escaping and twirlingaround her temples. He only had to lift a finger and he’d be able to touch it but she was just starting to relax. ‘Is the breeze bothering you?’
She shook her head. ‘You know the driver,’ she murmured.
‘I’m a regular visitor to Fiji and Vaka Malua. Malakai’s worked there since the resort opened.’
‘Okay … so what does
Vaka Malua
mean?’
He looked into her eyes and said, ‘It means to linger, or stay awhile.’
Of course it did
—he could read the scepticism in her eyes. She held his gaze a split second longer, then turned away to let the air blow on her face.
He smiled to himself and turned to watch the Fijian green slide by before looking back at her. ‘Do you travel a lot?’
‘Not for the past couple of years.’
‘How long are you here?’
How long do I have to convince you to change your mind?
‘Two weeks.’
‘Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for.’
She didn’t reply.
Sensing she wasn’t going to open up, he used the rest of the journey to provide a running commentary of the area they were passing through. Large cream dwellings set back from the road amongst encroaching vegetation, purple and red flamed bushes and stands of banana palms. The regular abundance of locals walked along the side of the road.
The resort came into view, a cluster of steep-pitched grey roofs in the traditional way of Fijian architecture, the Vaka Malua Club’s deluxe bures perched on the top of the hill, the rest of the resort sweeping down to the beach.
Malakai pulled under the portico and the wide open-air reception area. ‘You getting out here too?’ he asked Nic.
‘No.’ He turned to Charlotte as Malakai slid out to open her door. ‘Here we are. I have something to take care of elsewhere.’ He nodded towards the staff approaching with smiles and banjos and shell necklaces. ‘Looks like the welcome party’s ready to cater to your every wish and command.’
She looked quickly at him and her eyes flashed hot—as he’d intended them to with his mention of wishes—before her gaze darted away to her handbag, which she’d strategically placed on the seat between them. ‘I hope you enjoy your visit,’ she said, climbing out.
‘You too.’ He watched her departure, unable to stop his gaze from wandering. She had the sexiest backside he’d ever come into contact with.
She was going to be here two weeks.
‘Wait.’ Flipping open his wallet, he pulled out an Aussie fifty-dollar note and scrawled his phone number across the bottom. He jumped out, came around to her side of the limo and tucked it in the top of her handbag. ‘In case you change your mind.’
Without waiting for her response, he climbed back into the limo and shut the door. ‘Take me home, Malakai.’
Smiling, he wondered who’d give in first.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘T HE new furniture arrived safely?’ Nic talked freely now they were alone and heading for Nic’s residence adjacent to the resort along a private road crowded with lush vegetation.
‘Ni mataka
,’ Malakai told him. Tomorrow. ‘It was sent to the resort by error this afternoon. They promised to come back in the morning.’
‘And the artwork’s finished?’
‘Io.’
Yes. ‘Tenika likes the paintings very much.’ Malakai spoke with shy fondness of his wife. ‘We hung it like you said. Very nice.’
‘I’m looking forward to seeing it.’
Nic was also looking forward to catching up with the couple who occupied a separate wing of his home, keeping the whole place spotless and liveable whenever he was down south, which was often weeks at a time. It was so satisfying to be in a position to provide two people he cared about with employment and accommodation. He knew how it was to live in poverty.
Moments later they drove through the high gates and onto the property. His contentment rubbed alongside pride as his luxury white home with its timber-louvred shutters open to the afternoon breeze came into view. He’d
She shook her head. ‘You know the driver,’ she murmured.
‘I’m a regular visitor to Fiji and Vaka Malua. Malakai’s worked there since the resort opened.’
‘Okay … so what does
Vaka Malua
mean?’
He looked into her eyes and said, ‘It means to linger, or stay awhile.’
Of course it did
—he could read the scepticism in her eyes. She held his gaze a split second longer, then turned away to let the air blow on her face.
He smiled to himself and turned to watch the Fijian green slide by before looking back at her. ‘Do you travel a lot?’
‘Not for the past couple of years.’
‘How long are you here?’
How long do I have to convince you to change your mind?
‘Two weeks.’
‘Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for.’
She didn’t reply.
Sensing she wasn’t going to open up, he used the rest of the journey to provide a running commentary of the area they were passing through. Large cream dwellings set back from the road amongst encroaching vegetation, purple and red flamed bushes and stands of banana palms. The regular abundance of locals walked along the side of the road.
The resort came into view, a cluster of steep-pitched grey roofs in the traditional way of Fijian architecture, the Vaka Malua Club’s deluxe bures perched on the top of the hill, the rest of the resort sweeping down to the beach.
Malakai pulled under the portico and the wide open-air reception area. ‘You getting out here too?’ he asked Nic.
‘No.’ He turned to Charlotte as Malakai slid out to open her door. ‘Here we are. I have something to take care of elsewhere.’ He nodded towards the staff approaching with smiles and banjos and shell necklaces. ‘Looks like the welcome party’s ready to cater to your every wish and command.’
She looked quickly at him and her eyes flashed hot—as he’d intended them to with his mention of wishes—before her gaze darted away to her handbag, which she’d strategically placed on the seat between them. ‘I hope you enjoy your visit,’ she said, climbing out.
‘You too.’ He watched her departure, unable to stop his gaze from wandering. She had the sexiest backside he’d ever come into contact with.
She was going to be here two weeks.
‘Wait.’ Flipping open his wallet, he pulled out an Aussie fifty-dollar note and scrawled his phone number across the bottom. He jumped out, came around to her side of the limo and tucked it in the top of her handbag. ‘In case you change your mind.’
Without waiting for her response, he climbed back into the limo and shut the door. ‘Take me home, Malakai.’
Smiling, he wondered who’d give in first.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘T HE new furniture arrived safely?’ Nic talked freely now they were alone and heading for Nic’s residence adjacent to the resort along a private road crowded with lush vegetation.
‘Ni mataka
,’ Malakai told him. Tomorrow. ‘It was sent to the resort by error this afternoon. They promised to come back in the morning.’
‘And the artwork’s finished?’
‘Io.’
Yes. ‘Tenika likes the paintings very much.’ Malakai spoke with shy fondness of his wife. ‘We hung it like you said. Very nice.’
‘I’m looking forward to seeing it.’
Nic was also looking forward to catching up with the couple who occupied a separate wing of his home, keeping the whole place spotless and liveable whenever he was down south, which was often weeks at a time. It was so satisfying to be in a position to provide two people he cared about with employment and accommodation. He knew how it was to live in poverty.
Moments later they drove through the high gates and onto the property. His contentment rubbed alongside pride as his luxury white home with its timber-louvred shutters open to the afternoon breeze came into view. He’d
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