Trouble in Paradise (Romantic Suspense, Completed)

Chapter 6

The next morning, I braved the beach again, this time wearing sunglasses and a big floppy sun hat I'd borrowed from Kat. Which sunlounger seemed the safest? In the end, I picked one close to the water that gave me a good view of anybody approaching, meaning I could dash into the sea at a moment's notice to escape.

At least that was the theory. It went to pot when I fell asleep.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

This time, the voice that interrupted me was French, and I'm afraid to say I snapped. Why couldn't everyone just leave me alone? This was meant to be a holiday. A break. I wasn't paying good money to get bothered every five bloody minutes.

"Yes, I'm Callie. Yes, my fiancé left me three days before our wedding. No, I'm not looking for a new husband and, no, I don't want to go to lunch with you. Or dinner."

The man started to back away, hands raised as though they'd protect him from the obviously crazy woman sitting in front of him.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I was only going to ask whether you'd be interested in making an introductory scuba dive. We're offering them free today."

I put my head in my hands. Once again, I'd made a complete fool of myself. The story of my life.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's just, well, my mother seems to have been encouraging the hotel staff to play matchmaker, and I can't get any peace."

He gave me a wry grin. "Yes, now I recall. I did get the memo. I didn't recognise you under the hat and glasses, though."

Oh heck, there was an actual memo? Next thing I knew, my face was going to be plastered around town on lamp posts, like some bizarre take on a missing cat poster. I had visions of boys handing my flyer out on the street, nightclub-style.

The man must have seen the horror on my face because he tried to reassure me.

"I swear that's not why I'm here. Between you and me, you're not my type."

A couple of tears leaked out—I couldn't help it—and the man took a rapid step backwards.

"No, no, it's not you," I told him, trying to suppress a sniffle. "I just can't seem to attract the right sort of men. Yesterday, a man who stuffs animals for a living told me I was boring. What else is wrong? Am I too tall? Too fat? Is my hair the wrong colour? Come on, you can tell me. Please?"

He offered a look of sympathy and crouched down beside the sunlounger. "If you must know, it's none of that. For me, you're too female."

Oh. "Oh."

"You might want to ease up on the attitude a bit, but I can assure you, you're not lacking in the looks department. I may not be attracted to women, but I can still appreciate beauty when I see it."

That was the sweetest thing anybody had said to me in a long time. Why did all the good ones have to be gay?

"So you don't think I should cut my hair?" I asked, just to clarify.

"It's perfect as it is. Most women would kill to have hair that thick and shiny." He blushed a little. "I dated a hairdresser once."

I sighed. "So it must just be my personality. Peter said I should be more adventurous."

"Peter?"

"The taxidermist."

"Right." His lips twitched at the corners. "The taxidermist. In that case, why don't you come with me and have a try at diving? That'd be an adventure. There's a whole other world down there, just waiting for you to discover it. And now that I recognise you, I also know your mother paid for the deluxe activities package."