“So what would you like tonight to be?” Catherine asked.

Zack paused to consider. His eyes beamed a speculative challenge as he answered, “Whatever two strangers want to make of it.”

“Without a tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow I’m gone.”

Well, that was laying it on the line! “Then I’ll just take this one-night experience with the man behind the name,” she countered, pride insisting that his schedule did not affect her expectations from this blind date, which had been zero before she met him anyway.

Sexual invitation simmered back at her. “I wonder if you will.”

The Blind-Date Bride
Emma Darcy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

A BLIND Date…

Zack Freeman rolled his eyes at the idea of putting himself out for a woman he hadn’t seen, knew nothing about, and would never meet again, given the work schedule he had lined up.

‘She’s a stunner,’ his old friend, Pete Raynor, assured him.

‘Stunners are two a penny in my world. All of them relentlessly ambitious.’

‘That might be so in L.A., but this is home time in Australia, remember? Livvy’s sister is something else.’

‘Like what?’

His derisive tone earned a chiding shake of the head. ‘You’re jaded, mate. Which is why you’re here spending a week with me. A night out with a gorgeous down-to-earth Aussie woman will do you good. Trust me on this.’

Zack winced at the argument, turning his gaze to the soothing view of the sea rolling its waves onto Forresters Beach. They were sitting on the balcony of a house Pete had recently acquired—his getaway from the pressure of being a dealer for an international bank. It was only an hour and a half away from Sydney, the perfect place to relax, he’d told Zack, persuading him into this week together, catching up on old times.

They’d been friends since school days and had always kept in touch, despite their different career paths. Pete was geared to competitive risk-taking while Zack had sought the creative fields opened up by computer technology. He’d built up a company that was now in hot demand for producing special effects for movies.

But he didn’t want to think about work yet. Tomorrow he was booked on a Qantas flight to Los Angeles and he’d be getting his mind prepared for a series of important meetings, but today was still about recapturing the carefree days of their youth; eating hamburgers and French fries for lunch after a morning of riding the waves on surfboards and baking their bodies in the sun.

It had been a great week; not having to impress anyone or win anyone over. He and Pete had done all the things they used to do—playing chess, challenging each other to listen to their choice of music, drinking beer, swapping stories…just having fun.

He felt wonderfully lazy and didn’t want to give up the feeling. Not until he absolutely had to. Here it was, Saturday afternoon Down Under, midsummer, and the living was easy. He didn’t need a blind date. Didn’t want one, either. His broad chest rose and fell in a contented sigh. This was more than good enough for him.

‘Pete, I don’t mind that you’ve got a date with your girlfriend. Go out and enjoy yourself. You don’t have to look after me. I’ll be perfectly happy with my own company.’

‘It’s our last night.’

Pete’s unhappy frown pricked Zack’s conscience.

‘I can’t get out of it. It’s Livvy’s birthday,’ he went on, making it clear that Zack’s refusal to go along with the plan put him into conflict.

The week had been special.

Was he being a spoilsport, ducking out on sharing this last night?

Livvy Trent, according to Pete, was very special. He’d met her walking her dog on this very beach. She even had a head for finance, holding quite a responsible position in the Treasury Department and living here on the central coast because she worked two days in Sydney and three in Newcastle. This could develop into a serious relationship, which was fine for Pete who was getting close to burn-out and looking for more from life than a tight focus on the world’s money markets.

Zack was currently riding a high wave of success with a string of big movies featuring the special effects created by his company. No way was he ready to ease down from that creamy crest. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to link up with a woman who wanted any kind of commitment from him. Too demanding. Too distracting. Besides, he was only thirty-three. He wanted what he had achieved. He wanted more of it. Finding a special woman could wait.

‘I tell you, Zack, if I hadn’t got to know Livvy first, I’d probably be chasing after her sister,’ Pete ran on, intent on persuasion. ‘Catherine is a knock-out.’

‘So how come she’s available on a Saturday night?’ Zack dryly commented.

‘Oh, same as you. Taking time out. Spending the weekend with her sister.’

‘And I guess Livvy doesn’t want to leave her alone, either.’

‘No, she doesn’t.’ Realising he’d been tripped into the truth, Pete screwed his face into a hangdog appeal. ‘So help me out here, will you, Zack? Please?’

He really cared for this woman. Zack hoped the feeling was returned and Pete wasn’t being seen in terms of a good catch. Which he certainly was, financially. And he wasn’t bad in the looks department, either. He was shorter than Zack but his physique was good, no flab on him.

His dark hair was receding at the temples and he’d had one of those ultra-short buzz cuts, defying the signs of encroaching baldness. Definitely a testosterone thing, Zack thought, but it had the advantage of never looking untidy, not like the wild mess of his black curls, although he figured they gave him an artistic image which was probably helpful in his business.

Pete had always had a very expressive face, not exactly handsome, but likeable. He had an infectious grin and his green eyes could quickly radiate a mischief that invited fun. Zack knew his own humour was more quirky, challenging to a lot of people, though Pete had always understood it.

Dark, he called it, often adding that Zack had to have a dark and twisted soul to think up some of the special effects he created for movies. His olive skin tanned darkly, his eyes were dark, his teeth were very white—definitely a vampire in a previous life, Pete joked.

Whatever…on a surface basis, women were more drawn to him than they were to Pete. It was a fact of life outside of his control. He just hoped Livvy Trent would treat his friend right tonight—no roving eye.

‘Okay. I’m in,’ he conceded. ‘As long as you accept that if I find this Catherine a total bore, I’ll make an excuse to come home early.’

‘Done!’ Pete agreed, grinning his head off.

No problem in his mind.

Zack relaxed. Let tonight take care of itself, he thought, having dealt himself a ready bolthole.

A blind date…

Catherine Trent gave her sister a look designed to kill the idea on the spot. Stone dead. This weekend with Livvy was a much needed time out from men—one in particular—and even being polite to any male at the moment would be an effort she didn’t want to make.

The look didn’t work. It spurred Livvy into attack mode, eyes flashing the light of battle. ‘You know your problem, Catherine? You’ve been fixated on Stuart Carstairs for so long, you’ve developed tunnel vision. Can’t even see other men could be more attractive. And a lot better for you, too.’

So find me one, Catherine thought derisively, having done her own looking each time Stuart had strayed, then forgiving him and taking him back because there simply wasn’t anyone else she wanted to be with. Compared to Stuart, other men were dull, but this last infidelity went beyond the bounds of acceptability. For him to snatch a bit of sex with a graphic artist in her own office, a woman who worked on the accounts she handled…that was too bitter a blow to her pride.

This had to be the end of their relationship. The final end. All the sexual charisma in the world didn’t make up for a long, continuing string of hurts, especially this worst one, right under her nose. It was time to let go, time to move on, but to what?

‘I’m not up to a blind date, Livvy,’ she said flatly.

‘Well, I’m not going to leave you here to mope alone,’ came the belligerent retort.

‘I won’t mope. I’ll watch videos.’

‘Wallowing in escapism. I’ll bet Stuart Carstairs isn’t. Good old action man will be unzipping his trousers for…’

‘Stop it!’

‘No, I won’t. He tried it on with me, too, you know. Your own sister.’

Shocked out of her irritation with Livvy’s unwelcome nagging, Catherine shot a sharp look at her sister, unsure if she was speaking the truth or wanting to blacken Stuart’s character beyond the pale. ‘You never told me that before.’

A fierce conviction blazed back at her. ‘I’m telling you now. Get rid of him. Get over him, Catherine. He might have the gift of the gab and he might be a great performer in bed, but he only ever thinks of himself. You’re an ego trip for him. And every time you take him back you feed his ego more. Holding on to him is sick.’

Catherine frowned over these discomforting assertions. Was it sick to keep wanting a man who couldn’t be trusted with other women? Stuart swore she was the only one who really counted in his life, but was that enough to hang on to? Obviously she couldn’t count too much when he was hot for someone else, even her own sister.

‘I won’t hold on this time,’ she muttered.

‘Then let me see you take some positive action in another direction. Like partnering this other guy tonight,’ Livvy strongly argued.

‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘You never are. Except for Stuart Carstairs who continually does the dirty on you. You’ve wasted four years on a dyed-in-the-wool philanderer and it’s only ever going to be more of the same, him having it off with whomever he fancies, while you…’

‘I told you it’s over.’

‘Until he soft soaps you again.’

‘No. I mean it.’

‘Fine! So you should be celebrating being free from him, giving yourself the chance to eye off someone else.’

She was just like her dog with a bone. Catherine looked down at the miniature fox terrier sitting by Livvy’s feet and was grateful he wasn’t yapping at her, too. She did need to be free of Stuart, but in her own mind and heart first. Plunging into dating would only throw up comparisons that would keep him painfully alive in her thoughts.

In fact, Livvy had just spoiled her attempt to forget him for a while. Here they were, seated on the balcony of her sister’s apartment, overlooking the Brisbane Water at Gosford, idly watching the boats sailing out from the yacht club, feeling pleasantly replete from a fine lunch at Iguana Joe’s, during which Livvy had raved about her wonderful new boyfriend, Peter Raynor. Why couldn’t she just be happy with her own personal life instead of attacking Catherine’s?

‘This guy has been a friend of Pete’s since school days. Now that tells you he values the people he likes. He’s not a user and a dumper,’ Livvy ran on, relentlessly intent on persuasion.

‘Friendship between two men has no relevance whatsoever to how either of them view or treat women,’ Catherine tersely commented, wanting an end to the argument.

‘Right! So now you’re cultivating a negative attitude. Not even giving people a chance. And I might add Pete treats me beautifully.’

‘Lucky you! But I don’t want to be stuck with a guy I don’t know and might not like.’

‘You like Pete. His friend should be at least an interesting person. The food at The Galley is always good. It’s my birthday, and the best birthday present you could give me is to see you enjoying yourself without Stuart Carstairs.’

‘I have been. With you. Before you started on this blind date kick,’ Catherine snapped in exasperation. ‘As for birthday gifts, I thought you liked the bracelet I bought you…’

‘I do.’

‘…and the lunch at the restaurant of your choice. Wasn’t that birthday treat enough for you?’

Livvy’s eloquent shrug was apologetic but it didn’t stop her from turning the screws. ‘I just hate going out and leaving you alone, knowing you’re miserable. I won’t be able to enjoy the evening with Pete if you don’t come with me.’

Emotional blackmail.

But there was caring behind it, Catherine grudgingly conceded, and she didn’t want to spoil any part of her younger sister’s birthday. Livvy had always been a pet, her naturally happy nature making her a pleasure to be with. Their parents were away on an overseas trip, touring Canada this time, so it was up to Catherine to make up for their not being here, showering love on their younger daughter. She thought she’d done enough but…would it really hurt to make the effort of being pleasant to a stranger tonight?

‘It would be such fun, dressing up together,’ Livvy pressed.

‘I didn’t bring dress-up clothes with me,’ Catherine remembered, not so much seeking an excuse but simply stating the truth.

‘You can try mine on.’ The eager offer was rushed out. ‘In fact, I’ve got a little black number that would look fantastic on you. It’s a jersey so it doesn’t matter you’re more curvy than me. It will stretch to fit.’

More curvy and taller. And their taste in clothes was different. Which was why they’d never swapped or borrowed. But what she wore tonight was not an issue, Catherine decided, as long as she pleased Livvy.

Twenty-nine today. Her little sister…who had her life more in order than Catherine had managed in her thirty-one years. Still, Livvy’s career in the public service carried minimal stress and steady promotion, given a reasonable level of performance. The advertising world was far more cut-throat and Catherine spent most of her working days living on the edge.

Different lives, different needs, different natures, different…even in looks.

Livvy’s hair had been very blond in her childhood and she’d kept it blond with the help of a good hair-dresser. She kept it short, too, its thick waves cleverly cut and styled to ripple attractively to just below her ears. Having inherited their father’s Nordic blue eyes and skin that tanned to a lovely golden honey, she always looked sunny and vibrantly alive.

Dark and intense were the words more often attached to Catherine. Her hair was a very deep rich brown, as wavy as Livvy’s but worn long. There never seemed to be time in her life for regular hair-dresser appointments. Currently it fell to below her shoulder-blades. Luckily she only had to wash it for it to look reasonably good.

Her eyes were more amber than brown, like their mother’s, but her eyebrows and lashes were almost black, giving them a dark look. The only feature she’d inherited from their father was height. She was a head taller than Livvy who had his colouring but their mother’s more petite figure.

Different to each other but family nonetheless.

Close family.

And Catherine liked to see Livvy happy.

‘Okay, I’ll go with you. But I’m taking my own car so if Pete’s friend is a total disaster I can come home by myself whenever I like.’

Sheer delight lit up Livvy’s pretty face.

Yes, it was worth the effort, Catherine thought, and resigned herself to sharing an evening with a man who would probably bore her to death.

A blind date…

She looked down at the little black and white fox terrier, sleeping blissfully at Livvy’s feet. He’d been called Luther after Martin Luther King who’d done all he could to integrate the black and white races in America.

Bringing people together.

Catherine smiled at the dog who’d certainly brought her sister and Pete together. Maybe she needed a dog in her life. It was surely a better means of meeting men than Livvy’s current plot. Bound to provide more lasting and devoted company, too. A steadfast, uncomplicated love.

Yes.

She’d give up Stuart and buy herself a dog.

A much better solution to her problems than a blind date.

CHAPTER TWO

PETE insisted they set off at a quarter to eight, even though it was barely a ten-minute drive around the coast to the beach town of Terrigal where they were dining in style tonight. Livvy and Catherine were to meet them at the restaurant at eight, which probably meant anything up to an hour later. Zack had little faith in female punctuality, particularly with social evenings. Still, the less time he had to spend with his blind date, the better.

Terrigal was a prettier beach than Forresters with its row of Norfolk Pines lining the foreshore, but it was tame in comparison with none of the wild, dangerous surf that stirred the sense of primitive elements at play. This was a highly civilised beach; calm water, smooth sand, edged by lawns, a large resort hotel and many fashionable boutiques and restaurants. A yuppie place, not a getaway, Zack thought, glad that Pete had chosen to buy a house on an untamed shoreline.

The restaurant they were heading for was called The Galley, built above the sailing club on the other side of town and facing towards the Haven, a sheltered little bay where yachts rode at anchor. The main street traffic was heavy and slow. By the time they got through it and reached the parking area adjacent to The Galley, it was precisely eight o’clock.

Drinks at the bar coming up, Zack anticipated. He watched a zippy red convertible coming down the incline to the car park as Pete was collecting a celebratory bottle of Dom Perignon from the back seat of his beloved BMW. Had to be a Mazda MX-5, Zack decided, and was surprised to see two women occupying the open front seats. It was the kind of car guys would cruise in. Women were always worried about their hairstyles being blown awry.

‘Told you they’d be on time,’ Pete crowed, nodding to the car Zack was watching. ‘That’s Catherine driving.’

A long-haired brunette. The blonde in the passenger seat had to be Livvy. ‘Is it her car?’ he asked, finding himself interested by the unexpected.

‘Yes. Livvy calls it Catherine’s rebellion.’

‘Against what?’

Pete shrugged. ‘Being a woman, I guess.’

Zack rolled his eyes at him. ‘You mean I’m about to be faced with a raging feminist.’

The answering grin was unrepentant. ‘More a femme fatale. Just watch your knees. They might buckle any minute now.’

Not a chance, Zack thought.

She parked the convertible right at the end of the row of cars, the furthest point away from the entrance to the restaurant. Ensuring it wouldn’t get boxed in, Zack decided, in case she wanted an easy getaway.

Which makes two of us, darling.

He and Pete waited at the BMW for the two women to join them. The black roof of the red convertible lifted from its slot at the back of the car and was locked in at the front. The blonde emerged first, waving excitedly at Pete. She looked very cute, wearing a clingy blue dress with shoestring shoulder straps. A pocket Venus for Pete, Zack thought, smiling at his choice.

Well, Catherine, strut your stuff, he silently challenged as a long rippling mane of very lustrous brown hair rose from the driver’s side, the kind of hair that would look good on a pillow, Feel good, too. A tingle of temptation touched his fingertips. He clenched his hands to wipe it away. This was not the time to let a woman get to him. So she had great hair. The workings of the brain under it probably had no appeal at all.

She turned to close the door and lock the car. Zack’s attention was galvanised. Pete hadn’t lied. He hadn’t even exaggerated. Catherine Trent was a stunner. Helen of Troy came to mind. Here was a face that could definitely launch a thousand ships. It seemed to simmer with sexual promise, aided by the erotic positioning of a deep pink flower over her right ear.

The tingle in his fingertips moved to his groin and there was nothing physical he could do to remove it. He tried willing it away. Impossible mission. She moved to the back of the car to join up with her sister and the full view of her was enough to blow any willpower right out of Zack’s head. Even his side vision was affected. Livvy Trent blurred. Only Catherine remained in sharp focus.

She had a mesmerising hour-glass figure, mouth-wateringly lush femininity encased in a slinky little black dress with a short flirty skirt that barely reached mid-thigh on long shapely legs that Zack thought would feel fantastic wrapped around him. She was tall—tall enough to wear flat black shoes, though they looked like ballet slippers with straps crossed around her ankles. Somehow they were erotic, too, more so than kinky stiletto heels.

His gaze leapt back to her fascinating face as she came nearer. A slight dimple in her chin, a sultry full-lipped mouth, straight nose, angled cheekbones that highlighted the unusual shape of her eyes, more triangular than almond, amber irises, glinting golden between their black frame of thick lashes. Cat’s eyes, he thought, but they didn’t conjure up the image of some tame domestic cat, more an infinitely dangerous panther, capable of clawing him apart.

And why he should find that idea exciting he didn’t know. Didn’t think about it. It just was. He felt something dark and primitive stir inside him, wanting to take up the challenge she was beaming at him, wanting her submission to the desires she aroused, wanting to possess every part of her until he’d consumed the power she was exerting over him.

A Class-A hunk, Catherine thought when she first saw Pete’s friend. Tall, dark and handsome with a body brimful of strong masculinity, his tight black jeans and the short-sleeved, open-necked white shirt showing off his impressive physique. Lots of surface sex appeal, but undoubtedly a bloated male ego to go with it.

‘Wow!’ Livvy murmured approvingly. ‘Pete’s friend sure measures up.’

Probably worked out at a gym in front of mirrors. Catherine was determinedly unimpressed, yet as they strolled towards the two men, a flutter started up in the pit of her stomach. It was the way he was looking at her, she argued to herself, assessing her female assets which, unfortunately, were on blatant display in Livvy’s dress.

She hadn’t cared earlier, even letting Livvy put the silly pink flower in her hair. It matched the spray of pink flowers featured on the black fabric of the dress, spreading diagonally from the left shoulder to the hem of the skirt. Livvy was into flowers in her hair this summer, using them as accessories to her outfits, but it wasn’t Catherine’s style. Not that it mattered tonight, except…she hoped Pete’s friend wasn’t seeing it as some flirtatious come-on.

On the other hand, if he wasn’t too full of himself, he was certainly attractive enough to flirt with. Though that could be a dangerous play. She wasn’t used to partnering a powerfully built man, and as she got closer, this man seemed to emanate power, the kind of big male dominant power that suddenly sent weak little quivers down her thighs.

Stuart was no taller than herself and his physique was on the lean side. His attraction lay more in a quicksilver charm than sheer physical impact. Catherine had always found eye contact and conversation sexier than actual bodies. All the same, she couldn’t stop her eyes from feasting on this guy. He had an undeniable animal magnetism that tugged out a wanton wondering about what it might be like to have sex with him.

Different, she decided.

Not quite civilised.

Dark and intense.

Like his eyes…now that he was looking directly into hers.

Catherine sucked in a quick breath as her heart skipped into a wild canter. This guy had it in spades. With one searing look he burnt Stuart Carstairs right out of her mind and stamped his own image over the scar. It was a stunning impact. Catherine hadn’t even begun to recover from it when she heard Pete Raynor start the introductions.

‘Livvy…Catherine…this is my friend, Zack Freeman…’

Another stunning impact.

She knew him. Or rather, knew of him. Who didn’t in the computer graphics business? Zack Freeman was already reaching legendary status for what he had achieved in special effects. He produced amazing stuff. And he was Pete’s friend…her blind date?

Very white teeth flashed a winning smile. ‘I’m delighted to meet you both. And I wish you a very happy birthday, Livvy.’

He offered his hand to her first—a perfunctory courtesy as Livvy thanked him—just a quick touch—then to Catherine, who found her hand captured by his for several seconds, making her extremely conscious of the warm flesh-to-flesh contact.

‘I appreciate your giving me your company tonight, Catherine,’ he said very personally, his voice pitched to a low, deep intimacy.

Her stomach flipped. She’d thought of Zack Freeman as some clever computer nerd with a weird creative genius, occupying some planet of his own. Yet here he was, right in front of her, so dynamically sexy she could scarcely breathe. It was a miracle she found the presence of mind to produce a reply.

‘My pleasure.’

His smile was quite dazzling, given the dark tan of his skin. He had a strong nose, strong chin. His eyebrows were straight and low, his eyes deepset, somehow emphasising their penetrating power. His hair was a mass of tight, springy black curls which should have had a softening effect, but perversely added a sense of wound-up aggression.

‘Nice car,’ he said, nodding to where she’d parked.

‘I like it.’

His eyes teased as he asked, ‘What does it say about you?’

She already felt under attack from him and instinctively she fended off the probe that was asking her to reveal private feelings. ‘Does it have to say anything?’

‘Cars always say something about their owners.’ He withdrew his hand and gestured to his friend. ‘Now take Pete here. His BMW says he’s made it. He’s solid. He likes proven performance.’

‘Right on,’ Pete agreed.

‘So what car do you own?’ Catherine asked Zack, wanting to learn something about him.

He grinned. ‘I don’t. If I need a car, I hire one.’

‘Don’t let him fool you, Catherine,’ Pete quickly inserted. ‘Zack’s a bikie from way back. He’s got a whole stable of bikes to suit whatever mood he’s in and whatever he wants to do.’

‘An open road man,’ she observed, thinking Zack Freeman had to have the kind of mind that would hate any form of confinement.

‘Like you, Catherine,’ Livvy popped in, all for encouraging this twosome.

Zack raised one eyebrow. ‘True?’

She shrugged. ‘I’ve only ever thought of my car as a somewhat impractical self-indulgence.’ She shot a rueful look at her sister. ‘Livvy’s the one who analyses everything to death.’

‘And I love her great sense of logic,’ Pete said with relish, beaming pleasure in her sister. He held out the bottle he was carrying. ‘Brought the best French bubbly to celebrate your birthday, Livvy.’

‘Great!’ She grabbed his arm, hugging it as he turned to lead them into the restaurant. ‘I just love your sense of occasion, Pete.’

They were so obviously happy with each other, Catherine shook her head over the pressure exerted on her to make up a foursome. She eyed Zack Freeman curiously, aware that he could probably snap his fingers and pick up any woman. So why had he agreed to a blind date?

She remembered Livvy’s argument, centred mostly on getting Catherine to rid herself of Stuart and open up to other men. Embarrassment squirmed through her at the thought that Livvy had engaged Pete’s help to fix up her sister and she was some kind of charity case to Zack Freeman—doing a favour asked of him by his old friend.

A horrible sense of humiliation forced her to blurt out, ‘Did Pete coerce you into partnering me tonight?’

He was slow to reply, possibly picking up her inner tension and musing over its cause. ‘I had no other plans. Pete wanted me to make up a party of four tonight and I agreed.’ His mouth quirked. ‘No regrets so far. But if you have a problem with the arrangement…’

‘No,’ she rushed out on a wave of intense relief. He hadn’t been told anything personal about her.

His head tilted quizzically. ‘You want to cut and run?’

Truth spilled out before she could stop it. ‘Livvy would kill me if I did.’

‘Ah! So she coerced you.’

Catherine took a deep breath, wanting to get onto some kind of equal footing with him. ‘It was more her idea than mine.’

‘Does that mean you’re anticipating pain with me?’

A nervous gurgle of laughter bubbled out. ‘Let me fantasise pleasure for a while.’

‘Good idea!’ His eyes twinkled wicked mischief. ‘I’ll do the same.’

He half turned, waving her to fall into step with him to follow Pete and Livvy. He made no attempt to take her arm or hand, for which she was grateful since she was super-conscious of his physicality as it was, and any contact would feel sexual after her blunder in linking pleasure and fantasy.

‘Livvy said you and Pete have been friends since school days,’ she remarked, trying to dampen the sizzle she’d unwittingly raised.

‘Mmm…going on twenty years. We’re still the same people to each other. You get to value that as you move through life.’

‘I guess you do a lot of role-playing with your work.’

He paused, slanting her a sharp look beneath lowered brows. ‘You know what I do?’

Would he have preferred her not to know? To pretend he was just some regular guy for the night? Was he sick of women climbing all over him for what he was?

‘It’s okay. I won’t blab on about it,’ she assured him. ‘I don’t think Livvy knows. I happen to work with graphic artists who are interested in everything you come up with—big discussions—so when Pete introduced you…’

‘You’re a graphic artist yourself?’ he cut in, an angry tension emanating from him.

‘No. And I’m not a user, either,’ she asserted, resenting the implied assumption that she might angle some benefit out of this meeting with him. ‘You’re perfectly safe with me, Zack Freeman.’

He gave her a long hard look that bristled with suspicion and she stared right back with fierce pride, finally earning a glint of respect.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,’ he drawled, his mouth taking on a wry twist. ‘You pack quite a punch, Catherine Trent.’

Heat whooshed up her neck and into her cheeks as sexual electricity crackled from him and zipped into her bloodstream. Catherine was appalled at herself. She never blushed. She might flush in anger, but blushing belonged to adolescence and she was way past that. A sophisticated career woman did not blush.

‘You’re not exactly harmless yourself,’ she retorted defensively, only realising it was an admission of the attraction he exerted after she had spoken. Not that it mattered. He knew anyway. Impossible for him not to be aware of his effect on women, just as she was aware that many men fancied her.

He shrugged. ‘Sorry if I gave offence. This is my week off from being the Zack Freeman. In fact, it’s my last night off. I have to go back to being him tomorrow.’

‘You don’t like being him?’ Was being so successful such a burden?

‘It has its rewards and I’m not about to give them up,’ he stated, determination glinting in his eyes. ‘But there’s a time and place for everything.’

And it was clear he wouldn’t enjoy being with some star-struck woman who raved on about what he’d achieved or tried to ferret out the key to his meteroric rise to fame in his field.

‘So what would you like tonight to be?’ Catherine asked, somewhat bemused by his wish to set aside the recognition that most men’s egos would demand.

He paused to consider. His eyes beamed a speculative challenge as he answered, ‘Whatever two strangers want to make of it.’

‘Without a tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow I’m gone.’

Well, that was laying it on the line. No future with Zack Freeman. Not that she had had time to even think of one or consider whether it might be desirable.

‘Then I’ll just take this one night experience with the man behind the name,’ she countered, pride insisting that his schedule did not affect her expectations from this blind date, which had been zero before she met him anyway.

Sexual invitation simmered back at her. ‘I wonder if you will.’

She hadn’t meant a one-night stand. Another wretched blush goaded her into being uncharacteristically provocative. ‘You win some. You lose some.’ It was a warning not to assume anything.

He grinned. ‘The game is afoot. And you can’t cut and run because your sister is watching and she’ll kill you if you do.’

She laughed, trying to lighten the effect of a charge of nervous excitement. ‘You think I’m trapped?’

‘Why did you come?’

‘To please Livvy. It’s her birthday.’

‘Then you have a giving nature. That’s a trap in itself, Catherine.’

‘Oh, the giving only goes so far.’

‘What would you take, given the chance?’

‘That’s a big question.’

‘And you don’t intend to answer it yet.’

‘That would spoil the game.’

He laughed, entirely relaxed now and enjoying the flirtation he’d fired up and was stoking with every look and word. ‘I guess we’d better join Livvy and Pete. They’re waiting for us on the steps.’

So they were, paused halfway up the flight of steps to the restaurant and viewing her and Zack with an air of smug satisfaction—the successful matchmakers congratulating themselves on getting it right!

Except this blind date wasn’t going beyond whatever happened tonight.

Remember that, Catherine sternly told herself as she walked beside the man who had every nerve in her body agitated, her heart thumping, her mind bombarded with tempting fantasies.

There is no tomorrow, she recited, meaning it as a sobering caution to be sensible. Yet somehow it had the perverse effect of inciting a sense of wild recklessness—a desire to take what she could of Zack Freeman while she could. To have him. All he’d give her. If only for one night.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE had ordered the three scoops of different ice-creams for dessert and was tasting them each in turn, sliding the loaded spoon between her lips, consciously testing the flavour on her tongue. Zack found the action so sensual, his whole body was tightening up. Catherine Trent was one hell of a sexy woman and the urge to race her off into the night and ravage her from head to toe had a powerful grip on him.

He wrenched his gaze away from her mouth and turned it out to sea. Their table was on the open veranda that ran the length of the restaurant and he’d taken refuge in the view several times tonight, needing to cool the desire that kept plaguing him. Was she as hot for him as he was for her? Would she go for it, given the limitation he’d stipulated?

One night…

Problem was, he might end up wanting more and that would mess him up. She was like a fever in his blood and he needed a cool head once he hit Los Angeles. It was the wrong time to meet a woman like Catherine Trent. She appealed to him on too many levels. He liked the way her mind worked, liked talking with her, liked having her across the table from him, watching her face, the expressions in her fascinating eyes, her body language.

She wasn’t a stranger anymore, though he’d deliberately refrained from asking about her life, keeping their dinner conversation to very general topics. She’d still got to him, more than he recalled any other woman ever doing.

Better to let her go, he told himself. What had she said…win some, lose some? He’d never liked losing, but he had a lot at stake right now. Winning what he planned to win in L.A. was more important than losing out on a night of sex which could get him too involved with this woman.

‘Do you think a full moon really does affect people?’

There was a full moon tonight, big and white, hanging in the sky where he had turned his gaze, but he hadn’t been looking at it. Catherine’s question drew an instant reply from Livvy who’d been bubbling with high spirits all evening.

‘Course it does. The word, lunatic didn’t evolve from nothing.’

‘Historically it is associated with madness. And romance,’ Pete chimed in.

‘Which could be considered a form of madness,’ Zack observed dryly, looking back at Catherine, hoping she wasn’t nursing romantic thoughts about him.

It simply wasn’t on.

Yet the pull of her attraction was very strong.

‘I was just wondering…’ The musing little smile on her lips had his gut contracting with the desire to kiss her. ‘…how connected are we to the physical world? We get irritated when it’s windy. Sunshine tends to make us smile. The moon regulates the tides, so when it’s at full strength like this, does it tug at things in us, too?’

Was she wanting an explanation for what she felt with him?

An excuse for it?

Something outside herself so she couldn’t be blamed for wanting what he wanted, too?

‘You mean like amplifying the feelings we have,’ Livvy said speculatively. ‘Making mad people even madder.’

‘Swelling the tides of passion,’ Pete rolled out, relishing that idea and proceeding to banter with Livvy about possible lunar effects on human behaviour.

‘Don’t forget animals,’ Zack inserted after a while. ‘Why do wolves howl at a full moon?’

‘Because they prefer dark nights?’ Catherine suggested, looking at him with her head on a tilt as though mentally likening him to a wolf who prowled dark places.

‘Or maybe it’s part of the mating game,’ he couldn’t resist saying.

Her thick lashes lowered, veiling the expression in her eyes, though not before he glimpsed a vulnerability to the mating they could share.

Temptation bit into his resolution to let her go.

She wanted him. He wanted her. Where was the harm in a one-night stand? It wasn’t as though she was an inexperienced woman. Late twenties, he guessed, and given her face and figure, had probably been fending off or taking on guys since her mid-teens.

Her long throat moved in a convulsive little swallow. Dry-mouthed from the heat coursing through her? The low V-neckline of her dress pointed into the valley between her breasts, shadowed by the soft swell of lush feminine flesh on either side. He wanted to fill his hands with her, wanted to…

‘Coffee, anyone?’

The waiter deftly removed the emptied dessert plates as choices were made around the table.

‘Short black,’ Catherine said,

Strong and dark, Zack thought, which was how he wanted it, too. ‘The same for me.’

He didn’t hear what the others ordered. The waiter departed. Pete suggested they walk on down the hill to the Crowne Plaza after they’d finished their coffee, disco the rest of the night away. Livvy applauded the idea. Catherine smiled at her sister but said nothing, waiting for Zack’s reaction with no persuasion from her either way.

Hours of ear-blasting music and hot, sweaty dancing didn’t appeal to Zack. Nor did a long sexual tease with Catherine that promised without delivering. She had burned him enough tonight. If there was to be any action between them, it was now or never, he decided.

Her choice.

‘I hope you’ll all excuse me—you, particularly, Catherine…’ He offered her a rueful smile. ‘I wasn’t planning on a late night tonight. I have a car calling at seven-thirty in the morning to take me to the airport. I’ve enjoyed the evening very much but…’

‘You don’t want to be a total wreck tomorrow,’ she finished for him, smiling her understanding and with more than a hint of relief in her eyes.

Off the hook?

‘I won’t cut into your plan of action, Pete,’ he directed to his old friend. ‘I can call a taxi from here and the three of you can…’

‘No need for a taxi,’ Catherine cut in. ‘I can drive you back to Forresters Beach on my way home.’

Excitement zipped through his veins. Opportunity had just been opened up. Was it deliberate, decisive, or merely flirting with a chance she might take? ‘Thank you,’ he said, anticipation surging into a storm of desire at the thought of being alone with her.

She looked at her sister. ‘That’s okay with you, isn’t it, Livvy? Pete will bring you home after the disco?’

‘Absolutely,’ Pete agreed, happy to have Livvy to himself.

Her sister heaved a sigh and looked from Catherine to Zack, clearly exasperated by this abrupt end to their foursome. It wasn’t what she’d planned but the decision had already been taken out of her hands.

Zack smiled at her. ‘May I say it’s been a delight to meet you, Livvy. You and Pete have yourself a ball tonight.’

‘Hey! And wake me for a coffee with you before you leave in the morning, Zack,’ Pete demanded.

‘Will do.’

‘You don’t have to go home this early, Catherine,’ Livvy pressed, frowning at her sister. ‘It will only take ten minutes to drop Zack off at Forresters Beach…’

‘I don’t want you watching out for me at a disco,’ she stated firmly. ‘You and Pete should feel free to have fun together. It’s your birthday.’

And that might be the straight truth of it, Zack cautioned himself. Being at a disco without a partner, guys on a high trying to pick her up…he could well imagine a fight breaking out over Catherine Trent…and that could be extremely tiresome if she wasn’t in the mood to play. With anyone else but him.

Conviction fizzed through his mind. She need not have made the offer to drive him home. She could have waited until he’d left in a taxi, then made the decision not to go to the disco. This was not a safe play. The chance was on.

Catherine beamed her sister a flinty look that said enough was enough and there’d be no forcing her to circulate in a crowded disco where she might or might not hit it off with some guy. Impossible anyway after being with Zack Freeman all evening. Though her impulsive offer to drive him to Pete’s place now had her stomach churning.

The move protected her from being thrown at more men, which Livvy had obviously intended once Zack removed himself from the field of play. It also protected her from any argument over her decision to leave since giving her blind date a lift home was a perfectly reasonable and polite thing to do in return for his company tonight. But it did mean she’d be alone with him in her car and when they reached Forresters Beach.

Would she be safe with him?

Did she want to be safe with him?

Livvy’s resigned grimace set her free to do whatever she liked and Pete was obviously not troubled by their party being cut in half. He’d done what had been requested of him, supplying Zack for Livvy’s sister, and if the two of them went off together, that was fine by him. He had the woman he wanted still at his side.

The coffee arrived.

She hoped its hot bitterness would sober her up. Not from alcohol. She’d only drunk one glass of champagne. It was Zack Freeman’s affect on her that needed diluting down to something manageable. He was like a magnet, playing a tug-of-war with every female hormone in her body. Never in her life had she been made to feel so aware of her own sexuality, as well as a chaotic craving to experience his.

He had the most sinfully sexy eyes, teasing, challenging, flirting, knowing and constantly evaluating the response he drew from her. He made her laugh. He made her smile. He made her tingle all over. He was the intoxicant and not even the knowledge that he’d be gone tomorrow lessened the addictive power of his attraction.

‘So I get to have a ride in your car.’

She stopped sipping the coffee and looked up to answer him, her heart squeezing tight at the warm pleasure in his eyes. ‘A short ride,’ she said, reminding herself again of the brevity of this encounter.

One night…which was fast coming to an end.

‘An impractical self-indulgence,’ he drawled softly.

For a stomach-clenching moment, she thought he was referring to her decision to ride with him, whatever that might lead to between them. Then she realised he was repeating her own words about owning such a car.

‘You get wet if it rains before you can stop to get the hood on,’ she explained with a shrug.

‘But you don’t mind the wind in your hair.’

She smiled. ‘Nor the sun on my face.’

‘You like the feel of nature.’

‘Yes.’

He smiled. ‘An elemental woman.’

He made it sound intensely sensual, made her feel intensely sensual. She took refuge in sipping coffee again, trying not to wonder just how elemental he was and how he would look as nature had fashioned him.

The open-necked shirt had been tantalising her all throughout dinner, giving her a glimpse of tight black curls arrowing down his chest. His forearms weren’t hairy, their darkly tanned skin gleaming like oiled teak. She imagined his whole body would be mainly like that with a sprinkle of black springy curls in the most masculine places. The desire to know, to touch, conflicted terribly with the sensible course of simply wishing him well and waving him goodbye.

He wasn’t going to be in her life.

Except for this one night.

Pete paid the restaurant bill, insisting it was his party treat for Livvy. Everyone had drunk their coffee. It was time to go. Nervous tension gripped Catherine as Zack moved to hold her chair back for an easy rise from the table. She looked at the full moon as she stood up. Was this lust for him a madness that she would shake her head over tomorrow?

She didn’t understand it.

Was she raw and needful from Stuart’s most recent dalliance with another woman? But she wasn’t feeling any bitter hurt right now. It was as though all that was in a far distant place. Zack Freeman generated a physical immediacy that completely clouded anything else.

She was super aware of her legs moving in step with his as they followed Pete and Livvy out of the restaurant, aware that the top of her head was level with his chin, aware of the strength of the man and the weak little quivers running down her thighs, aware of her breasts straining against the stretch fabric of Livvy’s dress, aware of the flutters in her stomach where the yearning to experience Zack Freeman was strong and deep and beyond any mental control.

Pete decided to drive down to The Crowne Plaza and have his car parked at the hotel for an easy pickup when he and Livvy had had enough of the disco. They said their goodnights at his BMW and Catherine and Zack watched them drive off before moving on to the end of the car park where her red convertible was waiting for them.

‘Do you like to dance?’ Zack asked as they strolled along.

He wasn’t touching her, merely walking beside her, but Catherine barely found breath enough to answer, ‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry if you feel you’re missing out.’

She shook her head.

‘For me it would have been more of a torture than a pleasure.’

The wry statement drew her into glancing at him.

His eyes caught hers and delivered their own searing meaning as he elaborated. ‘I would have wanted more than the touching permissable on a public dance floor, Catherine.’

She wrenched her gaze from his as heat whooshed through her entire body. The direct acknowledgment of the desire he was feeling for her left no way of dismissing it as possible fantasy. It was real. And it was vibrantly alive, pulsing through her, arousing eager responses that clamoured for expression.

Her mind tried to over-ride them. She didn’t do one-night stands. She believed that casual sex diminished what should be really special to a relationship that shared far more than just sex. Men were different, she’d told herself, having excused Stuart’s infidelities as meaningless rushes of testosterone. But she’d never felt so sexually connected to a man before, not even with Stuart at his charismatic best.

She fumbled in her evening bag for the car keys. Just a short ride and this…this raging temptation…would be over. Unlock the car, get in and drive Zack Freeman to Forresters Beach. He would fly away tomorrow and she’d come down to earth with a big thump if she strayed from what she believed in tonight.

But what if she never felt like this again?

Was she passing up a once-in-a-lifetime experience?

Would she always wonder?

Her fingers found the car key, curled around it, brought it out. Her hand trembled as she pointed the key at her car and pressed the remote control button to unlock the doors. Zack accompanied her to the driver’s side, intent on doing the courtesy of seeing her settled on her seat. She waited by the door for him to reach out and open it. He stepped forward, then turned to face her instead.

‘Have I embarrassed you?’

His eyes scanned hers with probing intensity, driving her out of her tongue-tied state.

‘No.’ She tried to smile but her mouth felt as wobbly as the rest of her. ‘I think the wolf in you was howling just then.’

‘And you didn’t want to answer?’

‘Wolves tend to keep to their own territory.’

‘They have been known to cross boundaries if the call is strong enough.’

He reached up and touched the silk flower in her hair.

‘It’s not real.’ Her voice emerged as a husky whisper.

‘No. But this is, Catherine.’ His fingers feathered her earlobe before sliding under the fall of her hair to the nape of her neck. ‘This is,’ he repeated, his voice a low erotic burr as he moved closer and bent his head to hers.

The drumming of her heart filled her ears, blocking out any last second denial her mind might have dictated. A light tug of her hair tilted her face up. She was beyond fighting this moment which shimmered with the promise of answers she craved. His lips brushed hers, stirring a host of electric tingles. Then came the tasting, a feast of sensual pleasure that was more seductive than any kissing Catherine remembered.

Her arms lifted and wound around his neck, her own hands thrusting into his hair, fingers driving through the thick mat of curls, pressing for a continuation, wanting to know and feel more. He scooped her body firmly against his and the hard, heated strength of him was imprinted on her, the muscular wall of his chest, rock-hard thighs, and an erection that instantly set a wave of desire rolling through her, inciting a wild, questing passion for satisfaction when his mouth invaded hers. Long, fierce, ravishing kisses…kisses in her hair, on her throat, shoulders, her breasts yearning to be touched, taken, her stomach revelling in the feel of his urgent wanting.

A burst of laughter jolted them both out of the wild compulsion to pursue more and more sensation. It came from another group of people emerging from the restaurant and heading for their cars. Zack sucked in a deep breath, one hand lifting to cup her cheek, fingers stroking soft reassurance.

‘I know a private place. I’ll drive us there.’

Her mind was too shattered to think. With quick, purposeful strides, he bundled her around to the passenger side, all his energy focused now on taking her with him. Catherine was still too tremulous to take any positive action herself. He’d already guided her into the car and fastened her seat belt before she remembered…

‘The key…’ It wasn’t in her hand anymore. ‘I must have dropped it.’

‘I’ll find it.’

He bent and kissed her, stoking the need that had been left hanging. She sat dazed by the whole tumultuous eruption of passion. It didn’t even occur to her that she hadn’t given him permission to take control of her car. He settled behind the driving wheel, flashed her a dazzling grin as he fastened his seat belt, switched on the engine, and they were off.

‘Where are we going?’ she finally found wits enough to ask.

Another white grin—the grin of a man on a winning streak that couldn’t be stopped. ‘To a place that was made for us, Catherine Trent…a place that will give us a night to remember.’

CHAPTER FOUR

A NIGHT to remember… The seductive words kept floating through Catherine’s mind as Zack drove through Terrigal, crossed the bridge over the lagoon, and headed along Ocean Drive Road—all familiar territory to her, yet nothing felt familiar on this journey with Zack Freeman.

They hadn’t put the hood of the convertible down. She was closed in with him and he seemed to dominate the space inside the car, emanating an irresistible power that would pull her along with him wherever he wanted to take her. That was seductive, too, removing from her all responsibility for what happened. Except Catherine knew that wasn’t true.

She could still say no, though her gaze was continually drawn to the hands firmly wrapped around the driving wheel, hands in control, sure of what they were doing, and the wanton desire to feel those hands on her clouded any decision. So far he hadn’t done anything she hadn’t secretly yearned for. Why stop now? Yet wasn’t it risky, even dangerous, trusting herself to him like this?

At the Wamberal roundabout he took the road that led towards Forresters Beach. Catherine told herself it would be easy to stop this madness now, insist he drive to Pete’s place and say she didn’t want to take this night any further. It was the safe thing to do, just open her mouth…and lose out on having Zack Freeman as her lover for one night.

This immensely desirable man…

Even in profile he was strikingly handsome. And his aggressively male physique had a sexual power which stirred basic instincts she could neither ignore nor deny. More than that, every time he looked at her, his eyes seemed to connect to what she was thinking, what she was feeling…dark burning eyes, challenging her to acknowledge that the desire between them was real. Not a fantasy. Real and urgent and compelling. Every jangling nerve end in her body was still affirming this reality.

Whether it was right or wrong for her…was such a question relevant at this point?

She was over thirty. Thirty-one. And going nowhere with the man who’d monopolised her interest for the past few years. It was time to face the fact that Stuart Carstairs was a footloose philanderer and always would be. Zack Freeman might be one, too, for all she knew, but at least he wasn’t pretending to have fallen in love with her and he’d been honest about not holding out more than one night with him. This blind date did not have a blind end to it. She knew precisely what was on offer.

Well, not precisely. Her imagination was running riot, fueled by the feelings Zack had stirred in her. It might be a wild, reckless act to ride this tide until time ran out but she didn’t want to go home wondering what it might have been like. She needed to know there was something more than Stuart had given her, something she could look for in the future, knowing it was real.

The car slowed, turned into Crystal Street, the road to Pete’s place. ‘We’re going to Forresters?’ she blurted out, seized by the panicky thought that he had changed his mind, deciding she wasn’t worth losing sleep over.

‘No.’ He flashed her a smile that sparkled with anticipation. ‘To a little bay just past the headland at Forresters. You’ll see. It’s the perfect place for us.’

Perfect… He didn’t have any doubts. There was no struggle over any sense of right or wrong in his conscience. It was full steam ahead for Zack Freeman. And maybe that was part of his strength, part of his overwhelming attraction. He knew what he wanted and went after it with single-minded purpose.

They turned right at the end of Crystal Street. The car climbed a steep hill—the headland—went over it and down the other side, turning sharp left and coming to a halt in a large dead-end parking circle that was closed in by a nature reserve, a thick belt of trees and bushes cutting off any sight of the ocean.

Shadows from overhanging foliage put them in a pool of darkness. There were no other vehicles here. The sense of being very much alone with Zack Freeman sent a quiver of apprehension down Catherine’s spine. Was she mad to do this? Was she?

Then he was opening the passenger door, drawing her out of the car and into an embrace that shot a flood of positive responses through her body, swamping any chilling fears. He planted soft little kisses around her face, gentle smiling kisses, transmitting a pleasure in her that Catherine revelled in.

‘Do you have a rug in the boot of the car?’ he murmured.

She always kept a picnic rug there. More a rubber-backed mat than a rug. It could be laid on damp ground. Or firm, wave-washed sand. She could hear the ocean now, booming behind the trees, and the idea of a secluded little beach all to themselves misted what they’d be using the rug for in a romantic haze.

‘Yes,’ she said, and knew it was a yes to all that might ensue, regardless of how reckless it was.

Again he cupped her cheek, subjecting her eyes to an intense focus from his. ‘I didn’t come prepared for this. Tell me now, Catherine, do I need to use…’

‘No. There’s no risk. Unless…’ Did he have sex indiscriminately, whenever and wherever the urge took him?

He read her question and shook his head. ‘I’ve always been careful.’ His mouth tilted ruefully. ‘You’re the only woman who’s made me forget…momentarily…what intimacy can lead to.’

The power of his desire for her was exhilarating. The only woman… And he was the only man who had ever incited this compelling sense of need in her. A man of control, she thought giddily, a man she could trust to look after her.

He collected the picnic rug from the boot of the car, then took her hand, holding it with warm possessive strength as he led her onto a paved path that wound through the nature reserve. It stopped where the beach began. With the shadows of the bushland behind them and the full moon lighting their way, it was easy to see the boards marking sand-filled steps which took them down a long dune to the seashore.

‘Sit for a minute,’ Zack commanded, pausing to drop the rug on the step behind them. ‘I’ll take your shoes off.’

The first bit of undressing, Catherine thought, her heart thumping erratically as she sank onto the rug-covered step and Zack descended a couple more before crouching to remove her shoes. She hadn’t worn stockings or pantihose. It was a hot night. It felt even hotter as Zack handled her ankles, undoing the crisscross straps, his fingers sliding along the soles of her feet with each shoe removal, making her toes twitch from the sensitivity aroused by his touch.

‘Cramp?’ he asked.

‘No. Just…’

He massaged her toes anyway, leaving her speechless and breathless.

It was some slight relief when he handed over her shoes and sat down beside her to take off his own, which were casual slip-ons, no socks.

Rather than stare at his naked feet, she trained her gaze on the big surf which was crashing onto a circle of rocks, sending up spectacular sprays, their froth gleaming white in the moonlight. The rocks enclosed a small bay, reducing the waves rolling past them to small swells, a safe swimming area close to the beach.

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