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The way he’d been fighting against doing that all morning.
‘Exactly.’ She laughed that soft laugh of hers. ‘You have Petit Bec and Grand Bec, which I guess speak for themselves, and then the jagged middle-sized one is known as Bec Dentelé.’
That laugh did things to him that he felt it had no business doing. He tried to push it out of his head, but it was proving impossible. His senses were already on overload and he couldn’t seem to shut them down.
St Victoria was stunning, and loud, and vibrant. It oozed life and fun out of every bright, laughter-filled street, every evocative steel band, and every incredible view. And every bit of it reminded him of how Talia had seemed to blow into Duke’s, four years ago, filling his world with sound and splashing vibrant colour all over the dull walls of his previously black and white life. How he’d felt like he was being brought to life—when he hadn’t even realised he’d needed to be.
It had felt...right.
For possibly the first time in his life, he’d felt...if not love then certainly care. Tenderness. And although it had felt strange at first, he’d found himself quickly growing accustomed to it, liking it, even beginning to return it.
But then, without warning, she’d disappeared as abruptly as she’d arrived, and everything had faded to monochrome again in an instant. Only this time Liam had known what he was missing, which had only made it seem all the bleaker. All the emptier.
He’d be damned if he was going to let that happen again. He’d come here to take this new case, not to seek out old demons, but if he was going to have to face them here, he had no intention of letting them get the better of him a second time.
‘I seem to recall you once telling me that you can climb the Bec Range?’
‘Yeah, you can hike them easily enough, especially Petit Bec and Grand Bec, and the ridge isn’t too bad to cross.’
‘And lots of tourists visit for the hot springs.’
Too late, he tried to swallow back the statement. It felt too personal, too intimate somehow. A hark back to the conversations they’d once shared as a couple, when she used to talk about her home, and when they both imagined him one day coming to see it with her.
As though they’d really believed in that future.
‘Right.’ She swallowed hard, as if she was trying to shake the same memories. ‘But you have to be careful of the fumaroles.’
His mind latched onto the safer topic as he searched for something less personal to say.
‘So you get a few burns at the hospital, especially in tourist season?’
Her mouth crinkled up and he pretended that he didn’t notice.
‘You always have your surgeon’s head on, don’t you? Yes, we do get cases at the hospital. But there are some great guided tours available, you don’t have to risk life and limb to visit them.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he offered sardonically, wishing he didn’t overthink every statement she made.
Was that why she’d left him? Because he was always focussed on his patients and his career? And if that was true, why did he even care what she thought?
Why did he want to spin her around and ask her why she’d really put his name forward to her chief of staff? Had it really been about her patient? Or had there been a part of her that had wanted to see him again?
Because, however much it galled him to admit it, there was certainly a part of him that wondered. And he hated it that she haunted him in this way.
‘Of course, there are plenty of other places to visit if you’re nervous.’
Her wry voice cut through the air and he blinked, the cogs in his mind trying to recall the last part of their conversation.
‘Nervous?’ he rasped out.
‘If you don’t trust me not to lead us into any dangerous fumaroles?’
‘Ah, I see.’ He could think of being places with Talia that were a damned sight more dangerous than mere fumaroles.
And even though he knew she was teasing him—even though he knew it wasn’t a wise idea to respond—he couldn’t help himself.
‘I’m game if you are. Besides, you also promised to take me scuba diving on the reefs, and ziplining from the rainforest canopy.’
Her gaze turned to him, seeming to almost burn into him, but he could work out what she was thinking. Her dark eyes, the colour of the richest cacao, had often been an enigma to him.
