Mr. Unforgettable (18 page)

“I wouldn't know, I've never been invited there.”

“Then let's go now.”

Liz only realized she was gripping his forearms when he gently broke free of her hold. “It can't work, Liz.”

And suddenly she understood. “Harry's not the real problem, is he? You're using him as an excuse. I hurt you and it made you realize how vulnerable you are. What's really going on is that the guy with intimacy issues is getting cold feet.”

He didn't answer, but the grimness of his features told her she was right. Except she didn't want to be right.

“You want promises, Luke? You want guarantees? I can't give you any. At some point, love requires a leap of faith.”

For a moment, his mask slipped and Liz saw the child he'd once been in all his aching vulnerability. Saw how much she was asking of a man who'd survived by safeguarding his emotions. “One day,” he said carefully, “you'll find another Harry.”

If Luke was going to make the right decision she had to help him. “I don't want another Harry. I want you.” Liz started to strip.

He stopped her. “Sex won't solve anything.”

“Good—” she shoved his hand away and kept pulling her clothes off “—because I'm not offering any.”

When she was down to bra and pants, Liz grabbed a handful of Luke's shirt and hauled him closer. “Forget the leap of faith. I'm base-jumping from Everest.” Releasing him, she walked toward the sea.

Torn between conflicting emotions, Luke watched Liz disappear over the top of the sand dune. He reached the top of the dune in time to see her striding into the moonlit sea.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Drowning. Unless you save me.”

“What the—I taught you to swim, remember!”

She didn't answer, simply threw herself into the next wave and began a slow, careful crawl toward the horizon.

Exasperated, Luke bellowed, “This is crazy!”

She swam out twenty-five meters, fifty. Stopped.

He always knew she'd turn around. Instead she treaded water and yelled, “Remember I loved you!” And began swimming again. A wisp of cloud covered the moon; for a moment Luke lost sight of her and his heart lurched. Then the moon reappeared and he saw the pale blur of her head.

Okay, she could swim, but not
that
far. And not in deep water.

Luke raced back to the deck for a life preserver but all he could find was one of Harriet's water toys. Then he kicked off his trousers, hauled off his shirt and dived into the sea. Powering through the swell, he silently swore, twice raising his head to sight her. By the time he reached Liz, she'd stopped swimming and was weakly treading water.

In his relief, Luke almost lifted her airborne. “What the
hell
do you think you're playing at?” With his free hand, he shoved the pink noodle at her.

But Liz wouldn't take it. “Is that a yes?”

Forcibly, Luke wrapped her arms around the long bendy noodle and started kicking toward shore, still too shaken to do more than rant. “You realize this is the second time I've had to save you?”

“You're wrong, I'm saving you—” they picked up speed as Liz started to kick, too “—from making the biggest mistake of your life. You're stuck with me, Luke. And Beacon Bay. I don't let go of the people I love.” A lilt of laughter entered her voice. “Haven't I just spent the past two years hanging on to Harry?”

“I can't believe you think this was funny.”

“Stop being a coward and jump, dammit.”

“Easy for you to say, you've done this before.”

“No,” she said. “I haven't. I've never loved anyone the way I love you.”

For a moment Luke stopped kicking. “You're mad,” he said. “Insane. It'll probably come out in our kids.”

Liz started to cry. They were close enough to shore to stand up, so he hauled her close, tossed the noodle aside and started kissing her, tasting tears and sea. “I love you…God, Liz, I love you so much.”

Their kisses deepened, hot and salty and full of raw need. He skimmed his hands over her body, sleek and wet, barely covered. Liz hitched her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. As he reached around to unfasten her bra, a wave crashed into them, knocking them over in a tumble of surf. They surfaced laughing.

“This always works so much better in the movies.”

She pulled him into the shallows. “Let's try this on dry land.”

On the deck, he caught her hand. “Are you sure, Liz?”

Cupping his face, she kissed him. “I'll take my chances.” Her lips curved in a smile that was pure Fred. “And remember, I only wanted you for your body, anyway.”

I
T WAS GALA DAY
at Camp Chance, and Jordan King's long hair and Christian Kelly's Ferrari had been attracting almost as much attention as the stalls and activities, the most popular of which—Super Soak a Politician—had raised over twenty-five hundred dollars.

But right now, all eyes were on the friendly football game between the Camp Chance Raiders captained by Luke Carter and made up of trustees, staff and kids, against the Beacon Bay Butt-kickers.

Also known as Citizens Caning, the team led by recently reelected mayor, Liz Light, was primarily made up age-challenged councillors and ratepayers who were as surprised as anyone to find themselves leading the game six-two.

Particularly when they hadn't scored a goal.

Amid a howl of protests from the Raiders at the announcement, Luke approached the referee, who sat on the sidelines in an armchair, with the rulebook in her lap. “I think you'll find—once again—that was
our
goal, Delores,” he said.

“I'll just check.” A twinkle in her eye, she beckoned over her two linesmen. “Ladies, they're disputing the score again.”

Kezia Kelly jogged over, her pigtails bouncing. Her mischievous expression offset the authority of her official uniform of green shorts, T-shirt and long socks. “Actually, Delores, I think the score is fifteen love.”

“Oh, Jeez! Reinforcements!” Luke yelled, and Christian and Jordan joined him.

“No, Kez, you're wrong.” Fellow linesman Kate Brogan-King, the baby bulge under her green shirt making her look like another football, waddled over. “You're thinking tennis. In soccer, a try is worth five points. So the Beacon Bay Butt-kickers lead by ten-two.”

The three men looked at one another. “That's
rugby
, Kate,” Luke said in a controlled voice. “In
football
we score a
goal
and a
goal
is worth one point.”

“For the hundredth time,” Christian added with exaggerated patience, “That's
our
goal there—” he pointed in a direction and obediently everyone looked “—and that's
their
goal at the other end of the field.”

“The ball went into our damn goal,” roared Jordan. “End of story.”

“They're arguing with you again, ref,” Liz said behind them. “Send 'em all to the sin bin.”

“You know damn well sin bins only apply in rugby and to our bedroom, Fred.” Spinning to face his wife, Luke caught Liz's wink to the other women. “Wait a minute. This is a conspiracy, isn't it?”

Delores frowned. “Ten minutes in the sin bin for questioning the referee's integrity. The rest of you back on the field, if you don't want to join him.”

Everyone scattered. So much for loyalty. Resigned, Luke collapsed on the grass next to Delores. “My big mistake was giving you an open invitation to snoop around camp.”

And next week, construction would start on Camp Corporate's dorm, which meant they'd be seeing even more of her.

“If you don't mind, big mouth, I'm trying to referee a game here.”

“Sure you are—Jord, kids on the pitch!”

Jordan scooped up Harriet and Maddie, just as Christian kicked the ball to him. With a toddler on each hip, each with a death grip on his long hair, he still managed a couple of tricks before passing the ball to Moana. The crowd loved it.

Moana aimed for Rosie, but Councillor Bray intercepted with a header, which did serious damage to his comb-over. Both sides raced for the loose ball, then Liz broke free of the pack and, barely in control of the football, came flying down the field.

In goal, Kirsty screamed, “Lizzy, you're coming the wrong way!” Still running, Liz reached down to grab the ball then did a U-turn. Swerving around her bemused pursuers, she raced down the pitch and arms outstretched, threw herself across the goal line. “Try!” she yelled triumphantly. Everybody erupted into laughter.

Delores looked at Luke. “Should we allow that?”

“Of course.” He looked at his mud-splattered wife, his friends, his kids and his community. And his heart swelled. “It was a home run.”