Not sure what to expect, she delved into the bag. It was jam-packed with Snickers bars. ‘Ohmigod!’ she exclaimed in delighted disbelief.
He shifted from foot to foot. ‘You used to like them.’
She smiled at him. ‘I still do. They’re my favourite.’
She didn’t have the heart to add that when she was eighteen she’d been able to devour the chocolate bars by the dozen without gaining weight, but that at thirty they were an occasional indulgence.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You couldn’t have given me anything I’d like more.’
She wasn’t lying.
Ben’s thoughtfully chosen gift in a brown paper bag was way more valuable than any of the impersonal ‘must-have’ trinkets Jason had used to choose and have gift wrapped by the shop. Her last present from him had been an accessory for her electronic tablet that he had used more than she ever had.
Her heart swelled with affection for Ben. For wounded, difficult, vulnerable Ben.
She looked up at him, aching to throw her arms around him and kiss him. Kiss him for remembering her sweet tooth. Kiss him for the simple honesty of his brown-bagged gift. Kiss him for showing her that, deep down somewhere beneath his scars and defences, her Sir Galahad on a surfboard was still there.
But she felt too wary to do so. She wasn’t sure she could handle any more rejection in one day. His words echoed in her head and in her heart: ‘I don’t want you in Dolphin Bay.’
‘Thank you,’ she said again, feeling the words were totally inadequate to express her pleasure at his gesture.
He looked pleased with himself in a very male, tell-me-again-how-clever-I-was way she found endearing.
‘I bought all the shop had—which just happened to be thirty.’
She smiled up at him. ‘The shopkeeper must have thought you were a greedy pig with a desperate addiction to chocolate.’
‘Nah. They know chilli corn chips are more to my taste.’
She hugged the bag of chocolate bars to her chest. ‘So I won’t have to share? Because you might have to fight me for them.’
‘That makes you the greedy pig,’ he said. ‘They’re all yours.’ He stood still, looking deep into her eyes. ‘Happy birthday, Sandy.’
She saw warmth mixed with wariness—which might well be a reflection of what showed in her own eyes.
Silence fell between them. She was aware of her own quickened breathing over the faint hum of the air-conditioning. Felt intoxicated by the salty, so familiar scent of him.
Now.
Surely now was the moment to kiss him? Suddenly she desperately wanted to feel his mouth—that sexy, sexy mouth—on hers. To taste again the memory that had lingered through twelve years away from him.
She felt herself start to sway towards him, her lips parting, her gaze focusing on the blue eyes that seemed to go a deeper shade of blue as he returned her gaze. Her heart was thudding so loudly surely he could hear it.
But as she moved he tensed and took an abrupt step backwards.
She froze. Rejection again. When would she learn?
She stepped back too, so hastily she was in danger of tripping backwards into the room. She wrapped her robe tighter around her, focused on the list of hotel safety instructions posted by the door rather than on him. A flush rose up her neck to sting her cheeks.
She couldn’t think of a word to say.
After an excruciatingly uncomfortable moment Ben cleared his throat. ‘I’ve been sent on a mission from Aunt Ida to find and retrieve you and take you to the hospital to meet with her.’
Sandy swallowed hard, struggled to make her voice sound light-hearted. ‘Sounds serious stuff. Presumably an urgent briefing on the Bay Books project?’
He snapped his fingers. ‘Right first guess.’
She smiled, knowing it probably looked forced but determined to appear natural—not as if just seconds ago she’d been longing for his kiss.
‘Let me guess again. She’s getting anxious about filling me in on how it all works?’
‘Correct again,’ he said. ‘I promised to return with you ASAP to complete the mission.’
‘Funnily enough I have no other pressing social engagements in Dolphin Bay.’ She turned and started to walk back into the room, then stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him. ‘Do you want to come in while I get dressed?’
His glance went briefly to her open neckline. He cleared his throat. ‘Not a good idea.’
She blushed even redder and clutched the robe tighter. ‘I mean... I didn’t mean...’ she stuttered.
‘How about I come back to get you in half an hour?’
Her voice came out an octave higher. ‘Twenty minutes max will be fine. Where will you be if I’m ready earlier?’
‘Downstairs in my office.’
‘Pick me up in twenty, then.’
He turned to go.
She swallowed against the sudden tension in her throat. ‘Ben?’ she said.
He swung back to face her, a question on his face.
‘Thank you for the Snickers. I won’t say I’ll treasure them for ever, because they’ll be devoured in double quick time. But...thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘It was—’
Afterwards she wondered at the impulse that had made her forget all caution, all fear of rejection. Before she could think about whether it was a good thing or not to do, propelled by pure instinct, she leaned up on her bare toes and kissed him lightly on his cheek.
Then she staggered at the impact of his closeness, at the memories that came rushing back in a flood of heat and hormones. The feel of his beard-roughened cheek beneath her lips, the strength of his tightly muscled body, the out-and-out maleness of him. She clung to him, overwhelmed by nostalgia for the past, for when she’d had the right to hold him close. How could she ever have let go of that right?
His hands grasped her shoulders to steady her. She could feel their warmth on her skin through the thick cloth of her robe. Swiftly, he released her. He muttered something inarticulate.
Reeling, she lifted her head in response, saw the shutters come down over his eyes—but not before she’d glimpsed something she couldn’t read. It could have been passion but was more likely panic.
Bad, bad idea, Sandy, she berated herself. Even a chaste peck is too much for him to handle.
Too much for you to handle.
But no way was she was going to let herself feel ashamed of a friendly thank-you kiss. She was used to spontaneous expressions of affection between friends.
She forced her breath to steady, tilted her chin upwards. ‘See you in twenty,’ she said, praying he didn’t notice the tremor in her voice.
* * *
Ben stood back and watched as Sandy talked with his great-aunt in her room at the brand new Dolphin Bay Memorial Hospital. He might have known they would hit it off.
On doctor’s orders, Ida was lying flat on her back in her hospital bed. She’d been told she had to hold that position for six weeks to heal her cracked pelvis.
Sandy had pulled up a chair beside her and was chatting away as if she and Ida were old friends.
Why, although they were talking about authors and titles