Ouch. ‘Thank you for pointing that out.’
He sat back, rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, still rolling the pen around his long tanned fingers. ‘On the subject of islands, though, it would be useful for planning purposes to know what you intend for yours.’
‘I can email you the folder,’ I said, determinedly keeping my eyes off his hands, off his mouth, off everything but his eyes and thinking instead of my research. My report was ten times the length of his. He wasn’t the only thorough one. Mine had pictures. Maps. Links. Even a glossary, which, come to think of it, his could have done with.
‘An outline will do.’
Would it? I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t told anyone the full extent of my dreams. Not even Seb. They were so personal, so fragile. On the other hand, how could Nick help with the implementation of my plans if I didn’t share the details with him? Might he have some advice? He did own an island himself, after all.
‘Promise you won’t laugh?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘You may well think I’m overreaching and question my sanity. Even I swing between convincing myself it’s the best idea on the planet to wondering what on earth I think I’m doing when I’m anything but an expert.’
‘I promise I won’t laugh.’
‘All right,’ I said, mentally crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, which was basically Nick listening and absorbing and not responding with disbelieving scorn. ‘So, as I mentioned when I was here last, one of the areas I’m interested in exploring is the revival of coral reefs. Quite apart from being an important ecosystem for underwater life, they protect shorelines from the effects of hurricanes. They provide millions of people with a crucial source of income. Did you know that the tiny animals that build them offer the potential to develop new drugs to treat disease?’
‘I did not.’
I scoured his expression for signs of disdain, but could see none, so judged it safe to continue. ‘No, well, it’s a little-known fact,’ I said. ‘Anyway, because of overfishing, pollution, oceanic acidification, not to mention general man-made destruction, the reefs could disappear within thirty years. But it doesn’t have to be terminal. Marine protected areas—sort of giant national parks in the ocean—can help make reefs healthier and more resilient. And genetics are important too. One day, scientists might be able to develop coral that can cope with the marine conditions and restore the reefs.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ I said, warming to my theme. ‘But mainly, though, my interest lies in the hawksbill turtle. I saw one once in the Great Barrier Reef and it was love at first sight. They’re magnificent creatures. Their shells are exquisite. I’ve made a study of them. They help maintain the health of the reef. They use their pointy beaks to feed on the sponges that feed off the reef’s surface. They’ve been around for the last hundred million years, but over the last century their population has declined by four fifths. There are only eight thousand left. This is not good, I think you’ll agree, and I’d like to set up a breeding programme to increase their numbers. Ideally, I’d buy a landmass that came with a reef and the potential to achieve all this as well as recruit the necessary personnel. So there you have it. Those are my plans, in a nutshell.’
I stopped and waited for a response, but Nick didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was staring at my mouth in much the same way I’d been staring at his earlier. His eyes were dark and a faint frown creased his brow. He couldn’t possibly have been distracted by my impassioned speech as I had when he’d been talking about financial products, could he? No. The idea of it was absurd. Whatever he was doing, he wasnotentertaining thoughts of kissing me. I probably had something stuck in my teeth—yet another cause for disapproval, no doubt.
‘Nick.’
He blinked and gave his head a quick shake. ‘What?’
‘Are you even listening?’
He shifted in his seat, as if trying to ease some kind of discomfort and, with a faint wince, pulled his seat forward and rested his elbows on the desk. ‘Of course I’m listening,’ he said, his voice a little gruff. ‘Coral reefs and hawksbill turtles. Marine protection areas and breeding programmes. Quite a departure from stationery.’
‘Stationery has never been my passion. It’s hard to get excited about paper-clip orders and A3 supply issues. Tropical waters, and what lives in them, on the other hand, have been something of an obsession of mine ever since I learned how to dive with my father. I even studied marine biology once upon a time.’
‘I remember.’
‘The fact that I didn’t get to finish my degree is something I’d like to rectify,’ I said. ‘If I can get back on a course, that is. It’s been a long time. My studying skills are rusty and it’s entirely possible I wouldn’t be intellectually up to it. But I’m willing to give it a shot.’
‘You’d be more than intellectually up to it.’
I sat back, momentarily stunned. ‘Is that a compliment?’
‘No. It’s a fact,’ he countered. ‘And here’s another. You didn’t have to quit in the first place.’
In response to that, my eyebrows shot up and my jaw dropped. What on earth was he talking about? At the time, Nick had been off forging his own future but he’d known full well what was going on in the Huntington-Smith world. Thanks to the tabloids, everyone had.
‘Of course I did,’ I said flatly. ‘I had no means of funding the course and a six-figure credit-card debt to pay off.’
‘You could have accepted my money.’
‘Well, yes, in theory I could have, I suppose,’ I conceded, although back then, with my entire life crumbled to dust, I’d been in no fit state to do anything. ‘But I would still have had to pay it back. You or the bank. It made no difference. I would have had to get a job to pay the bills either way.’
‘You wouldn’t have had to pay it back.’