The kiss, when it inevitably came, was like nothing she’d experienced before. A barely there brush of lips on lips, then butterfly kisses across her cheeks, her eyelids and her temple.
With maddening deliberation, his mouth eventually returned to hers, but only to tease again, his teeth nibbling softly at her lips, tongue darting in to touch her tongue, withdrawing, darting, departing so her lips were hot then cool, and the pressure building within her was volcanic—a volcano about to blow.
He must have kicked with his foot, for the swing began to move again, and the movement lulled her senses, so when his tongue invaded her mouth and his hand brushed against her breast, she sighed and leaned into him, welcoming him, kissing him back, the intensity of the kiss growing until it blotted out her mind.
It was such a cliché, sitting on a porch swing, kissing like this.
Keanu was desperately trying to keep a grasp on reality, to keep his mind from going blank and letting his body take over all his actions.
They’d stop soon—well, they could hardly make love out here, especially not when there might be murderous miners wandering around.
But right now kissing Caroline was filling his soul with delight. His body wasn’t quite so delighted, wanting more than fervid kisses.
Did he love her?
Her tongue was tangling with his, and he felt almost painfully aroused, but he couldn’t break the kiss, couldn’t pull his lips from hers, his arms from around her body.
She was his.
That was what the kiss was saying.
His kiss, and her response, making a statement.
About the future?
Or about attraction?
‘Go to bed,’ he whispered, his lips close to her ear. ‘Maddie is back tomorrow, and a FIFO nurse is joining her, so we’ll both have time off. We’ll talk.’
‘About?’ she murmured back.
‘About us, and our future, and attraction and love and all kinds of things.’
She smiled and kissed him gently on the lips, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
Tears of happiness this time, the brilliance of her smile told him that.
He stood up and pulled her upright, then turned her and nudged her towards the front door.
‘I’ll sleep on the couch out here. Reuben’s got some sensible young men staked out around the veranda, and Harold’s in a swag in the kitchen.’
He knew she was going to protest, so he kissed her again—swift and hard—then pulled back.
‘Go,’ he said.
KEANU WAS DOWN at the hospital early—just the thought of Caroline asleep inside the house had been enough to keep him sleepless. Deciding to use the time productively, he stopped in at the office, realising it had been a couple of days since he’d dealt with his emails. He logged on to the computer and drummed his fingers as he waited for the screen to load.
And suddenly, there it was. An email from his solicitor in Cairns. So it was official—just like that, and without a word exchanged between him and his ex, his marriage was dissolved. He was a free man, although in truth he’d never been free. Not from the only person who’d ever held his heart. Just what did this mean for him and Caroline? In so many ways this wasn’t the right time, but if not now, then when? If she could forgive him, then maybe, just maybe, she could love him.
But Keanu was roused from his musings by the sudden appearance of Sam in the office.
‘Keanu, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve just been looking at that ulcer again. The more I see it, the more convinced I am that we’re dealing with something different here. I’d value a second opinion.’
Forcing his thoughts back to his work, Keanu nodded briskly. ‘Of course. I agree that there’s more to this than meets the eye. Has our patient said anything else about it to you?’
Sam shook his head as he pushed open the door to the ward, Keanu following right behind. They made their way to Raoul’s bedside, where Keanu leant over to examine the uncovered wound.
‘It’s not looking good,’ Keanu agreed, frowning in concentration.
‘Not only that, but according to the limited testing I’ve been able to do, and our patient’s response to the medication—or total lack of response—it just has to be something else, but I’ve no idea what eats away at the flesh so badly and just continues to degrade the wound.’
‘Hydrofluoric acid.’
Keanu wasn’t sure where the answer had come from, though apparently it had surfaced from some deep recess in his mind.
Which must have been working, for all he felt like a very confused zombie what with all that was happening in his personal life right now …
Sam turned to face him, grabbed his arm and steered him back out through the door.
‘What did you say?’
‘Hydrofluoric acid,’ Keanu repeated, but with more certainty this time. ‘Dreadful stuff. It just eats away at the skin and flesh and if you happen to drink it you’re done for.’
‘Well, I’m glad you kept that little bit of information to yourself until we were away from the patient. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it—though I probably did as a student—but I’ve never come across it as an acid burn. Except …’ He paused in thought. ‘Now I look at the wound as an acid burn it’s starting to make sense. But this—what did you call it?’
‘Hydrofluoric acid. It’s the only acid that eats through glass so has to be kept in plastic containers. Years ago a very small concentration of it was used in a product for taking rust marks out of clothing but I think that’s been banned now.’
‘So why on earth would anyone have any of it on the fairly isolated islands of M’Langi? If it’s as dangerous as you say, you can’t just order a gallon or two off the internet.’
‘I doubt a plane would carry it. But someone’s brought it back here in hand luggage or by boat. Apparently there are places you can buy it. I imagine it has commercial uses of some kind or it wouldn’t still be manufactured.’
Sam frowned at him.
‘But why?’
Keanu heard the plane coming in, hopefully bringing relief staff, but Sam showed no desire to go rushing off to meet it.
‘Keanu?’
Neither would he until he got an answer.
‘It dissolves glass,’ he repeated. ‘And glass is made of sand, which is very degraded quartz, and gold comes in quartz veins. You pop a piece of gold-bearing quartz into a jar of hydrofluoric and, voilà, in a couple of days you have wee nuggets of gold.’
Sam was staring at him in disbelief.
‘You’re saying men steal gold-bearing quartz from the mine?’
He hadn’t really been saying that—hadn’t wanted to mention the matter at all—but they had a patient …
‘Not all of them, and I’d say theft was rare back when the place was properly managed, but those who haven’t been paid for a while probably feel they deserve it. Some of them might pinch it anyway—no one’s perfect.’
He