Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong Read Free Page A

Keeling was not going to undo the wonder and beauty of her safe haven for ever. It was the disturbance. It had thrown her normal rhythm.
    She watched him soak up the view, his hands on his hips, body not quite relaxed. For a man who looked as if he was born in the surf, he didn’t seem particularly comfortable standing in front of one of the most beautiful beaches on the planet.
    What’s he waiting for—a bellhop?
    Her lips tightened. ‘Well, come on in.’
    He swung around and moved out of the deep shade into the dappled light of her campsite, sliding his sunglasses up onto his damp dark hair. Honor’s heart tripped over itself, and she glanced away lest she be caught staring.
    His eyes were the same vivid blue as her view.
    She scurried towards her tent, willing the heart that had lurched into a frantic flutter to settle. Had everything shrunk the moment he stepped into camp? She grabbed a long-sleeved cotton shirt and hastily slipped it on over her swimsuit.
    ‘Eight months …’ she heard him mutter.
    Her chin lifted. ‘How long do you think it will take you to make repairs?’ The question was ruder than she’d intended. It practically screamed,
Get off my island!
    He didn’t miss the tone; his lips thinned and those amazing eyes darkened. ‘No idea. I’ll have to assess the damage.’
    ‘What can I do to help?’ She’d meant it to be conciliatory.
    ‘In a hurry to have me gone, Honor?’
    Shame bit as those all-knowing eyes saw exactly which way her mind was going. ‘No. It’s just … I’m not set up for visitors.’ It was true, yet not entirely the truth.
    ‘I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.’ His nostrils flared briefly.
    Robert Dalton had a decent poker face, an admirable life skill. The aggravated pulse high in his jaw was the only other sign that she’d ticked him off. Her own face was an open book.
    ‘It’s okay.’ She reached for her trusty logbook. ‘I have work to do, anyway. Make yourself at home.’
    It half killed her to say it.
    His smile couldn’t have been less genuine. Was it so unthinkable that a person could feel at home in her little base? Even a person whose sunglasses probably cost more than her whole camp set-up? Not waiting for his answer, she snatched up her binoculars and marched towards the trees.
    Rob watched her go and then looked around again. Making himself at home felt plain wrong. This camp, with its sweet little homely touches, was so private and feminine. He felt every bit the intruder. He sighed andheaded back to the beach, peeling his adhesive T-shirt from his body as he went and looking around for a sun-bleached bush to drape it on. He turned back out to the horizon and waded into the water, heading for the boat that he’d bought with the first money he’d ever earned himself.
    Minutes later, under the full glare of the equatorial sun, he yanked his dive mask down harder than necessary and snapped it into place, then readied himself on the edge of
The Player.
    What’s her problem, anyway?
His just being here obviously irritated the heck out of her. Everything he did she took exception to and he’d been here all of one hour. That had to be some kind of record. Not that she’d been entirely rude. She’d been a sport about hauling all his gear onshore, and she’d tried to make nice towards the end.
    Although it obviously didn’t come as second nature to her.
    Rob smiled. Honor Brier certainly was different to the women he knew. They liked having him around, they even sought him out. Actively. He wasn’t used to feeling plain unwelcome or to a woman being so … transparent and open. Honor had no interest in playing up to him or in putting on an act. She wanted him gone and was being perfectly upfront about it. It made a refreshing change from the gratuitous fawning he endured back home. Not to say it didn’t sting a bit, this feeling of not being quite good enough. But it was undeniably honest.
    And unexpectedly welcome.
    Robert Dalton