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Island Redemption Page 16
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Cilla veered backwards and her hand gave a twitch as if to ward off an attack. She blinked and was again in control, the reaction shuttered behind hooded eyelids. But Tam had seen it. She was terrified. Most people didn’t like injections, but what he saw in her face wasn’t just an aversion to needles, it was naked fear. The knowledge hit Tam like a punch to the gut. What’d make her that afraid of a mere needle? A bad experience with a doctor? Whatever the cause, he knew it wasn’t just an insignificant once-off with a nurse who was too rough. Cilla was too capable, too strong-willed to be put off by a trifle like a syringe.
Instinct kicked in and with a grunt he levered himself off the sand and walked over to her.
‘Give me your hand,’ he said gently.
‘No.’ She practically bared her teeth at him. ‘I’m not one of your kids that needs their hand held because they have an ouch.’ He had to stifle a laugh. Even when she was thoroughly pissed off and terrified, she was still gorgeous.
‘Well unless you stop acting that way I’ll start to think you are. Now give me your hand. And lie down and stay still.’ He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gradually down onto the sheets. Then he captured both her hands in his and nodded to Helen. Cilla’s gaze swung between the two of them, eyes narrowed and brows drawn down, shooting daggers.
‘This’ll sting a little.’
‘I know, I’ve had a local before,’ she snapped. As Helen leant over her head to administer the injection, Cilla’s gaze locked onto Tam’s, filled once more with fire and outrage, flecks of amber dancing through the emerald green. Good, at least she was distracted from her fear by her reignited fury at him.
He knew the exact instant the needle went in. Her pupils dilated and her grip on his hands became like iron, but she didn’t break their stare, or utter a sound.
‘All done.’ Helen drew back and released a breath. ‘We’ll leave it for a few minutes until it gets nice and numb.’ Cilla closed her eyes, but it was a few seconds before she’d let go of his hands.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured.
Sorry for what, he wondered. For showing an ounce of vulnerability?
‘Not a problem. I love holding your hands.’ She levered herself up, but ignored his remark. They sat in silence, side by side, she with her chin on her knees. He silently wondered whether he could ask her about what’d just happened. She might tell him, but then again, she was more likely just to spit in his eye.
For a moment Tam allowed himself to remember the warmth of Cilla as she sheltered in his arms last night. In the dark and the wind, she’d let herself trust him. But in the cold light of day that trust was gone. Would it ever come back?
She was so still and quiet next to him.
‘You okay?’
‘Yep.’ He thought that was the only reply he was going to get, but then she said, ‘Why?’
‘You looked a little freaked out by the whole thing. I take it you aren’t good with doctors.’ A strange mixture of emotions fluttered across her face, but none of them made any sense. Resentment, desperation and finally shame. What’d happened to make her ashamed?
‘I don’t like needles, or doctors, or anything to do with hospitals. I had a … couple of bad experiences as a kid, that’s all.’ She wouldn’t look at him, instead staring out at the ocean. She looked so lost and alone. He wanted to put an arm around her slim shoulders and pull her in tight. Protect her from whatever demons were troubling her. He wanted to hold her until she confided it all to him, until she told him all her secrets. She was so tough and resilient on the outside, but he could feel there was some great internal injury she was hiding from the world. He was adept at reading people, it was part of what made him a good psychologist. He’d be able to help her, tease out those raw, damaging emotions and get her to accept them, even embrace them. If only she’d let him.
He wanted to help her.
The thought brought him up sharp. What was he thinking? He shouldn’t be getting involved. Why was he letting her get under his skin?
Because her green eyes haunted him when he slept. And he was fascinated by the way the corners of her mouth curled upwards, even before she served up that killer smile. He loved to watch her sinuous walk as she prowled down the beach searching for crabs. And he wanted to know what it’d be like to trap a fistful of that gorgeous auburn hair and drag her face up to his so he could kiss her until she could no longer breathe.
Am I falling for this woman?
No.
That was ridiculous. Okay, he’d admit she was beautiful and he was seriously attracted to her. That was all right, he was allowed to be enticed by women.
The problem was, he’d often find his gaze wandering to wherever she was in the camp, as if some internal compass was constantly pointing towards her. She had an aura, a presence that just couldn’t be ignored. But they’d only known each other for a few weeks, it was far too quick to be falling for anyone. Yes, they’d been thrown together into much closer quarters than most people would normally encounter. Forced to work and eat and sleep right next to each other.
And yet … honesty made him admit there was a connection between them. He’d felt that sharp tug of recognition on the very first day, when she’d stolen his machete. Should he explore that connection? Did he want to find out if she felt the same way?
He had a sense she’d run at the very first hint, if he ever tried to reveal his feelings. He knew she’d needed him last night, had trusted him enough to let herself feel safe and sheltered in his arms, if only for a few hours. But she’d probably deny everything if he ever pushed the matter.
And if she ever found out he’d spied on her naked she’d turn against him in an instant, of that much he was completely sure. She’d hate his duplicity in keeping the act a secret; view it as an ultimate betrayal. And why shouldn’t she; he knew he’d see it the exact same way if the tables were turned. He should’ve told her, but now it was too late. She wouldn’t welcome his advances and he’d be a fool to cultivate his feelings for her any further.
But still …
No, there was no attachment, it was just his imagination, that was all. Lust for a gorgeous woman mistaken for something more. He clamped his fists tightly into balls, determined to beat this mood. Love and trust were for fools. Julia had taught him that lesson well. He was here for the money, not to make friends. They’d only be on this island for another few weeks and then they’d go their own separate ways. Forever.
Helen’s shadow loomed over them, making him stiffen with surprise. ‘Let’s have a look, it should be numb enough by now.’ He stood up and put out a hand to help Cilla back to her feet. She declined, making her own way back to the temporary surgery Helen had set up in the shade of the coral tree. Bloody stubborn woman!
He helped Helen as she operated on Cilla’s forehead; handing her implements when she needed them. He also took up Cilla’s hand again, and surprisingly she didn’t argue this time. The anaesthetic had done its job, Cilla didn’t blanch even once as Helen put in fourteen stitches, but his hand was sore from the fierce grip she kept on his fingers the whole way through the procedure.
Watching her trying to ignore her fear he made a decision. He’d said he’d help her through this hard time and he’d stick to that promise. Once her head healed and there was no danger of infection he’d distance himself. It had to be done. If he wanted to win that million dollars he couldn’t let himself get sucked into her needs. It’d make him weak and vulnerable, both things he couldn’t afford on this island.
He needed to win that money. Money gave you power, protected you from the feelings of despair and ineptitude that poverty shackled you with. That money would save him.
Belatedly he remembered it would save the kids too. Help them break out of the cycle of deprivation in which they were trapped. He could relate to their fear and despair, he knew what it was like to not have enough.
Yes, he was ashamed of what he’d done, and although those days of being an underprivileged kid were long gone, he
still found it hard to banish the idea that with just one misstep he could end up down at the bottom of the heap again. He’d never admit it to another soul, but this million-dollar prize was his ticket to life-long security. The prize for being runner up was also enticing. Two hundred thousand dollars would go a long way, but no one ever really wanted to come in second. In Tam’s mind it was the million or nothing.
He couldn’t let this woman’s vulnerability get to him. If he did she might ruin all his plans.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sound of soft giggling filled the night air, blending with the hum of cicadas.
Cilla raised a bottle of beer to her lips and took a swig then passed it onto Hayden. She dug her toes deeper into the sand and revelled in the cool damp against her toes. A welcome relief to the claustrophobic humidity that still surrounded them, even this late at night. The sand tickled the soles of her feet and she couldn’t help but giggle as well.
She was a little drunk, but what did it matter. They all were. Alisha had uncovered the bottles of beer they’d not got round to drinking the other night because of the storm. Thankfully all the bottles had survived the shelter’s destruction. The members of Moonrakers decided to sit on the water’s edge and drink them, watching the night devour the stars, getting tipsy and telling bad jokes.
They were only now climbing back out of the funk of having to vote Jason off last night. The tension back at camp after the last conclave had been palpable. The remaining members of the old Nightrebels team had been sullen and wary, not talking much as they hiked back to camp. Even Marg hadn’t been her chipper self, remaining stubbornly silent most of the night. Only Simon was his normal loud, annoying character. Everyone liked Jason. And that was why he had to go.
It’d been Simon who’d instigated the vote. Cilla hated to agree with Simon on anything. But his determination that Jason should be the first person from the Moonrakers team to go was right on target. With Jason in the team, they all stood less of a chance at winning the million.
The celebration tonight was a release from the tension and regret of yesterday. It felt good not to be thinking about the game for a little while. Cilla took another swig of beer as it was passed back from Alisha.
Alisha laid her hand on Cilla’s arm and cast a quick glance in Tam’s direction before saying in quiet undertones, ‘He’s just worried about you.’
Cilla snorted in a most unladylike manner, knowing exactly where Alisha was going with this.
‘Yeah well, he needs to stop treating me like an invalid. He’s been hovering over me like a mother hen for the past few days. It’s driving me crazy.’
‘We all just want to make sure you’re okay,’ Alisha whispered. ‘How’s your head today, by the way?’
‘It probably looks worse than it feels.’ The truth was it constantly throbbed, and every time she bent over or shook her head it felt like the branch was gouging the gash on her skull all over again. But she’d never own up to the fact. Not in a million years was she going to give anyone the slightest excuse to see her as weak or vulnerable and vote her off.
Especially not in front of Tam. The man had been getting on her nerves with his constant ministrations. Just this morning he’d made her sit under the coral tree for half an hour while they all got breakfast ready, because he said, she was looking a little pale. She’d sat and stewed in her own thoughts, getting crosser and crosser by the second. And then he’d brought the bottle of antiseptic over and prodded and dabbed for what’d felt like hours until he was happy. The whole process had put her completely on edge. Not because he was hurting her, but because he was so damn close to her the whole time. To make matters worse, this morning he’d not even been wearing a shirt. Tam had knelt down next to where she was sitting and leaned in to inspect her head, affording her a perfect close-up view of his bare chest. She’d tried to stop breathing as he came in close. He smelled wonderful, salty from the ocean, musky and warm and … alive. It was intoxicating and erotic.
But what’d made her maddest was the fact he seemed to be enjoying the whole thing way too much. As he’d pulled away from her this morning, she was sure she caught the hint of a quixotic grin on his face.
Cilla grunted again and then conceded, ‘It was a little sore yesterday. But it’s much better today. Nothing for you to worry about. But thanks anyway, Mom!’
‘All right, all right, no need to get rude. I’m just looking out for you. Because God knows, you don’t seem to want to do it for yourself.’ Alisha bumped her well-cushioned hip into Cilla’s to lighten her words. ‘But you might want to thank Tam next time you’re talking to him.’
‘What for? Making me dread the smell of Iodine?’ Cilla laughed.
Alisha kept a straight face. ‘No, for keeping you in the game.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He doesn’t know this, but I overheard him arguing with JJ after the medic stitched you up. JJ still wasn’t convinced you’d be all right. He was going to get you medevac’d out whether you liked it or not. Tam persuaded him not to. He promised JJ he’d look after you, make sure you didn’t get sick.’
Cilla sighed. Dammit. Now she owed him again. Big time.
Hayden interrupted their quiet conversation as he said, ‘I’m off to bed, otherwise I’m going to have one sore head in the morning. I’ll leave you young ones to it.’
Tam snorted. ‘You’re not that much older than us.’
Hayden’s teeth gleamed pale in the starlight. ‘See you guys in the morning.’
Cilla heard the soft scrunch of his feet in the sand as he made his way back up to the shelter. That left only the four of them now. Tam, Marg, Alisha and herself. All the others had drifted off over the last hour to find the best spot in the shelter and let sleep claim them.
It’d been a good night. The two joined teams had bonded over the bottles of beer and gossip. There’d been lots of talk about home, the small details people missed and the loved ones who were waiting for them. All talk of strategy and the game had been forgotten, just for a short while.
‘I think I’m going to hit the hay too,’ said Marg, through a huge yawn.
Cilla leaned forward so she could look past Tam and directly at the other woman. ‘No, Marg. Stay with us,’ she pleaded. She’d been having so much fun. She was feeling mellow and happy and wanted this night to last a little longer.
‘Wait for me,’ said Alisha, also rising to her feet.
Cilla let out another disappointed noise, and Alisha replied, ‘I’m sure Tam will be only too happy to keep you company.’ Cilla didn’t miss the insinuation in her tone, but for once she was too relaxed by the alcohol to bridle at the suggestion.
‘Goodnight, Marg. Alisha,’ said Tam, his masculine voice breaking the fabric of the night. Cilla hadn’t noticed how profoundly deep his voice really was until that exact minute. There was an unfathomable gravelly quality to it that touched a chord inside her. And sent shivers of expectation down her spine.
Marg swayed a little on her feet as she stood up. ‘It really is so beautiful here, isn’t it? Slowly turning, she wended her way up the beach, followed by Alisha.
Tam and Cilla were alone.
Tam shuffled closer to her. Cilla could feel the thrill of expectation fizzing between the bare skin of their nearly-touching shoulders. A flush heated Cilla’s skin, making its way up from her chest and into her face. She was thankful for the cover of night hiding her pink cheeks.
Cilla risked a glance at Tam. He sat staring out to sea, his camaraderie at bidding Marg and Alisha goodnight had faded, replaced by a pensive gaze. The line of his shoulders sharpened and he didn’t return her gaze. Why this sudden shift in his mood?
‘Cilla, there’s something I need to tell you.’
Uh oh, that sounded serious. Whatever he had to say, she didn’t want to hear it. Not now. She didn’t want to ruin this perfect evening by talking about solemn matters. The sky was alight with billions of winking stars, the soft night air warm and encompass
ing. An easy breeze tickled her nose and the beer was giving her a warm buzzing sensation in her stomach. What was he so desperate to tell her? Whatever it was, she knew it might have to power to destroy her feelings of contentment.
‘I should’ve told you this days ago, but I didn’t want you to … think any less of me.’
Whoa, this conversation seemed to be headed for the profound area; one she wanted to steer clear of tonight.
With a squeak she stood up. ‘Let’s go for a swim.’ It was a crude but effective ploy.
Distraction.
‘Actually, let’s go for a skinny-dip.’ She started to strip off her clothes, leaving them lying in a pile on the sand. Now that had to be the liquor talking.
‘What the—’
She laughed out loud at the shock and surprise in his exclamation. She wasn’t adverse to swimming nude in the ocean with friends. She’d done it before. A tiny voice of reason was telling her skinny-dipping on this island with Tam was tantamount to idiocy. But the alcoholic haze made it easy to ignore. Just for tonight she was going to throw caution to the wind.
‘Come on, Tam. Are you a scaredy cat?’ she taunted.
‘Oh really!’ He surged up in one fluid movement, his t-shirt already up over his head.
She couldn’t help but watch as he shucked his shorts and underclothes and stood in front of her. Daring her to look. With starlight as her only illumination the details were a bit sketchy, but she got enough of an impression of his solid maleness to make a small tremor run through her body.
Laughing, she ran down into the ocean. She could hear him splashing through the shallow water behind her. Running out far enough for the water to swallow her hips, she waded into the dark ocean, careful not to get her head wet. Her skin pebbled at the cool relief and she dropped the rest of her body into the water and swam for some lengths, enjoying the feel of her movement through the silky liquid.
Something touched her feet. Then she was suddenly dragged backwards as two large hands grabbed her by the ankles. His hands slithered up to her waist and then easily lifted her so she was standing in front of him; the water still only waist deep.