man—this millionaire—’
‘Yes?’
‘He might—’ Sam hesitated, uncomfortably aware that if he kept on talking about himself, he was taking this whole subterfuge thing way too far.
To his relief, Meg didn’t wait for him to finish. She jumped out of the doorless Moke and grinned at him. ‘I prefer not to think about him until I have to. Now, you’re going to miss out on lunch if you don’t get moving.’
He hopped out of the car too, and strode around to the back where she had begun to sort out the tangle of snorkels and flippers. ‘There’s something I should explain.’
‘What’s that?’
His eyes rested her. Her beauty was as fresh and natural, as untouched as the island itself. Tell her, an inner voice urged and he drew in a breath, ready to confess. ‘There’s something I should tell you…something I should get off my chest about why I’m here on the island.’
Meg stopped counting flippers and looked up abruptly to frown at him. ‘Now you really have me intrigued.’ She touched his wrist lightly. ‘You’ll have to explain…Heavens! I’ve been rattling on to you and I can’t even remember your name. What did you say your name was again?’
‘Sam.’
‘OK, Sam.’ Her grey eyes looked directly into his. ‘Get it off your chest.’
Her gaze suddenly locked with his and, just as he had earlier, Sam felt another startling sense of connection zap between them.
Her warm hand was still lying on his wrist.
Neither of them moved.
Chemistry could play sneaky tricks on a guy. Sam would have liked to feel more in control of this situation. Getting to know a woman was usually a pleasant game where he called all the shots. Many considered him to be an expert.
But right now, he had no idea where he was heading.
Especially when, out of absolutely nowhere, the unmistakable idea of kissing hovered between them in the dappled sunlight.
As if prompted by a magnetic force, he dipped his head towards Meg ever so slightly and, to his surprise, she didn’t pull back. When he leaned lower, she raised her face a breathless fraction higher.
Their mouths met.
It was a hello kind of kiss. More than friendly, but not exactly the exchange of lovers. Apart from their mouths and her hand on his, they weren’t touching. He smiled down at her and she smiled back and he felt the warmth and softness of her linger on his lips and the blood rush through his pulse points.
Meg was looking at him in dazed alarm as if she was as startled as he was. Then she jumped back, glaring at him and she said shakily, ‘I make it a rule never to kiss guests.’
The flustered, breathless way she spoke sounded so sexy Sam stepped back too, in case he gave in to any more urges. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’
She grabbed a pile of flippers, as if she needed an armful of rubber to keep him at bay. ‘You said you wanted to tell me something important about why you’re here,’ she reminded him sharply. ‘What sort of work did you say you did?’
‘Er—don’t worry about my job. It’s boring,’ Sam replied hastily. ‘But my hobby is marine science. I haven’t studied it in depth, but I’d love to learn more about the life on the reef, underwater photography, salt-water aquariums—that sort of thing. We could make a great team. You could be my tutor.’
‘Bad idea.’ She scowled. And then, like a mother scolding a little boy, she added, ‘I suggest you go take a shower and have some lunch.’
She looked so mad that any thought of confessing his identity seemed ridiculous now. But it also seemed important to set things straight with Meg. For some inexplicable reason, Sam really cared what she thought of him.
A flipper dropped from the pile she was clutching and landed at his feet. He picked it up and held it for a moment, his fingers flexing the rubber. ‘Meg, what I meant to tell you was that this VIP you mentioned…’
He could sense her wariness, as if she’d pulled it on like protective armour. From beneath ash-blonde curls streaked with gold, her grey gaze darkened to a stormy charcoal. ‘Don’t tell me it’s you,’ she whispered.
‘Yeah, ‘fraid so.’
A red flush flared in her cheeks and he couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or just plain mad at him.
‘I’m sorry. I meant to tell you earlier.’
‘No one was stopping you,’ she snapped.
‘Maybe not, but I didn’t see why I should give you a perfect reason to hate me.’
‘Yes, but—’ Meg gulped.
‘And you handed me an excellent opportunity to check out the lie of the land. I don’t intend to just waltz in to your boss ready to dance to his tune. After all, there’s a lot at stake.’
‘A lot of money.’
‘More than just money. It’s complicated.’ He took a step closer and offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘But I have an even better excuse.’
Meg didn’t smile back. She continued to stand stiffly to attention with her arms tightly wrapped around the flippers.
‘I really appreciated being able to see the reef just the way I did this morning—just like an ordinary tourist. I had a great time. Thank you. From what you’ve said, the media will be hanging around tomorrow. Things will be different.’ He smiled again.
But it seemed the effort was wasted.
Meg’s chin lifted and she eyed him with a haughty glare. ‘Things will be very different,’ she said. ‘For starters, you won’t even think about trying to kiss me.’
He tucked the flipper into the bundle she was holding. ‘In that case, I’m sure neither of us will look forward to tomorrow.’
Ignoring her startled gasp, he turned in the direction of his bungalow. And, as he walked away, Sam reflected that he’d been wise not to add a comment about just how slim Meg’s chances were if she expected to control his thoughts.
Especially his thoughts about kissing her again.
CHAPTER TWO
AS SOON as she woke the next morning, Meg knew it was going to be a bad day. Her first clue was the way her mind flashed straight to Sam Kirby—exactly where she didn’t want it to be. He’d taken up far too much space in her head all night.
Not even the rainbow lorrikeets that came to her kitchen window for their breakfast treat could lift her spirits. She watched the amazing birds peck daintily at tiny pieces of bread and honey. But this morning their bright purple heads, lime-green wings, and bright yellow chests, brush-stroked with scarlet, didn’t fill her with admiration as they usually did. She was too busy feeling angry.
The cheek of the man—hiding his identity, encouraging her to talk about the bottle and then stealing that kiss—all in such a short space of time!
If ever a man spelled danger for Meg, Sam Kirby did. He was a super-rich big businessman and an international resort guest—he summed up everything she went out of her way to avoid. So how on earth had she stood there like a ninny and let him kiss her?
And the worst part was, it had been such a nice kiss.
Despite her anger, she’d found herself thinking about it over and over as she’d drifted off to sleep. Again and again, she’d remembered the warm, sensual pressure of his slightly open lips on hers. Then there was the impact of those deep blue eyes up close. They had been breathtaking. They’d made her think about…finding somewhere private…somewhere beneath whispering palm trees…or in the shallows on a secluded sandy beach…somewhere…anywhere