Page 162 of Modern Romance Collection Books (5-8)

He flicked his gaze between their destination and where Evie sat on the bench seating, holding on to her hat, her face upturned towards the sun, looking for the world like a tourist on her way to a deserted beach. If she hadn’t been wearing walking boots, canvas trousers and a loose linen shirt.

He’d been slightly disconcerted when he’d dressed in what she called her field-work clothing. Disconcerted by the shocking jolt of lust that had speared him by her efficient, utterly practical work uniform. Then again, he was beginning to fear that it might not actually matter what she was wearing, because it was her—her, unique, utterly spectacular, fascinatingly focused, intently determinedher—that he was attracted to beyond reason.

‘You should stop looking at me like that,’ she said, her eyes still closed.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he replied, a half-smile reluctantly pulling at his lips as he steered the speedboat in an arc to land as close to the small strip of beach the captain had suggested would make the most logical place to land the boat.

The movement of the speedboat mirrored the twists and turns of her stomach. As she hid behind dark glasses and basked in the sun, strangely it was Mateo’s attention that grounded her. Grounded her in something tangible rather than the hypothetical that lay at the end of their journey.

The night before had connected them on a deeply physical level; an awareness of him she could never have imagined lay like a second skin over her body. It was as if she were a sunflower turning to face him, seeking him out, and the instinctive independence in her chafed a little. But despite that, she was impossibly thankful that she wasn’t doing this alone because she was suddenly nervous.

Nervous that they would find nothing. That she wouldn’t be able to validate the Professor’s theories, that she wouldn’t be able to give the Queen and her father what they wanted. What if she failed them? What if she failed because she wasn’t good enough? She pressed a palm to her chest and took a breath, trying to ground herself on a moving vessel.

You want to be as strong as Isabella?

How did you not know that you already are?

The words Mateo had given her the night before whispered the strength and confidence into her soul. Because for the first time, ever, she had seen herself through Mateo’s eyes, she had seen herself as he had—as strong and powerful as Isabella, a Pirate Princess.

And as she looked up at the uninhabited island, through the series of jagged rocks waiting to damage and break those who would trespass on its shores, she felt something unfurl in her chest. A knowing, deep and instinctive, as if she was on the brink of discovering something significant.

The island the coordinates had brought them to wasn’t quite the small desert island with a palm tree and nothing but sand one imagined for a treasure hunt. Large, dark, craggy rocks loomed unwelcomingly above the sliver of white sandy beach she caught glimpses of as the speedboat surfed the tricky tides, making it appear taller than it was wide. But despite that, she was sure that they would findsomethinghere. Something to validate the Professor’s research, to give the Queen and her father what they needed, and maybe, just maybe, even something for her.

Mateo jerked the wheel as they drew too close to one of the perilous formations dotted between them and their landing point, and Evie cringed at the thunderous sound as the side of the boat scraped against rock.

Mateo grimaced, but said nothing, clearly needing all his concentration to manoeuvre them away. His forearms corded as he yanked the wheel one way and another into the swell of the tide, pushing them back while he gently urged them forward. Not too much throttle but enough to slowly tease the boat away from the rocks.

By the time they made it through the dangerous maze of rocks and tides and to the beach, they were both damp from sea spray, a little breathless, and nearly an hour later than they had imagined arriving. With his shoes tied together by their laces and hung around his neck, Mateo rolled up his trousers, jumped over the side of the boat and pulled the speedboat to shore. He secured the boat and turned to her, holding out his hand, and for the breadth of a heartbeat Evie saw him as he’d been the night before, welcoming her to a candlelit dinner on a bleached blond beach dusted by dusk and heat in his eyes. Her body throbbed in the memory of last night—the one night she’d asked him for. Just one. She would never regret asking for what she wanted. And even though there would be no more nights like it, she would never regret what they had shared.

He called her name as if sensing she was elsewhere and, steeling herself, she took his hand and jumped down onto the sand, adjusting the straps of her rucksack and studying the GPS tracker to locate themselves in relation to the coordinates. She waited for Mateo to put his shoes back on and nod to her that he was ready.

‘This is your show, Evelyn. You lead, I’ll follow.’

If only he would, she thought.

An hour later of really quite difficult climbing, up a near invisible and definitely deteriorated track, they arrived at the summit of the island. The cover provided by the thick and tangled vegetation that had protected them from the sun gave way to a clear blue sky that balanced on an azure horizon line from the sea. The sun beat down on them, drying her sweat to a salty residue around her neck.

Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked out at the Philippine Sea, and in her heart Evie saw eighteenth-century ships sailing in the hazy distance. The pulse pounding against her eardrums was like explosions from a canon firing at a pirate ship, and beneath it all was a whisper from Isabella asking her to find her. A bead of sweat turned icy cold and fell down her spine as Mateo pressed a flask of water into her hands and gently tugged her into the shade.

‘Drink,’ he ordered.

She shook her head at the command, reluctant to leave her thoughts.

‘Evie, you need some water. You haven’t had any since we got off the boat.’

Reluctantly she caved in and went to sit next to where Mateo was perched against a smooth jut of rock beneath a palm casting dappled shade, taking a mouthful of water and only then realising how thirsty she really was.

She half expected him to press to question, or suggest they turn back, or try and take the lead, but he didn’t. Not once. She may have been teaching in a classroom for the last two years, but even fellow students had overstepped her when they’d been in the field. Whether it was her age, or her gender, she had been pushed to the back. And yes, it was only the two of them here, but it wasn’t that either. Mateo trusted her to know her limits and herself here, and that...that was something incredible to her.

And she wished it hadn’t happened just when she was about to fail.

‘What is it?’ he asked as if sensing her feelings.

‘We’re here.’

‘Where?’

‘At the coordinates.’

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