And he hadn’t even touched her, not with so much as one fingertip.
This need hit her hard. It had been a long time since she’d wanted a man. A long time since she’d last made love. To Jamie. A cooling breeze brushed over her skin. Or was it a dose of reality? Jamie. Her one true love. The man she’d thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with, having more children with. A shiver shimmied up her spine and she rubbed her hands down her arms, felt the goose-bumps under her palms. Lusting after Ben was a mistake; following up on it would be disastrous. She took a backward step, away from Ben, away from temptation.
Ben’s gaze darkened. Not used to being walked away from? They were in for some difficult times if they didn’t get this sorted and the attraction put in perspective before it erupted into something neither of them could control.
Rachel drew a shaky breath, steeled her shoulders, and said, ‘Come to think of it, I should probably go over to the clinic early.’
‘Right.’ His eyes bored into her. Was he sorry? Relieved? Who would know? He wasn’t exactly a bag of information, didn’t seem to see the need to let people in on his feelings.
‘Ben, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot. I really don’t want to get involved with anyone, whether for one night or a month. I’m still coming to terms with losing my husband. It’s like I’m riding a roller-coaster. One day I think I’m moving on, getting a new life; the next it’s as though I’m still back at that first day, hearing the chief constable telling me Jamie wouldn’t be coming home ever again. It’s been hard. I still miss him.’
She stopped. What on earth was she doing, telling him all this? He didn’t need to know. A simple ‘No, thank you’ to that desire lurking in his eyes would’ve been enough. But she wanted him so badly it hurt. She yearned to be held by those strong arms, to be taken away on a wave of passion so wild that she forgot everything for a short while. She stared up at the man who’d unlocked this need in her. ‘I’m sorry.’
Now he did touch her. A gentle trace down her cheek with his forefinger. ‘Don’t be. I understand.’
Really? ‘Thanks.’
‘My wife died nearly three years ago.’ Pain bleached his suntanned cheeks, cracked his voice, shook the finger on her cheek. ‘I miss her every minute of every day.’
Then he was gone. Striding down the corridor as though the devil was after him, sending him on his way—away from her. Leaving her to contemplate the coincidence that they’d both lost a spouse. He really did understand her mixed-up emotions.
Ben slammed the truck door shut, snapped the ignition key on, and clanged the shift into forward drive.
Then hesitated. Rachel reminded him of things he’d banned from his life for ever. Essential things like caring for someone special, like sharing day-to-day occurrences such as buying the milk, cleaning the kitchen bench after having a meal together.
His head banged back against the headrest. He had told her about Catrina. He never talked about his late wife. To anyone. Not to his friends. Not to his family. No one. Yet he’d blurted it out to the doc whom he’d known less than a week. The shock in her eyes had woken him up from that desire-induced state he’d slipped into. Desire had crept through him without thought, without any hindrance on his part, igniting a deep need he hadn’t known he had. A need to love again, to be loved again. How had this happened? All he’d done was ask her if she wanted a coffee.
All he’d done?
When was the last time he’d asked a woman out for a coffee?
You invited Catrina to join you at that café down on the wharf in Wellington. You’d been watching her feeding the pigeons and fallen in love with her there and then. You walked right up to her, introduced yourself and offered to buy her a cappuccino. Yes, she’d said so fast you’d had to check you’d heard her correctly. She’d grinned. And the rest was history.
Except it had been a short history. Catrina’s life had been cut off when she’d overshot the motorway off-ramp, made an abrupt turn at speed and lost control of the car. Life was cruel. While he hadn’t got much more than a scratch, Catrina’s ribcage had been crushed by the steering wheel. Flail chest. Every time she’d breathed those broken ribs had torn at her lungs.
All his medical training had been for nothing that night. The best he’d been able to do had been to hold Catrina’s hand and talk to her as they waited for the paramedics—who were never going to be able to save her. He hadn’t been able to save her life, or even dull her pain. He’d been useless. Devastated as he’d watched the life leave his beautiful, vibrant Catrina. Furious that he’d felt relief when she could no longer feel the excruciating pain.
Ben gasped a lungful of humid air. He eased his foot onto the accelerator and drove carefully down the narrow lane out to the main route into town. His hands were shaking. Sweat beaded on his brow. He hadn’t consciously thought about that night in months. He didn’t go there any more than necessary. It hurt too much. That night had been the end of one life and the start of another less involved one that had brought him here, away from family and friends. His wife was squeezed into a tight, locked cell in his heart, only to be taken out when he got so desperate for her laughter, her wisdom, her chatter that he couldn’t ignore it. And every time he did that he sank into a black hole that took a binge session at the pub to blot out the pain.
So why had he lifted the lid on all that now? Why with Rachel Simmonds? The doc. Something about her had touched him in a place he’d long believed dried up and dead. It wasn’t sex. Oh, he wanted that as well. No doubt about it. But that wasn’t what was going on here. So what was? He didn’t have an answer.
You don’t want an answer. You’re too afraid of where it will take you.
The truck surged forward as Ben’s foot pressed the accelerator. His shoulders bit into the seat behind him. Whoa, slow down, man.
Slow down on everything. Especially slow down on being friendly with your new neighbour.
Take every day one moment at a time. Stay as far away from her as you possibly can. Give her time to settle in. Get to know her slowly. Why? Because then you’ll have got past this wish to make love to her, to look out for her, to show her how things work in island life, and then you’ll be able to have a normal, friendly, neighbourly relationship with her.
Ben grunted. One day at a time? Sure. He could do that. If he was blind and deaf. If his peanut brain returned to normal.
Rachel flopped down on the towel she’d spread over the sand. Splashing around in the sea was the perfect way to finish a day after work. Not that work had been strenuous, far from it. Everyone she met, staff and patients, were very friendly. She might find her enjoyment from the job again if this kept up. But from her life? That was expecting too much.
The sound of clapping came from further down the beach where a wedding was taking place. The bride looked gorgeous in her cream-and-gold dress as her new husband kissed her. Her attendants wore gold, strapless gowns, while the men were dressed in open-necked cream shirts, tan trousers and bare feet. Rachel grinned. Back home no one would believe her when she told them. Bare feet at a wedding? Practical in the sand and a fun element in the photos. The clear sky and blue waters of the lagoon made a perfect setting for the ceremony. No wonder so many Kiwis came over here to get married.
‘Mummy, look at me jumping the waves,’ Riley called from the water’s edge where tiny wavelets lapped.
‘Watch out for sharp rocks,’ she called back. A cut on his foot could take some time to heal in this moist heat.
‘He loves the beach.’ Ben hunkered down on his haunches beside her.
She swallowed. With the effect Ben had on her she should’ve sensed him coming. It had taken time and a patient in labour for her to get past his startling