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vulnerability to erosion.’ She pointed to the scrubby bush a few feet in front of them. ‘If you’re building mansions behind us, you’ll probably construct a sea wall along here.’ She shook her head. ‘Bad move. Seriously bad move. A sea wall built along a beach only protects the landward property, but ruins the beach by isolating sand behind the wall from the active beach system. This eventually leads to serious erosion problems, and eventually no beach exists in front of the wall …’

      Her voice faded but her eyes had lost none of their spark as they pinned him with ferocious accusation.

      ‘If this beach were left to erode naturally, without a sea wall, it would always be here.’

      And her dad’s legacy would last for ever. She didn’t have to say it. It was evident in every line of her rigid body: in her defensive stance, her crossed arms, her upthrust chin daring him to disagree.

      Her fervour, her passion for her cause was staggering.

      ‘No sea wall. Got it.’

      One eyebrow arched in imperious disbelief. ‘You’re mocking me?’

      Considering he’d noticed her clenched fists, he wouldn’t dare. ‘Honestly? Your dedication is impressive but plans are in place, houses are sold, this project is going ahead.’

      With or without your approval. It was a comment he wisely confined to his head.

      ‘Houses? Don’t you mean luxury mansions worth millions? Millions designed to make your precious company mega-wealthy.’

      ‘You of all people know what land prices are worth along here. I’m just doing what any developer would do.’

      ‘Yeah, plunder the land,’ she muttered, her sagging shoulders the first sign of defeat.

      ‘Construction is going ahead.’ Feeling sorry for her, he softened his tone. ‘What would you suggest to facilitate environmental conscientiousness?’

      He listened carefully as she outlined her plans for solar panels and double glazing and toilets flushed by tank water, trying not to be distracted as the wind toyed with the strands escaping her ponytail and flushed her cheeks.

      When she’d finished, she stared at him with an eyebrow raised in question.

      ‘What do you think?’

      ‘Collate your ideas, back them up with documented research and be ready to present to my project managers day after tomorrow.’

      Her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘You mean it?’

      ‘I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean—’

      She cut him off by flinging herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck, that infernal scarf smacking him in the face.

      He floundered, propriety dictating he unwind her arms and set her back, so as not to blur their business relationship. But by the time his brain processed what he should do it was too late.

      His arms slid around her of their own volition, savouring her soft curves and the way she fitted into him.

      He knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn’t do it, but he rested his cheek on the top of her head, buried his nose in her hair and inhaled, committing the fresh outdoor scent he’d associate with her for ever to memory.

       For ever?

      It was the reality check he needed, and he quickly eased away, grateful when she laughed off their embrace as if it meant nothing.

      ‘Guess you can’t fault me for exuberance.’

      His terse nod belittled the special moment they’d shared and he glanced at his car, desperate to extract himself from an already precarious situation. One more moment in her ‘exuberant’ company and goodness knew what he’d do.

      ‘Thanks for meeting me out here. I’ll have that presentation ready for you.’

      ‘Ring Denise and she’ll schedule a time.’

      ‘Great.’

      He made a grand show of glancing at his watch, when in fact time meant nothing and he’d much rather spend the afternoon here than listen to a bunch of builders drone on about material costs.

      ‘You go.’ Her face softened. ‘I want to spend a few more minutes here.’

      On her own.

      He couldn’t give her the land back but he could give her the privacy she craved.

      ‘Sure, see you in a few days.’

      ‘Count on it.’

      She smiled, and this time something beyond scary twisted in the vicinity of his heart.

      He did the only thing possible.

      He bolted.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      GEMMA waited until the purr of Rory’s Mercedes faded before she found the nearest ti-tree and banged her forehead against it. Repeatedly. It didn’t help.

      She’d hoped it might knock some sense into her—or, better, eradicate the memory of flinging herself at Rory.

      What had she been thinking?

      That was the problem; she hadn’t been thinking. She’d been so blown away by his offer to present her recommendations to the project managers logic had fled and she’d been running on pure emotion.

      When it came to this place it had always been about emotion, and that was what hurt the most: the fact her mum hadn’t realised its importance in her life—the haven it had provided to an isolated teenager. Or if she had she’d upped and sold it without consulting her regardless.

      She rubbed her forehead, her rueful wince tempered by the incredible view. How many times had she camped here with her dad? Pitching tents, cooking sausages over an open fire, roasting marshmallows. Everything had been an adventure because her dad had made it so. He hadn’t berated her for not brushing her hair or not wearing a dress or not playing with dolls. Her dad had understood her, and standing here in their spot she missed him more than ever.

      She inhaled the briny air, its familiar tang infusing her lungs, releasing some of her residual tension. She’d always been more relaxed here, more at home. From the distinctive ti-trees to the grassy fringes, from the pristine sand to the untamed ocean, she’d never felt anything other than comfortable here. It was a feeling she could never replicate anywhere else—a feeling of righteousness, of oneness, that had been ripped away by a mother who had never understood.

      Another major head-slapping moment. She’d divulged some of her family history to Rory. She should have known the familiarity and contentment of being here would loosen her lips. Her inhibitions too, going by that cringeworthy hug.

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