Summer Beach Reads. Natalie Anderson

made her confess, ‘You were always brilliant, Hayden. And ten years hasn’t done anything to diminish that, it seems.’

      He considered her. ‘For what it’s worth, the feeling is mutual.’

      She tossed her hair back further from her face. ‘It’s worth nothing. I don’t care what you think of me.’

      ‘Oh, that’s clearly not true, or you wouldn’t be sitting here twitching to comb your hair.’

      Again her fingers betrayed her. She curled them into her fist.

      He didn’t miss it. His eyes darkened and grew sharp. ‘Ask me what I meant when I said this look particularly suits you.’

      ‘No. I don’t care what you meant.’ And the thump thump of her heart was a powerful motivator to silence.

      ‘Yes, you do. You’re just too scared to know.’

      She glared at him silently.

      ‘I meant that you look like you’ve just crawled out of a particularly warm and sensual bed.’

      Heat instantly returned to her cheeks.

      ‘There it is again. The splash of passion.’

      Damn him. She tightened her fists. ‘If you’d wanted to play with someone’s emotions you should have stayed upstairs.’

      ‘Why can’t I just be commenting on fact? You’re usually so impeccably presented, so seeing you like this is … stimulating.’

      ‘You should have stayed upstairs for that, too.’

      ‘Are you trying to force me to go knocking on Caryn’s door?’

      Tension cranked up her spine. ‘Actually, no, I don’t think she’s done anything to deserve the heartbreak you’d inevitably bring.’

      One dark blond brow lifted. ‘Harsh words, Shirley. You doubt she would understand the concept of a one-night stand?’

      ‘I doubt she’d ever have conceived of what a one-night stand with a man like you might mean.’

      The suavadore act dropped. Immediately. The air turned dangerous. ‘Meaning?’

      Her heart thumped for a different reason then. But she’d started it … ‘Meaning it might not be enough for you just to have her and leave. You’d have to break her first.’

      He stared. ‘“Break her”? Is that what you think?’

      ‘It’s what you do, Hayden. You take people apart. And you don’t always take care to reassemble them again.’

      His jaw flexed. ‘Have I done that with you?’

      He’d done it to year after year of idealistic students on Saturdays. ‘I won’t give you the chance,’ she vowed. ‘Ever.’

      ‘Forever’s a long time.’

      ‘Fortunately, I have outstanding discipline.’

      His smile deepened. ‘Oh, yes, you do. But don’t you see what that is to a man like me?’

      She watched him, critically aware that they were alone, in a room full of beds and not much else. And critically aware of what had happened between them the last time they were here. He twisted his body into a seated position, facing her. Closer.

      ‘It’s a red rag.’

      She lifted her chin. ‘I still have free will.’

      ‘I think we’ve seen how far your free will got you, just this afternoon.’

      ‘I’m not interested in a one-night stand.’

      His brow lifted. ‘You’d be interested in something longer?’

      ‘No, but that’s a moot point. You’d never want something longer.’

      ‘You think not?’

      ‘I know not. If you did you’d have shacked up with any one of those women years ago.’

      ‘What do you have against them? They were all perfectly nice women.’

      ‘Give me one single name.’

      He blinked at her.

      ‘Just one, Hayden. If they were so lovely.’ She waited. ‘I think there’s a reason you’re so sold on the idea of a love that’s intellectual, because it means you can explore the physical with no risk of attachment. Keep the two firmly separate.’ She stood. ‘But I’m not interested in being your intellectual intimate any more than your physical one.’

       Liar!

      His face hardened. ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because you’re too much like hard work. And too risky.’

      Blue eyes narrowed. ‘What are you risking? Not your heart, which you’ve firmly stated is inviolate. And not your body, which you protect behind layers of sod-off. So what’s left?’

       My soul.

      ‘Is this the conversation you were looking for when you came in here tonight?’ she gritted.

      ‘No. But maybe it was overdue. I certainly appreciate knowing how you really see me.’

      Guilt niggled. ‘Hayden, I wouldn’t be here with you at all if I thought you were a horrible human being. You’re not. But you’re not someone that a woman should be backing, emotionally. Not once she gets to know you.’

      He reeled back on the bed.

      Then he stood. ‘Right.’

      She stood behind him, stepped towards him. ‘Hayden—’

      Hayden stopped her with an upheld hand. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Shirley.’ He got through the door and pulled it shut behind him before breathing again.

      Not pity. Not on top of the mouthful of reality she’d already delivered. Just when he thought he didn’t have anything soft and squishy left inside, along came Shirley in her metaphorical commando boots and ground what little was left into pulp.

       Not once she gets to know you.

      Not that he hadn’t long suspected it—or could even disagree with it—but something about having it spelled out quite so dispassionately …

      By her …

      Well, he’d wanted conversation. And one thing he knew about Shirley was that any time spent with her would never go where he thought it would. He’d imagined himself a cosy little scenario that involved the two of them talking long into the night, sharing. Bonding. He’d not let himself imagine anything beyond that, but her wild and dishevelled state over dinner had teased and taunted and distracted him for most of the evening as he’d pretended to listen to Caryn but in fact fantasised about ways of getting Shirley that mussed up himself.

      She’d been happily engaged in a long conversation with their trusty Captain about piracy on the high seas—though, given a chance and despite his age, he’d bet his life that the charming Captain Konstantinos would have proven just as untrustworthy with his passenger—and he’d had the double assault of endless monologue on one side and the Shirley Marr show on the other. Complete with seamen who didn’t know he understood some Greek discussing with much hilarity the comparative merits of tanned blondes versus sultry brunettes.

      The brunettes won.

      It wasn’t fair to blame Caryn for not being as interesting as the only other woman in the room. The two were completely different people. Night and day. Except he’d spent his entire life indulging in bright, obsequious day when deep down inside he was all about the cool, mysterious night. The cover of night disguised so many more faults.

       Shannon. Courtney. Louisa. Dominique.

      He had as many names as Shirley