Finding You (Finding You Series Book 1) (4 page)

My body turned to jelly and if I’d been standing up I would have surely collapsed in a blithering heap by now. Maybe my hearing was impaired. A drop dead gorgeous hunk was telling me how great I looked.
It didn’t make sense
, the little voices inside my head were chastising me.
He must have an ulterior motive. He probably just wants to get me into bed.

That same woozy feeling started to creep into my stomach again as panic suffocated me.

I didn’t know what to say next and suddenly felt way out of my depth, covering up one of the scars on my arm with my hand. Compliments were an exceedingly new experience from men, especially from a movie actor who could have anyone in the world. I felt like throwing up.

“Thank you.” It was the only thing manageable as I swallowed a gag.

“What are you writing, a diary or something?”

I’d forgotten all about my pen and papers still strewn beside me. They’d become invisible, as had the rest of my surroundings. It was just him and I.

“I’m working on a second book. It’s so beautiful here, I thought I might get some inspiration.”

“That’s awesome. I know, this place is out of this world. I’ll be sad when we have to leave and return to our normal lives.”

I didn’t want to think about returning to normal. I’d only just begun my holiday. Normal for me hadn’t exactly been anything to be proud of.

“So, I was wondering, would like to join me for dinner tonight? That is if you’re not too busy?”

I nearly choked.

OMG! This is not happening! It’s not! I’m in way over my head here. What if he wants sex? Not that I don’t want sex! Well, not on the first date! If it is a date. God. I’m so screwed.

“I, ugh, I don’t know if I’m going to the restaurant tonight. I was hoping for a quiet night.” I didn’t know what the hell I wanted. I was put on the spot and was floundering.

Not fazed by my answer, he added, “I’m not asking you to marry me! I just saw you sitting alone last night and thought you might like to join me for some company. I promise to behave.” His lips quirked up at the corners as he tilted his head to await my response.

And there you have it, the sympathy invitation. I knew it! I was getting good at this game. Well, at least he wouldn’t be expecting me to sleep with him.

Do I go and be friendly or do I let him go and forget all about Kyle Rutherford, the actor? It’s not like I have anything else to do. What harm could there possibly be in meeting new people and socializing?

“Well, confession time. I would really like to get to know you and I think that your conversation would far outweigh a bunch of egotistical, smelly men talking about how little sex they’ve had since arriving on the island.” His eyes twinkled as his full lips spread into a dimpled grin, showing off those arrow straight teeth.

I giggled. Putting it that way, dinner didn’t sound so scary, even if he was just feeling sorry for me. I didn’t expect anything from him, right? I could do this. I needed to step outside my comfort zone.

Going against everything I knew was rational, hoping I wouldn’t regret it, there was only one answer to his question.

“Thank you. That would be very nice, and no, I’m not too busy. What time shall I meet you?”

“Let’s say about eight o’clock.” Kyle looked at his watch. “Will that give you enough time?”

How thoughtful. “Yes. Eight o’clock will be fine. I’ll meet you in the restaurant then.”

It appeared his hand was going to move to my hair to push a strand out of my eyes but at the last minute he dropped it to my quaking hand, shaking it before I could change my mind. He stood and walked away, leaving me sitting on the beach utterly befuddled with what had happened. A wad of sentiment tumbled forth. Excitement, fear, shyness, nervousness and bewilderment all rolled into one.

Get a grip, Dakota. You can do this. It’s not a date. It’s only dinner. Relax. He’s just a person. Everything is going to be okay. No expectations.

My feet barely touched the sand as I practically flew towards my closet in the hut, instantly in a panic that there would be nothing to wear to dinner with someone so famous. I hadn’t planned on this. All my date-worthy dresses hung in my wardrobe thousands of miles away, awaiting my return. Why hadn’t I thought through my decision to pack so lightly? One had to allow for emergencies. This was definitely one of those emergencies.

Pacing back and forth, I deliberated on how he could be let down gently.

Something came up. I fell ill. Rabies. Scarlet fever. Having nothing to wear would sound even cornier and blow any chance at all of seeing him again.

Okay! Settle down. It’s not a date, remember? It’s just a meal with a member of the opposite sex. A famous member of the opposite sex! Oh shit! Who am I kidding? I’m terrified.

Looking in the closet again, I decided the long plum colored dress was the only option. It wasn’t really evening wear, more like smart, casual day wear, but it would have to do. Everything else screamed, “I’ve just come from the beach.”

At least the rich color set off the highlights in my hair that I’d put in the day before I left home. Once my makeup was on, maybe I could pull it off.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, holding the dress up to my chin, I couldn’t hide my fear. It was hard to look at my reflection and not be reminded about the hurt bubbling beneath the surface. Would he be able to sense my hidden secrets? Who would want to be associated with someone like me?

What are you doing? This is just about the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. You shouldn’t be letting your guard down. Your scars haven’t even disappeared and you’ve accepted dinner with a strange man.

Battling with my inner voice almost brought on an anxiety attack.

“There is nothing to worry about. It’s not a date! It’s not a date!” I breathed long and deep, in and out, in and out to help me relax.

Tonight would be a test of my strength and determination to move forward. My deepest fears needed to be conquered head on. That would mean spending time with men and trying not to judge them all. Not all men were abusers.

“Breathe! Come on! You can do this! You have to. If things start to get uncomfortable you can just leave. Draw on that inner strength you have and dare to start living again.”

At exactly five minutes before eight, with apprehension overwhelming me, I dressed and applied enough makeup to hide any evidence of abuse and walked out the door into the night, striding into the unknown.

Ramah greeted me at the door again and nodded her approval at the choice of clothing.

“Wow, look at you! You look like a model! Let me guess, you have a date with Kyle, the actor?”

On the defense and not knowing how she knew about my dinner companion, I quipped, “No! It’s not a date. It’s just dinner because he saw me eating alone last night. He thought I might want some company.”

“It’s okay. I was just kidding,” apologized Ramah, obviously seeing the look of embarrassment on my face. “He’s already here. He asked me to direct you over to the alcove in the corner,” she continued, pointing to where Kyle sat.

My gaze found the corner of the room, which suddenly looked way too isolated. My anxiety rose as Ramah took my hand and started across the room.

I can’t do it! I can’t do it! Please give me the strength I need to keep walking. I really want to run out of here back to my cabin where I feel safe. What if this dress is too seductive? Oh God, I think I’m going to throw up.

But it was too late now. Here I was all dressed up, approaching the most handsome man ever, feeling like a complete amateur, hoping a black, spinning vortex would swallow me up.

Kyle sat with his back to me so he didn’t see us approaching.

Ramah whispered in my ear, obviously sensing my fear, “You can do this. You look amazing.”

I took some deep breaths, trying to center myself before nodding at her. Taking that as a cue, she left me alone. I moved to the table so Kyle would see me.

When he looked around his face lit up and his eyes followed the curves of my body. I could see his eyes flit over my breasts, pausing before finding my eyes. Feeling vulnerable and out of my depth, I wondered whether I should have worn a bathrobe over the top of the dress. Anything to hide my cleavage. My hands instinctively crossed in front of my body, trying to camouflage anything that remotely looked like a breast.

“Wow! You look beautiful!” he crooned, giving me a ravishing smile.

My eyes met his and in that moment, incessant insecurities seemed to vanish. His smile comforted me in a way that no other had. The genuine warmth that exuded from that green aura glowing around him gave me the strength to reply.

“Thank you,” I said, slipping into the booth opposite him. I still needed to keep sufficient space between us so he couldn’t hear my over-zealous heart.

He looked impressive in his sapphire-blue shirt that was slightly open at the neck, revealing a tanned, hairless chest. The color matched his eyes perfectly. His prickly hair was slightly damp as if he’d showered not long ago and his full mouth, which I couldn’t seem to stop staring at, was slightly parted and moist. Oh my! How could someone’s mouth do such intense things to my lower body?

Aware that my eyes had been lingering a little too long on that lush mouth, I shyly met his obscenely provocative stare.

“What would you like to drink?” He handed over the drink menu, his voice a deep purr.

Needing to stay on top of my game and wanting to remember every moment about the evening, I opted for non-alcoholic. “I’ll stick to lemonade tonight, thanks. I’m not much of a drinker at the best of times so I don’t want any embarrassing mishaps.”

Before anything else could be uttered, he was out of his seat and at the bar. I eyed his body up and down as he ordered our drinks. Watching his mannerisms and the way he carried himself, he was the most glorious thing I’d ever seen, brimming with confidence, yet so graceful. I envisioned the privileged life he must have led. He was well spoken and had probably gone to college. His parents were more than likely middle to upper class working Americans who had paid for their son’s tuition. They probably lived in a beautiful big house with the white picket fence and lived the perfect life. He seemed so far out of my reach. And yet, here I was. Little old me from Australia. Life was downright crazy.

Silently, he approached.

The smell of him hit me first as he sat back down with our drinks. Tonight it was forest-scented soap. I breathed it in and let it flow through me. For a split second our hands touched as we both reached for our glasses, resulting in a tingling sensation in my solar plexus.

I watched Kyle look down to where our skin met and I knew he felt it. His pupils dilated for a second and then he shook his head slightly before taking a long drink.

“Looks like you got a bit of sun yesterday.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was he making fun of my strips of white and red skin thanks to my bikini top straps?

I knew the dress didn’t do a great job at covering them up but figured I probably wasn’t the only one on holiday to ever have fallen asleep on the beach only to end up looking like part of the American flag.

Seeing my hesitance to reply, he redeemed himself by pulling up his sleeves and revealing his own tan line.

“We seem to have started a new trend.” His eyes warmed me and I couldn’t help but giggle.

It had broken the ice and in an instant we were both laughing together.

We chatted for ages and had loads in common. I found him very down to earth and quite a comedian. He had me in stitches much of the time, describing funny things that had happened on different movies he’d made. My earlier fears vanished as I lost myself in his presence. The night whizzed by and I secretly hoped it would go on forever. Never before had I felt so at ease with a man. It was like we’d known each other our whole lives.

Kyle confided to me that he was an only child and lived on his own in an apartment in Los Angeles. His parents lived in a surrounding suburb, out of the city. I couldn’t help but return to the earlier vision of the perfect family house with the white picket fence and I had to grin. It was so evident.

By nine o’clock we’d both decided our hungry stomachs could take it no longer so we went to get our dinner from the buffet table, which was again laden full of food. Pasta, salads, cold meats, fruit. You name it and it was there.

I wanted to try a little of everything, suddenly famished. It all looked too good to pass up. Agog at our plates when we got back to the table, it looked like we hadn’t eaten in a month. We both broke out into hysterics before polishing off the food as quickly as we’d piled it onto our plates.

“I feel like a giant, fat hippopotamus,” exclaimed Kyle, pointing to the large bulge in his stomach.

I looked at my own pot-belly. “I won’t need to eat for another week, at least.”

After a moment of comfortable silence, Kyle said, “So tell me about your life back in Australia. It must be wonderful over there.”

I nearly spat my lemonade all over the table. The magic ride I’d been on had crashed and burned.

His question ate into my very soul, ripping out all the raw emotion I kept bottled up. Swallowing with great effort, my mind searched for an easy answer. Would I mention my past or would I just make up something wonderful? I didn’t want to get into a long, drawn out saga about my abusive marriage. That would certainly end the night quickly. Now was not the time to be dredging up old wounds. Images of pain and sorrow, loss and heartbreak flashed across my mind, threatening to spoil my amazing night. Steadying my hand, I took a sip of my drink, trying to hold onto some control.