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‘Sharks!’ She stared at him in horror. ‘Real sharks? With teeth?’
He laughed. ‘The sharks were real, so I guess their teeth were too.’
Addie gazed at him, open-mouthed.
Smiling, Malachi reached for the wine bottle and refilled his glass. ‘Don’t look so worried, sweetheart. I won.’
‘What if you’d been bitten?’
He gave her an infuriating smile. ‘I’m touched that you care.’
‘I don’t care,’ she said quickly. ‘I just can’t believe you’d risk your life over some stupid bet.’
‘I like to win.’
She glared at him. ‘Winning isn’t everything. And if you’d walked away what would you really have lost?’
He shrugged. ‘My pride! Look, they were small nurse sharks in a tank in a Vegas hotel. Honestly, I didn’t think it was that risky. All I really had to do was focus on winning.’
Then Teddy Chalmers must be more stupid than he appeared, Addie thought slowly. Malachi might be the most charming person she had ever met, but he was also the most driven. Losing was simply not an option for him.
He held her gaze. ‘I don’t make a habit of it,’ he said lightly. ‘But I was twenty-four years old and I’d spent the best part of a year playing poker non-stop.’ He breathed out slowly. ‘And with those guys everything turned into a bet.’
Picking up his wine glass, he swirled the contents slowly around.
‘When I finally came out here, though, it blew me away. Not the beach and the palm trees so much. But the peace—’ His mouth twisted. ‘There’s something so pure about the sound of the waves, and the breeze and the birdsong.’
Something in his tone made her hold her breath. She stared at him, confused. Birdsong? Since when had that mattered to Malachi? Her heart gave a thump as she wondered what else he hadn’t told her. But could she blame him? She’d hardly been open or honest with him, choosing to share only a carefully edited selection of details about her accident and home life.
Staring past him, she realised that they had never really known one another at all. That they had never trusted one another enough to do so. But why be so secretive now? It wasn’t as if it mattered any more.
She glanced back at his face. ‘I’m not usually a big fan of peace and quiet,’ she said hesitantly. ‘But this is the good kind.’
‘The good kind? What’s the bad kind?’ he prompted, his gaze fixed on her face, searching, curious.
She gave him a small, tight smile. It was so tempting to believe that he was genuinely interested. Had she not known him as well as she did, she might even have hoped that he felt more than just a physical attraction. That he cared about her. But she knew that for Malachi a confidence shared was just a weakness to exploit. Only given their situation, what was there left for him to exploit?
She shrugged. ‘I guess when I say “bad” I mean boring.’ Pausing, she frowned, her sudden impulse to be open faltering in the face of his dark, dispassionate gaze. ‘Which is what I’m being now, so—’
For a moment he stared at her in silence, and then slowly he reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘You might be a lot of things, sweetheart. Some of them are exceedingly challenging.’ He smiled slowly. ‘But I can safely say you have never once bored me.’
Her heart twitched, caught his smile like a fish on a hook. ‘It’s early yet,’ she said lightly.
He grinned. ‘Come on, I’m intrigued.’
She burst out laughing. ‘Fine. But it’s really not that exciting.’ She hesitated. Except that it felt stupidly exciting to be talking to him about herself. To feel his eyes on her face, not as part of some kind of foreplay but because he was listening, actually listening to her. ‘I suppose it’s being here. It’s made me think about the holidays I used to go on with my parents.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘To my aunt and uncle’s farm in South Dakota. Every year for years. In the mornings my mum and my aunt would sew, and my dad and uncle would fix things, and in the afternoons they would all play bridge.’
Malachi nodded. ‘It’s a good game. Old-timers usually play a tight hand.’
Addie smiled. ‘Not just old-timers. I play a pretty tight hand too.’
‘But you didn’t? Play, I mean? You said, “they would all play bridge”.’
She stiffened. No wonder he was so good at poker. He missed nothing. Every glance, every word, every blink was noted and examined and weighed up.
