom of it, she flew to Cairns then on to Mount Gregory Station with Bryce Denver. He’d arranged a СКАЧАТЬ