I couldn’t sound more guilty if I tried.
Cam’s face breaks into a huge smile. ‘I was trying to ask if you by any chance brought some insect repellent?’ he finishes. ‘I forgot mine. And boy, do you need it over here, but it’simpossible to get hold of in the village. Especially the spray bottles.’
‘Oh. Insect repellent. Yes. It’s in my room. I’ll get it for you.’
Now I have the awkward dilemma of getting out of the pool without him seeing me. Ridiculous really, as soon I could be swanning around in a bikini for almost a billion people to watch on repeat for all of eternity.
I reach the steps and hesitate, plucking up the courage to just go for it, but Cam seems to immediately sense that I’m shy about him seeing my near-naked body.
He swivels around and goes back into the lounge. ‘I’ll just make some fresh coffee!’ he yells.
I find his thoughtfulness very endearing as I quickly leap out of the pool, grab a towel and scuttle like a crab across the patio to my room. One glance in the mirror at my wet hair and face tells me that at least the streaks of make-up have washed off, leaving me fresh and natural-looking. And because, out of sheer fear, I have barely eaten anything since I decided to come on the show, my stomach looks flat and toned. I throw the hospital gown back on as though it was a dressing gown, grab one of the small canisters of insect repellent and walk through the villa to find Cam.
‘You are a life saver,’ he says. ‘Thank you so much. Mosquitoes seem to love me.’
I’m not surprised.
As I hand it over, I glance down to see there is no wedding ring on his left hand. A small bolt of hope flashes through me.
‘I’m going to do some work on this dining table if that’s okay. And then I thought I’d cook us some dinner seeing as you haven’t eaten for days. Does gluten-free salad sound good? I’d hate for any mishaps.’
Ah, so he’s remembered my overshare. My cheeks flame instantly. ‘Does the salad come with roast chicken and chips? I’m starving.’
‘Chips? You would have potato chips with chicken?’
‘Ah, no. It’s the language barrier. Not crisps, I mean chips as in fries?’ I forgot about this huge cultural difference.
Cam seems delighted to have a roomie who likes to eat complex carbs. ‘Perfect. That’s settled then. About seven for dinner?’
‘Great. It’s a date.’
Not adatedate, obviously but I will simply make this worse if I try to clarify. A thought pings into my head as I make for the sun lounger. Do Canadians wear wedding bands on the left or right hand?
I’m halfway through my book when a splashing sound draws my attention. Cam has dived into the pool and is doing lengths. I peer over the top of my book to see him slice through the water, his arms are pumping, and his head is coming up for air every so often. It’s very impressive.
He catches me watching him and stops swimming. ‘I thought we could dine out here,’ he calls over to me from the far end of the pool. ‘What do you think?’
That would be very nice, is what I think. The sun is setting, the pool lights are beginning to twinkle, there are lights strung up around the garden and in the trees, and the table and chairs under the parasol will seem like the perfect romantic setting for dinner with the most attractive man I’ve ever laid eyes on. All we need is a string quartet and some wine for our non-date.
‘I’ll open a bottle of wine too, if you’re up for it?’ he says, as though reading my mind.
What. No quartet?
I nod enthusiastically before remembering I have only my hospital gown to wear; an outfit that will ensure nothing romantic happens. I will have to put any romantic aspirations firmly to one side until my cases turn up.
When I hear Cam getting out of the pool, I stare hard at my book so as not to look at him. It’s only when he disappears into the villa that I realise I was holding my breath. I am making this whole scenario much tenser than it needs to be. It’s not his fault I find him so attractive. And Lord knows he is not giving off any vibes that suggest he is feeling the same towards me. If anything, I have done my utmost to put him off.
I quietly slide into my room to get ready. After showering and drying my hair, I pile it up onto my head. Without the aid of straighteners, it would cascade wildly down my neck in one big frizzy lump, far from the sleek long choppy bob I arrived with. I have no make-up with me, so shiny cheeks will have to do. And after a few tries, the gown has become a casual wrap-over dress that goes nicely with the free slippers that were lying on my bed next to a stack of fresh fluffy towels when I arrived.
Cam calls through that dinner is ready. I step out onto the patio to find all the fairy lights are ablaze. It looks amazing.
‘Dinner is served, madame.’ Cam is wearing cargo-style shorts and a t-shirt. He has flip flops on and looks every bit like a dot com billionaire crossed with a model for surf boards. He waves his hand over the table which is set out like a five-star restaurant with gleaming cutlery, plates of sumptuous-looking food and candles that twinkle against half-full wineglasses. He pulls a chair out for me. A quick flick down reveals his right hand is ring-free too.
‘Thank you so much.’ I’ve had to look away in case my feelings are written all over my face. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions and, at the present moment, they are fluttering out of control. He is such a gentleman. He is such a single gentleman.
‘You’re welcome,’ Cam says, sitting down opposite me. ‘By the way, the cleaner came and dropped off some towels and fresh bedding in case you need any. Mentioned something about a terrible stain on your clothes. She's giving it another go.’
How embarrassing.
