Red-Hot Honeymoon. Joss Wood

in it?’

      Finn took a long sip of beer. ‘You’re going to nag me until I tell you, aren’t you?’

      ‘Actually, if it’s a touchy or personal subject I won’t. I know that I’m relentless, and curious, but I do respect your right not to talk. Just say pass and we’ll move on.’ Callie shook her head and caught his look of surprise. ‘This agreement we have doesn’t include sharing our secrets. Well, you’re welcome to share yours but I’m not sharing mine.’

      Finn raised the bottle to his lips again and shook his head looking bewildered. That was okay, Callie thought. Bewildered she could live with. Annoyed or bored would make her think that she’d overstepped the mark.

      ‘So why is there nothing personal in your house?’ Callie grinned at his exasperation. ‘What? You didn’t say pass!’

      ‘You are going to drive me crazy—I can just tell.’ Finn closed his eyes and scratched the spot between his eyebrows. ‘When I bought the house Liz moved in. She travelled as well, but she spent six weeks away and then a month at home. Her schedule was set but I could be away for two months, home for a week and gone again. She asked me time and time again to help her decorate the house—but, hell, I’m a guy. I’d rather watch sport or … watch paint dry. So one day she dumped all my stuff and all her stuff in the middle of the lounge—right over there—in front of the TV. There was a rugby match I wanted to watch so we had to sort through it. The whole process made me realize …’

      ‘Pray tell?’ Callie’s lips quirked when he paused for dramatic effect.

      ‘… that I buy crap and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near art galleries or home décor shops. If it’s cheap and nasty, tasteless and fake, I will buy it.’

      Callie’s laughed bounced off the walls, and she was still chuckling when Finn led the way to the veranda, where Callie took a seat on an antique bench that had been converted into a swing.

      ‘It’s really better for everyone if I just hand over my credit card. Nobody gets hurt that way.’

      Finn took a seat on a cane chair and propped his feet up on the coffee table. After a minute of comfortable silence he spoke again.

      ‘So, you said that there were things we needed to discuss?’

      ‘I did.’ Callie kicked off her sandals and felt comfortable enough to tuck her feet under her bottom on the denim fabric of the swing. ‘I put in for a month’s holiday today, and I also managed to organise it so that I don’t have to fly to Paris this week. So I am, in the most virginal sense, all yours until we go.’

      ‘That makes it easier, because there are a couple of things we need to sort out before we go.’

      ‘Like?’

      ‘Like the lawyers for the magazine would like you to sign an indemnity form, and they’d also like you to go for a full medical—just to cover their legal asses.’

      Callie wrinkled her nose. ‘What a pain.’

      ‘I use the same travel clinic all the time. I’ll make an appointment for you.’ Finn rested his beer bottle on his flat stomach. ‘You’ll need clothes that are suitable for five and six-star resorts—’

      Callie looked down at her designer sundress and lifted her eyebrows. ‘Finn, I am a fashion buyer—I think I have the clothes covered.’

      ‘Glad you do,’ Finn grumbled, looking frustrated and miserable. ‘Because I sure don’t. I keep thinking that I have to get my act together and I keep putting it off. I hate clothes-shopping.’

      ‘You always looked okay to me.’ Better than okay—mighty fine, in fact. And his clothes were nice, too. ‘So, does your ineptitude with home decoration extend to your wardrobe?’

      Finn tipped his bottle up to lips. ‘Yep. In spring and autumn Liz would drag my ass to the shops. She’d choose and I’d pay.’

      Callie’s lips quirked. Shopping was something she could help him with. After taking a big sip of wine, she stood up and jerked her head, indicating that he should get up too. ‘Let’s go.’

      ‘Where?’

      ‘Up to your bedroom.’

      When she saw his eyes widen and a gleam appear, she rolled her eyes and thought that she should explain—quickly.

      ‘Since you’re giving me an all-expenses-paid holiday, the least I can do is to help you out with your wardrobe. I’ll go through your clothes, pick out what’s suitable, and then we’ll go shopping for what you need.’

      Finn looked suddenly and momentarily panicked, but she put it down to the fact that no man—especially one as masculine as Finn—wanted to spend any part of his evening discussing clothes.

      ‘Trust me … it’ll be painless.’

      ‘I don’t think that having you in my bedroom is a very good idea,’ Finn stated as he followed her through the house and up the stairs.

      ‘We’re taking it slow, one day at a time, and today is not that day, Banning,’ Callie told him as they hit the top floor. ‘Where’s your bedroom?”

      Finn gestured wordlessly to the closed door on their right. Callie opened it and walked into a white-on-cream, endlessly pale bedroom. Placing her hands on her hips, she lifted her eyebrows as she took in the cream and white striped walls, the deep beige curtains and the neutrally shaded pillows piled high on the floor.

      She felt as if she’d stepped into a dairy.

      ‘Wow …’ she murmured.

      ‘I hate this room,’ Finn muttered, standing at the door, glaring.

      ‘It’s not that bad … it just needs some colour,’ Callie said, forcing herself to sound cheerful. She gestured to the bed—a white wood canopied monstrosity that dominated the room. ‘You must also have hated the mattress.’

      ‘What?’ Finn barked.

      ‘The mattress—it’s gone.’

      Finn shoved both hands into his hair and dropped his head, for a brief instant looking like a little boy who’d been slapped. Then his face changed and turned hard and determined.

      ‘You know what? Let’s not worry about checking what I have that I can take. I’ll just buy a whole new wardrobe.’

      Callie started to argue, but stopped when she saw the misery underneath the fury. ‘That’s an expensive exercise,’ she said carefully, knowing that there was something fundamental that she was missing.

      ‘I can afford it,’ Finn said and gestured for her to leave the room.

      Callie knew that it wasn’t the right time to argue with him, to try and push his buttons. He wanted her out for some deeply private reason, so she left the bedroom and headed for the stairs. She waited until they were halfway down before speaking again.

      ‘Still want me to help you shop for clothes?’

      Finn’s tension seemed to fade as he closed the door behind him. His white teeth flashed. ‘Hell, yes. I might come back with one of those khaki vests with a hundred pockets and pants that unzip at the knees to become shorts.’

      Callie shuddered at the thought, not entirely convinced he was joking. ‘You definitely need help.’

      Finn’s broad hand, warm and exciting, encircled her neck as they walked down the stairs. ‘In more ways than one. So, what are we ordering for supper?’

      She loved spending other people’s money, Callie thought, holding up two shirts for Finn that she really liked. And it was so much fun shopping for a guy. Finn didn’t think so, but she did. They’d only been at it for a couple of hours and he was starting to wilt—the lightweight.

      There was a pile of bags in Finn’s SUV already, and