‘What was I meant to do? Let the bastard insult her?’ Phil demanded of the empty beach. The waves ran up over his toes and washed around his ankles before falling back and sucking some of the white sand with them, leaving him standing in a hole.
‘Sometimes you can’t win.’
Phil swung around from watching Laura sail away. He’d forgotten Solo was there — and that showed how upset he was, because the billionaire didn’t seem the sort of guy who faded into the background.
‘Boy, you need a drink. Or if you don’t, I do.’
‘No. I should talk to her.’
‘Take the advice of an older man. Give her — and yourself — time to cool off.’
‘It’s ridiculous. There’s no way I’d stand there and let anyone talk rubbish about her. She should know that.’
Solo thumped his shoulder, sympathetic but unyielding. ‘Whisky.’
Phil focused on him, read his determination and sighed. Why not? The day was crazy. He’d have a drink with a stranger, but not at the resort bar. That would be to risk seeing Hobbes, and the temptation to punch the guy might prove too much. ‘I’ve got whisky at the lodge.’
***
They settled on the front veranda. Phil left the bottle on the table between them. The day was edging to evening, the shadows lengthening and the sun shifting from crystal clarity to a golden extravaganza at the horizon.
‘I’ve been married forty nine years,’ Solo said.
Phil really wasn’t interested in a stranger’s stories. Laura was being unreasonable and he was thinking how to explain it to her. ‘A man has to stand up for his woman.’
‘Yep. But there’s ways and ways.’
Which made no sense. Phil frowned at the old guy swigging his whisky.
‘I’ve got two daughters and three granddaughters. Let me tell you, protecting them without setting their backs up isn’t easy.’
‘But you do?’
‘Course I do.’ Solo slumped in his chair, watching a pair of pelicans drift serenely around the edge of the bay and into its sheltered waters. ‘It was June, my wife, who taught me though. Sometimes protecting your woman means being there for her, but letting her go her way. Women are strong.’
Phil’s mum hadn’t been. He contemplated the whisky in his glass, swirled it. But Laura wasn’t his mum. She could and did stand up for herself. ‘Laura’s dad would have punched Hobbes.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Well, maybe not punched. But he’d have been mad.’
‘Reckon he’d have trusted her to deal with Hobbes, though.’
‘Why do you think that?’ Phil was honestly curious.
‘Competent kind of girl, and not easily upset. I have executives like that. Cool under fire and then…watch out!’
Phil frowned some more at his whisky before gulping it. ‘You think I should apologise to her.’ The glass clicked as it hit the table.
‘Then what?’
‘I’m just sitting here drinking another man’s whisky. What you do, that’s up to you.’
‘Huh.’
‘Tell me about your girl’s conservation project.’
***
The whack-whack-whack sound of the helicopter arriving interrupted dinner preparations. Laura clattered the dishes she was washing in the sink. Usually she’d have helped with preparations, but Agatha had taken one look at her expression and declared, ‘No knives’.
She was so mad. Not only because she’d lost the chance to have her project reinstated, but also because Phil had demonstrated that he didn’t trust her to handle her own life. She’d been dealing with sexist bullies for years. Hobbes had been mouthing off because he was uncomfortable with having his photo taken. She’d learned to understand people’s motivations and ride the waves of tension, keeping her eye all the time on her own goal. But Phil had blasted it.
‘Damn.’ She broke a mixing bowl.
‘Go for a walk. We’ll handle service tonight.’ Agatha taste-tested a pot of prawn laksa. ‘More chilli.’ She’d heard about the debacle with Hobbes, but her sympathy had seemed cursory.
The again, Laura reminded herself, for Agatha the conservation project was simply one among several efforts to save the Great Barrier Reef. It was only for Laura that the project meant so much: self-respect and a place in life following her passion and using her skills.
Draining the water from the sink and carefully fishing out the shards of the bowl, Laura dumped them in the trash, dried her hands and went to the staff quarters. All her gear was with Phil at the lodge, but she was in no mood to tangle with him.
Standing on the veranda of the staff cottage, she watched the helicopter’s departure. The rhythmic beat of its blades reached her ears as ‘fail-fail-failure’.
Her despair wasn’t for losing the project. For all her wild hopes today, she hadn’t had the project yesterday, and she’d been resigned to that. She had fallen asleep prepared to talk with Phil about their future. But now…He didn’t trust her to handle ministerial bullying. He didn’t trust her to know her own work.
Losing your job shredded your self-confidence. She needed his respect.
Forlorn, she walked down to the beach and sat, knees tucked under her chin to watch the fiery sunset fade to a brief purple twilight. Stars peeked out. The wind rustled the palm fronds and carried the sounds of the rainforest, the frogs’ croaks and insects’ chirrups, and the warm green scent of it.
This was why they couldn’t be together. He had to respect her enough to let her stand or fall alone. All she needed was for him to be there when she did.
A soft scrunch of sand meant footsteps.
‘It’s me.’ Phil.
He sat beside her, arms on his knees, face shadowed. ‘Four years ago I was angry.’
She interrupted him. ‘I know there’s no comparison between what I did, and what you did today. At least you meant well.’
‘Condemned with faint praise. I did mean well. My inner caveman was out and roaring, brandishing his club. I didn’t even know I had one. Caveman, that is.’
She almost smiled.
Despite his piratical looks, Phil was a civilised guy, a gentleman in the old, true meaning of the word. He cared about people.
He glanced at her, and away. ‘There was something you didn’t understand four years ago. It was what made me really angry.’ He hesitated. ‘Hurt.’
A bat swooped low, a graceful fleeting shadow.
Hurt. Yes, that was how she felt now. They could inflict on each other the deepest wounds because what they did, how they thought, mattered.
He spoke quietly. ‘You accused me of wanting financial success at all costs. You didn’t get that part of the reason I wanted it so badly was for you. I wanted it for you.’
‘What?’ She swivelled to face him.
‘I respect your dad. I wanted him to know that I could look after you.’
‘Phil.’ Frustration in her tone, in the tension of her body. He didn’t get it — which was doubly frustrating, as she’d fought so hard to grow up. ‘I look after myself.’
‘I know that. Now. But then, it hurt that you didn’t understand that I…’
‘Wanted to give me the world?’ she finished wryly, relief sweeping through her that he did get it. He did respect who she was now.
‘Yeah.’ His breath of laughter held no humour. ‘You were my eco-warrior princess.’
She did smile then.
He didn’t. ‘Laura, my inner caveman is part of me. I want to protect those I love. But I can learn. I respect you. Mum wasn’t strong. She needed someone to lean on — and I wasn’t enough.’
Shocked, she gripped his arm. He was always so self-sufficient that she’d forgotten his background, how alone he was and how the early loss of his mum would have scarred him. But how could she have failed to see this heart wound in him?
‘Phil, your mum loved you. No, I know I never met her, but I know you.’ She shook his arm for emphasis. ‘The strength and compassion in you comes from growing up loved. You were enough for your mum. She was proud of you, would be proud of you now. Sometimes fate is just unkind. Your mum was sick. No one could save her.’
She released his arm to caress his face, hurting in her soul for the pain he carried.
His eyes searched hers in the starlit darkness. ‘Do you forgive me for butting in with Hobbes?’
Given his background, Phil’s instincts to protect would be powerful. They were part of him and it was unfair for her to condemn him for being the man she loved, scars and all. But she had to be clear about her needs, too. ‘Yes, but in future, will you let me fight my own battles?’
‘If you’ll remember that I’m always there to fight beside you.’
She saw the truth and hope in his face. The promise. ‘I’ll remember.’
Their kiss held the aching sweetness of the hard ground they’d travelled. He stood and drew her up with him, keeping her close. ‘Come home.’
***
The lodge was dark. No welcoming lights shone in the windows. Phil led Laura around it and down to the beach of the private bay. He’d almost lost her — and lost himself to the demons of his childhood. If he wanted a future, he had to trust her strength and believe in the bond between them.
His fingers shook as he unbuttoned her white uniform shirt.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Getting you naked.’
‘That seems to be one of your favourite hobbies.’ Her teasing, shaky though it was, re-established the naturalness between them.
The tension constricting his chest vanished and he tickled her. ‘You promised me a skinny dip.’
She shrieked as he found a ticklish spot.
***
Laura laughed at the exhilaration of swimming naked, wearing only water and moonlight. They played, sliding against each other and away, kissing until they were drowning in stardust. The buoyancy of the ocean gave them new possibilities. She floated on her back and Phil moved between her legs so that she slipped against him, rocked by the waves, as he teased her breasts. She tightened her legs, sliding down to straighten to vertical, and kiss him with the need pulsing in her. He held her there, her shoulders above his, curving over him.
‘I want you,’ he said. ‘But I left the frigging condoms inside.’
‘My romantic prince,’ she teased.
‘I’m not.’ He was suddenly still, serious. ‘I’m not a hero. I’m simply the man who loves you.’
The moonlight revealed his expression, raw and open. Vulnerable. Beautiful.
‘That’ll do me,’ she said. ‘I love you, Phil.’
‘Show me.’ He lowered her to rest against him. ‘Love me.’
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
***
Morning brought practical considerations. Phil had declared he could live anywhere, wherever she chose to work. All he needed was a good Internet connection and the ability to fly to Los Angeles a few times a year.
If he could make concessions, so could Laura. Her body still hummed with the night’s love-making. It had been more than passion. There’d been joy and wonder and a fierce commitment. Whatever the future held, they’d face it together.
She sighed, though. For all her commitment to conservation, it was time to give up on the project she’d poured her heart and soul into. She’d continue to support every effort to save the Great Barrier Reef, but if she had to work somewhere else — like Sydney — then she would.
Phil’s shaver clicked off and he walked out of the bathroom, his happiness obvious in his smile. A smile just for her. He took her hand and pulled her into him, bending to check the smoothness of his shave by playfully rubbing his cheek against hers. ‘Satisfactory?’
‘Very.’ Her voice came out husky, and the playful tease became a hot, purposeful kiss till she called a halt. ‘Work. I was useless last night, so I have to help with breakfast.’
‘You could bribe me to help.’ The mock leer wasn’t very effective, interrupted as it was by a yawn.
She laughed. ‘Coffee is all you’re getting. Jam on your toast if you’re good.’
He whispered suggestions for other places jam tasted sweet as they walked hand-in-hand through paradise to the main resort to help with breakfast preparations. Around them, the rainforest was waking to the relative cool of a tropical dawn. Birds squawked and called, and bright flowers opened to greet the day.
Only Laura felt hot, and she blamed Phil and his wickedness, even as she revelled in it. She hushed him as the path ended and they saw Agatha on the veranda, drinking coffee. She stared pointedly at Laura and Phil’s clasped hands, then grinned. For a wonder, she refrained from comment.
Sitting with her, and looking remarkably comfortable, was Solomon Field.
His continued presence surprised Laura and she puzzled over it as they exchanged good mornings.
If he’d arrived on Topaz Island in pursuit of the minister, it wasn’t a hot pursuit. He appeared content to sit and drink coffee and eat pastries from a basket placed in the centre of the table.
Laura felt a twinge of embarrassment that he’d witnessed yesterday’s debacle. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go help Sonya in the kitchen.’
‘Sit,’ Agatha told her. ‘The kitchen’s under control.’
Laura sat, accepting the chair Phil pulled out. ‘Sorry about yesterday.’
‘Never mind yesterday.’ Agatha poured two more cups of coffee.
The spare cups suggested they were expected. Laura raised an eyebrow at her employer.
It was Solomon who answered her. ‘I’m going to fund your project.’
Laura nearly fell off her chair.
‘You are?’ Phil asked, coffee cup frozen in mid-air.
‘Yep. Agatha suggested it. Thought I’d check out Laura for myself. You got good recommendations from the people who worked with you, girl, but I like to judge a person for myself if they’re to work on a project I believe in.’
‘Uh, thanks.’ Laura gulped some coffee, unsure if she were dreaming. The milk-less coffee scalded her mouth. She was definitely awake.
Phil passed her the milk jug. Agatha’s coffee needed dilution.
‘You wouldn’t be independent,’ Solomon said. ‘You’d be working for my company in Brisbane.’
‘A mining company.’ She replaced the milk jug on the table, looking from Solomon to Agatha. Then she looked at Phil.
He was clearly doing his best to look noncommittal, but there was no mistaking his enthusiasm. It was her decision, but he was all for it.
‘Mining companies aren’t the devil,’ Solomon said. ‘I’m not a stupid man. I can give my grandchildren all the money in the world, but if I leave them a rotten world to spend it in, I’ve failed. I want them to have what I had. Beauty and freedom.’
Laura relaxed and smiled. That sort of attitude she could work with. ‘Thank you. I accept.’
Phil grinned at her, leant over and kissed her cheek.
‘I thought you would.’ Agatha took a smug sip of coffee.
Laura’s jaw dropped. ‘You set me up.’
Agatha laughed. ‘You bet. Solo wanted to see the real you, so I focussed your nervousness on Hobbes. Stupid old fart. Solo liked how you handled him.’
‘He left,’ she said starkly, hating her bleak sense of failure.
‘Uh-huh.’ Solo didn’t seem bothered. ‘You can’t guarantee an outcome, but you can control how you behave. Besides, Hobbes is a fool. You’ll be better off working for me.’
She laughed and bounced up to hug Agatha and, with a shrug for employer-employee protocol, Solo.
She caught him winking at Phil, but before she could ask a question, Phil pulled her down and onto his lap.
‘Happy?’
She twisted around to kiss him properly. Coffee spilled across the table. She ignored it, concentrating on the man looking at her with such love and pride. ‘Everything is perfect.’