He was, in fact, everything she wanted in a man; strong, amusing, protective, resourceful, intelligent.
Oh, she was in so much trouble.
“We should take some of the leaves, too,” she said, mainly to distract herself. “We can use them on the roof of the shelter. They’ll be much better than the palm fronds.”
Max dutifully collected an armful of the large, flat leaves, and they set off.
Caro was silent as they walked back down the beach, and it was only Max’s shout that finally snapped her out of her brooding.
“Hoi, come look at this!”
He was at the high tide mark, standing over a large brown spherical object. It was quite a bit larger than a coconut, and Caro smiled at his bemused expression.
“It’s a coco de mer nut,” she said. “I saw one in Madagascar, at the King’s palace. They’re extremely rare.”
Max tilted his head. “It looks just like—”
“—a woman’s bare bottom?” she finished with a smile. “Yes, it does.”
It was true. The twin curves of the smooth nut were separated by a central cleft that made it look exactly like a curvy woman’s derriere.
“You should see the other side,” she said.
“It’s not the same?”
She shook her head.
Max dropped the banana leaves and rolled the nut over, and despite knowing what to expect, Caro still felt a blush rise on her cheeks. The reverse looked just like her own rounded belly and thighs, complete with the triangle-shaped juncture where Max had touched her to such devastating effect.
Avoiding his eye, she adopted her most scholarly tones. “Because of its . . . er . . .”
“Erotic shape?”
“Unusual appearance, the coco de mer is thought to have mythological, even magical properties.”
Max grunted. “I can see why. It’s quite something.”
“Legend has it that the trees make passionate love on stormy nights. They say the male trees uproot themselves and approach the female trees, and because they’re so shy and secretive, anyone who sees them mating will either die, or go blind.”
“Well, that’s comforting.” Max said. “Let’s hope this one floated here from somewhere else. Even so, I’ll keep my eyes closed, next time there’s a storm. Wouldn’t want to be an accidental voyeur.”
Caro chuckled. Max’s relaxed attitude made it impossible for her to be awkward about what they’d done together. She supposed she ought to be feeling ashamed for having allowed him such liberties, but she couldn’t seem to dredge up an ounce of regret.
He insisted on carrying the nut back to camp, so Caro gathered the banana leaves and used them to improve the roof of their shelter. As the sun became hotter, she rested in the shade, half hoping Max would find an excuse to join her, but he took off around the headland, so she entertained herself by weaving palm fronds together to make a rudimentary sunhat.
If only she could read Max’s thoughts. Was he thinking of her? If he truly believed himself a down-on-his-luck stable hand, might he be feeling guilty for giving in to her seduction?
Or was she just one more woman in a long line of conquests?
She’d remember the feel of his bare chest pressing her down, the wicked play of his fingers, for as long as she lived, but perhaps men were different. He could well have already dismissed the entire incident from his mind. She wasn’t his first lover, after all.
Her heart gave a miserable little squeeze.
The heat was as draining and oppressive as her thoughts. She lay in the shelter and must have dozed, because when she awoke the sun was much lower in the sky and there was no sign of Max anywhere.
A flash of alarm caught her. He’d been gone for hours. What if he’d had an accident?
He wasn’t on the adjacent beach, so she stacked more wood on the signal fire and waved half-heartedly over at the other island. She was just debating whether to carry on when she heard a whistle and looked up to see him appear over the promontory of rocks at the far end of the beach.
