Save the Last Dance (15 page)

Clunk.

It happened again. Their gazes snagged like Velcro.

He'd been watching her, watching her reaction to her first taste of sweet young coconut. He'd just had some himself, yet he looked like a starving man.

She swallowed, even though her spoon and her mouth remained empty.

She hadn't been imagining it. Not one bit. And that knowledge flipped everything on its head, because now she wasn't longing for the impossible any more. A door of opportunity had been opened for her.

But was she stupid enough—and brave enough—to walk through it?

CHAPTER NINE

A
LLEGRA
 
did nothing. At least, she
said
nothing. Maybe that meant she was still a coward, that all that shouting and screaming and
letting it all
 
out
on the hilltop had been nothing more than a good way to make her tonsils sore. She couldn't seem to bring any of that liberty to her tongue now, as she worked and ate and slept next to Finn.

Only two more nights. Time was running out now.

She was at the far end of the beach, on a food gathering task Finn had set for her. It was safe enough now to turn and look. She could see his khaki shape moving around near their shelter.

She sighed and turned back to the ocean.
Bring back something edible,
Finn had said. Allegra had avoided the crabs that scuttled near the rock pools—not much chance of getting them back to camp with all her digits intact. She'd also spotted a conch shell further along in the shallows, but it was probably empty. She'd already gathered some squashy, succulent leaves of sea purslane, but she decided to check the shell out anyway.

She placed the tropical salad she'd gathered onto the wet sand before wading into the shallows to inspect the conch. It was horrendously heavy, which gave her hope, but when she upended it she discovered a shiny pink interior. Premises vacated. Just a pretty shell with nothing inside.

Like her, really. Big on appearances, not so hot on the following through.

She'd had all these great plans of how she was going to tell Finn she was attracted to him, and they had all come to nothing. She'd rehearsed a hundred speeches—from flirty and cheeky to deep and meaningful—fully intending to deliver them, but when an opportunity came, she clammed up and the moment passed.

She really was a mute little mermaid, wasn't she? And had just as much luck with the men.

She dropped the shell back into the water and waded back to shore, where she gathered up the purslane and headed back to camp to show Finn her find.

‘Great,' he said, only half looking up from the fire. ‘Want to help me prepare the meal?'

She nodded, and they worked side by side in silence, passing tools, taking turns to check the fish roasting there on a stick.

Must be really riveting TV, she thought, as she bit into some sea purslane and savoured its saltiness. The crew had been fidgety for a day or so now. Probably because she and Finn had tacitly settled into a rhythm with each other. They worked as a team, saying only what needed to be said to get the jobs done. All the other words were kept under lock and key.

And, even though the cameras and microphones were high-tech and very sensitive, Allegra was glad they hadn't yet invented a recording device that could capture what was humming between her and Finn. They didn't even have to look at each other now to feel it. It was there from the moment they opened their eyes in the morning until their brains succumbed to unconsciousness at night. And probably in between.

Not just a physical awareness—it had gone long past that—but a sense of completeness, a profound sense of connection. And she knew she wasn't alone in feeling it. At least, her mermaid brain told her she wasn't alone, and she was inclined to believe it.

For the first time in her life, Allegra felt as if she'd not only met someone's expectations, but exceeded them. And it was sweetness to her soul.

The air was oppressive. Every molecule seemed to be humming. Even under the canopy of dense vegetation in the island's interior, Finn didn't need to look up to know that clouds had blocked out the sun.

‘We need to get a move on,' he yelled over his shoulder. A rumble of thunder out at sea backed him up.

The crew fell silent and picked up speed. Simon called for the speedboat on his satellite phone. It would have been another fifteen minutes before they'd be back on the beach, and if this storm was as bad as the last one, the crew needed to make a quick escape. The rain could last for hours and they were too close to sunset to wait it out. And there was no way all five of them would squish into his and Allegra's tiny shelter. If the crew stayed, someone was going to get wet—and that someone would probably be him.

Thankfully, although the charge in the air increased, those rumbles remained distant, for now at least.

When they finally reached the camp the pace became even more frantic as Tim, Dave, Barry and Simon ran around gathering up kit. He and Allegra, meanwhile, started hauling their stack of firewood towards the shelter. They shoved as much as they could underneath the raised sleeping platform to keep it dry. The crew helped them until the boat turned up and then they waved a hasty goodbye and disappeared round the headland in their tiny white boat.

Just in time, it seemed, because a few minutes later it began to rain.

Allegra didn't need to be told to jump into the shelter. Neither did he.

But once inside he encountered a bit of a problem.

While they'd been preparing for the rain, he'd been fine. He'd kept himself busy, had fallen back on his training. Training that was the culmination of generations of experience, passed down from ancestor to ancestor. Finn was proud to be a modern-day keeper of this diminishing knowledge. It made him feel not just connected to nature but connected to the past, connected to humanity.

But now, as the rain began to fall, he had nothing left to do but sit it out. No job to distract him. And when it came to coping with what he was starting to feel for the woman he was sharing a tiny bamboo and palm leaf shelter with, he had no knowledge base, no ancient wisdom to fall back on. In this situation he was totally on his own.

Help.

Uncharted territory. Not something he was normally afraid of. But there was always a first time for everything.

The wind picked up, ruffling the frilly green thatching on the shelter roof. Another rumble. Longer this time. Closer.

He and Allegra stopped looking out at the grey sky and the dirty blue sea and looked at each other instead.

There
was connection. Looking back at him with bright blue eyes.

Not connection to ancient wisdom, or long-dead people. No, connection to a living, breathing person, who was mere inches away from him.

He always told his survival students that if they were ever stuck in a jungle they shouldn't be tempted to stay any longer than necessary.
Get out,
he told them.
And get out fast.
It was what he wanted to do right now.

Run, a voice in his head was telling him. Run as fast as you can. Don't stop. Don't even look back. This is not a place to get entangled or put down roots. It's dangerous terrain, remember? That was why he'd mentally fenced it off and declared it ‘out of bounds' years ago.

Seemed as though he was lost, though. Or stuck in quicksand. Because he couldn't even look away, let alone move his legs.

He held his breath, waiting for a lightning bolt that was long overdue, yet still refused to come.

The storm seemed to have stolen their voices. Neither of them had uttered a word to each other since the crew had left. But words weren't really needed. They would only say what they were
supposed
to say, skirt around the thing staring them both in the face. The communication going on between them now was much more honest.

She was just as lost as he was. Just as stuck. He saw it in her eyes. Saw the questions flit across them, saw the answers he'd given, without realising, register and hit home.

And suddenly he didn't want to run any more. If he was lost, he didn't want to be found. He wanted to turn around, peer inside those forbidden boundaries and see what was inside.

That was when it happened—when the searing flash of light split the sky and made the air tremble. In that second, when his eyes were dancing with colour and the audible release of power was still echoing in his ears, Finn took his first step.

They were kneeling opposite each other and, slowly, he leaned forward and reached for her with one hand. He didn't drag her to him instantly, but traced her jaw with his thumb, her long neck with his fingers. Warmth upon warmth. Skin upon skin. Her pulse rapid beneath his palm.

No mad skydive into the unknown this time for Finn McLeod. He was taking his time, feeling his way. Savouring every sensation.

Allegra hadn't blinked since he'd touched her, but now her lids slid closed and her head tipped back.

Finn found the soft skin between collarbone and chin with his lips, not really sure how he'd moved closer. He didn't care, didn't stop to analyse how or why. He was too lost in tasting her, exploring her, working ever so slowly upwards, feeling her melt against him further with each kiss.

She grabbed onto him for support, sinking her long fingers into his unruly hair, holding him prisoner, making it impossible for him to pull away. But he didn't feel trapped. It only increased the heat building inside of him.

And when his mouth neared the end of its upward climb and crested the curve of her jaw they both paused. His hands were either side of her head, hers on his neck and shoulder. For a few seconds they hovered there, eyes closed, breathing shallow and ragged, lips only millimetres apart.

Finn had always wondered if a daring leap or a foolish stunt would eventually be his undoing. How ironic that, in the end, it turned out to be the tiniest of movements, the sweetest and softest of kisses that sealed his fate.

Every cell in Allegra's body seemed to be singing, bursting with life and joy.

It was better than she'd imagined. Way better than the tightly wrapped girlish fantasies: big on longing, a little fuzzy on detail. Finn brought that wildness, that dizzying sense of rawness to his kisses.

Oh, it had started off soft and light, but it hadn't stayed that way for long. Quickly, the overwhelming force between them had dragged them down and pulled them under. So completely lost in the moment was she that she couldn't even form a coherent thought. She couldn't remember where his lips had been last or guess where his fingers might touch next. Finally, she'd reached that place where instinct reigned and, boy, was there spark to go with it.

She shivered, and she wasn't sure if it was in response to the drop in air temperature caused by the storm or a reaction to Finn's lips on hers, his tongue gently sending her over the edge. Finn felt her body shudder, too, and his arms came round her to steady her, then slowly, slowly he pulled away.

Even kneeling he was so much taller than her and she tipped her head to look up at him as he smoothed her hair out of her face and looked deep into her eyes.

She couldn't help it—she smiled. Beamed at him.

Finn smiled back, but it wasn't his usual ready-for-anything grin, and Allegra knew she was seeing that part of him he rarely revealed to others. She saw it all—the little boy who'd been uprooted so many times, yet had still worked out a way to survive, the teenager who had substituted the glory of nature and adrenalin rushes for more tricky human relationships. And she loved everything she saw. It only bound her to him more deeply.

Tread gently. Softly.

Something told her in this, despite her own inexperience, she would need to be his guide, his teacher. If he'd let her.

She reached up and touched her lips to his. Told him so without words.

He responded by pulling her against him, holding her there with a fierce protectiveness. If only, she thought. If only he'd always want to keep me like this, close to him, safe by his side. She felt she could do anything, conquer every challenge if he were beside her.

Lightning flashed again, followed a few seconds later by growling thunder. Loud still, but the storm was passing by quickly. In unison, they glanced outside. A flash of metallic silver in one of the trees opposite made them both pause.

Oh, no. She'd totally forgotten about the non-native technology hidden in the foliage. Had it been dark enough for the night vision camera to capture what had just been going on? Euphoria gave way to panic.

She looked at Finn and found him eyeing the camera suspiciously, too.

She shivered. They'd been away from the camp for quite some time this afternoon and the fire had just been glowing embers when they'd got back. No chance of starting one in this downpour. Not until the rain stopped and they could use the wood that they'd stacked under their shelter.