Get Charlie Noah

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

Ben sat on the sand a few metres from the water's edge. A warm, gentle breeze from the ocean ruffled his shirt. The sun had set through the jungle behind him and twilight was about to settle preceding darkness. Then he saw her. It was just a slight movement to his left and she was a long way off at the other end of the cove. He could just make out long hair blowing in the ocean breeze. Her silhouette looked stunning. He was sure she was naked. Ben turned his head and looked back at the water. He hoped she couldn't see him. It was an effort to keep his head from turning back in her direction. Then he remembered bits of the conversation with Doctor Pugh and throwing up in Macquarie Street. That forced him not to look back. He was surprised that Doctor Pugh hadn't prescribed drugs for him to take because obviously he had an issue with beautiful young women. In fact he acknowledged to himself that he had an issue with beautiful women generally and sometimes women who were perhaps not strikingly pleasing to the eye. The report from Doctor Pugh would confirm this. No doubt about that. Antidepressants killed sex drive so he had been told. Perhaps he would be put on antidepressant drugs.

All willpower was gone and he turned to catch another glimpse of her amazing body. She had disappeared.

Pamela Naughton slipped into a cotton gown and poured herself a glass of white wine. She was still shaking. A man was sitting on her beach. Admittedly he was a long way off but he was still on her beach and she wanted absolute privacy. Rick must have rented out the other pole house. He should have warned her as she had gone to great lengths to explain her need for absolute privacy. There was little doubt that the person seated at the other end of the beach was a male. He was solidly built with short hair. She wondered about his nationality and how old he was...instantly dismissing the thoughts from her mind. All the doors and windows were locked. She had ensured this was the case. He wouldn't dare come down to her end of the beach. She would have a word to Rick in the morning. He should have warned her although she had made it a point not to provide Rick with her mobile phone number, and there was no other phone in her pole house. It was well after 5 pm so there was no point ringing the dive shop. She glanced at the gas powered spear gun leaning against the bar. That gave her some comfort. As she sat back in the huge lounge chair with her glass of wine, she thought of the man sitting alone on the sand at the end of the cove. He looked so lonely. She was so lonely damn it! It had been such a long time since she had decent sex. A bloody long time and her body was aching for some attention from the right man. Pamela let out a tiny scream and kicked her legs into the air. Screw the man at the other end of the beach...she thought. No not screw him as in actually screw him...damn him for being there. She didn't need this kind of pressure.

Ben thought about the amazing silhouette of the woman standing at the northern end of the sandy cove. He poured a straight scotch whisky into a short thick glass and walked into the kitchen. Pamela. Not a bad name. Pamela who? Ben sipped his whisky. He didn't care. What the hell was he thinking? She didn't exist and he wasn't going anywhere near that end of the cove. He didn't care how hot she looked he wasn't going to lay eyes on her again and that was final.

Ben chopped up half a fresh chicken and seared the pieces in a spoonful of coconut oil in a large pan over the gas stovetop. Two minutes down and flip. He wondered if Pamela liked chicken. He hoped she was really ugly. He hoped that anything Rick had said about her was a total lie and Rick should be punished for even mentioning her. Rick should have a fight with one of his boyfriends or a decent car accident...well nothing too bad but just enough to get him to realise that he shouldn't have even slightly suggested that Ben have anything whatsoever to do with the woman living in the pole house at the northern end of the cove. Some people have no respect for requested privacy...no respect whatsoever. He poured chicken stock into the pan with a heaped tablespoon of hot curry powder. He wondered if she was hot in bed. Then he hit himself fairly hard in the side of the head with a wooden cooking spoon. It hurt but at least it took his mind off the woman in the other pole house.