Red-Hot Honeymoon. Joss Wood

Dammit!’

      Finn grinned, happy that he wasn’t the only one who had his mind in the bedroom.

      ‘Ignore me.’ Callie’s low voice drifted down to him.

      Yeah, not easy to do, Finn silently assured her as he swallowed his chuckle.

      Callie pushed her plate away and groaned as she leaned back in her chair. She’d expected a cold supper. She hadn’t expected delicious prawns, spicy fish fillets and perfectly cooked steak. There’d also been a couscous salad and a watermelon, olive and feta salad, along with crusty bread and a variety of dips.

      After the flight from Cape Town and two glasses of red wine she was feeling lazy and hazy and very sleepy. At nearly eight it was fully dark, and the soundtrack of the African bush had started to play. The crickets chirping was a familiar sound, and there was the power saw noise of the African cicada beetle. Occasionally a fish eagle would let rip with a heee-ah, heeah-heeah, and from somewhere that sounded far too close they heard the yelping, woofing and whining of what Finn said was a family of black-backed jackals.

      It was noisy, Callie realised. Very noisy.

      Finn, his strong features looking even more handsome in the low light of the paraffin lamps, looked at her across the table. ‘There’s chocolate mousse in the cool box.’

      ‘I wish I could. I’m stuffed.’

      Like her, Finn had pulled on jeans and a hooded sweatshirt against the cool night air. The blazing fire in the pit kept the worst of the chill off, but this was a place that invited you to have a warm shower and then to snuggle under the down duvet on the bed upstairs, warm in each other’s arms.

      It was an attractive proposition, Callie thought. But Finn had reiterated his wish to sleep in the double hammock. He’d found another down duvet in a storage cupboard on the bathroom platform and announced that he’d be super-warm wrapped up in it in the hammock.

      ‘You look tired,’ Finn commentated, lifting his glass of red to his lips.

      ‘I am.’ Callie leaned her arms on the table. ‘It’s been an interesting week.’

      ‘You should’ve been in Paris by now.’

      Tearing around the city, rushing from designer to designer, not having a moment to enjoy the city in the spring … Callie thought that she would much rather be here.

      ‘You never told me what happened that you could suddenly take me up on my offer to be a fake wife.’

      Could she tell him? Would he understand? Callie ran her finger around the rim of her full glass. He was treating her to three weeks in luxury—maybe he deserved an explanation. And, geez, they were going to be in each other’s company for three weeks—they were going to have to talk! They were going to be friends whether they liked it or not. It was up to her to keep things casual.

      ‘I’m running away—trying to avoid someone,’ she said, looking into the fire pit. So much for keeping it casual!

      ‘Yeah, I sort of realised that.’ Finn stretched out his legs and rested his wine glass on his folded arm. ‘So, who is Laura and why are you avoiding her?’

      Callie jerked her head up. ‘Where did you hear that name?’

      ‘The other day, when you were arguing with your brother. Who is she?’ Finn asked again.

      Well, she’d started this conversation, she couldn’t shut it down now.

      ‘My mother,’ Callie said, slouching down in her chair, crossing her feet at the ankles. ‘She left us. We haven’t heard from her since I was seven. Seb, my brother, has been tracking her movements around the world for years—he’s a hacker and can do that—and they started exchanging emails. The result of which is that Laura is coming home for a three-week visit, landing—’ Callie checked her watch ‘—in about an hour. She and Seb are going to reconnect, and everybody wants me to meet her too. Well, “everybody” being Seb.’

      ‘And you made damn sure that there was no possibility of that happening by leaving the city with me? That’s why you changed your mind about coming?’ Finn said, his voice deep in the darkness.

      ‘Yeah. I needed to leave and you gave me a damn good excuse.’ Would he think she was a coward? That she was being immature? Why did it matter so much that he didn’t judge her?

      Finn pulled his legs in and sat up. ‘So why don’t you want to meet her? Why don’t you want to hear why she left?’

      That question again, Callie thought.

      ‘Because it doesn’t matter! Because nothing she can say—and, trust me, I’ve thought of every excuse she could come up with—would make me feel better, would make me understand. I was seven, Finn. Seven! I needed a mother. Especially since my dad dealt with my mother leaving by hooking up with younger and younger women. They were mostly after his money, and weren’t interested in his little daughter hanging around. Seb was twelve, and he dealt with her leaving by withdrawing into his sports and computers.’

      Callie heard her voice rise and made a conscious effort to remain calm.

      ‘If it wasn’t for Rowan, who lived next door, and Yasmeen—’

      ‘Who is she?’

      ‘Our housekeeper—and I suppose my real mother in every way that counted,’ Callie explained. She pushed her hair off her forehead and shoulders. ‘Look, I know I sound harsh, but I can’t meet Laura. I don’t want to …’

      ‘Don’t want to meet her, like her, risk being hurt by her again?’

      ‘Yeah.’

      He got it—he understood. Damn. There were those fuzzies in her tummy again. She could get used to those. Not a good idea.

      Finn rested his forearms on his thighs and looked up at her, sparks from the fire reflected in his eyes. Callie, feeling as if he’d taken a peek into part of her soul, thought that he’d heard enough from her, so she turned the spotlight onto him.

      ‘So, you mentioned your stepbrothers? How many do you have?’

      Finn half smiled. ‘Three. All younger. They’re driving me nuts lately.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘They were, to put it mildly, upset that the wedding was called off. As I said, because they know me, and know that I never go back on my word, they assumed that the break-up was Liz’s idea. I haven’t bought food for two weeks because someone always pitches up at my house with beer and take-out.’

      ‘Nobody rocked up that night I had dinner at your house,’ Callie pointed out.

      ‘I sent them a group message while I was upstairs and told them I would kick their ass if they didn’t give me a night on my own.’ Finn pulled a face. ‘The next night I had all three of them coming to check up on me and had to spend half the evening reassuring them that I was okay.’

      ‘And are you?’ Callie asked. ‘Okay?’

      ‘Mostly. I’m glad to still be on this assignment, working. Glad of the distraction that is you.’

      Callie smiled at that. Whatever they had cooking it was, she had to admit, a hell of a distraction. ‘It’s surprising that your younger brothers are so protective of you.’

      ‘We’re protective of each other. They’re my brothers. My mum married James when I was fourteen and he already had the boys. Mum died when I was seventeen, and James acted as my legal guardian for a while.’

      ‘Where’s your real dad?’

      ‘Who the hell knows? Jail? Dead? In a gutter somewhere?’ Finn said harshly.

      He rubbed a hand over his face, and when he finally met her eyes she made sure that her face was impassive.

      ‘Pretend I didn’t say