‘That’s so hard for anyone, but especially a child.’
‘He was always so popular until the accident.’ Donny stared at a spot on the dining mat. ‘His mother works hard to raise money to take him away for help. His father works in Australia to make money.’
‘When was the last time Josaia saw his dad?’ Olivia asked, her heart thudding.
‘Christmas.’
Seven months ago. What sort of life was that for a young boy? Not to have his dad there had to be hard. Olivia knew about that. She wanted to slap the floor and say she’d see that Josaia got whatever he needed and as soon as possible, but despite the urgent need to help this boy she held her tongue. She’d talk this through with Zac first.
*
Zac knew Olivia was barely holding herself together for the remainder of their time with Donny’s family. He could see the sadness in her face, feel the need for her to do something to rectify what had happened with Josaia. But most of all he understood how much she was struggling to hold it all in so that she didn’t make rash promises she mightn’t be able keep and thereby hurt the family further.
The meal was over early by their standards. As they walked away from their hosts Zac draped an arm over Olivia’s shoulders. ‘I’d like a drink.’
‘I could go a cup of tea.’
‘We can discuss what you’re desperate to do for Josaia.’
‘That poor kid. I bet the worst part of the whole deal is the way his old friends are now treating him. Children are cruel.’ She shuddered.
‘Insecurities, jealousy, wanting to be popular with the in-crowd. Anything and everything. Even plain old nastiness.’ The sudden tension in her fingers suggested she’d had her share of being on the outside. But of course. She’d said she’d worked hard to be liked and be a part of the group at med school. ‘This is why you want to help Josaia? Apart from the medical point of view?’
They’d reached the outdoor lounge at the main building by the time she answered. ‘That boy is surrounded by people who love him, but they’re all adults. There don’t appear to be any children in his life. At first I thought that was because it was the end of the day and everyone would be at home, except when we walked to Donny’s house there were kids playing behind the huts.’
‘Then we saw his face and heard the despair in his grandparents’ voices.’
‘You’re onto it.’
Zac pulled out a chair for Olivia at an outside table. ‘What are you having?’
A wicked twinkle lit up her eyes, banishing that sadness for a boy she’d barely met. ‘You know what? Forget tea. Make that a cocktail.’ She looked around. ‘Where’s a menu?’
‘What about PS I…’ His voice trailed off at the realisation of what he’d been about to say. It was only the name of a drink, but the import of the words he hadn’t finished were slowly sinking in, one by one, adding up to a frightening whole.
‘Zac? What’s up? Are you all right?’
The concern in her tone wound around him, added to his confusion. Had he really been going to say ‘PS I love you’? Shaking his head, he sank onto a chair, putting a gap between them. But her eyes followed, as did that floral scent she wore. Or was that the smell of the frangipani growing a metre away?
‘Zac.’ Her eyes widened. ‘You’re worrying me.’
‘I’m fine.’ Really? This palpitating heart thing is fine? The knot in your gut is A-okay? The sweat on your palms due to the humidity? ‘Sorry. There’s a cocktail made with amaretto, Kahlúa, and Irish cream that’s perfect for after dinner. Very creamy and sweet, like a dessert, which you’ve missed out on tonight.’ Blah, blah, blah. Shoving up onto his feet, he asked, ‘Will that do?’ Ordering drinks would give him the space he needed right now.
‘Sounds good.’ Olivia nodded, looking perplexed. As well she should. Did she know she was with a lunatic?
Moving through the tables full of happy diners, Zac tried to ignore the questions battering his brain. He’d been enjoying getting to know Olivia better, happy being with her, wanted more time together. So why the hell hadn’t he ever considered he might be falling for her?
Because love spelt commitment. Commitment isn’t the problem. No. It wasn’t. It’s the responsibility. That went with any relationship, whether the other person was his best friend, his lover, or his brother. He loved Mark, had done from the day his tiny, wriggly body had been placed in his arms. Yet he’d still managed to screw up in a very big way, changing Mark’s life for ever.
‘Yes, sir. What would you like?’
Zac shook his head and stared across the bar at the woman waiting patiently for him to tell her what drinks he wanted. ‘A whisky on the rocks. Make it a double. And do you know a cocktail called PS I Love You?’
She frowned. ‘Not sure, but we’ve got a book describing most cocktails.’
When Zac told her the ingredients she smiled. ‘We call it Love on the Wind. I’ll bring the drinks across to you.’
He wasn’t ready to return to Olivia. ‘I’ll have that whisky now.’ And ordered a second to take with him.
Olivia watched him placing her glass on the table, returning to his seat. He waited for her to ask why he’d taken so long, and was grateful when she didn’t.
‘Where do we start with Josaia’s case? Talk to his family, or go to the mainland to check out the hospital and see if I can do a surgery there?’
‘Why not take him back to Auckland for the operation? If there’s going to be one. You’ve only seen that horrendous scar from across the room in dim light. There might be nothing you can do.’
She sipped her Love on the Wind—he would not think of it as PS I Love You—and smiled. Her tongue did a lap of her lips. ‘That’s amazing.’
So was the way his heart squeezed and his insides softened. Of course his libido sat up to attention. That was a given around this woman. What was extraordinary was that she didn’t know about this new effect she was having on him. He’d have sworn there were signs written all over his face. ‘Glad you like it. About Josaia and what to do first.’ He had to talk, about anything except them, and talk lots.
Olivia said, ‘Operating back home might be preferable so we get the best people on side for Josaia. It’s going to involve huge expense for the family, though. Hospital costs, accommodation, flights, and other incidentals I can’t think of right now.’
‘I doubt there’s a lot of spare money in that household.’ He locked his eyes on hers. ‘You’re going to throw in your time for free.’
‘Of course.’
‘I want to look at that shoulder. There might be something I can do there.’ See, he could move on from those other thoughts that had swamped his brain. ‘First we’ll talk to Donny. If he’s willing to take this further, we’ll decide how to go about it.’
Olivia’s hand covered his, and her fingers curled around his. ‘We have a plan.’
‘You like plans, don’t you?’
‘They keep me centred.’
So what was her plan for the rest of the night? It wouldn’t be what he hoped for. She’d be keeping to the other plan. Zac drained his glass, trying not to bemoan the fact he’d set the rule in the first place.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE ARRAY OF fish in every colour imaginable stole Olivia’s breath away when she sank beneath the sea’s surface off Treasure Island. She automatically reached out for Zac’s hand and tugged him down beside her. ‘Unbelievable,’ she spluttered in her mouthpiece, even though he couldn’t hear her.
When Zac looked her way she saw the same amazement in his face. When he started stroking through the water, heading further out from the shore, she followed. She’d never seen anything like this. When Zac paused she swam up beside him to lean in against his body. Skin to skin underwater. Delicious and exciting. And then there were the fish. One big, fat, enjoyable picture.
Olivia kicked her flippers slowly so as not to disturb the dainty creatures too much and followed a group of yellow and blue fish. Then a larger orang
e one swam through the middle, scattering the others. Yellow and blue fish. Orange fish. She grinned. Very technicolour. Down here it was like a moving painting: sharp colours, delicate manoeuvres, majestic shapes—and innocence. As though these creatures had no enemies. Which was probably far from the truth, though at least they were safe from mankind. This was a sanctuary, and the results were stunning. The numbers and varieties of fish were unbelievable.
‘That’s magic down there.’ Zac echoed her thoughts when they finally crawled out of the water and flopped onto the sand.
‘I’ve been missing out on so much by not travelling.’ She lay on her back, arms and legs spread in the sun. ‘It’s one of those things on my to-do-one-day list. Think it’s time to make that a do-it-now list.’
‘Shame your mother hated flying.’
‘Didn’t matter.’ Olivia sat up and started brushing off the sand, which was scratchy on her skin. ‘Dad left when I was twelve.’
‘That’s tough.’
She swallowed hard. ‘Mum was—is—an alcoholic.’ Swallow. She couldn’t look at Zac. ‘As in often totally crazy, uncontrollable, off-the-rails alcoholic. Dad ran out of patience.’
‘How the hell did you cope?’ Zac’s hand covered hers.