LITMIR.BIZ

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do you know? You only said two words to him.’ And neither of them were polite.

      ‘We’ve been … working together.’

      ‘What? Since when?’ Not cool, that high-pitched squeak in her voice. She moderated it.

      ‘Since about a month after we went out into the surf with him.’

      She gaped and then grabbed at the sides of the boat as it rocked perilously again.

      ‘He got me involved with the Dolphin Preservation Society. They’re a client now.’

      Umbrage broiled up fast. ‘You hit them up for business?’

      His lips thinned. ‘Yes, Shirley. I figured they must have millions hidden beneath the moth-eaten nothing they appear to have and I wanted my cut.’

      She let the rest of her confusion out on a hiss. ‘I don’t understand.’

      ‘I work with them pro bono. Help them to position themselves in the market, to find contributors for their cause and customers for the beach experience. Building their capacity.’

      A strange kind of mist rose on the water, swirled around their boat and then sucked up into her body, making her feel light and fluid. ‘You helped them?’

      ‘I am capable of random acts of kindness from time to time.’ His words were half defensive.

      ‘I … Yes, of course.’ She’d seen that gentle side at work. Up close and personal. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

      ‘I just did.’

      ‘No, months ago … Why keep it to yourself?’

      ‘I knew you’d carry on like this. Make a big deal of it.’

      ‘I’m not carrying on, I’m curious.’ She sat taller. ‘And it is a big deal.’

      ‘Well, far be it from me to fail to assuage Shiloh’s fathomless curiosity.’

      Super-hedge. And then it hit her. Her breath tripped over the skipped beat of her heart. ‘Did you … Was it because of me?’

      Ridiculous, surely. He wouldn’t care what she thought of him. Beyond what she thought of him in the sack. And he knew the answer to that. Because no one could fake the responses he elicited.

      ‘No, it wasn’t for you.’ Immediate. Slightly urgent.

      Okay. ‘So it was for you?’

      He rushed to address that misconception, too. ‘No, it was not. It was for them.’

      She smiled as he realised he’d been snookered. Whether for her, or them or himself, it didn’t change the facts. ‘That’s a pretty significant philosophical shift, Hayden.’

      ‘You think I’m only interested in money? Ever?’

      ‘Based on the evidence, yes.’ Except now the evidence had changed. Now he’d thrown a massive curve-ball into her neatly stacked up preconceptions. And she knew she’d never be able to stack them the same way again.

      Which meant it had just got a whole heap harder to keep her feelings at arms’ length. While he was a man who would use his skills to exploit and manipulate others it was possible to maintain a rigid defence against the attraction and intrigue that battered on the door of her resolve.

      But if he was a man who helped those who helped others. A man who’d carve a boat to please her. Or jump from a bridge …

      She needed to move things back onto a safer footing. ‘So this is our gondola?’

      ‘And this—’ he cast his arms wide at the ultramodern canal lined with expensive houses ‘—is our Venice.’

      It was a bit of a cop-out, but then again Venice was a very long way away, and he had built something—with his hands—for her. That was a turn-on in a very caveman kind of way.

      Okay, Venice it was.

      She settled herself more primly in the bow of the boat and tucked the folds of her skirt around her. ‘Shouldn’t you be poling us along? And singing in Italian?’

      ‘Nobody needs to hear that,’ he joked. ‘But … Ecco!’

      He drew a tall, brightly painted pole from along the floor of the canoe. The boat wobbled horribly as he rose to his feet, balancing the timber across him like some kind of trainee circus performer and then lowering it into the water on one side. Somehow they stayed upright.

      ‘Is it long enough? This channel looks awfully deep.’ It had to be for some of the enormous pool toys moored to every jetty.

      He slid it into the water. ‘We’ll find out.’

      It was, though Hayden’s prowess in the field of gondoliering left a lot to be desired. Fortunately his prowess in other fields more than made up for their slow progress. They splashed on in silence for a few minutes and Shirley let herself enjoy the view. Both in the boat and out of it. Hayden’s muscles bunched under his T-shirt as he propelled them along, his locked thighs holding him steady in the little boat.

      She let herself look her fill. Everything around them went kind of … glazy.

      ‘Don’t look at me like that, Shirley,’ he warned after a silent moment. ‘It’s just a canoe.’

      Whoops. What had she failed to disguise? She caught his eyes. Held them. ‘You built it with your hands.’ For me. ‘That’s not nothing.’

      His snort was about as graceful as his boat. ‘I did that to get laid. I knew I couldn’t show up empty-handed and expect you to invite me back into your bed.’

      No. She knew him well enough now. The defensive tone stood out in mile-high fluoro. He’d done it for her. To please her. A warm rush started at her toes and worked its way upwards. But pressing the point wasn’t going to help matters.

      ‘How kind that you were willing to wait for an invitation,’ she teased.

      He smiled, infuriating in its confidence and seat-squirmingly uncomfortable in its sexiness. ‘Lip service. I know how I affect you.’

      Yes, he did. More fool her. And he was affecting her right now. To the point that she wanted to do something about it. Something they weren’t going to be able to manage in his terrible gondola.

      So she changed the subject instead. Big time. Desperate times, desperate measures.

      ‘How old were you when your mum died?’

      Hayden dropped his chin, didn’t answer, just kept punting them along. For the longest time. ‘What makes you think she died?’ he eventually said.

      She shook her head. ‘What you said just before you met Twuwu, about your parents sitting there together being the least likely thing you could ever imagine. And then at the gorge, you said that we were a decade too late for her.’

      ‘It’s not really something I talk about,’ he said.

      None of your business, in other words. She’d been telling other people straight for long enough to recognise from the hip when she saw it. And to accept it. It wasn’t reasonable to be offended by it. Even if it also hurt.

      ‘No. Okay.’

      Splash, splash … They drifted on, a dark, heavy cloud suddenly hanging over Hayden. She distracted herself looking at the McMansions lining the canal side.

      He cleared his throat. ‘There was a reason I was so gutted when we lost your mum.’

      We. She would have liked that sentiment at the time; it would have made her feel less alone.

      ‘It hit me extra-hard because I was grieving for two mothers.’

      Her stomach tightened. ‘Did yours go that same year?’

      ‘Three years

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