Grace woke early but lay listening to the small sounds of Saul moving around the house. Only when she heard him leave did she get up and see about her own breakfast. Thank goodness he was a surfer and the lure of the waves never failed. She didn’t know how she’d face him this morning.
Last night she’d been shameless. It was as if every fantasy, even the really forbidden ones, had been possible and she’d gone after them like a wild woman. The simmering attraction between her and Saul had exploded and she’d been all over him.
He’d been all over her, too, but then he’d have had his reasons. For herself, she’d learned that moonlit beaches were treacherous and enthralling in equal measures. They encouraged fantasies of romance that were downright dangerous.
She poured a bowl of cereal, spooned yoghurt over the top and sliced a banana over that. It was tricky, but she juggled the cereal bowl and a mug of coffee as she opened the door to the courtyard. The sheltered nook had a stone table and benches that looked out over the bay. Seaside daisies framed the paving. It would have been perfect, except for the lingering smell of bushfire smoke in the air and her thoughts.
“Good morning, Grace.”
“Ryan. Good morning.”
Her stepsister’s fiancé paused awkwardly, then left the pathway that linked the houses to join her at the table. “I saw Saul had gone surfing.”
The implication being that he’d timed his visit to find her alone. Awkward. She pushed aside her empty cereal bowl.
“Would you like a coffee?”
He shook his head. “You and Saul …”
”It’s too early in the day to talk about relationships,” she said firmly.
“Too early — or too late?” His mouth twisted and he reached a hand across the table to cover hers. “Grace, we were friends. When I met Carrie, she was so different. Her frivolity appealed to me. She’s glamorous.”
“Carrie is also kind and loyal.” She tried to withdraw her hand, and was shocked when his hold tightened. The smoke seemed to thicken in the air, that or the tension. She stared at him.
“I made a mistake.”
Saul surfed at least twice a week. It was why he’d bought his city apartment on the coast. He wouldn’t call surfing meditation, but it served the same purpose. Riding the waves, you lived in the moment. He made his best business decisions while surfing.
After his restless night, he’d barely waited for dawn to pull on a wetsuit and jog down to the beach.
If the fireworks hadn’t intruded, Grace and he would have made love. It would have changed everything between them. Neither of them was into recreational sex … so where had that burst of passion come from? She’d been as hot as him, and he’d been burning up.
He’d never felt anything as intense as his need for her.
He fell off the surfboard. Automatically he collected it, then sat on it to think. The waves moved him slowly to shore.
A man could be logical, even about emotion. In December, he’d impulsively claimed Grace as his fiancée. He’d been being kind, no matter what she thought. Then on New Year’s Eve, he’d stayed alone and reached the momentous resolution that this was the year he’d find a life partner. A wife. Then last night he’d kissed Grace on the beach as if he were starving for her.
Even a stupid man could connect the dots.
“I’m in love.”
A seagull paddling nearby ignored him.
He struck out for shore.
In love. That was why he couldn’t let Grace ignore him, couldn’t let her chat with Ryan, Mr Nice Guy. That was why he’d meddled in her hospital scheduled and basically kidnapped her.
He walked up the beach with the surfboard under his arm and water streaming down his body. He halted at the top of the path, staring at the tableau in his courtyard.
Ryan sat across the table from Grace, and he was holding her hand, saying. “I made a mistake.”
Saul set down the surfboard and the slight sound caught their attention. Two shocked faces gaped at him. “Don’t make a bigger mistake now,” he advised Ryan harshly.
The younger man released Grace’s hand instantly. “I … um...” He glanced at her, but she was very busy collecting her cereal bowl and mug. Without her support, he trailed off miserably. “I have to go.”
“Yes, you do,” Saul said grimly. He opened the door for Grace.
She stepped past him, careful not to touch him, and rinsed her dishes in the sink.
He leaned against a kitchen bench.
“You’re dripping.”
“That’s why the floor is concrete. It’ll survive.” A pause. “He wants you back.”
“Ryan never had me.”
“You thought he was your dream man.”
She smiled slightly, sadly. “No. I was lonely. I wanted to believe I could be important to someone.”
“Grace —” He started toward her, but she evaded him, putting the bench between them.
“You know how dangerous loneliness is,” she said. “You must have seen it last night. The way I responded to you.” She blushed but met his eyes. “Pathetic to be that eager. It took me by surprise.”
He froze. “Are you saying you used me last night? I don’t believe it. We weren’t anonymous bodies on the beach. You were responding to me.”
“I know. You’re gorgeous and I had a crush on you as a kid.”
”What?”
“I hid it.” A one shoulder shrug. “A romantic moonlit beach, my teenage hero.”
“Don’t. Don’t mock what we had.”
“I’m sorry, Saul. I’m apologising because you’re a good friend. Arrogant maybe.” Her attempt at a laugh failed. She glanced down at the yellow and green singlet and shorts she wore. “You made me so mad when you threw your weight around at the hospital, then used emotional guilt to get me here. I went out and bought a new wardrobe just to show you and everyone that I wasn’t the pathetic one in our supposed broken engagement. I even thought I could make you want me as a woman. I guess I did.”
His stomach was one tight, cold knot. “Is that how you see me, so arrogant and manipulative that you can play with me as if I have no emotions?”
“No!”
“Saul.” The shout preceded running footsteps. Alex, one of the teenagers, skidded in. “Your phone’s not working. They want you at the SES centre. There’s a new bushfire. Uncle Stuart’s waiting for you.”
“Ten minutes,” Saul said. He had to get rid of the wetsuit that was cold and clammy on his skin. Or maybe that was shock.
Grace didn’t love him. Hell, it sounded as if she didn’t even like him.
“I’m coming, too,” she followed him down the hallway. “First aid. There’ll be lots of smoke injuries. Can I borrow a t shirt?”
He found one of his tighter ones, left here over Christmas, and threw it at her.
“Saul.”
“Get dressed,” he said and began unzipping the suit.