The Honeymoon Arrangement (6 page)

Patch bounded across the sand and immediately pulled her into his arms, warm and strong. She buried her head in his neck, sucked in the smell of him and felt her tilting world settle down. Patch ran a hand over her hair before kissing her temple and stepping away from her to sit on the wall next to her.

‘Seb told you, huh?’

‘Yeah.’ She suddenly remembered that her mother had been his wife and wondered how
he
was handling the news. ‘How do you feel about her returning?’

Patch shrugged. ‘Doesn’t mean much to me except for how it affects you and Seb.’

Callie sank her bare feet into the warm sand and wiggled her toes. She bit the side of her lip and stared out to sea. ‘I’m running away …’

Patch cocked his head. ‘You are? Where to?’

‘Well, it’s not quite settled, but there’s this guy and he needs a—a friend to go on a trip with him.’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘He seems nice, and he’s just gone through a rough time, and we seem to like each other …’ Callie waved her hands in the air. ‘Not as … you know … but I think we could be friends … He needs a friend.’

‘Most of us do,’ Patch agreed. ‘And you want to avoid seeing Laura.’

Callie waited a beat before turning anxious eyes to his face. ‘Am I wrong? Should I be meeting her?’

Patch ran his hand over his jaw. ‘Honey, for the last ten years, ever since you totalled your car at a thousand miles an hour, I have trusted you to do the right thing—not for me but for yourself. I still trust you to do that.’ He reached for her hand and held it. ‘That thing we call intuition? That little voice? It’s your soul talking. You can trust it.’

‘My intuition is telling me to go on this trip with Finn.’

‘Then do it,’ Patch said, before frowning. ‘Wait—is this Rowan’s client? The travel writer?’

‘Mmm.’

Patch smiled broadly. ‘Tell him to come kayaking with me—maybe he’ll do an article on the tours.’

Callie had to smile. Her dad was her rock, but he was never shy about putting himself forward. Ah, well, she thought as she sat with him in the morning sun, you don’t get apples from orange trees.

Callie buzzed Finn through the gates of her complex in Camps Bay and walked onto the wide veranda that encompassed most of her second-storey luxury flat. She leaned her arms on the railing, watching as he steered his expensive SUV into her visitor’s parking space. He left his vehicle and Callie watched as he stretched, his T-shirt riding up his abdomen to reveal a ridged stomach that had to be an eight or ten-pack and the hint of make-women-stupid obliques.

She did appreciate a fine-looking man, Callie thought, and they didn’t come much finer than Finn Banning. Sexy, and also very successful She’d researched him and read that he had been an award-winning investigative journalist before switching to travel journalism, where he was raking in the praise.

What had really gone wrong with his engagement? Why had they called it off? Why would any woman walk away from that?

Maybe there was something about Finn Banning that she didn’t know yet—and that worried her. Especially if she was considering spending three weeks in his company.

After she’d called him from Awelfor she’d spent ten minutes convincing him that she wasn’t joking about being his ‘wife’ and avoiding his probing questions around why
she’d changed her mind. She’d ended the conversation with the suggestion that if he still thought that taking her along was a good idea he should pop by for a drink at sunset.

And here he was—still hot, still sexy, still sad and still, apparently, wifeless.

He was her get-out-of-the-country card. Okay, the truth was that she didn’t need him to go anywhere—she had enough cash at her disposal to go anywhere she wanted. But since she was taking a month’s holiday at very short notice wherever she went she would be going alone. Normally she wouldn’t mind being alone, but at the moment she needed a distraction from her thoughts—from thinking about Laura.

She’d thought she’d buried those feelings of betrayal and abandonment but apparently it only took the knowledge that Laura was heading home to pull them all back up to the surface.

If she went anywhere alone she’d think and wallow and feel sad and miserable. But if she went with Finn she’d have a sexy man to distract her; she’d have to be happy and flirty and … well,
herself
.

She could shove all thoughts of Laura back into the box they’d escaped from.

Finn pulled off his sporty sunglasses and held them in his hand as he looked around the complex, eventually seeing her number on the front wall. He rubbed the back of his neck as he stopped a couple of feet from her door—a gesture that told Callie he wasn’t totally comfortable with this idea and was thinking of backing out.

‘Finn … hi.’ She leaned over the balcony to look down at him, not aware that she was giving him a super-excellent view of her hot pink lace-covered breasts. ‘The door is open. Come on up the stairs and hang a left. It’s too gorgeous an evening to be inside.’

Finn nodded and walked through the front door. She
heard the thud of the door closing behind him, and his rapid footsteps told her that he was jogging up the stairs. Through the wooden patio doors she saw him entering her lounge, looking around at the eclectic furniture and her wild, colourful abstract art. He dropped his glasses, mobile and keys on her coffee table and looked at her across the room.

His eyes caught hers and a small smile played on his lips. ‘Hello, possible fake wife.’

Callie laughed, immediately at ease. What was it about him that instantly had her relaxing? She felt she’d known him a lot longer than she had.

She watched as Finn stopped, as everyone always did, at the wall of photo frames. She watched his eyes skim over the photographs, quickly taking in her history—her journey from being a daredevil kid to a daredevil teenager to who she was today, whoever
that
was.

Finn spent more time than people usually did staring at the photos, eventually turning to look at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘You’re up a tree.’

‘I frequently was.’

He pointed to a frame. ‘You look like you’re about forty feet up.’

She grinned. ‘Forty-two feet—my dad measured it after his heart restarted.’ She shrugged and waved her wine glass around. ‘They told me not to climb it, so I did.’

‘How old were you?’

‘Five? Six? Somewhere around there.’

‘You must have been a handful.’

‘You have no idea. I thought I was indestructible. I had zero sense of self-preservation and was willing to try anything once—or four times. And if my brother was giving something a whirl—well, I would too. Surfing, diving, climbing, skateboarding, cycling …’

‘And I thought
I
was a hellraiser. Your mum must have pulled her hair out,’ Finn said, walking towards her.

Callie swallowed and looked away. Her mum had let her run wild—not particularly worried that Callie might crack her head open or break a limb. She would just shake her head before disappearing into her bedroom and locking the door behind her.

Then one day, a couple of weeks after her seventh birthday, she’d disappeared for ever.

Finn stepped out onto the veranda, gratefully taking the beer she held out to him. She dropped into the corner of her fat couch and tucked her bare feet up and under her bottom, gesturing to Finn to take a seat. When he’d sat down in the chair next to her he looked out at the sea view and the dropping sun and sighed.

‘Nice place. How long have you lived here?’

‘I bought it about five years ago. I love it, but I’m seldom home,’ Callie explained, picking up her wine glass and taking a sip. She turned and looked at his profile, strong in the fading light of the day.

‘So what’s happened that you’re suddenly available to come travelling?’ Finn asked. ‘And why are your eyes red-rimmed and puffy?’

Damn, that cosmetics rep had
so
lied. The eye cream that had cost the equivalent of a small house did
not
suck away the bags of fluid left there by a massive crying jag.

Callie couldn’t meet his eyes. Mostly because she felt her own prickling with tears again and she never cried in company—especially not around sexy, fit men. ‘It’s not important.’

Finn shook his head. ‘I suspect it’s very damn important to you.’ Then he lifted one broad shoulder. ‘But, since I hate people prying, I’ll leave you with your secrets.’

Thank you
, she thought sarcastically, a little put out that he hadn’t pushed. Did that mean that she actually
wanted
to tell him her sad tale of maternal neglect?
Blergh
—she didn’t do sob stories. Especially her own.

Callie pulled herself out of her funk and tilted her head. ‘So, it turns out that I can be free for the next four weeks or so. Do you want to explain your crazy proposal to me again?’

Finn stretched out his long legs, which ended in a pair of battered trainers. ‘As I explained, I landed an assignment to write an article on upmarket lodges, focusing on the honeymoon aspect of said lodges. The magazine is Europe-based, a leader in its field, it has a huge readership and it’s a plum assignment.’

‘Of course it is.’

Finn was hot property—he wouldn’t be writing for just any old magazine.

‘With the wedding imploding I either have to give up the assignment or find someone to go with me.’

‘As your wife?’

‘As my editor said, nobody is going to ask for proof of my marriage. If I take someone who looks reasonably happy to be there with me I think I can get by without having to explain that the wedding was called off two weeks before the big day,’ Finn said, his voice even but his expression pensive. ‘I really don’t want to give up the opportunity to get my foot in the door with
Go Travel
; they have a bunch of staff writers and rarely issue assignments to freelancers.’

But they did to you
.

As she’d thought: hot property, indeed. And not just as a writer. The man had a body that you could strike tinder off.

Callie resisted the urge to fan her face with her hand as a bead of sweat trickled down her spine. Yes, it was summer in Cape Town, but her hot flush had nothing to do with the evening heat and everything to do with imagining him naked above her, his fabulous eyes locked on
hers as he pushed himself home. She’d be tight and he’d be big, and he’d reach that special spot deep inside and rock her to screaming …

‘Callie?’

Finn’s voice pulled her out of her side trip into fantasy land and she waved a hand in front of her face, knowing that her cheeks were fire-red. ‘Wow, it’s so hot out here.’

‘Actually, a cool breeze has picked up and the temperature has dropped a couple of degrees,’ Finn countered, sending her a knowing smile. At least she thought it was knowing—for all she knew he could be thinking that she was loopy.

She fumbled for her wine and downed half a glass before resting it on her cheek.

‘You okay?’

Just peachy, trying to deal with the fact that you are the first man I can imagine sleeping with for far too long
.

‘Fine.’

Liar, liar, womb on fire…
.

‘Anyway, back to your trip. When are you supposed to arrive at your first destination? Where
is
the first destination?’

‘The Baobab and Buffalo Lodge, which is on a private concession next to the Kruger National Park. We’re booked in for a few nights.’

Holy fishcakes—when they said ‘upmarket’ they meant
upmarket
. Callie knew that the Baobab and Buffalo Lodge was booked solidly for years at a time. It was a six-star safari experience all the way.

Callie leaned forward, her eyes uncharacteristically serious. ‘Cards on the table, Finn. What exactly does it entail? What do you expect from me?’

A ghost of a smile flitted over Finn’s face. ‘All it entails is you hanging out at expensive lodges and hotels, taking part in some of the activities, eating yourself into
a coma and drinking yourself under the table. All on my expense account.’

‘And the cons?’

‘You have to do all of that with me.’ Finn placed his ankle on his knee and picked at the label of his beer bottle. ‘I’d like someone I can talk to—someone I could have fun with … someone who I know is not going to go all hearts and flowers on me, thinking that this will be the start of something special. I am in no way, shape or form looking to extend this beyond the holiday, nor looking for anything more than a friendship.’

Okay, she could understand that. Everybody needed time to regroup after a break-up, and of course he didn’t want to get involved. And she was perfect for that as she didn’t go hearts and flowers on any man, ever. And she was fun.

Well, she hadn’t been fun for a while, but that was going to change. She’d pull herself out of her funk and go back to being the old, crazy, happy, party-like Callie.

She needed to be that Callie again.

Callie cocked her head. Time to pull out the big guns. ‘And this
fun
. Where does it stop? In other words, are you expecting sex out of this deal?’

Finn’s light eyes bumped into hers. ‘It would be a nice side benefit but not a deal-breaker.’

Callie heard the honesty in his words and tone but thought she should just make sure. ‘So I could still go with you and not be pressurised into having sex with you?’

Honesty had her silently admitting that she probably would—old Callie wouldn’t have hesitated!—but she’d prefer to have it out in the open.

‘Making me repeat it in another way isn’t going to make my words more true. But if it makes you happy …’ Finn lifted that broad shoulder again. ‘Sex—if it happens—will
be a bonus, not an expectation. And totally without strings.’

Callie nibbled the inside of her lip, desperately trying to be sensible. She couldn’t believe that she was seriously considering his offer, but on the other hand how often did the opportunity to visit such wonderful places in luxury—for free!—fall into one’s lap?

How often did a person get the chance to do something so different on someone else’s dime? That would be
never
. She’d be a fool to pass this up.