The Love Islands Collection. Jane Porter

caught his eye in the foliage next to the beach—a little flash of pink. It wasn’t the tropical flowers that he’d spotted earlier; they’d been yellow, orange and red. This wasn’t fauna. This was man-made.

      Rachel was sitting on the edge of the beach, just as it merged with the dark green foliage. Her pink cotton T-shirt stood out. She hadn’t even noticed him, her knees pulled up to her chest and her eyes fixed on the sky above.

      He bit his lip. He couldn’t leave her there like that. She wasn’t used to trauma. She wasn’t used to accidents. This was totally out of left field for her.

      Part of him wanted to walk in the other direction. The Nathan of eight years ago wanted to leave her sitting there alone. But the Doctors Without Borders medic wouldn’t let him. In his five years he’d never once left a colleague alone after a traumatic incident. He wasn’t about to start now.

      His legs moved before his brain started to function. They were on automatic pilot. He didn’t even think. He just plopped down on the sand next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

      ‘Okay?’

      She didn’t speak, but she didn’t pull away either—not like earlier. Her breathing was shaky and her shoulders gave the slightest quiver beneath his arm. He moved closer, pulling her to him and speaking quietly. ‘You did good, Rach. Emergency medicine doesn’t come easily to some folks. You acted as though it was second nature.’

      ‘I just acted on instinct.’ Her voice wavered.

      ‘Did that include when you dived amongst those barrels that could have pounded you to pieces?’ He still couldn’t believe she’d done that. He still couldn’t believe he hadn’t been quick enough to stop her.

      Her head sagged onto his shoulder. She stared out at the sea. ‘I don’t know why I did that.’

      He smiled. ‘Probably because you’re headstrong, stubborn and don’t listen to anyone around you.’

      She gave a little laugh. ‘I guess some things don’t change at all.’

      He felt himself tense a little. Part of him didn’t want to offer comfort to her. Part of him didn’t want to reassure and support her. He could feel his body reacting to hers. The familiarity of her underneath his arm, leaning against him as if they still fitted together—even after all this time.

      His breath was caught somewhere in his throat. He wanted to tell her that everything changed. Things changed in the blink of an eye and the world you thought you had just slipped through your fingers.

      But he couldn’t let the words out.

      He’d been down this road himself—acting on instinct in places where it could get you into trouble. But he’d been lucky. He’d always been surrounded by supportive colleagues. Doctors Without Borders was like that.

      He didn’t even want to touch on his natural instinct to the car backfiring in Melbourne that ended with him crouched in a ball on the street. Working in war zones did that to you. And it was hard to shake it off.

      And, because of that, he took a deep breath and stayed where he was. Sometimes—even for a few minutes—a colleague just needed some support. He’d had colleagues who’d supported him. Now, it was his job to return the favour. No matter what else was going on in his head.

      Right now it was just them. Just the two of them for the first time in eight years, sitting together on a beach.

      He pushed everything else away. Three weeks on an island with Rachel?

      There would be plenty of time for repercussions. But, for now, he would just wait.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      THE SHOWER WAS distinctly dodgy, spouting an uneven trickle of water. With thick hair like Rachel’s, rinsing the shampoo out was a challenge. She pulled on a plain pink button-down shirt and another pair of khaki shorts and her hiking boots again. The smell of breakfast was wafting around. Ron had been right; the catering cabin was definitely the most popular place on the island.

      Part of her felt bad for the celebrities who had spent their first night in camp, half of them lying on the equivalent of yoga mats on the jungle floor. If it had been her she would have stuck her head in the sleeping bag, pulled the tie at the top and not come out again until morning. But, then again, she wasn’t here to entertain the audience.

      Last night in the cabin had been hard enough. Knowing that across the simple sitting area and through the thin walls Nathan was lying in another bed made her skin tingle.

      She’d spent years trying not to think about Nathan. Guilt always ensued when she thought about him. For the first year she’d had to concentrate on her own treatment and recovery. The support from Darius had actually helped; he’d been a welcome distraction. He liked to be the centre of attention in his own little world—even if he was keeping it secret. Sometimes it had felt as if Rachel was his only confidante and that could be a bit overwhelming—especially when she had her own recovery to consider.

      Last night had been pretty sleepless. She tried to rationalise. She was on the Whitsundays—beautiful islands in the Coral Sea with a whole host of wildlife around her. The nightlife sounds were always going to be a little different. But that wasn’t what had kept her awake.

      If she closed her eyes really tightly she could almost imagine that she could hear Nathan breathing in the other room. It brought back a whole host of memories she just wasn’t ready for. Her hand on his skin, watching the rise and fall of his chest and feeling the murmur of his heart beneath her palm. The soft noises he made while he slept. The fact that in their five years together, he’d never ever turned his back when they’d slept together. His arms had always been around her.

      The feelings of comfort and security swept over her—things she’d missed beyond measure these last few years. And that didn’t even begin to touch on the passion. The warmth. The love.

      Getting up and heading for the shower to try and scrub off the feeling of his arm around her shoulders had been all she could do. Nothing could change what had happened between them. Nothing could change the look in his eyes when he’d first seen her.

      She’d felt the buzz yesterday. She’d heard the concern in his voice when she dived in amongst those barrels. She still wasn’t quite sure why she’d done that. It seemed like a good idea at the time—she was the only person small enough to get through the gap and to the patient.

      But once she’d been in there she was scared. Hearing Nathan’s voice was not only reassuring but it also bathed her in comfort, knowing that he was concerned about her. She shouldn’t read anything into it. She shouldn’t. She knew him. Or at least she used to know him. Nathan would have been concerned for any colleague.

      Had five years working for Doctors Without Borders changed him? Had her walking away from him changed him? She hoped not. She hoped his good heart was still there. Even if he only showed it to her in a moment of crisis.

      She followed the smell of eggs and bacon. Most of the crew were already eating at the variety of tables. Nathan was in the corner, having a heated discussion with one of the directors.

      Rachel filled her plate with toast, bacon, eggs and coffee, then walked over, putting her tray on the table. ‘Anything I should know about, guys?’

      The angry words instantly dissipated as both sets of eyes looked at her in surprise. The hidden similarities between a television crew and a hospital was amazing. Rachel had spent too many years working amongst people with big egos to be thrown by anything she came across.

      ‘Is this a medical matter or a technical matter?’ she asked as she sat down and spread butter on her toast.

      Nathan blinked. He still seemed surprised at her frankness. ‘It’s a mixture of both. Bill just presented me with a revised list of the challenges. I think some