From Paradise...to Pregnant!. Kandy Shepherd
could say that.’
‘Yet she gave you a home?’
‘Reluctantly. She couldn’t even bear to look at me. I look like my dad, you see. A constant reminder of what she had lost. But she felt she had to do the right thing by her granddaughter.’ In spite of herself a note of bitterness crept into her voice. ‘After all, what would her golfing friends have thought?’
‘Did you have any other family you could have gone to?’
‘My mother’s brother, whom I love to pieces. But as he has a propensity to dress in frocks sometimes the courts didn’t approve of him as guardian to a minor.’
Mitch laughed. ‘The lawyers must have had fun with that one.’ He sobered. ‘No wonder you were so miserable back then.’
The rejection by her grandmother had hurt. There had been no shared grief. No comfort. Just blame and bitterness. ‘I did something about it, though,’ she said.
‘What could a kid of seventeen have done?’
‘My new best friend at school—who incidentally is still my best friend—had a mother who was a top lawyer. She helped me get legal emancipation from my grandmother. There was compensation and insurance money from the accident that got signed over to me. I was able to support myself.’
He whistled. ‘That was a tough thing to do. Brave too.’
She shrugged. ‘My new life started then.’
‘You had worse things going on than a teenage me ranting at you...’
She met his gaze. ‘What happened with you hurt me. I won’t deny it. I...I valued our friendship. It was a beacon in the darkness of those days.’
Mitch swore low and fluently.
She waited for him to finish. ‘It’s history now. I appreciate your apology. And I don’t want to hear one more word about it.’
‘Just a few more words,’ he said, with that engaging grin.
‘I can’t imagine what more there is to be said,’ she said, her lips twitching into a smile in response. ‘But okay. Your final words. Fire away.’
‘I was sent to the principal to be punished for my plagiarism. She was new that year and didn’t know me. When I explained she listened. Turns out I had a mild form of dyslexia that had never been diagnosed. I got help. My grades picked up. Not just in English, but all my subjects. I could have gone to university on my Higher School Certificate results if I hadn’t chosen to play soccer instead.’
‘Mitch, that’s wonderful news!’
Her instinct was to reach out and hug him. With every fibre of her being she resisted it. She could not trust herself to touch him.
But while she thought touching was not on the agenda, Mitch obviously thought otherwise. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘I have a lot to thank you for, Zoe,’ he said.
His hand was warm and firm on her bare skin and she had to force herself not to tremble with the pleasure of it.
She had to clear her throat before she could reply. ‘Not me. The principal. Yourself. That’s who you should thank.’
He let his hand drop from her shoulder and she felt immediately bereft of his touch. That attraction she’d felt for him at seventeen was still there, simmering below the surface.
‘I’m determined to thank you, whether you acknowledge your role in the outcome or not,’ he said. ‘The least I can do is buy you dinner.’ He looked at his watch. ‘An early dinner?’
That threw her. She’d assumed once they’d sorted out the problems of the past he’d be on his way. ‘Here? Now?’
‘I don’t think it would be a good idea to go into Seminyak so soon after the quake. Too dangerous.’
‘I...I was going to order room service,’ she blurted out.
‘I was going to suggest the hotel restaurant. But I might get recognised. And I don’t want anyone else intruding on our reunion celebration. Room service is a great idea. Your villa or mine?’
‘Uh... H-Here would be good,’ she stammered. Reunion celebration?
Had the earthquake knocked her off that massage table and she’d hit her head? Was she hallucinating? Or in some some kind of coma?
Her and Mitch Bailey, having dinner tête-à-tête in the seclusion of a luxurious private villa in Bali? Maybe she’d wake up and find herself back in the spa, sprawled amid the debris with a big fat headache.
But if it was a dream, or a long-ago fantasy come true, she was going to enjoy every second of being with Mitch. Who knew what tomorrow might bring?
She swung her legs off the side of the lounger. ‘I’ll go get the room service menu.’
MITCH RECLINED ON HIS lounger and watched Zoe as she walked into the living area. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her hips swayed enticingly under the body-hugging dress. Somehow he doubted that seductive sway was intentional. He’d seen enough of the type of woman who turned on the sex appeal with seduction in mind to know the difference.
No. Zoe had a natural, unconscious sensuality. The fact that she seemed unaware of it made her only more appealing. Zoe Summers. Who would have thought it?
He couldn’t get over the difference in her. It wasn’t that he’d found her unattractive as a teenager. There’d been something quirky and rebellious about her that he’d liked. But now...now she was sexy as hell. Sparky and feisty too. He was finding it fascinating to discover the woman she’d become. Was grateful to the twist of destiny that had flung them together.
She headed back towards the pool, waving a cardboard folder. ‘I had to hunt for it, but I’ve got the room service menu.’
Mitch swung his legs from the lounger so he sat on the edge. ‘Let’s take a look.’
‘It’s the same food as the restaurant. I’ve eaten there a few times. It’s good.’
Menu in hand, she hesitated near his lounger. He patted the seat next to him. Cautiously she sat down, being so careful to keep a distance between them that it made him smile. Again she tugged down her dress to cover her thighs. But that only meant the neckline of her dress slid down, revealing more than a tantalising glimpse of the swell of her breasts.
Surely he would have noticed if she’d had a body like that back at school?
‘What’s for dinner?’ he asked, shuffling a little closer to her until her scent filled his senses. ‘Any recommendations?’
‘I don’t know what you like,’ she said.
Of course she wouldn’t. Despite that briefly opened window on a shared past, he and Zoe were strangers.
‘What are you going to order?’ he asked.
‘Something not too spicy,’ she said. ‘The curries don’t agree with me.’
‘Bali belly, huh?’ he said. ‘Happens to the best of us. But you survived?’
Zoe pulled a face. ‘I’ll spare you the details,’ she said. ‘I seem to be over it now, but don’t want to risk a relapse.’ She handed over the menu. ‘I’m going to stick with the ayam bakar—I’ve had it before with no...uh...ill effects.’
Mitch read out the description of her chosen dish. ‘Organic chicken pieces marinated in a special blend of Indonesian spices, grilled, and served with a lemongrass salsa. Sounds good.’
‘It’s absolutely