This was what Cara loved to do. Find quirky combinations of clothes and jewellery and make them work together. She had often thought about opening a shop at some stage in the future that combined high-street wear with vintage pieces in the one place. Now, studying the beautiful Fijian colours and designs, she wondered if it were at all possible to open a shop that offered an array of both clothing and jewellery from different cultures all in one place. She thought about her own favourite pieces. Scarves from Paris, slippers and shawls from Nepal, her Aztec earrings, her Texan cowboy boots.
A vision started to unfold in her mind.
‘Does Jenny sell these on the international market?’
‘Oh, no. She just finish her schooling in Australia thanks to Mr Kelly and—oh, here he is.’
Cara glanced over her shoulder to see Aidan Kelly bearing down on them and he didn’t look happy.
‘Mr Kelly. Bula.’
‘Bula, Esther, how are you?’
‘Better than you.’ The older woman laughed, presenting her cheek for him to kiss. ‘You look hot and busy. Need to slow down, Mr Kelly.’
‘So you say every time I visit.’
‘Still the same, though.’ The old woman gave a theatrical sigh. ‘You the only person I know who never get into Fijian time.’
‘Fijian time?’ Cara said.
‘The locals here move at a pace all of their own making,’ Aidan said with a brief smile. ‘We, in Australia, call it slow.’
‘It’s what people come here for. To chill out. Relax. Life meant to be enjoyed,’ Esther informed him.
Aidan’s searing gaze latched on to Cara’s. ‘Some people do that better than others. Haven’t you forgotten something?’
‘What—Oh, my God. You invited me to lunch.’
‘Which was due to start twenty minutes ago.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Cara handed back the beautiful pearl bracelet. ‘Thank you, Esther. Tell your daughter I think she’s a genius.’
Esther leaned closer and laid her hand on Cara’s arm. ‘Men never like women shopping. He will be okay.’
Cara wasn’t so sure and she had to stretch her legs to keep up with Aidan as he strode across the soft sand, completely ignoring the crystal-clear water that lapped onto the shoreline. She felt terrible for keeping him waiting and knew that, once again, she had mucked up.
‘I’m sorry I—’
His grim expression stayed her. The light banter around the word they had shared the night before was nowhere in sight. ‘You weren’t going to say that again.’
‘Except I seem to keep messing up with you and I can see you’re really upset.’
‘I expect people to keep to their obligations when they make them. Clearly shopping was more important than keeping to yours.’
Aidan saw her flinch as if he had slapped her and it made him want to find the nearest boxing ring. Maybe Dinesh would do a few rounds with him later on to help him work off some of his pent-up energy.
Knowing that on some level his reaction was over the top Aidan stalked off and absently listened to the squeak of their feet on the sand. When Cara remained silent beside him he realised that she had retreated inside herself and his frustration with the whole situation grew.
Stopping, he pulled her into the shade of a palm tree—the slow, rhythmical swish of the ocean behind him almost mocking his foul mood. ‘Dammit, why are you letting me push you around like this?’
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Because you want to think the worst of me and you’re right, saying that I lost track of time is just lame.’
‘But it happens,’ he excused, wondering what had happened to the rational side of his brain.
She gave a glum smile. ‘It doesn’t happen to you.’
He thought of his performance earlier at the conference, or rather his non-performance. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t sure what was happening to him, but …
She swallowed and his eyes dropped to the creamy column of her throat and lower to the brightly coloured sarong she had tied over her breasts. It hid everything and nothing, the carelessly tied centre knot making his fingers itch to tug it loose.
The warm breeze stirred the straight edges of her short hair. ‘What have you done to your hair now?’
She reached up at his unexpected question and fingered the row of tiny plaits. ‘A couple of the schoolgirls put a few braids through it while I wrote up my notes about the school. Here they are, by the way.’
Aidan took the two neatly folded pieces of notepaper and stuffed them into his pocket. How could he be angry with her when all she’d been doing was taking the time to be friendly with the islanders?