The way she looked at him, there was a pause in the air, so much deeper than when he switched off the helicopter earlier.It was as if the world was holding its breath, allowing him the rare chance to see the differing flecks of light that reflected in her eyes, along with her earthly beauty and intelligence all within one beat of his heart.
‘I have a hat you can use.’He cleared his throat, stepping back from her.‘Stop your hair getting in your face.’
‘I have one in my bag at the house.Normally I bring it with.’She tucked her hair behind her ears, all neat and compact, there was no fuss about her.Yet he couldn’t help but fuss over her.
‘I’ll dig out my spare cap from under the pilot’s seat.But first, let’s go find the old pirate.’He led her down the path, past the rows of old boats and rusty Toyotas aiming for the odd-looking fence made of long panels of aged, corrugated iron, standing upright like soldiers.
Romy seemed to hesitate.
‘Come along, shortcake.You’re gonna love this place.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
At the double wooden doors, the sunburnt paint peeled in curls, the brass handle warm as he pushed the doors open.‘Looks are deceiving in this place.’He beckoned her with his crooked finger.
She rushed after him, her brief run as cute as she was.‘What is this place?’
Through the tall double doorway, they entered a neatly trimmed lawn area, home to an ancient fig tree.Beneath its expansive canopy, assorted flowering orchids and bromeliads filled its thick network of branches, alongside strange trinkets and charms that tinkled in the breeze, reflecting the sun.
‘Smell that.’He inhaled deeply at the fresh jasmine, blended with hints of exotic florals, and the river.
‘It’s gorgeous.’Romy did circles in her boots, her neck craning up at the sky peeking through the foliage of the mighty tree that showed off the delicate varieties of some very rare orchids.She went to raise her camera.
‘Don’t.’He put his hand over the lens.Perhaps she should see the world away from the lens for a change.‘You’ll need the old pirate’s permission first.’
‘Oh, yeah, sorry.’She let the camera hang around her neck.‘Is this a farm or a pirate’s hideaway?’
‘I like to think of it more as the back entrance to a private crocodile museum.’Stone swept aside a cluster of glossy leaves like a curtain, to reveal a hidden treasure ahead.
‘It’s a houseboat.’Romy’s jaw dropped in awe.Instantly, her fingers gripped her camera, only to remember to let it be.‘Does it float?’
‘It is floating.’Admittedly, the river was hidden behind a sea of grass.A narrow boardwalk led to the old houseboat, which could’ve used a decent coat of paint.The wooden planks creaked beneath him as he followed their crooked path.
Romy followed.‘So why that patchy front gate?’
‘So we know where to park our cars, and where to start the walk along the planks.’
‘Is this where you goarr arr me mateyand do some pirate’s jig along the plank?’
He peeked back at her, glad to see that smile of hers.It was pretty.‘I may do just that, but only if I know you have no camera filming me.’
‘Are you camera shy?’
‘No.Well, my butt’s not.But I appreciate my privacy, Romy.’Hoping she got the message.
‘The NDA?That was you?’She stopped and pointed at him as the soft slosh of water echoed beneath the boards.
‘I told you it’s common in most workplaces.’
‘But I saw the way Finn nodded at you, like it was your request.And he knew all about me—’
‘Finn is a detective.Which gives him a licence to be nosy.While I like my privacy.’
Romy crossed her arms, tilting her head at him as if unconvinced.‘Most people who say that post their entire life on social media.’
‘I don’t have any social media accounts.’
Her eyes flared with surprise.‘Are you for real?’
