Hiring Cupid

Excerpt:
He was exactly right for the job.

Dressed in a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest blatantly delineating a muscular torso and biceps, his long jean clad legs struggled to be contained in the small seating area. His slightly longer than fashionable hair with its smattering of gray tingeing his temples gave him a distinguished aura—though the unruly curl that constantly fell forward made Carly want to reach up and flick it—and of course let her fingers run through it at the same time.

Hold that thought.

And she did, and held his hand—as if her life depended on it. Well it did—sort of. At least it did if she wasn’t to look a fool in front of her friends. She’d already resigned herself to going through with the charade. She would grit her teeth and smile sweetly if it meant once and for all she would get them off her back.

There was one unfortunate snag. Trying to ignore the electric tingle ricocheting up her arm and the scorching heat careering through her veins every time he touched her was quite a different thing.

Carly shifted uncomfortably in her seat and managed to pull her hand from his, wrapping her arms in a protective huddle across her chest. Battling down her nerves, she chewed on her bottom lip and twisted away from Marco so she faced the small window. She stared blankly out.

One minute she was like a scared rabbit, the next she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and...oh heavens, this was way off the scale of sensible.

“Am I doing my job right?” he whispered in her ear.

Carly bolted upright. She tried to smile—and failed. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead and the silk blouse she’d donned this morning stuck to her sweat-dampened skin like glue. “Yes, perfect, everything is fine,” she lied and looked down at the broad hand that spanned hers again.

As the helicopter passed over the expanse of the gulf, Carly drew in deep, slow breaths to fortify her raging nerves and control her silent hysterics. She could cope with temporary. Couldn’t she?

“Okay people, we’re about to land,” the pilot’s voice interrupted.

Four days on paradise was about to begin.

Fifty metres ahead lay the island. Carly leaned forward and rested her forehead on the chilly glass panel taking in the beauty below. Luxurious verdant palms littered the foreshore and through the shift of swaying fronds she could see the outline of the four cabins.

“This is your paradise?” Marco questioned as he leaned close and stared down at the dot in the ocean.

Carly held her breath, letting it go in one long whoosh. She nervously licked her lips, then managed to find her voice. “The island is remote, accessible only by boat or helicopter. A generator will provide power and thankfully there’s running water,” she said feeling more in control with every passing second.

Control? Who are you kidding, Carly Mason?

“You are a mine of information, cara mia.”

She pulled back a bit, pushing herself into her seat to give herself some space from him. “You don’t have to do the cara mia stuff, yet.”

Marco shrugged. “Perhaps not, but it is the language of love.”

“Love?” she croaked.

“Si. We should practice.”

Oh, no. No. No. “Over my dead body.”

“That’s no fun, at all.”

“This isn’t about fun, Mr. Valente,” she countered.

“It’s not?” He gave her a teasing frown. “And here I thought I would have four days of fun, sand, and...”

“You’re playing a part, Marco Valente. Remember that. Acting. It’s not real.”

“Then, let us see how well we can act, hmm?”

Carly spun away, riveting her gaze back to the golden sands glittering under the full heat of a cloudless February sky. Oh, Lordy. This was going to be harder than she expected.

Remember it’s a game.

Carly remembered. Now, all she had to do was play the part and keep her heart closed. She had no time for foolish love games. Love got you nowhere. Her family was a prime example of love’s undoing.

Within minutes they had landed, exited, and the whirring beast turned to fly back to Auckland. Unsure what to do next, Carly hesitated.

“You are expecting your friends, si?”

“Of course. They’re meant to be here already.” She looked towards the first cabin tucked behind a group of palms, and frowned.

“Where’s the reception committee? There doesn’t appear to be anyone.” Marco’s cool voice dripped the obvious, making Carly grit her teeth.

“I can see that. Come on.” She walked ahead. “They must be up at the cabins.

But they weren’t. The first cabin was empty. And the next one, and the next. They were all empty. With Marco watching her, assessing her reaction, it sent a prickle of tension fluttering down her spine. “Do you think they perhaps joke?”

“Don’t be silly, of course they’re here. Well, I mean, they will be.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am,” she determined, though in truth, she had begun to harbor a nagging doubt. And it certainly wasn’t a pleasant feeling. She cringed at the thought and childishly checked under the beds as if expecting them to jump out and shout ‘surprise’.

A few minutes later Marco walked toward her with long strides, his muscles rippling under the taut denim. Carly pulled her gaze away. No time for that. “I think you may need to read this.”

He held out a piece of paper. She took it, mindful not to let her fingers touch his. Been there, done that and she didn’t want to do it again, though the flicker of amusement that crossed his tanned face told her he could read her mind, knew exactly what she tried to avoid. She opened the note.

“Carly, sorry can’t make it. Time for you to have fun for once with the sexy hunk you’ve been telling us about.” Her friends had signed it.

“How could they?” She re-read it just in case. Nope. Every single word was the same. “Blast.” She screwed up the paper into a tight ball and let it drop to the floor. “This is a nightmare. They can’t do this.”

Her niggling doubt had become a reality.

“You’re friends aren’t coming.”

“What do you think? Do you have to sound so happy about it?”

Marco’s brows rose a fraction and he held up his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, it’s not your fault,” she said with some contrition.

“I presume I’m meant to be the sexy hunk.”

“Sex doesn’t come into it. We’ve discussed that. This was a temporary assignment so to speak.”

“And I was the man you hoped to put on show to your friends.”

“You knew the deal,” she defended.

Her head dipped imperceptibly as a raging heat of embarrassment threaded its way up her neck and face. She wished the ground would open and swallow her.

“This is too much. This is way beyond the Richter scale of embarrassment.” She stomped across the sand, uncaring that her expensive shoes were filling with sand. “I’m thirty years of age and I had to hire a man as a companion. I’ve lied through my teeth, lied about having the most fabulous man on earth at my beck and call, a man who loved me to distraction. What a fool.”

“Not a fool, perhaps misguided.”

Marco stood behind her.

“Misguided nothing,” she said spinning round to face him. “Work is my life, Mr. Valente. I’ve no time for frivolity, and see, the moment I let my guard down, think maybe, just maybe I can join in with the gang, it turns into a disaster.” Carly turned sharply and gazed into the horizon, a hand guarding her eyes against the brilliant sunlight. “We’ll have to call the helicopter back. Where’s your phone?” She began to pace back and forth along the sand, muttering under her breath, annoyed she’d been stupid enough to leave hers behind. “This is ridiculous. I can’t stay here. So much for enjoying the delights of a tropical island.” Right now, she wanted to be off this beach as fast as possible.

“Stop!” Marco’s strident tone brought her to an abrupt halt. “I presume you don’t want to stay?”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as a bilious wave in the pit of her stomach threatened to embarrass her any second. “You do?”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “This island is paradise. Nobody around. Total silence. You look like you could do with a break.” His voice lowered and eyes narrowed so that she could no longer see their clear blue depths, no chance of reading his mind. He looked her over, head to foot in one long and very slow drift spiking her nausea to tsunami proportions.

“But we’d be alone,” she croaked.

“It’s a problem?”

Carly swallowed. She knew her protests sounded like some school kid, scared of her own reflection and struggled to pull herself together. “I take it you haven’t got a mobile?”

He shook his head. “Think of it as an adventure.”

“Adventure I can do without.”

“Suit yourself.” He turned to walk away.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable. We’re here for four days. Might as well make ourselves at home.” He turned his back on her and walked into the closest cabin carrying their bags, stopping at the doorway. “I’m accepting fate.”

“Fate. You say it like it’s a challenge.”

“Life’s a series of challenges and obstacles, cara mia. Do you run from challenges?”

Panic welled in her gut. “Four days!”