“Thank God for that.”

His mouth came down, and we lost each other to another sensual kiss. His cock stirred against me and the thought of making love on an open-air balcony with neighbours above who could look down at any moment barely restrained me from rolling him onto his back and straddling him.

So many times I’d done exactly that, pushing him into the surf, the tide lashing my knees as I rocked onto his body, my hands on his chest, my nails stabbing warm skin, and his eyes catching the final rays of moonshine.

We’d taken our islandic existence for granted. We hadn’t seen how special it was until it was too late.

I doubted we would ever go back.

Even though I would’ve given anything to return.

It’s funny how I’ve erased the hardship of the past few months.

All I could remember were the happy times.

Galloway shuffled me off him, his eyes flickering upstairs as the sounds of the sliding door opening alerted it was time to get dressed before we were arrested for public indecency. “Come on. Let’s go for a shower.”

I padded behind him, nude and not caring. Coco was young enough not to care about body parts, and she spent most of her young life running around naked anyway.

That will change now.

She would have to be more civilised. Go to school. Interact with others.

She was no longer completely mine.

Neither was Pippa.

So much had happened since she’d gone. I hadn’t had time to reflect just how much I missed her.

Her disappearance was almost as painful as Conner’s death.

How could I remain breathing after having two incredible children taken from me?

“I’m in love with indoor plumbing almost as much as I love you.” Galloway winked, slipping into a joke after dealing so long with stress.

I appreciated his lightheartedness.

We needed a laugh. To remember we were still alive and deserved to seize what we had left, rather than sink sorrowfully into the past.

My heart fluttered but not because of his flirtation or the thought of getting wet in the shower but because he honestly looked happy. He looked at home with lockable doors and humming refrigerators.

Maybe I was the only one missing Fiji. Maybe I was the only one stupid enough to want something as hard as survival.

Ever since docking in Sydney, I’d wanted to ask if he’d ever contemplate returning. If there were some small chance of making it work (where we didn’t die, had access to medicine and much-needed food)...would he be interested?

I wouldn’t be suicidal and return to our basic home. We would need provisions, upgrades, help.

But if we had that...would he?

However, following him into the bathroom and listening to his appreciative laugh as the shower spluttered with instant hot water, I swallowed my questions.

We were rescued.

This was where we belonged.

With internet and toilets and upholstery. With phones with signals, TV with entertainment, and electricity that heated, cooled, cooked, and protected.

Not there.

We were part of society once again.

And proper city folk didn’t crave untamed wilderness.

After all...we weren’t savages.

Chapter Seventy-Five

...............................................

G A L L O W A Y

......

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

“Can you get that?” Estelle yelled from the bathroom.

We’d finished our second round of sex with her hands on the white tiled walls of the shower and me driving into her lithe body from behind, all while we drank fresh water straight from the showerhead.

It was like having a rainstorm on command, only warmer.

I loved it...but something niggled me, too.

It was wrong.

Unnatural...even though millennium of evolution said it was normal.

“Sure!” Slinging a towel around my waist, I prowled/limped to the entrance.

I couldn’t see my woman, but I could hear my daughter. She squealed and the splash of her playing in the bath echoed in the bland apartment. At least, a bath didn’t have stonefish or sharks or things waiting to kill her. Coco would never suffer the same awful death as Conner or be eaten by an intruder in our bay.

There were so many positives of living back in society.

So why could I only remember the bad?

The smog.

The stress.

The backstabbing and lying and nasty behaviour?

Running a hand through my damp hair, I made a note to arrange a haircut so I didn’t get labelled a caveman and opened the door.

A strange woman stared back.

Her mouth fell open, her gaze dropped to my naked chest (skinny but toned) to my low hanging towel (I couldn’t get used to clothes, no matter how much I needed to wear them) then back to my eyes (that were now scanning her in the same way).

Curvy redhead with freckles (like Conner), dark green eyes, and lips painted a cherry red. “Um...did I get the wrong apartment?”

“I don’t know. Who are you looking for?”

Coco suddenly spun out of the bathroom, completely starkers with bubbles sliding down her tiny body. “Catch me!”

Estelle chased after her, her purple sundress sopping wet and clinging to her underweight curves. After so long with bare essentials, she couldn’t get used to underwire and underwear, either. We preferred going commando these days.

Wild feral islanders that we were.

Her eyes were alive, her face twisted into a laugh. “Come back here, you terror!”

Her smile was for me, but her gaze went to the stranger at the door.