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Authors: Rosalind James

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BOOK: Just This Once
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They finally did get their shower, and he had been right.
Soap and water, the tiny motel shower forcing them to stand close together, to
help each other soap up and rinse off, her heavy hair streaming down her body
to her hips under the spray. Clean again, they made love after belatedly
pulling back the duvet on the big bed. Slowly, taking their time now, kissing,
stroking, letting the heat build until it overcame them again.

Afterwards, they slept, waking as the evening was closing
around them, the room fading in the dusk. He held her against him as she woke,
disoriented at first.

“How’re you going?” he smiled at her as she floated into
full consciousness.

“Hungry,” she admitted. “You must be starved.”

He laughed. “I am, it’s true. And I don’t want to spend the
night in this bed. I’ve been trying all this time to get you back to my bach
with me. Reckon this may be the night I get lucky. I have some steaks there
too. If I take you by your motel to pick up your things, think I could talk you
into fixing a salad for us while I put them on the barbie? And then staying
with me tonight?”

“I think I could be persuaded to do that,” she said. “I
don’t think I’m done looking at you, anyway. I have some catching up to do.”

“We can do some more catching up,” he promised. “After we
get outside of a couple steaks. I can tell I’m going to need my strength.”

Chapter 8

Waking alone in Drew’s huge bed the next morning, Hannah had
to admit that this was an improvement in every way over her tiny motel room. What
must it be like, she wondered, to wake up every morning to a view like this?
Surely it would be hard to start the day in a bad mood. The room was simply
furnished, its natural wood and white walls understated, with the focus on the
scene beyond. Sliding doors opened onto a large deck that continued around the
other side of the beach house—the bach, she corrected herself. She could lie in
bed and look out over the sea and sky.

Those doors were open now. Listening to the birds singing
outside, she felt as if her body were singing a happy little song right along
with them. Her blood seemed to hum and tingle in her veins. When Drew came into
the bedroom, she sat up, pulling the sheet around her.

“Not necessary,” he smiled down at her. “I like the way
you’re dressed now. Brought you a cup of tea.” He sat down on the bed to hand
it to her.

She was touched by his thoughtfulness. “I need this. A
little sore today.” She smiled ruefully. “Not just from the hike, either.”

“Maybe this won’t sound good to you, then. I need to meet
some of the boys at the gym in Whitianga this morning. I wondered if you’d like
to come along. They have a yoga class there, I know. Thought you might like
that. But could be you’ve had enough exercise and would rather stay here and
sleep a bit.”

“No,” she responded instantly. “A yoga class sounds perfect.
Stretch these muscles. Can I buy just a single class, though?”

“No need for that. I’ll bring you in as a guest. No
worries.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she objected. “I’m happy to
take myself to a yoga class.”

He sighed. “And I’m happy to take you. As my guest. Better
get up, if you’re coming with me.”

The class, she decided a couple hours later, had been the
perfect solution for her sore muscles. Quieting her mind hadn’t hurt either,
she admitted. The day before had been so exciting—and the night too, she
remembered with a blush. She felt more relaxed now, her mind clearer, as she
finished showering and changing.

She saw Drew as soon as she left the locker room, part of a
group in the lobby at the other side of the large gym. It would have been hard
to miss the five big men, chatting and laughing. She hesitated, a little shy
about approaching.

Seeing her, Drew broke away from the group to meet her
halfway. She was intercepted in her progress across the gym floor, though, by a
young man in a pair of startlingly short gym shorts who had been working out
with a friend on the nearby machines.

“Morning,” he smiled, showing too many white teeth as he
came up to her, forcing her to stop. “Saw you coming out of yoga class. Good on
ya. Getting flexible, eh,” he added suggestively.

Well, that was smooth. “Good morning,” she said politely,
and made to step around him and continue on her way.

He sidestepped, blocking her way again as Drew approached
behind him. “You have gorgeous hair,” was his next original gambit. “Couldn’t
help but notice. Know where it would look even better?” He leaned in and
continued softly, “On my pillow.”

“Excuse me,” she said frostily, and moved again to bypass
him.

She needn’t have bothered. Drew had his hand on the other
man’s shoulder. Casanova turned in surprise to meet a pair of icy gray eyes
that bored into his own.

“The lady’s not interested,” Drew growled. “Take a hike.”

The young man’s eyes widened in shocked recognition, and
Hannah could have sworn he actually backpedaled like a cartoon character.
“Right,” he stammered. “Sorry, mate.”

Drew turned back to her, his eyes still angry. “Sorry. Should
have seen you sooner, kept that bastard from annoying you.”

“Thanks for rescuing me again. But I was doing fine. I know
how to handle that by now.”

“It’s amazing,” she went on conversationally, “how many men
think that’s some kind of knockout line I won’t have heard before. What do they
think I’m going to say? ‘Oh, you’re so right. Let’s have sex right now.’”

He laughed and reached out to take her gym bag. “No chance
of that from you, anyway. Come on, then. I want to introduce you to my mates.”

His friends were even bigger up close, she found. “Let me
guess,” she offered after shaking hands with the four tall men. “You’re rugby
players too.”

“You’ve penetrated our amazing disguise, eh,” answered
Kevin, an engaging readhead.

She laughed. “Not too hard.” She looked around the group.
“There’s just something about you.”

As she turned to look at the man to her right, Drew saw that
the bruise on her neck was clearly visible, and mentally winced. He saw Kevin’s
eyes fall to it as well, suddenly speculative. He put his hand protectively
around the back of her neck and shot Kevin a glare that had the other man
looking quickly away again, his face wiped clean of expression.

At the touch, Hannah turned to him. She stopped, puzzled, at
the look on his face. Then hurried on to cover the awkward moment. “But you
still get together and work out, even in the offseason?”

“That’s the Skip,” said Finn, a powerfully built man some
years older than Kevin. “Doesn’t let us skive off, does he.”

All the men laughed at that as Drew answered good-humoredly,
“Too right. Need to keep you lazy buggers up to the mark. Have to go give
Hannah her lunch now, though. See you boys here day after tomorrow, then. Same
time.”

“I like your friends,” Hannah told him as he piloted the
truck out of the club’s parking lot. “They look so fierce, some of them. And
they’re huge. A little intimidating. But they’re nice, I think.”

“Not so nice when you meet them on the paddock. But we try
to be civilized the rest of the time, specially with the ladies.”

“Why do they call you Skip?” she wondered. “Is it a
nickname?”

He laughed. “Not exactly. It’s just that I’m the captain.
The Skipper,” he explained, when she still looked mystified.

“Oh, I get it. Like the skipper of a ship. But you didn’t
tell me you were the captain,” she objected.

“What should I have said, then? ‘Hello,’” he mocked in a
deep voice. “‘I’m Drew Callahan. I’m a rugby player, and you should know that I’m
also the captain. Why don’t you come home with me? Your hair would look bloody
good on my pillow.’”

She smiled. “You’re a little too smooth for that. Thank
goodness.”

“Mind if we stop by your motel again, before I take you to
lunch?” he asked. “Pick up another shirt?”

“Why? What’s wrong with this one? Did I spill something?” She
looked down anxiously.

“I meant a shirt with a collar. If you don’t have one, I’ll
buy you one. To cover that mark,” he explained, as she still looked confused.

Her hand flew to the back of her neck. “This? It’s just a bruise.
Nobody would notice it.”

“Kevin noticed it.”

“Oh.” The light dawned. “That’s why you were glaring at him
like that.” She laughed. “The poor man. But he wouldn’t have known how it got
there. Would he?” she faltered.

“He isn’t thinking about it now, if he knows what’s good for
him,” Drew answered a little grimly. “But you’ll make me happier if you cover
it up. I promise, it’ll be the last time. Don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Yes, I do,” he corrected himself. “I’m not sorry for what I
was thinking. But I’m sorry I marked you like that.”

“Is it nasty of me to say that I didn’t mind it? I don’t
want anybody to hurt me, or anything,” she hurried on. “But when you held me
like that, and . . . and bit me, it was . . . really exciting,” she finished tentatively.
“It made me a little crazy, in fact. Maybe just don’t bite so hard, next time?”

He swore. “You’re going to kill me,” he groaned. “Here we
are in this bloody ute again, twenty kilometers from anywhere. I have to stop
taking you places.”

 

In the end, he took her straight back to the bach. She
wouldn’t need the shirt anyway, he reasoned. Not if she stayed there with him.

“This sandwich is huge,” she protested, when he brought her the
toasted chicken and vegetable monstrosity out on the deck. Their lunch had been
delayed a bit, but he was making up for it now. “I’m not playing any rugby
games anytime soon. I have to stop eating like this.”

“I’ll finish what you don’t,” he assured her. “Besides,
seems to me you’ve been getting a bit of exercise yourself, these past few days.
Need to keep your strength up.”

“Mmmm . . . Making up for lost time,” she answered, around
her sandwich.

“Lost time?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s been a while, that’s all.”

“Wait, forget I said that,” she added hastily. “You keep telling
me I’m supposed to stop sharing these things that make me sound like a loser.”

He laughed. “I like it. Good to know what you really think.
No games. But just how long has it been? You don’t seem out of practice to me.”

She flushed. “Well, thanks. I think that’s you, though.
Seems to me you do most of the work. All I have to do is enjoy it.”

“Works for me. I like an appreciative audience. Not to
mention someone who follows orders, eh.” He grinned again at her shocked
expression. “But you’re just trying to distract me now. Let’s hear the sad
story.”

She answered reluctantly. “Well . . . maybe three . . .” she
cleared her throat. “Three years?”

“Three
years?”
he answered, stunned. “Not that I’m
complaining,” he hastened to assure her. “I’m glad to know you’ve saved all
that for me. But why is that? From what I saw this morning, you must have heaps
of men asking you out.”

“Yes, and that’s about the quality of them. Sure, I go out. Some.
I just got disillusioned with all of it. I’m not good at casual sex. It doesn’t
work for me. Whatever you might think,” she added defensively.

“You’re not sending out any ‘come and get it’ signals, no
worries.”

“My friend Susannah says I’m too guarded. That I don’t give
anyone a chance. But I can’t hop into bed with someone just for fun. Too
embarrassing the next day, you know?”

He was too smart to answer that one. “Not every man wants to
hook up and move on, though.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes it seems like that’s all they’re
looking for. That three-date thing.”

“What three-date thing?”

“You know. Three dates and you’re out? They figure if it
hasn’t happened by then, there’s no return on their investment, and they don’t
call again. Once that happened to me enough, I suppose I stopped giving them
much of a chance. It started to seem so sordid. Like we’re all expendable.
Interchangeable. They just want to get some, and if it takes too long, they’ll
get it from somebody else.”

“So that’s how I did it,” he teased. “Didn’t pike out, eh.”

“OK, I’ll admit,” she smiled, “I wanted to get some too, in
your case. I tried. I told myself I’d regret it, and that I didn’t know you
well enough, and that we lived too far apart for anything to come of it. But it
didn’t work. I was pretty sure, actually, that first day on the boat. The rest
of it was just me arguing with myself.”

“Could have fooled me. I wasn’t sure I was getting anywhere
at all.”

“Well, you were scary,” she said seriously.

“Scary? How?” he protested. “I tried bloody hard to be a
gentleman. And it wasn’t easy.”

“You were wonderful. But you’re so different from the kind
of men I usually meet. Lawyers. Sales reps. You’re just so . . . so big,” she said
lamely. “Overwhelming. And I was really attracted to you. That was scary, for
me. But what can I say. You overcame my scruples. So here I am, being slutty on
my vacation. Just what I said I wouldn’t do.”

He smiled. “You know bugger all about being slutty. But I’ll
try my best to help you learn.”

“Well, you know,” she frowned down at her sandwich, “I have
to go to Rotorua tomorrow. So if you’ll take me back to my motel after lunch, I
need to pack.” She looked up at him with an effort.

“But you don’t want to do that,” he protested. “Do you? I
sure as hell don’t want you to leave now.”

“Are you sure about that?” she pressed. “You’re on a fishing
vacation. You said so. You don’t have to be a gentleman now, Drew. I went into
this with my eyes open. I knew I only had a few days, and I decided I wanted to
be with you anyway. But there’s no obligation.”

“Do you think, by now, I don’t know how to give someone the
push?” he asked, exasperated. “I’m sure I shouldn’t say it, but I’ve had some
practice. If I’d wanted to be rid of you, I could have done it. Given you a
kiss and had an appointment back in Auckland. Dead easy. Did that occur to
you?”

BOOK: Just This Once
4.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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