Page 16 of Duty and Desire

Chapter Fourteen

Gio

I don’t think I slept more than an hour all night. Most of it was spent tossing and turning, cursing myself for being such an idiot.

I thought he’d gone to the bathroom, for God’s sake . Except when he didn’t answer, I feared he’d fainted in there or something. All it had taken was a glance at the table on the veranda for cold to flood through me.

My notebook. He looked inside my notebook.

It was the only explanation that made any sense.

I could see how he might take it. That was understandable. And I knew I could explain everything—if I got the chance. But all my messages and calls went unanswered. It wasn’t as if I could go to his home and demand he listen to me. I had no clue where he lived.

That phone was our sole line of communication, and Nick had severed it.

I’d drunk the bottle of wine he’d brought, which accounted for the suede-like tongue and the pounding headache that had persisted all night. I’d hoped it would’ve sent me to sleep.

No such luck.

By the time Aulani arrived at ten o’clock, I’d drunk about four cups of coffee, and I hadn’t eaten so much as a mouthful. I had the feeling whatever I ate wouldn’t stay down for very long.

Aulani took one look at me and put her hands on her hips. “Are you ill? You look terrible.”

I took her word for it. I’d avoided mirrors ever since I’d given up trying to sleep and had gone out onto the veranda instead, to watch the sun rise, usually an event that conveyed to me the beauty of the world.

Not today, though.

She glanced toward the kitchen, then frowned. “What is all this?”

I hadn’t even finished making dinner. Thank God I’d left the chicken in the refrigerator. The salad sat in its bowl, limp and withered.

“I messed up,” I croaked. I went to pour myself another cup, but Aulani laid her hand on my arm.

“No. That isn’t what you need right now.” She went into the fridge and removed the juice. “Have some of this, then tell me what’s going on,” she said as she poured.

I took the tall glass and drank about half of its contents. I told her about my dinner plans, Nick’s arrival—and his subsequent disappearance. “I had no idea he’d left. He didn’t say a word.”

Her frown deepened. “That doesn’t sound like Nick.”

“I think I know what happened.” I tried to breathe deeply, but my chest ached and my stomach was tight. I reached for the notebook on the coffee table. “I’d written ideas in here.”

“For a book?”

“Not exactly. More like my attempts to crank my brain into action, to give it something to chew on. The point is, I came up with all these different scenarios that might have brought Nick to the island. I let my imagination run wild, and I have to admit, some of them were pretty fanciful. But they were all about Nick. And… I think he looked at them.” And maybe at one scenario in particular.

She blinked. “If I found out someone was planning to write a book about me, I’d be dancing in the street.”

“When I first made the notes, he was little more than a name. I didn’t know him.

And I wasn’t going to write a book about Nick—I was going to create a character.

” I waved the notebook. “This was helping me get back into writing mode, nothing more. But clearly he read something in here that really upset him, or offended him.”

She coughed. “Using his name, though? I can see why he might not like that.” She tilted her head to one side. “Did any of your notes refer to things he’d told you about himself?”

I blinked, my eyes dry from lack of sleep. My throat felt as if there was a rock in it. “Yeah.” I sighed.

“Things he might not be happy about seeing in print?” She held her hand up. “I understand that wasn’t their purpose, but Nick wouldn’t know that.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

She expelled a breath. “Then yes, I agree.” I gave her a puzzled glance, and her face tightened a little around the mouth. “You messed up. So now you need to fix this. Have you got his number? Call him.”

I tossed the notebook onto the couch. “I’ve tried that. I don’t know how many times I tried, but he doesn’t answer. No reply to my messages either. I can’t even go to his house because he never told me where he lives.”

She sat at the dining table. “Maybe I can help. I can ask around. He might have someone who cleans for him, or takes care of wherever he’s living. Someone will know where he is.”

Right then I was ready to take whatever I was offered. “Thanks.”

She gazed at me, her expression warmer. “I know this is none of my business, but you seem far too upset for this to just be about Nick reading some notes.”

I swallowed. “Things… changed a little between us yesterday.”

Aulani stilled. “Oh. I see.” She bit her lip.

“Then he’s probably in the same state as you.

” She stood. “You know what? I won’t make my inquiries just yet.

” She gave me a sympathetic smile. “My suggestion is that you leave it a day or two. If you two share… feelings, give him time to come around. Because if he does feel something for you, he won’t stay away forever.

” She patted my arm. “Give him some space.”

“But what if he doesn’t come around?”

What if I’ve broken us? Before we had a chance to be something?

That fragile moment when we kissed, the way he’d pierced the walls around me… Everything had shattered, and I didn’t know if it could be put back together again.

Aulani went into the kitchen. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“No. I couldn’t face it.”

She tut-tutted. “Then sit down while I make you some breakfast. And don’t even think of arguing.”

I let out another sigh. “Thank you.” I stared at the notebook on the seat cushion beside me. The hope that had kindled in me during the previous weeks, the rush of excitement, the burst of creativity…

All gone. The way I was feeling at that moment, I might never write another word as long as I lived. I’d lost my inspiration.

More importantly, it looked as if I’d lost Nick.

I couldn’t mope in the bungalow all day, not when the sun shone, the birds sang, and the call of the supermarket grew too loud to ignore. Not that I needed much, but it was a distraction. I made a list, then drove the buggy into Vaitape.

Except I knew what I was really doing.

I was hoping for a glimpse of Nick.

And what would you do if you did see him? Rush over and beg him to hear you out?

Probably. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

I parked the buggy outside Chin Lee, and headed for the door?—

Just as Nick’s ‘shadow’ walked out of it, carrying a bag of groceries.

My God, this guy is big. Even his muscles had muscles. His blue eyes locked on mine, and he froze.

I came to a dead stop, my heart hammering. “Excuse me, but I think?—”

He held his hand toward me, palm first. “Don’t say another word, because I don’t want to hear it. I know who you are, and I know what you did.”

I gaped. “I just want to explain to him that?—”

He snorted. “I’m not letting you anywhere near him, you got that?”

I arched my eyebrows. “What are you, his bodyguard or something?”

His eyes gleamed. “I’m the guy who’s going to rip your arms out of their sockets if you try to get close to him again.” His lips twitched. “Let’s see how you write then.” And with that, he got onto a motorbike—Nick’s bike—and drove off.

I stood there trembling.

All I want to do is talk to him.

I was on an island with about ten thousand inhabitants, and there was only one of them I wanted to see.

And what if he doesn’t want to be seen? Specifically, by you?

I went into the supermarket and made a beeline for the shelves filled with alcohol. I didn’t plan drinking myself into a stupor, just enough to dull the ache in my chest.

And my heart.