Chapter 1
Mila Watkin blinked.It couldn’t be.She tracked the blonde head of hair weaving above the mass of dark-haired Indonesian locals at the market, hoping her eyes were deceiving her.
They had to be.
No way on earth Vance Bradley would be on a remote Indonesian island without indoor plumbing, paved roads, or any modern conveniences besides a single bar and small medical centre.
It was way beneath him.
Heart pounding, she ducked into a fruit stall, greeted the owner, and peered out into the square.
Stylish beach-blond hair, a too-perfect nose, aqua polo shirt to bring out the blue in his eyes, pressed beige linen slacks and boater shoes.
Yep, it was definitely him.
Her chest tightened, and she exhaled.
What was he doing here?
Though she wanted to believe he’d travelled all this way from Sydney to beg her forgiveness, and profess his undying love, she wasn’t delusional.
Not anymore.
Not since she’d caught him in bed with another woman.
Bastard.
“Is something wrong, Mila?”Ibu Minar asked in Indonesian.
Mila jumped and looked down at the older woman who owned the stall.“I’m not sure.”As she watched, Pak Agus, the man who controlled the island, joined her ex-fiancé.They smiled and shook hands as if they were best friends.Agus was dressed in a similar style to Vance, which would have appealed to Vance’s snobbery.
Money didn’t buy you class.
Concern filled her.How on earth did Vance know the smuggler?More than likely, Agus had made it a point to introduce himself when word reached him that a rich white man had arrived on the island.
But if Vance was looking for her, he could have told Agus things about Mila that she’d gone to great lengths to hide from Agus.
She had avoided Agus since she’d gone through the obligatory meeting with him when she’d arrived.He liked to know who was on his island and had questioned her extensively about her background.His far too casual body language had triggered her wariness.Years of her mother picking out those most likely to cause trouble whenever they went out had rubbed off and Mila had kept quiet about the fact her mother was a major-general in the army and her father owned a very successful business back home in Sydney.Instead, she’d played the role of the backpacker trying to find herself.
Which wasn’t far from the truth.
“Oh, there is Pak Agus!”Ibu Minar waved and called out, “Pak, please try one of my rambutans.”
Mila winced, but it was too late to hide.Agus turned and spotted her.He tapped Vance on the shoulder and pointed.
Damn it.
“Mila!”Vance cried, and several people in the square turned to look.Foreigners weren’t common here as Pulau Tengah wasn’t set up for tourism.Usually only die-hard surfers ventured all this way looking for the perfect wave.
It was one reason Mila was here—to teach the locals English so they could expand into tourism.
Mila moved out of the stall, not wanting to get stuck in a confined space.“Vance.What are you doing here?”
He grinned that bright smile of his which she’d once thought was charming.“Looking for you, of course.”He smiled at Ibu Minar and pulled out a ten dollar note, handing it to her.“I’ll have some of those.”
Ibu glanced at Agus who translated for her and told her he would convert the note into rupiah for her, and then she pocketed the money and happily bagged the rambutan.
Vance liked to splash money about, but hadn’t even taken the time to get the correct currency.His apparent generosity had appealed to her until she’d realised he’d only done it when he’d had an audience.
