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He stopped and looked at her.
‘Is that what this is really about? The turtles?’
‘It’s all the same thing, Guy. This is about Le Bijou, and the fact that I would do anything to protect it.’
‘Including sleeping with me?’
She whipped her head round to stare at him, open-mouthed. ‘Are you really going to accuse me of that, Guy?’ she asked. ‘You think I would do this to try and change your mind? Well, thank you for proving me right. This was a mistake. I barely know you. And you’ve just proved you don’t know me at all. I thought you understood that this was special to me.’
He had the grace to look ashamed, at least. But it didn’t make his words go away. They couldn’t be unsaid. ‘I know that.’ He took a step towards her, but seemed to think better of it. ‘I’m sorry, Meena. I didn’t really believe that you would do that.’
‘But you said it.’
‘And I take responsibility for that. But I want you to know that I truly don’t believe it.’
‘Fine. I understand. Now, I think we should get off this island.’
She looked over at where her boat was tied up on the rickety old dock, glad that they had arranged to arrive separately. The last thing that she wanted was to be trapped in close confines with him for a moment longer. But, when they got to the jetty, Guy jumped down into her boat rather than into the cockpit of his speedboat.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHY HAD HE said it? The only answer he could give himself was that he had wanted to hurt Meena. He hadn’t believed what he had said, so what other answer could there be?
Which proved that she had the right idea, ignoring what had just happened between them and resuming their former hostilities. Meena was right. He wasn’t going to change his mind about Le Bijou. How could he?
But he wanted to. The voice at the back of his mind was too loud to be ignored now. He had wanted to build this development to erase Meena from his memories, but he realised now how impossible that would be. Even if every grain of sand on this island were removed, Le Bijou was soaked in Meena and in memories of their time here. There wasn’t enough concrete in the world that could make him forget her. Instead, he had made things worse. Made new memories, which were all the more unbearable for their freshness.
And he had hurt Meena. Over and over this afternoon, he had hurt her without even meaning to, trying to. He had hurt her when he had made love to her with no thoughts for the future, and no intention of dropping his plans for his development. He had hurt her when he had accused her of sleeping with him to push her own agenda, rather than...
Rather than what? He realised he had been so quick with his accusation, hurt at the way Meena had suddenly cooled towards him, that he hadn’t considered why she had slept with him. Or why he had slept with her, for that matter.
It was because he had wanted her so much he could barely breathe, he acknowledged to himself. He had wanted her as fiercely now as he ever had when they’d been younger. And he’d seen that same desire in her. Seen it overcome her hesitation and reserve.
He had loved her once. But that love had twisted and soured in him until he was the man he was now—incapable of having a relationship with a woman without hurting her. They had gone from perfection to disaster in the space of a breath, and he had no idea how.
But he knew now, more than ever before, that his decision to stay well away from relationships was the right one. How could he choose anything else, knowing what happened to the women that he got involved with? Thank goodness Meena had seen sense while they’d been lying on the sand on Le Bijou, because he wasn’t sure that he would have had the strength to end it if she hadn’t.
Being with Meena again was everything that he had dreamed about almost every night since he had last known her. But he knew that it couldn’t happen again. That he couldn’t risk hurting her again.
‘I don’t want to leave things like this,’ he said as Meena stashed her bags in the storage locker, the side of the boat bumping against the jetty as it rocked under their weight. Meena kept her eyes on what she was doing, though he had to wonder why it was taking her so long. She was avoiding speaking to him, of course. The answer was as obvious as it was unwelcome. Because now he had to say goodbye. Again.
He had no doubt that Meena would make sure that they didn’t meet again. She had all the information she needed for the environmental report. The turtle nest had been the last hurdle in the way of his development, and when she had excavated it and found it empty all his concerns should have fallen away as that final hurdle was cleared. Instead, all he could see was the grief that had creased Meena’s face as she had realised that there were no eggs.
He wasn’t sure which was worse for her. The loss of her fight against the development, or the reminder of the baby she had lost. But the pain had been raw and tangible.
The miscarriage hadn’t been just ‘her’ loss, though, he acknowledged. It was his too. With everything else that had happened in the last few hours, he had barely had a chance to process that information. She’d been carrying his child when he had left St Antoine. Even though he hadn’t known about the baby until it was already too late, he felt a wave of sadness for what might have been. Because he and Meena would have loved that baby. If he hadn’t left, if Meena hadn’t been struck by that motorbike, then they would be a family now. He could picture it as clearly as if it was real, and the loss of that life struck him with a painful intensity. His knees buckled and he sat on the edge of the boat with a heavy thump, feeling it rock beneath him.
At the sudden motion, Meena turned her head. ‘Guy? What is it?’ she asked, her expression so concerned that he wondered what was showing on his face.
‘Nothing...’ he said, but then hesitated. Because, if he left now, he was sure that he would never see her again. And if he never saw her again then who could he possibly talk to about the child and the future that they had lost? She was the only other person on the planet who shared this loss. Who could understand the alternative reality he was grieving for.
‘I was thinking about the baby,’ he admitted, and her face softened. ‘I can’t believe I never knew about it.’
‘I guess we have that in common,’ Meena said, coming to sit beside him. And he could see her point. He had never realised before that he had lost so much when Meena had lost her memories. So much of what they shared, what was important to them, was stored in one or other of their brains, each a backup for the other, and when half their collective memory had been wiped clean they’d both been left incomplete.
Meena, her hands tucked between her knees, her shoulders sloped as she stared down at the deck, said, ‘It’s only natural to think about it.’ And for a moment, she looked as if she didn’t hate him. And that lit up something inside him. Something he wanted to nurture, to keep alight.
‘I’m glad you told me,’ he said, realising suddenly that she had had a choice about that. She could have kept him in the dark and he would have lived his whole life never knowing about the baby they had made together.
