Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong by Nikki Logan Read Free Book Online

Honor raised her voice. She’d spent the better part of four years learning to love her scars. ‘They belong to me. And they belong to—’ Her head jerked back, appalled at what she’d been about to say. Her chest heaved beneath the towel.
    Not for him.
    Not for anyone.
    She was starting to become critically aware that he was fully dressed and she … wasn’t. She turned and marched back to the campsite, only realising at the last second that her bottom was swinging in the breeze again. She heard the crunching of his feet as he followed her into camp. Strangely, that didn’t bother her. Somewhere deep down she knew he wasn’t going to hurt her. Not physically.
    ‘You and I are going to keep our distance. Until your boat is repaired—’
    He hissed his impatience. ‘That’s not going to be necessary, Honor. I’ve seen you without your clothes on—big deal. I virtually saw as much on the beach this afternoon—your bikini doesn’t leave much to the imagination— and I’ve managed not to drag you off into the dunes, haven’t I?’
    She glared at him.
    ‘Oh, fine!’ He reached down and un-snapped his board shorts. Honor spun away as he dropped them.
    ‘What the hell are you doing?’
    ‘I’m evening up the score,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen you, so you can see me. I don’t care.’
    ‘I don’t want to see you!’
Liar, liar …
This was ridiculous. She was not going to turn around. ‘What are we—twelve?’
    ‘Okay—’ his voice was muffled as he pulledhis T-shirt over his head ‘—I’m naked. Take a look. Go ahead.’
    She struggled not to scream. The man had a cast iron ego. Exasperation made her boil. ‘Put your clothes on, Rob.’ She listened for the sound of him restoring his clothes and, not hearing any, turned her head a quarter back towards his silence, her eyes still averted.
    ‘What?’
    ‘You called me Rob.’ His voice was rich with smile. ‘So what?’
    ‘My
friends
call me Rob.’
    ‘Will you put your clothes back on, please?’
    ‘I will if you will.’
    ‘Fine. Watch out for the sand-ticks; they’re a nightmare to get out of your skin folds.’ She twisted the towel huffily around behind her and ducked into her tent before closing it up with a none-too-subtle
ziiiip.
It was the island equivalent of a
do not disturb
sign.
    It took long minutes after she heard Rob move away, but controlled breathing finally got Honor’s erratic heartbeat back down to a regular rate. But it would be a long time before sleep came in her cosy tent haven.
    She should have been spitting mad. After what he’d done, no one would judge her for tossing his firm butt off this island. But there’d been something so credible about hisexplanation. Ludicrous that he’d come ashore at three a.m. but, who knew, maybe he was as much of a night owl as she was. He probably was only warming up at this time back on the mainland. And could she honestly say—hand on heart—that she wouldn’t have looked if it had been
him
sponging that body down in the moonlight?
    Her imagination bubbled with what she hadn’t allowed herself to look at when he’d stripped down behind her. The worst of it was, no matter what she imagined, chances were the reality wasn’t too far off. Rob Dalton was young and fit and good looking and … God … so
alive.
    Honor frowned at the word her subconscious threw up. She guessed Rob was a man who squeezed every bit of juice out of life. He loved his shipwrecks, clearly loved his women and had such a striking sense of vitality and excitement about him even when he was relaxed—the sort of qualities she hadn’t experienced in years. Not since …
    She frowned and tried to think about the last time she’d felt vital and realised she was going back a lot longer than four years. She hadn’t realised she missed it until tonight. Rob’s presence was a living reminder that comfortable and predictable was not all roses and perfume.
    It meant she missed out on feelings like this. Like