SIXTEEN

Justine

I can't look Ronan in the eye all the way down the hill. For one thing we're too close for comfort. Being snuggled against his broad, masculine chest makes me powerfully aware of his strength and the earthy, musky scent of him. For another, I can't help remembering the last time we were this close and intimate, back in the spa. The memory has my cheeks blazing, and I'm certain he can read my dirty thoughts in my blush.

"Have you always been this fit?" I ask, just for something to fill the awkward silence.

I realize then, of course, while I'm not out of breath, he's walking and carrying me, and probably doesn't feel like talking.

When he answers, I'm surprised. "I used to go hiking with my dad. We went all over Australia and New Zealand in my gap year." I can barely hear any strain in his voice from carrying me. "It's been a long time, though."

"I love New Zealand! My stepfather, Hamu, is from New Zealand and he took me and Mom there for vacation a few years ago. It's beautiful. I've never been to Australia, though. I've always wanted to."

I expect to lapse into silence again, but Ronan surprises me by continuing the conversation. "What about you? What do you like to do for exercise?"

I laugh. "I'm not good at many sports. I'm too clumsy. But I like swimming. There's a pool nearby my house and I sometimes go there after work." There's a pause. "It's been a while for me, too."

Late nights at work have prevented me recently. I should get back to it.

Ronan makes a thoughtful noise. "Sometimes it's hard to make time for yourself."

I smile a little to myself. Was that a glimpse of the real Ronan? "It is," I agree. "Especially for someone who works as hard as you!"

I'm looking over his shoulder when we round a curve, and I spot a tiny patch of white sand that stands out starkly against the gray and brown of the rocky cliff. "Look!"

Ronan turns to look. "Sand!"

"Do you think that's it?"

"Only one way to find out."

He carries me all the way to flat ground and we find a tiny path leading down to the smallest beach I've ever seen. In fact I think you'd be hard pressed to even call it a beach. It's more like a cave, only the wall facing the sea has been eroded to form a hollowed section where the waves splash violently against the rock. A few feet of sand is all that can find a foothold in such circumstances. I giggle. "That's not what I had in mind when the card said kissing."

Ronan snorts. "What did you have in mind?"

"Gentle lapping." The words are out of my mouth before I can really think about them. I flush as soon as Ronan quirks his brow. I peep at him through my fingers. "Not like that!"

"Like what, Justine? I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Right. Because only one of my books would refer to oral sex as gentle lapping or kissing. Not an actual person. I'm sure Ronan isn't into that, anyway. Guys don't actually like going down, do they?

He clears his throat and sets me down. "Can you stand?"

My ankle is uncomfortable, but I won't fall. I nod. Then I spot the card wedged into a crack in the rock. "Oh, here's the clue. Shall I read it?"

"Go ahead."

Why does it feel like he's watching me more closely? I shake off the feeling, plucking the card from the rock and turning it to the right side.

"A thousand kisses steals my heart from me; And pay them at thy leisure, one by one. May as well start now, if you haven't already."

I stare up at Ronan. He's staring back at me. "We're supposed to kiss."

There's a long, awkward silence.

I'm just about to turn over the card and read the next clue when he strides forward. I'm off balance because of my foot—and, let's face it, because of him. He almost bowls me off my feet, except his hand cups my face and the other is at the small of my back, holding me floating while his lips descend on mine. For the second time in two days, I'm completely lost in it. Wrapped up, absorbed by the sheer pleasure of kissing him. He's possessive, commanding, but also sweetly sensual the way he moves his lips and tongue against mine. He is so much larger he should overwhelm me. Instead, his mouth goads mine, coaxing pleasure from me until I can't help but respond. When he breaks away, I'm clinging to his shirt.

I let go as quick as I can, still a little dazed.

Ronan coughs and turns away. "Right. Well. That's done. What's next?"

Oh. I thought for a moment there...

Well, that was silly. Of course, a sophisticated billionaire like Ronan wouldn't be swept away by a little kiss. He's so good at it. Of course, he must kiss beautiful women and monsters all the time! It's only me who is still struggling to breathe in the wake of it.

We follow a series of clues around the small island. Ronan takes the lead, carrying me up and down, and does not complain the entire time. Held in his arms, I'm too flustered to talk much. My mind is on that kiss and the way it felt to be gathered up in his arms as if he was hungry for it.

Ronan lets me rest at the next stop for something to eat. My ankle is throbbing, but I don't want to let on how much. It's not like I've been doing anything beyond being a passenger this whole time. He must be tired.

Finally, the last clue leads us to a little wooden cottage at the center of the island. "Home is where the heart is, or perhaps you'll find the clue to your spouse's heart at home!" One glance at the map reveals there's only one structure on Rottager. Heaven knows how anyone built anything here. Getting supplies here seems like mission impossible to me.

That must be why the place looks so dilapidated. There's a hole in the corrugated iron roof and part of the window pane is missing. The little garden, which was probably once cute, is overgrown and ivy grows in through the broken glass.

We find the card stuck beneath a faded doormat.

"Let your names join the list of lovers and then your task is done," I read.

"The last task. Thank fuck." Ronan looks around. "What list?"

I try the door and it isn't locked. "Let's look inside."

It's a relief to go inside, if only for a moment. The wind has picked up and the dark clouds are looking more threatening than ever. A few spots of rain cling to my cheek as I open the door and enter. I'm limping, but my ankle doesn't feel as bad as it did before. The rest has done me good.

Inside is a bed with a dusty mattress and lace curtains that have fallen from the window onto the floor. There's an old quilted bedspread and a wooden bench, and a meager kitchen with a log fireplace. That's it. No book. No paper.

Then I see it. "Look." I point to one wall of the cottage where hundreds of people have scratched their names into the wood. Roughly drawn hearts and pairs of names make it obvious what it is. "Aww, how lovely."

Ronan scoffs. "Defacing property? Sure. Lovely."

I frown at him. "It's not like that. Clearly, it's a tradition."

He sighs and takes a pocket knife from his pack. "Come on then. Would you like to do the honors, or will I?"

I know he won't take it seriously and, really, I don't know why I do, but somehow to do a dodgy job feels disrespectful of the other couples. I hold out my hand for the knife. "Let me."

He hands it over and I do my best to whittle our names onto the only blank space I can find. It's hard work, though. Harder than I thought. I wanted to draw a heart, but I can only get one line above my name before the knife gets caught. I struggle with it, but I can't get it to work.

I put in a final effort, but the knife won't budge and I'm getting upset because I've ruined the list. It looks dreadful.

Ronan's large hand closes over mine. "What are you doing, Traffic Lights?"

I stop and stare up at him, having to twist my head to do so. "What did you call me?"

He snorts. "Traffic Lights. Since you're always lighting up red."

I scowl at the reference to my blushes and my red hair, but I can't argue with him. I am, after all. And actually it's kind of nice.

"What are you doing?" he asks more gently.

"I wanted to draw a heart." I suddenly feel sheepish about the romantic gesture.

Instead of scoffing at me, Ronan puts his hands over mine, guiding the knife around in the shape until our names are enclosed. Then he steps back. "Happy?"

I can't look at him for a moment. My throat is tight. I nod. "Thank you," I mumble. It's stupid, but today was actually nice. He was kind and thoughtful, even if he was still grumpy. And it was totally the sort of romantic adventure I love. A shame it's not real.

"Come on." He opens the door, stooping to pass through. ‘We have a boat to catch and a show to wrap."

It hits me then this is our final night. Tomorrow, we go home after the vow ceremony. I can't see Ronan continuing the fake marriage to home stays. Not after everything it took just to get him on this section of the show. But I find myself a little sad. Seems like I had just a hint today of something more than what I've seen before. A Ronan I'm sure I'll never get another chance to meet.

I'm not sure how I'll go back to just being his junior assistant, though. Not after this. Not after sleeping with his head in my lap or being kissed and held by him.

All I can think about on the way back to the meeting point is that I wish we could be friends.