Red-Hot Honeymoon. Joss Wood

of shoeboxes.

      He wondered why he was bothering. If any thieves broke in and found themselves in Callie’s bedroom while she was away they’d think she’d been ransacked already and leave.

      Finn tried to close the cupboard doors and wondered why Callie wouldn’t deal with the box herself. Why would a woman who obviously loved clothes—and, he presumed, accessories—ignore a box full of such amazing jewellery? Why couldn’t she even open it to look inside for a ring she needed?

      Strange. But interesting. Curiosity, he reminded himself, and he didn’t need to indulge it. Not where Callie was concerned.

      Finn rubbed the back of his neck, thinking that she couldn’t do the jewellery box and he couldn’t do his bedroom. Maybe they deserved each other.

      Finn left the room and jogged down the stairs. He found Callie sitting on a chair in her hallway, legs crossed and her foot jiggling.

      She looked up at him with those amazing reticent eyes. ‘Did you find something?’

      ‘Lots of things,’ Finn said, keeping his voice easy. ‘That’s quite a little treasure trove you’ve got there. That box should be in a safe, by the way.’

      Callie lifted a bare shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never looked inside.’

      ‘Why not?’ Finn asked the question although he knew that she wouldn’t answer.

      ‘It’s complicated and I have my reasons.’ Callie stood up and held out her hand. ‘Let’s see it.’

      Finn pulled the two rings from his pocket and dropped them into her hand. He watched as she stared at them. She looked as though she was trying to place them, but after she’d given the tiniest shake to her head she picked the wedding ring up to take a closer look.

      ‘It’s really pretty.’

      ‘It has a date in 1909 inscribed on the band,’ Finn told her.

      ‘It must be my great-grandmother’s—Seb told me that some of the family pieces were in the box,’ Callie replied, sliding both rings over the ring finger on her left hand. ‘They fit. Yay.’

      ‘Good.’ Finn smiled lazily. ‘That was easily sorted. Just promise me you’ll get the box into a safe deposit box or just a safe. There were quite a few bigger and better diamonds and precious stones than that one.’

      Callie shifted on her feet. ‘Maybe.’ She nudged a suitcase with her foot. ‘Shall we go?’

      ‘Yep.’ Finn looked at the pile of suitcases on the floor and sighed. Okay, they were going for a while, but two large cases and a carry-on seemed a bit excessive. But judging by what had been left behind she probably thought that this was—what had she called it the other day?—a capsule wardrobe. He thought it looked like backache waiting for a place to happen.

      ‘Okay, grab your stuff and I’ll wait for you in the car,’ he said, teasing her.

      Callie looked surprised, then confused, and then her eyes cleared as he realised he was joking. ‘Carry on like that and I’m going to cut you off from fake sex.’

      Finn slung the tote bag over his shoulder and pulled the bigger of the two suitcases up onto its wheels. ‘Fake married for two seconds,’ he grumbled as she opened the front door for him, ‘and I’m already on rations for sex I might not even get. This is a tough gig.’

      ‘You were the one who wanted to get married,’ Callie reminded him. ‘Didn’t I tell you that it was a bad idea? I’m sure I said something about it being a long stupidity …’

      Six hours later Callie stood in the tasteful lobby of the Baobab and Buffalo, sipping a welcome glass of champagne while Finn took care of the details surrounding their stay at this first six-star resort.

      According to their itinerary they would be staying in the honeymoon suite for one night before being moved to another room for the rest of their three-night stay. Since bookings at the Baobab and Buffalo were harder to come by than hen’s teeth, and since this entire ‘honeymoon’ was sponsored—and fake—Callie knew that they were in no position to complain.

      And, really, what was there to complain about? The resort was utterly fantastic. The main building was built in grey stone and lavishly but tastefully decorated. Judging by the discreet signs, there was a business room, a library, various lounges and dining rooms. Callie walked across the lobby, intrigued by the double-volume doors and the view beyond the glass.

      Stepping onto the long veranda, she gasped at the endless view of bush beyond her. Wild and wondrous. There was a watering hole for wildlife at the bottom of the cliff below, and verdant green terraces led to an infinity pool that seemed to cling to the edge of the cliff.

      Well, wow.

      Callie turned at a touch on her shoulder. ‘Mrs Banning?’

      Callie turned and looked into the eyes of a gorgeous redhead. ‘No. I’m Callie—’ Then she remembered that she was supposed to be married and flushed with embarrassment. Her brain kicked up a gear as she tried to explain her gaffe. ‘Sorry—I’m still operating on my own name.’

      The redhead grinned. ‘I absolutely understand; I’m recently married myself. I’m Clem—welcome to the Two B.’

      Callie had read her fair share of celebrity magazines and instantly recognised this ex-model, who’d once been engaged to one of the world’s most notorious musicians. From socialite to living on an upmarket game reserve. Now that was a life-change.

      ‘Thank you. It’s beautiful.’

      Clem sighed. ‘It really is. I’m still in awe of what Nick’s managed to build here.’

      Clem jammed her hands in her khaki shorts and gestured to a dark-haired man who stood at the other end of the veranda, talking to a man dressed in the same uniform of khaki shorts and navy polo shirt.

      ‘That’s Nick and his right-hand man, Jabu. They are the heart and soul of the Two B. Sorry, that’s what we call this place. The Baobab and Buffalo is such a mouthful.’

      Callie watched as Nick and his wife exchanged a look across the veranda that blazed with passion and lust. Callie felt as if she needed a fan or a long drink of water when they finally looked away from each other, but Clem turned back to Callie, acting as if she hadn’t just eye-bonked her husband.

      ‘What are you hoping to do here? Or are you just planning to hibernate in your room and … well, do what honeymooners do?’

      How the hell was she supposed to answer that question? She didn’t even know the answer to any of the questions she had with regard to her and Finn’s relationship—the fake one or the real one!

      Were they going to sleep with each other? Duh. That was a no-brainer—as soon as they had to share a bed they’d be all over each other … there was no way they’d be able to resist. And that would be the start of their three-week fling. It would be hot and sexy and rollercoaster-crazy and she had to remember to keep her emotional distance. No spilling the secrets of your soul, Hollis!

      Callie frowned at the rogue thought. What was wrong with her? She had always been able to separate sex and emotion—why was she worried that she wouldn’t be able to do it with Finn? Because you like him, Callie admitted reluctantly. Because you’d like to be his friend, have him be yours. And that meant taking a step away from being ‘safe’ and unattached; it would take her into uncharted territory …

      ‘Callie?’

      Callie blinked at her hostess. ‘Sorry, I zoned out. Tired …’

      Clem laughed and patted her arm again. ‘No problem—I understand. I was so exhausted after my wedding day I could barely string a sentence together.’

      Yeah, that wasn’t it. Looking into Clem’s beautiful, open, happy face, Callie felt the urge to spill her secrets.

      Actually,