sighed, leaned forward again, rested his elbows on his desk and gestured towards the chair opposite, inviting her to take a seat.
‘Why not? What’s the problem?’
She crossed to his desk and laid out the paperwork in front of him. ‘The main problem right now is that the reef won’t withstand an increase in boat traffic or sedimentation from the building work. There’s been extensive bleaching and it needs to be stabilised and then an ongoing regeneration plan put in place.’
He gritted his teeth. Ongoing. ‘Ongoing’ wasn’t a word he wanted to hear in the context of this development, and not from Meena of all people.
‘Anything else?’
‘There’s still no sign of hatchlings from the possible turtle nesting site. We need to wait out the incubation period and see what we’re dealing with before I could give the go-ahead.’
‘How much time are we looking at?’
‘A couple more wee—’
‘Unacceptable,’ he interrupted. ‘This needs to be wrapped up within a week maximum, Miss Bappoo. I can’t leave the island until they’re done, and I need to get back to Sydney.’
‘With all due respect, that isn’t for you to say,’ she replied, crossing her arms. ‘This will take as long as it takes. It’s not something you hurry. It’s not something you can hurry. This is my call.’
He looked at her, assessing. Was she doing this on purpose? he wondered. Because of their past? And then he had to remind himself that she didn’t even remember their past. She wasn’t angry with him. She didn’t feel anything for him. He envied her ignorance. He wished that he could see this as she undoubtedly did: a simple business matter with no personal feelings involved.
‘That’s not good enough,’ he stated, leaning back in his chair.
She mirrored him, implacable. He remembered that look and he knew that it meant that there was no changing her mind. ‘Unfortunately for you, your feelings on the matter aren’t a criterion in my report.’
He shook his head. A standoff wasn’t going to get them anywhere fast. Cooperation was the only way that he was going to get this project moving again. ‘Tell me what I can do to make this happen faster.’
He saw his more relaxed demeanour soften her. ‘You can stop asking questions like that for a start,’ Meena said. ‘Faster isn’t the aim here; environmental conservation is. I’m not letting this island come to harm because you want to throw your hotel up faster.’
‘I’m not throwing anything,’ he retorted. ‘And you say that like you think I want to cause harm. I don’t; that’s why you’re here.’
‘Good to know. I’ll note it in the report.’
He paused. ‘Meena, I...’
She was doing all this to protect the island. Their island. The tiny speck of sand and rock in the Indian Ocean. Could it be that she remembered it? That that was why she was being so fiercely protective of it? The thought warmed him somewhere deep but he shook off the feeling. That wasn’t what this was about. She didn’t remember him. She didn’t remember anything about who they had been to each other.
‘Look,’ Guy said. ‘I want this application to go through and I have no interest in doing any harm to Le Bijou,’ he lied. ‘Tell me what I need to do to make that happen.’
She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. ‘You really want to do this right?’
He nodded. ‘I really do.’
‘Then you need a marine biologist on your team once building starts. Someone to ensure you are considering environmental impacts at every stage. You need short-term and long-term sustainability plans, and someone to hold you to account.’
He gave an ironic smile. ‘You seem to be doing a pretty good job of that.’
‘For now.’ She smiled back. ‘But my job’s done when the reports are completed. This island needs a permanent guardian.’
‘You’re right. And you’re perfect for the job.’
As he said the words he knew that it was true. Much as he hated to admit it, she would be the perfect person to make sure that the island was protected through the building of the resort, and after. And once his new project manager started he would be gone and he wouldn’t have to see her again. If this was what it took to get the permits approved, he would do it. He could see from her face that she was surprised by the offer nonetheless.
‘I have a job,’ she said abruptly.
‘True.’ He shrugged. ‘But here’s the offer of another. Because you’re right. An in-house marine biologist should always have been a part of the plan. I think this offer shows how serious I am about getting these permits. Your report proves you know what you’re doing. And you love the island.’ He knew what love looked like on her. He had seen it before. He remembered lying on that beach, seeing her look at him and knowing—knowing—that she loved him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it then. He knew that he didn’t deserve it now.
Which was why it was such a spectacularly bad idea to offer her the job. He should be putting as much distance between them as he could right now. Not creating yet another bond.
It was fine, he reminded himself. As soon as he had a replacement project manager in place, he would be leaving this island and not coming back. In his headquarters in Sydney, he would have no more contact with Meena than with thousands of his other employees and contractors. She wouldn’t be his problem any more. Wouldn’t be in his life any more.
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she replied slowly, as if looking for the catch in his offer.
She could do a lot for Le Bijou as the resident marine biologist, Meena acknowledged, turning Guy’s job offer over in her mind. She had done a lot of good when she had worked at another resort before her accident, she reminded herself, educating holidaymakers and divers about the local area and how to dive without impacting the coral reefs. She had even started a programme of coral regeneration with newlyweds, planting out coral, something that would carry on growing long after the honeymoon was over.
She could do the same at Le Bijou, she thought, if she took up Guy’s job offer. She could stay on the island. Do her best for it. Protect it as best she could once the works were completed and the worst of the damage had been done.
Perhaps damage limitation was all she could do. Guy owned Le Bijou, and it was going to change. Her sanctuary. It just wouldn’t exist any more. Not in the way that she wanted—needed—it to.
But something made her hesitate before telling Guy that she wanted the job. Working with Guy, specifically, made her hesitate.
She’d thought a lot about men the last few years. A lot about specifically what sort of man would make her fall for him. She knew she wouldn’t have slept with someone she didn’t love. Last she remembered, she had been a virgin planning to wait until she was married, as was expected of her. And then she was waking from a coma, finding out that she had been pregnant, and the only clues she had to her mystery boyfriend were notes she’d found months after she had finally left the clinic, scribbled in French on the back of a dive planner.
I love you. I can’t wait to see you again. Meet me at our beach.
She had wondered ever since then who he could have been. Who her type was. What sort of man she had fallen in love with.
And now here was Guy and the strange sense of déjà vu she felt around him. It was probably just his accent, she thought. The twang of his Australian vowels that was so familiar from her scholarship year studying there. That was what was giving her this strange feeling,