A Risk Worth Taking
A Risk Worth Taking
Zana Bell
“I want the whole damned picket fence.”
Cressa didn’t know what to say, how to answer Adam’s proclamation. The wide-open spaces of the Galveston coast suddenly seemed too big. She felt swallowed up by it all. She was filled with a need for the green hills of home, for the safety of Aroha Bay. For a world where the scale was reasonable and the people predictable. Where the men were manageable. Only Adam, she thought bitterly, could make a proposal sound like a challenge. But before she could begin to frame an answer, Adam stepped close and clutched her arms.
“Don’t say it,” he whispered. “Don’t you dare.” His face was very close to hers, his breath warm on her cheeks. “You know what, Cressa? I’m going to save us both from repeating patterns. To save you from being the one who quits yet again and me from being the one abandoned. I’ve had one wife walk out on me. This time I’m going to walk away.”
Dear Reader,
Have you taken any risks lately? The gatekeepers to dreams, risks have to be braved before we can move forward or upward. Yet the task of identifying risks can be a slippery one as they are intensely personal; one person’s risk is simply another person’s thrill. Also, while many risks are physical or financial, some of the scariest are emotional. In the worst extremes, we risk our lives. In love, we risk our hearts.
We take the risk when the dream is more powerful than the fear.
We know this. We have age-worn sayings to remind us: faint heart never won fair lady; nothing ventured, nothing gained. We know—and yet all too often we hesitate. Fools rush in, we tell ourselves. We fear failure. We are afraid, even more, of people witnessing this failure.
And so what if we are afraid? It doesn’t need to stop us! I had a lot of fun writing this book in which the daredevil hero and heroine would infinitely prefer to jump out of airplanes than risk confronting their deepest, secret desires and pain. It is a book about past demons, conflicting goals, disguised defences and, above all, love in all its glorious, messy confusion.
Here’s to you and your pursuit of dreams—despite all their pesky attendant risks and fears.
Zana Bell
P.S. I love hearing from readers. Please contact me
c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road,
Don Mills, ON, M3B 3K9, Canada.
A Risk Worth Taking
Zana Bell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Life used to be full of risks for Zana Bell, who grew up in Zimbabwe, went to university in South Africa then lived hand to mouth in Scotland, England and Greece where she took a wide variety of jobs, each of which presented its own challenges. Then she immigrated to New Zealand and she now lives a richly blessed life with her family in a beautiful seaside cottage. Adventures are still to be had in Paradise, however, as on a regular basis New Zealand provides cyclones, floods, earthquakes and even the odd volcanic eruption. But as her deepest fear is public humiliation, signing up for dancing lessons when she lacks any sense of rhythm whatsoever might yet prove to be the scariest venture of all….
To Sally and Alan,
who constantly blaze new trails.
You are an inspiration.
Special thanks also to my splendid editor,
Victoria Curran.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
PROLOGUE
THIS WAS THE HAPPIEST DAY of her life. That’s what everyone said. Cressa stared out of the window of the limousine, as the world spun past her. Everywhere in the city people were going to movies and restaurants or to the beach or playing sports, and here she sat, imprisoned in this white, beribboned Jaguar.
It’s just nerves, she thought to herself. Again. All brides have them.
She glanced at her father, seated beside her. He looked so handsome and proud. He smiled at her and patted her hands, clasped in her lap. “Nearly there.”
He thought she was being impatient. Her stomach rumbled, soured by champagne and doubt, and she rubbed it. Only a month ago she’d carried life there. For such a short time, really, yet it had created a nightmare of intense, conflicting emotions that she still did not know how to deal with. But now wasn’t the time. Not the place. She resolutely pushed the feelings aside.
“Dad,” she said. “I’ve got to pee.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“But…” He gestured helplessly out the window. They were driving through the outskirts of Auckland. The church where Brian was waiting for her was set on a hill surrounded by fields. Perfect, her mother had said, for photos.
“Please, Dad.”
He leaned forward and tapped the chauffeur on the shoulder. “We need to find a restroom.”
The driver flicked her a startled glance in his rearview mirror.
“Better text your sisters,” said Dad. “They can go on and tell people we’re coming.”
“Fine.”
She’d just texted the car behind, containing her four very excited sisters, when the chauffeur said, “There’s a petrol station up ahead.”
“Perfect.”
The car with her bridesmaids shot past them as they turned into the gas station. All her sisters waved madly and pulled silly faces. Cressa would have laughed if she hadn’t been so close to tears. As soon as the Jag stopped, she opened the door, then paused.
“I won’t be long.” She kissed her father on the cheek. “You’re the best, Dad.”
“I know all about performance nerves,” he assured her. “I always feel nauseous before I go onstage. Take as long as you need, sweetheart. This is your day.”
She heard good-natured laughter from the other customers and saw pointing fingers as she dashed through the convenience shop to the loo outback, but she didn’t care. Her veil was a nuisance, though, and it snagged on some boxes of biscuits on one of the shelves. She tugged and several boxes fell as her veil came loose. As she bent to pick them up, she realized she was still clutching her cell phone.
“Don’t worry,” said a teenage girl, rushing forward. “I’ll get them.” She smiled shyly. “You look beautiful.”
Cressa could see envy in the girl’s eyes. What would she have said if Cressa had asked, “Want to swap places?”
Fortunately, the restroom was a wheelchair one, so her voluminous dress wouldn’t get crushed. The size of the cubicle also meant she could pace, two steps forward, two back, her skirts sweeping the concrete floor. She couldn’t bail. Couldn’t do that to Brian, to her parents, to her sisters, to all the guests.
But she couldn’t say the vows, either.
She was sure to the pit of her stomach that she would never be able to utter those two words, I do.
Why did it have to be today that all her fears, all her misgivings had finally crystallized into one big, fat, undeniable conviction that she was on the brink of making the worst mistake of her life? A week ago wouldn’t have been so bad. Yesterday would still have been salvageable. But today? Now? Ten minutes away from the church? To be having these thoughts now was unforgivable.
She crossed to the sink, put her cell phone down and turned on the tap. She wished she could splash water in her face but didn’t dare spoil the lovely makeup that had taken over an hour to do. Instead, she held her wrists under the cold water.
Above the sink, her white reflection stared back at her in a fly-spotted mirror. The light wasn’t good, and the window above the loo had misted glass that probably enhanced her ghostly pallor. The window.
She turned slowly, gazed at it, then shook her head. She couldn’t. Then she thought of standing at the altar, saying her vows and becoming Mrs. Brian McKenzie forever.
Cressa shut off the water, grabbed her phone, flipped the toilet lid down and scrambled up on it. Luckily, the window was hinged at the top and quite wide. She hoisted herself up and landed half in, half out of it. Her veil fell forward over her head and dragged in the dust below. A couple of hairpins dislodged and she felt some of her heavy hair come free from the elaborate bun. The window frame dug into her stomach. Her feet no longer reached the toilet seat, but scrabbled against the wall, tangling in her skirts as she levered herself slowly forward. It wasn’t easy, especially since she still clutched her phone.
Her father would be wondering what had happened to her. At the sound of fabric ripping, she winced. Sorry, Ma. The dress had snagged on the window catch. Cressa wriggled to free herself. Then she was hanging, her thighs on the ledge. Only one way to go now. She gave an extra heave and slithered headfirst down the cobwebby wall to crash onto the grass, banging her elbow painfully. She scrambled to her feet, veil hanging over her face, hair in tangles. With a jerk, she wrenched the veil from her head, causing more locks to fall free. Then she picked up her cell phone, which she’d dropped, and looked around.
Two guys were sitting in a pickup, hamburgers halfway to their mouths, gasping in astonishment. Did white knights come with adolescent pimples and scraggly hair?
She ran over to the truck window. “You’ve got to get me outta here,” she said in a low voice.
They nodded mutely.
“Now!”
At her tone, learned over the years from her mother, a high school principal, they jumped in response. As Cressa pulled open the door, they swallowed their burgers like baby pythons, not stopping to bite or chew. She admired their economy of movement.
“Move over,” she ordered, and hauled herself and her skirts into the tiny cabin, realizing she’d have to crouch at their feet. She squished down, her wedding dress nestling like a marshmallow around her. The cabin was filthy, but dirtying her dress was probably the least damage her actions of the past five minutes would cause. The guys’ boots were eyewateringly malodorous, but she didn’t care. A sense of appalled elation was bubbling up inside her.
“Let’s go,” she urged. “Quick.”
The boys exchanged grins and the pickup roared off with a wheelie that was completely gratuitous, but somehow suited the occasion. She fell sideways as the truck rounded the corner of the gas station, then she was slammed again when the youthful rescuer driving the truck pulled another squealing wheelie as he turned onto the road and sped off.
Her heart was still pounding, but for the first time that day, her mind was completely calm as she began to text her sisters once more.
CHAPTER ONE
Two Years Later
THE HARDEST THING to explain, either to herself or others, was that she had no aversion to weddings as such. There was, in fact, lots to enjoy about them. Right now, Cressa was taking malicious glee in watching her cousin Jake, usually the supercool surfie, straighten his vest for the third time in as many minutes as he stood on the deck of the sleep-out, waiting for his bride to emerge from the main house.
As for the setting of this wedding, it was perfect. A house on the beach in Aroha Bay—Bay of Love. What could be more fitting? The harbor provided the backdrop for the groom, best man and celebrant, with winter sunlight reflecting off the tranquil high tide. Behind the guests, tables with white cloths, laden with plates and glasses, had been positioned under trees festooned with streamers. Fairy lights had been threaded through the branches, ready for the night’s entertainment. Cressa had never seen the old house look so festive.
Even the weather was behaving unexpectedly well for an outside wedding, and had provided one of those wonderful Northland midwinter days of blue skies and blue sea. All the guests gathered on the lawn below the sleep-out were wearing sunglasses and many had shrugged off their jackets in the unexpected warmth.
Cressa also loved a good party, and all her favorite people in the world were clustered around her at this one. She glanced affectionately at her parents and her four sisters, Juliet, Portia, Desdemona and Katherine.
“Really, Cressa,” muttered her mother. “I do wish you hadn’t worn black.”
Cressa looked down at the leather miniskirt she’d found in a secondhand shop and the satin top with spaghetti straps, and grinned inwardly. What would a family gathering be without Ma finding something about her to criticize?
“You should be glad I’m not wearing my boots,” she hissed back.
She’d foregone her ancient Doc Martens in favor of a pair of high-heeled shoes borrowed from Des, the baby of the family and its fashionista. The shoes were a nuisance, though, because the heels kept getting stuck in the lawn.
Her thoughts returned to weddings and she wondered about the nature of love. People, she was sure, married for all sorts of reasons. Perhaps there was the fear of living alone forever. Maybe they simply confused sex or friendship with something more. And let’s face it, after a certain age, going to parties and dinners was way easier to do as part of a couple than as a single person.
Yet Cressa had to admit that denying the whatever-it-was that had such a tangible effect on people was hard. She eyed her cousin. Jake could surf deadly ninety-foot walls of water, yet here he was, as jumpy as a kitten, running his fingers through tousled tawny curls for the umpteenth time as he leaned over to say something to his best man, Rob. Rob shot him a big-brother grin, patted his tuxedo pocket and gave a thumbs-up to indicate that yes, he still had the ring.
“What’s keeping Sass?” demanded Des in a whisper that carried to the guests, causing some to glance around. “We’ve been waiting ages.”
As if on cue, the opening chords of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” erupted from the speakers suspended from the branches of the pohutukawa tree. Everyone turned and a collective sigh rose from the crowd. Sass looked lovely in an ivory dress that hugged her trim midriff, then flared from her hips. Her blond hair was loose and she carried a simple bouquet.
Cressa was certainly not immune to the sight of a beautiful bride. Tears pricked her eyes as she watched Sass make her way down the steps, her mother beside her. She appeared composed and confident, and as she gazed across the guests to Jake, a dazzling smile lit her face. Their union did seem, Cressa had to concede, very much like true love.
Given all the advantages she could see in weddings, her misgivings must therefore have their root in the happily-ever-after bit, she concluded thoughtfully. She just didn’t buy that. And if one really did live in marital bliss forever, well, where was the fun and adventure? It sounded like Sunday-school heaven: serene, beautiful—and mind-numbingly boring.
With a deep breath and an inward sigh, Cressa straightened, bracing herself to listen to vows that would lock her dashing cousin and his beautiful, strong-minded Texan wife in bland matrimony for the rest of their lives. But just as Sass reached the steps of the deck, the throaty roar of a motorcycle drowned out the music.
Bride forgotten, all heads whipped around to watch as the bike plunged down the steep driveway at a suicidal pace, swerved just in time around a pothole, only to hit a root. The bike launched and flew through the air for the last few yards before landing with a thump and skidding to a halt in front of the stunned gathering. The rider killed the engine and eased back in the saddle, looking blankly at the guests through his visor as though taken aback to suddenly be the center of attention.
“Adam!”
Sass abandoned her husband-to-be and rushed over to hug the man as he swung off the bike.
“Is that the brother?” whispered Juliet.
“Must be,” Portia muttered.
“They’re completely different,” said Katherine, pointing out the obvious when the man removed his helmet and enfolded his sister and then his mother in great bear hugs, his black hair and olive skin contrasting sharply with their fairness.
“Wow! He’s gorgeous,” Des murmured. “I bet he’s an Eastern European spy.”
Cressa smiled, remembering the silly game they used to play when sitting in the mall as teenagers. “Or a Mississippi steamboat gambler,” she whispered back.
“Oh, yeah!” Des fanned her cheeks with her hands, as Juliet cast them a withering look.
Juliet’s demeanor was another strike against marriage. Since her wedding to Mike a year earlier, she had become exceedingly dull company. Cressa had skipped that wedding because Brian had been Mike’s best man. Even Ma had agreed that Cressa’s absence might be the best option. Mike was away at a conference this weekend, and Cressa supposed Brian was there, too.
“Adam!” Jake vaulted off the deck and strode across the grass to shake his brother-in-law’s hand. “We thought you’d never make it after your flight was delayed.”
“Well, there was this real helpful ground attendant…” His voice was warm and deep, with the same slow Texan drawl as his sister’s.
“Around Adam there always is,” said Sass resignedly. “What was her name?”
Her brother just smiled. “She found a spare seat on a different airline and voilà.” He turned to Jake. “Tell me I’m not too late to give Sass away. I’d hate to miss the opportunity of a lifetime.” He looped an arm around his sister and squeezed. “No one else would be rash enough to take her on.”
Sass whacked him with her bouquet. “I might have known that even at my wedding you’d find a way to upstage me.” She tucked a hand into his arm. “Come on, you’ve arrived just in time.”
Amid laughter and the buzz of comments, someone got the music going again and the Texan siblings waited for Jake to return to the deck before they walked arm in arm through the crowd as it parted for them. The brother passed so close to Cressa she could have put out her hand and touched him, but his attention was on his sister as he beamed down at her. Sass’s blond hair and classical looks made her brother’s dark features even more dramatic. They mounted the steps of the deck and Cressa noted he was almost as tall as her cousin. Adam bent his head and kissed Sass’s cheek, before placing her hand in Jake’s. Then he stepped aside and the ceremony began.
Despite thinking she was completely over her own wedding-that-never-was, and despite her rationalization of the whole marriage scene, Cressa began to feel slightly sick as the ceremony progressed. Marriage-a-phobia? She couldn’t flee and disgrace herself a second time. Think about something else.
She focused on Sass’s brother. Adam. Nice name. Very Genesis. His thick black hair fell straight to his collar, and even though she could see only part of his face, his hawkish nose and knife-blade cheekbones were striking.
He’d handled his bike like a pro. She should know, having nearly hurtled off her own bike when going too fast down that treacherous driveway full of ruts and stones. How long was he staying in New Zealand?
She was dimly aware of soft Texan vows entwining with the more staccato Kiwi ones, so she deliberately turned her thoughts to the bike. She guessed it was a 600. She’d always wanted to try something that big. She looked back at Adam. Would he let her take it for a ride? After all, they were family now. She screwed up her face as she tried to determine the relationship. He was the brother of her cousin-in-law, which would perhaps make them cousins-in-law once removed. Twice, if you took in national differences.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The words rang out, snapping her back to the proceedings. As Jake gathered the new Mrs. Finlayson in his arms to kiss her, another audible sigh went up from the crowd. Cressa glanced at her parents and saw they were staring goofily into each other’s eyes, as if remembering their own wedding day, and she was surprised to find her formidable mother quite tearful. Cressa was less surprised by her sisters.
“That was so beautiful,” said Juliet, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“I know,” sniffed Des, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Why do weddings always make one cry?”
“Because they mark the end of freedom, that’s why,” Cressa said darkly.
Portia gave a watery chuckle, but Katherine rolled her eyes. “Oh, Cressa!” She turned to the others. “Come on, let’s go congratulate the bride.”
Her family abandoned her and started pushing through the crowd surrounding the newly married couple, but Cressa slipped away and drifted over to the bike. It was a KTM 640 Motard, a lovely beast, and she ran a hand tenderly over the seat.
“In Texas we shoot horse rustlers.” The deep, slow voice made her spin around. “You got designs on my bike?”
He was even more gorgeous close up, his face all swooping planes and dark hollows. He looked tired—which wasn’t surprising, since he’d just stepped off a trans Pacific flight, then ridden three hours north—but he was still alert.
“I do,” she admitted. “I was wondering if you’d let me take it for a spin.”
His interest sharpened. “You ride bikes?”
“I’ve got a GPX250.”
“Yeah?” He nodded approvingly. “That’s a tidy little bike.”
She snorted. “Little? She’d give your monster a run for its money on the roads around here.”
They were mostly unfinished, and Cressa had first learned how to ride a motorbike on the twisting, backcountry roads.
Adam surveyed her. “Is that a challenge?”
She stuck her fists on hips and eyeballed him. “Damn straight it is,” she said. “My bike’s back at the motel, but if you’re here tomorrow…”
She watched a smile slowly spread across his face. “Do you always pick on bikes twice your size?” he asked.
“Well, you know what they say.” She put on a leer and waggled her brows. “It’s not the size that counts…”
He laughed and stuck out his hand. “I’m Adam Walker. Pleased to meet you.”
She took his hand. It was large and warm. “Hi, Adam. Actually, we’re family now.” His eyebrows rose. “I’m Jake’s cousin Cressida, but everyone calls me Cressa.”
ADAM FOUND IT HARD not to stare into her wide, gray-green eyes. She had the most direct gaze he’d ever seen in a woman, and her thick, dark hair fell to her ass. Her nose, long, strong and slightly hooked, dominated her face, lending her an imperious air. Right now she was blatantly checking him out.
“Cressida? As in Troilus and Cressida?”
“That’s the one.”
He frowned. “Strange play. I can’t recall much of it apart from the dragging of the corpse at the end. I enjoyed that bit. Except, that wasn’t Troilus, was it?”
She did a double take. “It was Hector, but I’m impressed. You’ve actually seen the play? It’s not one of Shakespeare’s better known ones.”
“Way back when. I was only about fourteen then. Wasn’t she kind of a bad apple?”
“That’s me.”
There was something almost wolfish in her grin, and he found himself grinning back. Then he became aware he was still holding on to her hand. She hadn’t been in a hurry to claim it back, either. With some regret, Adam let it go. He was in New Zealand only to give his sister away and keep an eye on their mom while Sass was honeymooning. There was no room for flirting. All his time and energy during the next month had to be for studying.
He leaned against the bike as she asked, “How come you went to see the play at that age? Were you studying it at school?”
A gust of wind lifted her hair like a dark cloud around her. The impatient way she tucked it behind her ear suggested she had no idea how sexy it looked.
“My mom’s an English teacher. She dragged me to every Shakespeare performance within a hundred miles of where we lived.”
“Tell me about it! My dad’s an actor. My little sister’s first words were—” she put on a baby’s lisp “—’Ith thith a dagger I thee before me?’”
He laughed and she joined in. Not that her performance had been that funny, but a weird energy fizzed between them and laughter was a way to express it or release it. Or something. Hell, must be jet lag heightening his senses and jumbling his thoughts this way.
“So where did the bike come from?”
“A rental. I picked it up at the airport once I found out no plane or bus would get me here in time.”
She was only about five foot four, but she gave the impression of being taller. She had a nice body—compact, curvy and toned.
“Hey, Adam!” Hearing his name shouted, he glanced away to find his brother-in-law gesticulating from the beach. Adam waved, then turned back to her. “Sorry, Cressa, gotta go. Time for photos. It was real nice meeting you.”
She raised a hand in farewell. “See you later, cuzzie bro.”
He’d begun to leave, but he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “‘Cuzzie bro’?”
She smiled. “It’s a term we use in New Zealand for a loose family connection. You’re one of us now.”
As he walked away, Adam didn’t know whether that warmed or alarmed him.
CHAPTER TWO
OVER THE NEXT HOUR, Sass and Jake introduced Adam to all their guests and he became quite giddy, repeating the same conversations again and again. Yeah, a great flight. Yeah, a little jet-lagged. No, finding the place had been easy—the bike had a GPS. Yeah, the New Zealand roads were pretty different from the long straight Texas roads, but he’d had a great ride up. The country sure was pretty. He’d be here a month. No, he didn’t see himself getting bored stuck out in Aroha Bay—what a beautiful spot.
The Kiwis were all very friendly, but he couldn’t find Cressa, and tiredness was kicking in fast. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep on the flight, squeezed into economy, with his legs folded up around his ears. The continual glasses of champagne now being pressed into his hand weren’t helping, either, as the reality of what he’d committed himself to began to sink in. Galahad instincts had kept him buoyed on the flight over, but here, standing on the beach at the end of a dead-end road, he was beginning to realize it would be just him and Mom for four weeks. For nine years everyone in the Walker family had led their own, very dissimilar lives. What the hell would living under the same roof again be like?
Even worse, what if Mom wanted to “talk”? Such an awful lot had gone unsaid over the years that, in his opinion, would be best left unsaid. The past was a place he didn’t like to visit, even as a tourist. Unfortunately, one of the big drawbacks with women was they usually insisted on talking things out. Mom used to cope by using denial and drink, but now that she was sober….
The one quality all the Walkers had perfected over the years, however, was the art of making everything seem fine, so Adam put his doubts aside as he laughed and chatted and took photos and gave his mom and sis hugs, and everyone smiled to meet such a happy family.
At one point, Sass pulled him behind a big tree where no one could see them.
“Oh, Adam, I can’t tell you what this means to me.”
He was alarmed to notice tears well. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’m happy to hang out here and make sure Mom is okay. How’s she doing?”
Sass smiled. “She’s been great these past couple of months. Staying with us in New Zealand has helped. All her old routines are broken, and as you can tell—” she motioned toward the waters of the bay, which were turning silver-blue in the late-afternoon sun “—there aren’t any stores around to buy alcohol.”
“Great. Well, I’ll hold fort for the next month. I know you’ll be away for five weeks, but I gotta be back by then. Mom’ll just have to go it alone for a few days.”
Sass hugged him. “She’ll be fine. I’m so sorry I twisted your arm into flying over, but when the cottage came up in Australia—”
“Yeah, I know. Right on the most perfect surf beach where the boys can learn to surf bigger waves. You’ve already explained several times. Although why the hell you’re taking Jake’s bad boys with you—but hey, it’s your honeymoon.”
She laughed. “What can I say? Surfers are crazy and I simply couldn’t disappoint them all.”
“No worries. I’m here now. It’ll be fine.”
He sounded confident, but Sass, damn it, was on to him in a flash. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing. Jeez, Sass, nothing. Well, nothing major. I just sorta wonder what Mom and I will find to talk about, that’s all.”
Sass gazed at him for a second. Her voice was gentle as she said, “It’s different now that she’s sober. She’s the mom I remember from when I was a little girl. You were probably too young to recall.”
“Yeah?” Adam considered this. At least, he tried to. Jet lag and champagne were not conducive to thinking much at all. “Well, good.” Sass was eyeing him thoughtfully, which worried him. “Look, we’ll be just fine. I wasn’t thinking straight for a minute. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” she said in that tone he knew meant she was already sorting out solutions. He’d been on the receiving end of her solutions too often in the past.
“I mean it, Sass. Leave it.”
She gave him that smile he recognized all too well. Talk on. I’m not listening. But before he could make a stronger protest, Sass squeezed his arm. “I’d better get back to my guests.”
As they stepped around the tree and Sass disappeared to socialize, luck shone down on him. There was Cressa, standing in a group of people, her back to him. Even though no one else had yet noticed him, something made Cressa turn slowly around, and their eyes met.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” She had the most amazing smile. “Come over and meet my family.”
She made a space for him beside her and he could smell her perfume. Light, pretty and a bit spicy.
“This is my mum, Deirdre.” She gestured to a tall, dignified woman in a cream suit.
“Nice to meet you, Deirdre.”
She smiled, but her eyes x-rayed him in a single glance. “Adam. I hadn’t realized you two had already met.”
“Yeah, over by my bike.”
“Ah, of course.”
Again that laser stare. Adam fought the urge to check if his fly was undone.
“And this is George, my dad,” Cressa said.
Her dad was tall, with strong features, and Adam figured he must have Maori ancestry. That would explain Cressa’s sensational hair.
“An actor, I believe,” said Adam.
George feigned astonishment. “You’ve heard of me in Houston?” He placed a hand across his heart and bowed his head. “I’m honored.”
“Oh, Dad, stop kidding around. And these are my sisters, Juliet, Katherine, Portia and Desdemona.”
Adam blinked. They were as overwhelming in looks as in names. Juliet, Portia and Desdemona were all fair like their mother. He tried to sort them out. Juliet, sleek bob. Desdemona, long curls. Portia, pixie cut. Katherine and Cressa were dark like their father, but Katherine’s hair was short and curly. Their eyes and skin tones were also different. The only thing they all shared was the same strong nose. Adam found it rather cute, but he bet they hated it.
He must have appeared stunned, because George laughed. “The Curtis women en masse are glorious but overwhelming, I know. Stupidly, we forgot to bring a camera today, and I’d love a shot of all my daughters together, especially looking so beautiful.” He pointed to the camera in Adam’s hand. “Would you take one of us all?”
“Gladly,” Adam said, and raised the camera. “Smile.”
Cries of “Cheese” and “Whiskey” arose from the sisters as they squeezed together, and Cressa laughed, her face full of affection as she regarded her siblings.
“Hang on,” said Adam. “I’ll shoot a few more to make sure.” He fiddled with the zoom, clicked a couple more times. “Perfect.”
“What about you?” Cressa asked Adam. “Do you come from a big family?”
“Nope. Just one sister, one brother, one mother.”
Had he just sounded wistful? Man, he must be jet-lagged.
“Lucky you,” sighed Desdemona. “More time in the bathroom.”
“As if you needed it, Des. You always used to hog it,” said Juliet.
“And what do you do, Adam?” Deirdre asked.
He felt as if he was just about to fail an exam. “This and that. Mostly I’m involved in construction.”
“Oh.”
Amazing how much one small word could convey.
“You’re like Cressa,” Des interjected. “She doesn’t stay in any job for long, either. She’s a flibbertigibbet.”
“I’m not,” said Cressa. “I’m versatile.”
That set her sisters off.
“Very versatile,” Juliet agreed. “Last month you were a youth hostel manager down in Hokitika.”
“And before that you were working in a ski shop in Queenstown,” said Portia.
“Don’t forget the bar in Wellington and the stint as a tourist guide in Rotorua,” Des added.
George chuckled and said to Adam, “To think she very nearly qualified as an accountant, and look at her now.”
She looked pretty good to him. Deirdre, however, didn’t seem nearly so amused, especially when Cressa turned to Adam and commented, “They just don’t understand that people like us don’t enjoy being trapped in the same old, same old, do we? We thrive on change, aye?”
It wasn’t quite like that for Adam, but this was so not the time to put her right, especially since, with her mother watching, she was seeking support. “Sure. So what are you doing now?”
“I’m a stuntwoman. Dad got me a job on a TV pilot, The Valkyries. It’s got motorbike chases and broadsword battles between characters in leather gear. All quite mad but loads of fun.”
“No kidding. I used to do motorcycle stunts, too.” The words just slipped out.
Cressa’s incredible eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah, but years ago,” he said, playing down the experience, “and mainly as a touring show. Very different.”
This caused another clamor as all the sisters began asking questions and Deirdre’s smile became more and more taut. To his relief, he caught sight of his mother chatting to another group of people across the lawn, and he held up a hand with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, but I’ve barely spoken to my mom, and need to say hi to her properly. Nice meeting you all.”
BY THE TIME EVENING FELL and the dancing started, Adam was feeling seriously spaced out. He found he had to concentrate to catch what people were saying. Kiwis spoke so damn fast that keeping up was difficult. His body was craving sleep and he was too befuddled now to calculate what time it was back in Texas. Yesterday morning or some such. How great, therefore, when Cressa appeared at his elbow. It was colder now and she was wearing a bright red jacket. Bold with strong lines, it suited her.
“Will you dance with me?”
“With pleasure.”
He put his camera down on one of the tables and swept her into his arms. The band was playing “Moon River,” probably because of the full moon now laying a silver track across the harbor. Adam was glad the number was a slow one. Drifting like this on the grass, under the trees and stars, a pliant woman pressed against him, it felt good. He hadn’t had a chance to catch up with Cressa again before now. He’d only seen her from afar, chatting animatedly in different groups, seeming to know everyone. At one stage he’d spotted her in deep conversation with Jake and Sass. They’d glanced several times in his direction and he’d wondered what they were talking about. Nothing bad, clearly, for here she was, in his arms.
Adam closed his eyes, letting his tired mind relax and his senses take over. He liked her perfume and the softness of her hair. Dreamily, he wound it around and between his fingers. He loved the contrast of the cold night air and the warmth of her body, and his hand slipped up under the hem of her jacket to stroke the sensuous lines of her back. It would be so sweet to melt into the shadows with her and make out. Slow and easy. Almost trancelike, he danced her to the edge of the crowd, toward the sheltering darkness of trees. He’d been so serious for so long, and Cressa reminded him of what he used to be like.
Tonight he was in a foreign land, among strangers. Tomorrow she’d be gone and he would refocus, get back to his studies. Hell, there was absolutely nothing else to do in Aroha Bay. No distractions, just him and Mom. He’d probably ace the exam, given the empty weeks stretching ahead.
The thought made him smile as he leaned down to rub his cheek, then his lips, on the top of her head. That felt good, too. She raised her face to his, but just as he was about to let his mouth sink onto her beautiful lips, he saw Deirdre only a few feet away, observing the dancers. The way Cressa’s mother wasn’t looking at them as she sipped her wine let him know she knew exactly what was going on. He swung around with the music so that his back was to her, but already she had knocked some of that delicious, drugged dreaminess out of him.
Cressa smiled up at him. She appeared so full of mischief and wicked promise that he couldn’t help smiling back. One night with her would be amazing.
“I’ve a surprise for you.”
“Yeah?” He could hear the husky, lustful hope in his voice and wondered if she did.
“I hope you won’t mind. Sass said you’d be delighted. Your mum knows about it and she says that it’ll be wonderful.”
Suspicion replaced lust. “Really?” His instincts had spotted danger, but his mind couldn’t seem to keep up. “What?”
“I told Jake and Sass I’m up here on location for the next few weeks, and Sass invited me to stay. Now I’ll be around to show you the country. Won’t that be fun?”
With alarm bells going off in his head, Adam jerked backward, tripped over the root of a tree and stumbled, knocking the glass of red wine out of Deirdre’s hand and all down her cream suit.
CHAOS ENSUED as people immediately crowded around, making helpful comments while trying to wipe down the suit. Cressa saw Adam looking wretched as he apologized over and over. She was relieved when Jake carried him off, ostensibly to give a hand bringing out the cake. Adam’s mum, Alicia, whisked Deirdre off to the sleep-out to find her a change of clothes. Then came speeches, more champagne and the cutting of the cake.
Through it all, Adam never once glanced her way. Cressa couldn’t understand it. When they were dancing, she’d been so sure he was as attracted to her as she was to him. He couldn’t have missed the magnetism between them. Or had she really misread the signals so badly?
Over and over again in her mind she replayed the shock on his face when she’d told him she’d be staying. Saw again the panic in his eyes. What the hell? She had to find Sass, tell her staying here was off. But it wasn’t easy. The bride and groom were constantly surrounded by people.
Cressa wandered among the tables now showing the wreckage of carousing. Canapes had dried up; empty glasses littered surfaces. Used plates and napkins lay strewn across the tables and some had fallen onto the grass. The dregs of champagne sat flat in the bottles. The celebration was over and her sour feelings about weddings had only been reinforced. For a while she must have been carried away by a misdirected, false sense of romanticism. What a fool. She glanced over to Adam, now standing on the far edge of the lawn. He looked gorgeous and unobtainable. What a waste.
How had she read him so wrong?
Then, to crown her sense of dislocation, she watched as Sass mounted the deck of the sleep-out and lifted her bouquet. Laughing and jostling, all the women gathered below. Des, Portia and Katherine were right in front. Typical. Cressa wouldn’t be caught dead in that silly gaggle. Someone started a countdown. “Ten. Nine…”
She spotted Adam’s camera lying on the table where he’d left it when they went to dance. She turned it on and flicked through the photos he’d taken of her family. In the darkness of the night, they glowed in bright colors, surprisingly good. Despite her current mood, Cressa smiled. They would all want copies.
“Six. Five…”
She continued clicking on the photos and froze. This one was of her. He’d zoomed in for a close-up of her face. She’d been glancing sideways, laughing at her sisters. The wind had caught her hair, lifting it behind her.
“Two… One!”
And the bouquet, caught by a gust, sailed over all the guests to smack Cressa squarely in the back of her head.
CHAPTER THREE
THE NEXT DAY began chaotically. The Curtis family overslept, after having talked and laughed into the small hours of the morning. The rushed start meant hasty cups of tea and battles for the bathroom. Cressa’s sisters tripped over one another as they crammed clothes into bags before realizing they’d picked up the wrong bras, hair straighteners and phone chargers. This led to frantic repacking, which was followed by an uproarious brunch at the marina.
Cressa leaned back, cradling her coffee, letting the words wash around her. The sun was warm on her back and shone on the dark and tawny heads of her family. Their faces were animated, hands gesturing to emphasize words. With a teacher mother and an actor father, they’d all learned to make their points forcibly. She smiled, her world complete.
One sister, one brother, one mother.
He’d looked wistful, which was at odds with his bad-boy persona. So many contradictions. She was, she had to admit, intrigued. Images of Adam, memories of his arms around her, his lips in her hair, kept coming back to her and filling her with anticipation. Then she’d recall his look of horror.
“How is Brian?” Her mother’s question pulled her back to the present.
Far from playing the jilted groom, Brian had stayed frustratingly faithful and friendly.
“Oh, he’s fine. Working mad hours as always.” She was careful to sound blasé.
“I thought he must be,” said Deirdre. “We haven’t spoken to him for a few weeks now, have we, George?”
“Not since he dropped by with that particularly good bottle of wine.” Her dad smiled, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the wine or the pleasure of seeing Brian. Cressa might not have gone through with the wedding, but Brian had somehow remained a fixture in her family.
“I caught up with him last Friday,” Juliet interjected. “Mike brought him home for dinner. He’s looking great but tired. Did you know he’s presenting at the conference Mike’s gone to this weekend?” She eyed Cressa with a touch of accusation. “He mentioned he hasn’t seen much of you, Cressa.”
What could she say?
“Filming’s busy,” she replied.
But Des was already leaning forward, arms crossed on the table. “Why should she? They’re not an item anymore.”
“He still loves her, despite everything,” Katherine said. “Cressa’s mad not to see how lucky she is.”
“But if she doesn’t love him—” Des countered.
“What’s not to love?” Juliet said. “He’s the most eligible bachelor around.”
“It’s none of our business,” said Mum, as she always did just before going on to deliver her opinion. “However, Cressa, you do need someone steady—if not Brian, then someone like him. Not some wild tearaway, here today, gone tomorrow.”
Cressa glanced at her sharply, but Deirdre’s sunglasses rendered her face impassive.
Looking mischievous, George covered his wife’s hand with his. “Isn’t that what your parents said when an impecunious actor strolled into your life?”
They all laughed, then Portia ended the discussion. “We should all butt out. Cressa can lead her life any way she likes after what she’s been through.”
The uncomfortable silence was broken when their father stood. “I’ll get the bill. Then we should hit the road.”
Cressa felt squeezed to death by the time her whole family had hugged her before climbing into the van and taking off, hands waving out all the windows. She laughed, waving back with both arms till the vehicle rounded the corner, then she picked up her helmet and made her way to her motorbike. As she switched on the engine, she was aware of a tingle of excitement.
How well her mother knew her. A wild tearaway, here today and gone tomorrow, was exactly what she wanted. She just had to convince him it was what he wanted, too. First, however, she had a phone call to make, and then she was going to drop in on her cousin and his wife. Rob and Moana had gotten to know Sass extremely well, and Cressa wanted as much information about the Walkers as possible. As a Valkyrie, she’d learned never to go into battle without being fully armed.
THE SUN WAS SETTING when Adam opened the door in answer to her knock, mop in one hand, bucket in the other. Cressa suppressed a smile. With his dangerous looks, he should be toting a weapon, not a mop. His hair, as black and glossy as the feathers of an eagle, fell thick and straight down each side of his face. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that made his olive skin appear more tanned than ever. Moana had said his father was Cherokee. Cressa liked that. It made him somehow even more exotic and exciting.
“Hey, good to see you,” he said, stepping back to let her enter. “Just finished getting the house in order.”
So that’s how he intended to play it. His manner was impeccably pitched at the “polite acquaintance” level. As if he had never run his hands up and down her back, causing her to shiver with anticipation. Okay, she could play along—for now.
“Hi.” She stepped inside the kitchen. The smell of roast chicken filled the air, and pots were boiling on the stove, though no one seemed to be attending to them. “You didn’t have to clean up for me, you know.”
He smiled, and his teeth were very white. American dentistry, no doubt. His slanted cheekbones gave his smile a wicked edge.
“I didn’t.” He sounded apologetic. “I did it because Mom ordered me to.”
Cressa laughed. The warrior still taming to his mother’s orders. She liked that, too.
“Was there a lot to do? You guys should have taken us up on our offer to help.”
Adam dismissed the idea with a wave of one lean hand. “It was no trouble. Rob and Moana came over in the morning, and with the boys here, too, we got most of it done in no time. Sass was commander in chief. Bossy but efficient. To be honest, when they all left at lunchtime, it was a relief.”
“Sounds like Juliet. Being the eldest, she thinks of herself more as mother than sister. So, where am I sleeping?”
“Mom’s been living in the sleep-out these past couple of months—Sass put her there to give her some privacy. So you’ll be in the house with me. You’ve got a choice, but I expect you’d like Sass and Jake’s room. It’s the biggest and has a double bed. The twins’ room is another option, but it has bunk beds and is a mess.”
He pushed open the door. “Here you are.”
But the sight of the double bed, the almost tangible sense of intimacy, had her backing out.
“You know, I’ll take the boys’ room.”
“Sure,” said Adam in his easy Texan way, but she’d seen his curious glance. She covered up with an explanation.
“That’s where I always used to be. I haven’t slept in the bunks for years. Now I won’t have to fight sisters for the top one.”
“You’ve been here before?” Adam was surprised.
“Yeah, we used to have family holidays here when I was a kid. That was how Jake got to rent it now, and why he and Sass invited me to stay. Jake thought I might like to enjoy the place one last time before the resort goes in.”
She felt sad at the thought of the house being taken away so the eco-resort could be built, but as Jake had said with a wry expression, it was time for other people to share the beauty of Aroha Bay. To have this final opportunity to experience the serenity of the bay was wonderful, and she’d have leaped at the chance, anyway. Adam just happened to be a bonus.
The room at the end of the hall felt like home. She’d forgotten how lovely it was, with windows on two walls and a view over the harbor. Teenage detritus was scattered about, but nothing she couldn’t chuck into the cupboard in a couple of minutes.
“It’s perfect.”
She unzipped her jacket. She saw Adam’s eyes follow the movement as he propped a shoulder against the top bunk. So she hadn’t been wrong. The currents weren’t as edgy as yesterday, but they were definitely running between them, however much he might pretend they weren’t.
“Really? Even the artwork?”
The walls were covered in posters of waves and girls in impossibly tiny bikinis. She stuck her hands into her back pockets as she looked around. “Makes a change from the pop posters we used to paper our rooms with. Except for Des. She had this thing for kitten posters. What did you have?”
“I shared a room with my brother, Cole. He’s into art, so we had all his drawings on one wall and my posters of motorbikes on the other.”
Cole. The one in prison. Moana hadn’t known much about why he was there. She’d said the Walker family had lots they chose not to talk about. Adam had mentioned his brother casually, but Cressa decided now was not the time to go into it. Although Adam seemed the same easygoing Texan of the night before, she could sense his defenses were up; his face gave nothing away.
He straightened. “Where’re your bags? I’ll bring them in.”
“Hey, no need. I can manage on my own.”
“I’m sure you can, but Mom would kill me if she saw you carrying them by yourself. She’s a feminist, but still doesn’t see why a gentleman shouldn’t be a gentleman.”
“Indeed I do not.”
They turned at the soft voice, and Alicia came forward to kiss Cressa on the cheek. “Welcome. Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you. I was out in the garden. Dinner’s nearly ready. We’re so pleased you’re joining us. We’ll eat in the kitchen, since there’s just the three of us. It’s cozy in there. Adam, you get Cressa’s bags while we set the table.”
“See what I mean?” Adam raised his hands in humorous resignation and departed. Cressa smiled.
“It’s very kind of you to have me, Alicia.”
“The pleasure is ours. The house will be so quiet now that Sass and Jake and the boys have gone. I know Adam will appreciate having someone other than his mother around. Wasn’t yesterday wonderful?”
Cressa followed her down the hallway to the kitchen just in time to find one of the pots on the stove boiling over.
“Dear me,” said Alicia, lifting it off the element and setting it to one side. She opened the oven door. Smoke and the smell of burning chicken filled the room. “Oh, my. That’s not good.”
Cressa went to set the table, and was astonished to find that the place mats and cutlery were kept exactly where they used to be. It gave her an eerie feeling of déjà vu. As she and Alicia chatted about the wedding, Cressa checked out the older woman. She was as neat as a pin, in white trousers and a blue jersey, and Cressa found it difficult to believe she had been cleaning all day. Her shoulder length hair fell in a silky curtain the way Adam’s did. Otherwise, they couldn’t look more different. It was as if a dove had given birth to an eaglet. An aura of femininity surrounded Alicia. Her soft voice and graceful movements were a far cry from Deirdre’s quick efficiency.
Hard to imagine Alicia an alcoholic. Hard to imagine her the mother of a convict. She’d had a blond husband and had taken a Cherokee lover. There was a lot more to this woman than her sweet, vague Southern mannerisms might suggest.
Adam came in. “Ah, I’d forgotten the smell of home cooking.”
His mother swatted him with the oven mitt. “I was distracted by Cressa’s arrival.”
Cressa thought about the untended pots and held her tongue, but she and Adam exchanged glances. It was the first time he’d looked her in the eye today, and Cressa immediately found Alicia’s cooking methods endearing.
“Now tell me, why are you up here for the filming? Is it just coincidence?” Alicia asked, draining a pot over the sink and disappearing into a cloud of steam.
“Not really. We were going to be on location in the Coromandel, but it got flooded out in the storms last week. I know the assistant director—he’s a friend of Dad’s—and suggested up here. Our family has been friendly with one of the local farmers for years. He can always do with some cash and his land has everything we need—so here we are.”
Alicia turned and smiled at her. “Well, I’m very pleased. It’s lovely for Adam to have another young person around. Me, too! What’s the show about?”
“It’s a pilot for a fantasy apocalypse series. Nuclear holocaust, the collapse of civilization, ongoing battles. Enter the Valkyries, who complicate things when they fall in love with fighters on different sides.”
“Sounds like you are enjoying it,” said Alicia, collecting the plates from the cupboard.
“Oh, yeah. The Valkyries are great—real kick-butt chicks. The warriors they fall in love with are also seriously cool.” Cressa dug in a drawer for serving tongs. As though he’d read her mind, Adam retrieved them from the dishwasher. “Alas,” she added, putting on a woebegone expression. “Only a few more weeks and then I’ll have to find a real job again.”
Adam and Alicia laughed.
“Are you looking for another stunt gig?” Adam asked as he got a jug of water out of the fridge.
She loved his voice—deep with long, slow vowels. She remembered the huskiness when they’d danced together. Before he’d pulled away.
She shrugged. “No, it’s been fun, but now I’m ready for something different.” She gazed at Adam. “What about you? Why did you stop doing stunts?”
“I broke my back.”
He smiled but glanced away, and the finality in his tone shut down that line of conversation. Was this how the Walkers got around topics they didn’t want to talk about?
“And there’ve been no jobs to tempt you into a career path?”
“Construction suits me for now.”
There it was again. You could almost hear the big fat period at the end of his sentence. His black eyes were unfathomable, his long eyelashes shuttering them. Cressa was impressed and intrigued. He smiled easily, but his expression was strangely impassive.
Alicia cut in. “Sometimes it takes some people longer to know what they want. I must confess I was relieved when Adam gave up his horrible show. Construction is much better, even if it isn’t the ideal job. You’re both still young and have lots of time to find something you love one day.”
She smiled brightly at her son as they all took their seats at the table, but Cressa saw concern in her glance. The same as she’d seen in her own mother’s eyes.
“Yeah, people like us aren’t in a hurry to get to a final destination. We’re enjoying the journey—isn’t that right, Adam?”
Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door, and they all turned to see a man through the glass panels.
“Brian!” Cressa exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”
CHAPTER FOUR
ADAM NOTICED CRESSA’S EYES widen, and she hesitated before rising to hug the man. Then they stepped apart and the guy glanced at him with curiosity before extending his hand to Alicia.
“I’m Brian McKenzie. I hope you don’t mind me intruding.” He smiled at Cressa. “I haven’t seen Cressa for a while and wanted to catch up.”
Ex-boyfriend or wannabe?
“I’m delighted you did,” said his mother. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Alicia.”
“And I’m Adam.” He rose and shook Brian’s hand. “Just passing, were you?”
Aroha Bay was the end of the road, thirty minutes out of Whangarimu. Brian’s rueful smile acknowledged Adam’s dig. “Not exactly. Mike and I flew in this morning and Juliet mentioned Cressa was staying here. It’s been a long time since I was up this way so I thought I’d use Cressa as an excuse to visit Northland again.”
Cressa smiled, but her shoulders were rigid and she didn’t say anything. Ex, Adam decided, and wondered why that was. Brian was good-looking in that Harvard kind of way that comes from generations of wealth interbreeding with beauty. His clothes were expensive and his manners seemed nice. All in all, he appeared the perfect package for a woman.
Adam, this isn’t easy to write, but I’m leaving you for someone else. He’s rich and successful and really nice. You’d like him. I promise he’ll make a wonderful father for Stella. You needn’t worry. Please don’t try to find us. It’s better for everyone if you let us go.
Crystal, as usual, had been wrong. He hated that unknown bastard who, all these years later, still made him feel inferior. Since then, Adam had also found it hard dealing with men who were like him—Brian, for instance.
“You’ll stay for dinner, of course,” said Alicia.
“I couldn’t impose—”
“You aren’t imposing. We’d love to have you.”
“Well, if you are sure…?” Brian looked at Cressa, who shrugged, but this time her smile appeared genuine.
“Of course. I’ll lay another place.”
Wannabe, Adam decided, noting the expression in the poor sap’s eyes. Poor, successful, rich, nice sap. Not that any of this was his business, of course. He’d woken this morning with the brain he’d misplaced somewhere in transit lodged firmly back in place. Cressa’s presence in the house needn’t be the disaster he’d foreseen last night. She’d be out all day working, and he’d be in his room at night, studying. They’d hardly run into each other at all. And mealtimes would be fine. She’d be a buffer between him and his mother, and his mother would be a buffer between him and Cressa. Simple.
He still writhed to think about Deirdre’s suit, but thank heavens he’d noticed her and been prevented from taking things too far with her daughter. Now nothing more than a dance—a close one, granted—lay between him and Cressa. If she mentioned anything, he would apologize, blaming jet lag and champagne. Which was true.
At least, it had all made sense when he’d been lying in bed with only a ceiling to stare at. Now that he had Cressa in front of him, he realized things weren’t going to be quite so easy. Her tight jeans and T-shirt showed off her curves. Her hair was in a long braid down her back and he remembered how it had felt sliding through his fingers. Outside the window, her bike sat parked next to his, and they looked pretty good together.
But if he’d required reminding that Cressa was a complication he didn’t need in his life right now, Brian’s arrival certainly helped to slap his resolve into shape. As Adam struggled to carve the chicken his mom had done her best to kill a second time, Brian produced two bottles of white wine. “I hope you like them. The wine is a new varietal.”
“Brian’s parents own a vineyard,” Cressa explained.
Why was Adam not surprised?
“None for me, thanks,” said Alicia, busy serving up the vegetables. “I don’t drink.”
Adam felt a flare of pride. It would be coming up five months since she’d stopped. Maybe Sass was right and she had changed. Then he watched the way the potatoes bounced as she tipped them into a serving bowl. Her cooking skills, it seemed, were the same as ever.
As Brian poured the wine into the other three glasses, he said with elaborate unconcern, “So, Cressa, I hear you’re seeing a French archaeologist?”
“Danish, and no, we finished a few weeks back. The French guy was a tour leader.”
“Ah. And wasn’t there a skier?”
Adam wondered why Brian would torture himself in this way but supposed it was like having a bad tooth—you just couldn’t help prodding it to see if it still hurt.
“Canadian.” Cressa smiled. “He was cool, into all that freestyle stuff. You’d have liked him, Adam.”
She certainly thought she had him pegged, he decided grimly. People always did. “I’ve never been skiing.” He’d never had the money for it.
“Really?” Both she and Brian spoke together, and exchanged equally surprised looks.
“I’m sure you’d enjoy it,” said Brian. “Cressa and I have had some wonderful times together on the slopes.”
Nice one. He might have polished manners and a vineyard, but Brian wasn’t above getting in the odd jab. It made him a bit more real. But Brian didn’t need to concern himself about Adam. For years after his divorce, Adam had kept all his relationships clean and easy and short. These days he was hanging out for something deeper, more permanent. Right at this moment, with his MCAT exam just weeks away, any sort of involvement was out of the question. Whichever way you looked at it, Cressa was a no-go zone.
They settled down to the meal. The extra setting cramped the table and the dinner was past saving, but the wine was excellent, as far as Adam could tell. His budget kept him well out of range of top wines. Alicia stuck to orange juice, and though he saw her glance at the bottle, she showed nothing of the cravings she might be fighting. She was gentle and soft, but she also had a tough core. Funny, he’d forgotten that.
When Brian tried to top up Adam’s glass, he covered it. “It’s great, but that’s enough for me.”
“So, Adam, I heard you used to do motorbike stunts, too. How did you get into it?” Brian looked interested, and tried to spear a potato with his fork. Now, how had he heard that? Cressa’s family? That would explain his unexpected appearance. The fork pinged off the potato. Surprised, Brian eyed the potato as though seeking a way to break into it. Hammer and chisel, Adam felt tempted to suggest.
“A misspent youth.”
“He bought his first motorcycle when he was thirteen,” said Alicia, covering for his abrupt answer. “I had no idea, but he got himself a job walking dogs and saved all his money under his mattress. I was appalled when he said he’d bought a bike off his friend’s brother.”
Cressa looked at him. “Only thirteen? You were a determined little chap.”
He could see admiration kindling in her gray-green eyes and for a second he felt tempted, cursing his exam.
“Nothing stops Adam,” said Alicia, “once he’s got an idea in his head. He’d visit Calvin, his friend, and ride that bike around and around their farm. Bert, Calvin’s father, assured me Adam had more natural instincts than any other kid he’d ever met. He knew what he was talking about, having four sons of his own.”
She still sounded proud of his riding skills, even though for years they’d caused her nothing but anxiety.
“Yeah, Bert was great. Took me and Cal to all the dirt bike events.” Adam laughed. “Now Cal drives an SUV with baby seats in the back.”
What had he said? Cressa’s face didn’t change at all, and neither did Brian’s, but Alicia must have felt the sudden stillness because she immediately chimed in. “What do you do, Brian?”
“I’m a doctor.”
Adam choked. Then patted his chest and peered reproachfully at the potato on his plate. He so should have guessed! Not content with movie star looks and being rich and nice, he had to go be a damn doctor, as well.
“Really,” said Alicia. “What branch are you in?”
“I’m a GP, but I’m thinking of specializing in pediatrics. There was this speaker at the conference I’ve just been at….” And Brian went on to talk about new discoveries in child cancer. Alicia was interested, but Cressa seemed to tune out of the conversation. Was it medicine or children she didn’t like? Adam noticed her glancing at her phone several times. Was she waiting for the skier or the archaeologist? Not that it was any of his business.
“Where did you two meet?” Alicia asked after a few minutes, turning to include Cressa.
“Brian is Juliet’s husband’s best friend.”
She said it so offhandedly that Brian looked as if she’d just slapped him.
“I’ve known Cressa since she was eighteen,” he added, staring into her eyes as though daring her to repudiate the fact. He wore his heart on his sleeve as if it were a fashion accessory. Adam couldn’t work out whether Brian was the bravest guy he’d met or the stupidest—despite being a doctor.
“Yeah, we went out for a few years, nearly married, but realized the folly of our ways.” Cressa was obviously making a big effort to keep her voice light. Against his will, Adam felt a tiny pull of sympathy for Brian. It appeared he wasn’t over his folly at all.
“So, Adam.” Brian focused on him again. “What line of work are you in these days?”
“Construction.”
“Really?” Brian sounded as though he hadn’t known, but if the family had talked about Adam’s stuntwork, he felt sure Deirdre would have mentioned his current occupation. “Was it hard to get leave to fly out here?”
“I quit the project.”
“Hmm. Anything lined up for when you return?” Brian sipped his wine, his eyes on Adam. What was he actually trying to find out?
“Nothing definite.” Whatever it was, Adam wasn’t going to supply the answer.
Cressa nodded. “Adam’s like me. He takes things as they come.”
She smiled at him across the table and Adam smiled back. His bad-boy smile that always worked. But he was relying on it for all the wrong reasons and he knew it. Part of him just wanted to rattle Brian’s cage. Which wasn’t fair—his beef wasn’t with this guy at all.
“More potatoes, Adam?” Brian smiled blandly as he passed the dish. Mom’s potatoes, a new weapon of war. “I’ve always had a sneaking envy of anyone with a Peter Pan complex—you know, no commitments, no steady job.”
Adam rose to the challenge and put another two potatoes—God help him—on his plate. Equally blandly, he replied, “Well, you only live once.” Steam still rose from the bowl as he set it on a mat between them.
“I’m curious, though,” Brian said. “Have you never wanted anything a little more permanent, now that you are getting older?”
Cressa rolled her eyes. “Oh, Brian, everything for you always comes down to making things safe and secure, doesn’t it?”
He looked at her. “As it turns out, not all my choices prove to be safe.”
Her eyes glittered with annoyance, but at that moment the phone in the living room rang, saving him from a sharp-tongued rebuke.
“That’ll be Sass,” said Alicia, beginning to rise. “She said she’d call when they arrived.”
Adam, though, wasn’t about to be deserted in the battle zone, and he pushed his chair back. “I’ll get it.”
He picked up the receiver, ready to give his sister an earful for catapulting him into this situation. “Hello.”
“Adam? It’s Deirdre.”
He slumped against the wall. “Hey, Deirdre. Look, I am so sorry about the suit. I’ll pay for—”
“Not at all. These things happen.” He’d never heard someone manage to sound both brisk and glacial. “Is Cressa there?”
“Yeah, we’re having dinner with Brian.”
“Brian?” Her voice warmed by ten degrees. “Juliet said he might drive up. What a nice gesture, especially as he must be tired after the conference.”
“He’s a nice guy,” Adam offered. He knew Brian’s hackles were up only because there was a stray in his territory.
“He is.” A slight pause followed, then her voice changed. “He’s part of the family. We all adore him.”
Adam straightened the picture hanging beside him. “Oh.”
“When Cressa comes to her senses, she’ll realize they are perfectly suited. Until then, Brian’s proving to have the patience of a saint.”
She sounded confiding, but Adam could tell when he was being warned off.
“Would you like me to get Cressa?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Adam.”
Class dismissed, he thought, and went back into the dining room. “Your mom’s on the phone.”
Cressa rolled her eyes, then glared at Brian as she pointed her finger. “This is your fault. I bet Juliet told her you’d be here. She really wants to talk to you and is only talking to me first to be polite.”
Brian laughed. “Rubbish. Your mother is devoted to you all. Now, go. Don’t keep her waiting.”
He shooed her off and Cressa, mimicking teenage surliness, pushed back her chair with an exaggerated sigh and went through to the other room with slumped shoulders and dragging feet. They all laughed at the performance.
“Perfected by her and her sisters over the years,” Brian said.
As is your closeness with Cressa and her family, Adam thought. If he hadn’t already decided Cressa was off-limits, if her mother hadn’t made it clear he wasn’t welcome, he might have felt jealous.
“Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I’d love some more of that wine, thanks, Brian.”
Cressa was back in just a few minutes. “I was right. She really wants to speak to you.”
As Brian left the room, her cell phone rang and she pounced on it. “Sorry, Alicia, but I’ve been waiting for this call.”
She exited into the hallway. Adam looked at his mother, who smiled and leaned forward to pat his hand. “I’m so glad you came, Adam. It’s lovely to see you again. I’ve loved being in New Zealand, but I’ve missed you.”
Funny, but he’d missed her and Sass, too, after they’d gone to New Zealand. Following years of seldom seeing one another, the three of them had gotten close while Alicia had been hospitalized with pneumonia and then had entered rehab for her alcoholism. Cole had been supportive, as well, sending letters and sketches from prison to entertain their mom.
“It’s great to see you, too,” he said, and was surprised at how truly he meant it. She’d fought amazing battles to get this far. He felt a flush of chivalric duty and again silently vowed to look after her any way he could over the next four weeks.
Brian and Cressa arrived back in the kitchen at the same time and took their seats. She was brimming with excitement and turned to Adam.
“You’ll never guess.”
He was beginning to learn surprises weren’t good in New Zealand, and couldn’t keep the suspicion out of his voice. “What?”
“I’ve got you some work on the set for the next few days. It’s only a bit part, but it may turn into more. Be ready for an early start tomorrow.”
He dropped his knife on the floor with a clatter and, in the few seconds required to retrieve it, tried to gather his scattered wits.
“I don’t need any work.” It was the best he could think of to say when he straightened.
Cressa leaned forward, eyes dancing. “I know you don’t need it, but Sass said you’d like it. It’ll save you from getting bored. She asked me to see what I could do. So I made a couple of phone calls and the powers that be were really pleased. We’re a warrior short because one of the stuntmen had to return to the States for a couple of weeks for his father’s funeral.” She leaned back, her triumph tangible. “You’ll get to meet lots of people and they’ll just love you! Isn’t that great?”
The same spacey sensation he’d suffered the day before descended on him, the feeling that everything was just out of focus, not quite real. “But,” he said, “I’m going to be busy.”
Cressa appeared surprised. “Doing what?”
Adam sensed Brian’s eyes on him. After their recent skirmishes, no way in hell did he want to admit in front of this guy that he was studying to get into medical school. He glanced at his mother, who appeared curious, a crease of worry between her eyebrows. This was so not the time or the place to tell her, either. Their relationship was too complicated and too fragile at this stage for offhand disclosure. It would kick up old history. So much best left unsaid.
Trapped, Adam uttered the first thing that came into his head. “I’ve got stuff to do.”
He could have kicked himself. Of all the lame excuses available, he’d managed to pick the lamest. Cressa was watching him and he could see questions backing up behind her lips, could feel the ground opening under his feet, so he said the one thing that would make the tense moment go away. “But hey, if it’s only a few days, then great. Yeah. Count me in.”
The brilliant smile Cressa beamed at him almost made the lie worthwhile, but Adam was too busy wondering how many grooms became widowers within their first month of marriage. Just wait till he got his hands on his well-meaning sister. Damn pain-in-the-Sass.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS MIDNIGHT when Adam decided to call it quits. After all, he thought wryly, tomorrow was an early start. Although he was still pissed with Sass and Cressa, the heat had gone out of his anger as he’d become absorbed in his studies. He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands, tired but satisfied. Despite the upsets of the evening, and the lingering jet lag, he’d still managed to get a few hours’ work under his belt. Some days he felt as though he was tilting at the moon. Other times, like now, he felt his goal was almost within his grasp.
He’d spent six long years juggling work and study to get his degree. If he cracked the MCAT in a month’s time and did get accepted into medical school, the next decade would be even tougher. He was mad to even contemplate signing away his life like this, but the desire to be a surgeon burned deep and wouldn’t let him walk away, no matter how tempted he sometimes was.
Being pinned to the spot by Cressa earlier had left him in a devilish predicament. His gallant arrival in New Zealand to allow his sister to enjoy a long honeymoon should not have backfired on him this way. He had a tingling of uneasy presentiment, but damn it, he had the right to not tell anyone about his crazy dream. If it came off, all well and good, everyone would be delighted and he’d be happy to celebrate with them all. If not, he’d want to lick his wounds alone, especially away from Alicia. A man ought to be free to make a bid for the stars without the weight of his mother’s hopes and anxieties on his shoulders; and he ought to be allowed to fail without the burden of her parental guilt. Ideally, he had to admit, he’d also like to escape having to endure public sympathy and pity. Was that so much to ask? Authors wrote novels in back rooms at midnight; inventors experimented in the hidden shelter of garden sheds. Surely he was entitled to his own privacy.
Why, then, this guilt? Why this sinking feeling because he hoped to preserve his secret for a month? After all, he’d already succeeded for six years. How ironic that he should find himself so close to being outed just when the end was in sight.
And all because of Cressa and Sass and their infernal meddling.
Pushing these thoughts to one side, Adam stretched and became aware that the house was strangely quiet. Where were Brian and Cressa? Had Brian ended up staying the night? After dinner, Adam had left them discussing plans. Thirsty, he now prowled through the house to grab a drink before going to bed. Silence. The door to the master bedroom was shut. He had a fleeting image of Brian and Cressa tucked up in the double bed, which he immediately banished. He grabbed the juice from the fridge, a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a long drink, which he downed at the sink. Craning his neck, he looked out the window. The Porsche had gone.
He put the glass in the dishwasher and closed it quietly so as not to disturb Cressa, then padded to the bathroom. The door to her room stood ajar. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help glancing in. The room was empty. That is, its occupant wasn’t there, but her possessions had commandeered the space. Her helmet perched on the desk; her red jacket lay slung over the back of the chair. Her big black boots had been kicked off to one corner. Her bag occupied the lower bunk, its contents strewn across the duvet. An iPod and her cell phone out on the pillow of the top bunk.
Something caught his eye through the window and he moved into the unlit room to look closer. Moonlight illuminated the garden, casting shadows under the trees and turning the harbor to beaten silver. A shadowed silhouette stood by the water’s edge. She raised her arms to twist her heavy hair into a knot on top of her head, then waded into the silver water. It was too dark to tell if she wore a wetsuit or not. She got in up to her knees and hesitated. He wasn’t surprised. He’d dipped his hand in the water earlier today and it had been freezing. She waded deeper. When the water reached her hips, she slid down, and all he could see was a tiny black head with silver ripples widening about her. She was either brave or crazy.
At the same time she looked very alone in the beautiful scene. The vision stirred something in him. Then she turned and began to wade swiftly out. No wetsuit, then.
He shot out of her room, racing to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get out of her way. Her toiletries bag was already there, toothbrush set in the mug next to his. Her shampoo alongside his. And her towel, thrown over the rail, partially covered his.
He was in bed when he heard soft footsteps go past his room. The shower went on. The water would feel good on icy skin. Smoothing away goose bumps.
Relaxing muscles tensed with cold. Releasing clenched teeth into a sigh of pleasure.
He dropped an arm over his eyes, trying to banish the all-too-vivid images, and groaned. His worries about spending a month alone with his mother seemed laughable compared with the predicament he now faced. Thank you, Sass! He should have kept his big mouth shut. He thought back to the clear-headed resolutions he’d made that morning. Clear-headed but, he now realized, hopelessly naive.
Okay. He could cope with the four weeks in New Zealand. He could cope with having a job for a few days. But Cressa was a whole different problem. He’d seen how she was already taking over the house. There was no way he could allow her to hijack his thoughts, his desires and his precious, fast-disappearing time in the same insidious but thorough manner. He could not—would not—allow his body to betray his mind at this stage.
Distance. It was all about keeping the hell away from her. She’d soon get the message.
CHAPTER SIX
“AND ACTION!”
Cressa hurtled down the hillside, through the forest, at a teeth-rattling speed. Trees, tightly packed on either side, swept past in a blur. Cracks of machine gun fire stuttered overhead and a bomb exploded as she shot by, showering her in earth and leaf mold. Her concentration remained zeroed in on the thin path zigzagging downward in front of her. Tree roots, rocks and rotting logs were the real hazards in this sequence.
She hit her skid mark as Jasper leaped out in front of her, brandishing a hand grenade. Gunning her bike, she whirled and plunged down the new track they’d made, barely discernible in the thick undergrowth of ferns and creepers. Her bike was nearly on its nose as she came to the most dangerous part of the stunt. She had to hit the target launch perfectly to sail out over a small bluff and clear the stream. A couple of inches either way would skew her flight and she’d crash into the water or the unforgiving ground.
She saw the mark Adam had left and hit it square on. The bike lifted and for a second she hovered. Sunlight. Stream. Forest. Weightless and floating. Then every bone jarred as she landed with textbook precision. Or rather, Adam’s precision. He’d mapped out this run to perfection.
She killed the engine and took off her helmet, adrenaline fizzing in her blood. She heard scattered applause from some of the onlookers, and Adam stepped out of the shadow of the trees.
“That wasn’t the speed we agreed on, Cressa.”
Did he have a speedometer in his head? She rolled her eyes. “I landed the stunt. Aren’t you pleased?”
He strode over to her bike and grabbed the handlebars, straddling the front wheel so he could eyeball her. “I’ll be pleased when you learn to take direction.”
“I knew I could do it faster, and I proved that, didn’t I?”
Adam pulled the bike nearer so his face was inches from hers. His voice low and angry. “This isn’t about proving things, to yourself or anyone else. It’s not a game, Cressa. I know for you this is a one-off job, so not that serious, but if you’re wanting to test your personal limits, crap like that, do it on your own time. The rest of the people here are professionals.”
That stung. “I’m a professional!”
“No,” he said, “you’re not. You’re just playing at being one. This time you were only risking your own sorry ass, but if you push the limits when other people are involved, you could endanger them. Got that?”
Of course she wouldn’t endanger anyone. But she didn’t have the chance to defend herself. He’d already backed off the bike and walked away. She hated that. Hated people who had the last word. Except yelling after him would seem, well, unprofessional. In the end, he had the final word, because after just a couple of days on the set, he outranked her. She couldn’t believe how fast it had happened. The first day he was an extra obeying orders; the second day he was chatting to stunt coordinators; the third day he was managing some of the bike sequences. It wasn’t even as though he’d pushed himself forward, but when he talked, they listened.
Initially, Cressa had been pleased, taking an almost proprietary pride in him fitting in so easily. Then she’d had to start accepting direction from him and that had turned out not to be much fun at all. She was used to people listening to her, not the other way round. Plus he had no sense of humor. Her entire life she’d been a clown, but now if she kidded around at work, she got the evil eye. He reminded her of her mother!
Sam, one of the other Valkyrie stuntwomen, strolled over. “Well?”
Cressa did a thumbs-down. “He’s pissed because I went a teensy bit faster than he told me to.”
“Ah, I thought you’d stepped it up.”
“What’s the big deal? I could do it far more quickly. I told him at the time, but as always, he just ignored me.”
Sam punched Cressa on the arm. “Stop whining. You should know by now—if it can be done slower, he’ll do it slower.”
“And if I can do it faster, I want to do it faster.”
“We’re lucky he’s so careful. If we fall in these—” Sam indicated the skimpy Roman-army-style tunics they wore “—we’ll be skinned alive. Come on, let’s get a coffee.”
They dropped the bike off with the other two parked in the shade and made their way up the hill to where the forest finished abruptly. A makeshift camp of trailers, awnings and a few portable toilets had been set up in the field.
Bridget, the third Valkyrie stuntwoman, was doing Sudoku at one of the plastic tables by the food trailer. Sam and Cressa got their coffees and joined her.
“Jeez, these costumes are uncomfortable,” Sam said as she sat down, trying to arrange the blades of the very short, rubberized armored skirt under her incredibly long, slender thighs.
“Tell me about it,” said Bridget, squeezing each side of her ribs to ease her breasts, which were sheathed in the tight faux leather corset. “It’s particularly hard on us well-endowed girls.”
Cressa laughed. “No sympathy here for your endowments, Bid. They’re the talking point of the whole crew.”
It was true. Every male eye was drawn to her assets, which brimmed over the tightly laced top.
“Yeah,” Bridget replied, “but they still aren’t getting me where I want to be.”
Cressa followed her gaze to see Jeremy, the sound engineer, was now fiddling with the boom mike. She’d been pining to catch the shy engineer’s attention for weeks now. Behind Jeremy, Cressa spotted Adam squatting beside the bikes, checking tires and suspension. Secretly, she was impressed by his single-minded professionalism, which ran like steel beneath his seeming affability. Alpha males were usually center-stage guys. Adam simply slipped in and took control.
“Ask Jeremy out for a drink,” Cressa suggested.
Bid sighed. “I tried, but he blushed and stammered out some awful excuse.”
“It’s because he thinks you’re out of his league,” said Sam. “You’re going to have to show him you are interested in his mind. All he sees is you wrestling buff warriors day in, day out. Of course he feels intimidated.” She turned to Cressa and grinned. “I don’t imagine Adam feels intimidated. You have a whole different set of problems there. How’s Operation Texas going at home?”
Sam was older than them and had a predatory approach to relationships. She enjoyed the stalking, the catch. Then she’d walk away in search of a new victim. Cressa found this worldly approach to relationships refreshing, and she was amused by Sam’s good-natured, cynical take on life.
“Better than here, I hope,” said Bid. “Face it. When Adam’s at work, that’s his focus.”
They had quickly picked up on Cressa’s interest in Adam but spoke of it lightly because she hadn’t told them about the amazing connection she’d felt when she and Adam first met. It would have sounded stupid, especially as Adam hadn’t indicated since, in any way, that he’d felt it, too. In fact, if not for the photo of herself in his camera, she might have thought she’d imagined the whole thing. Her ongoing failure to secure Adam’s attention, however, amused Sam, who had turned it into a game. Cressa played along. After all, she prided herself in being able to enjoy relationships without getting too involved or experiencing any of the angst.
Cressa made a face. “He’s more terminator than man. When the phone rang yesterday, I ran to answer it wrapped in nothing but a towel. He walked past while I was talking and didn’t even try to cop a look.”
“You must be doing it wrong,” said Sam. “Hey, he’s coming over now. Watch and learn from the professionals, little girl.” She nodded to Bid. “And action!”
Adam sauntered up to their table. “When you’ve finished, Hank wants to do the fight scene and then we’ll go over the escape run. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Sam, smiling up at him. “Why don’t you join us for a few minutes.” In a way that displayed the full, glorious length of her leg, she pushed the empty chair toward him with her foot.
“Yes, do.” Bid leaned on her forearms, maximizing the effect of her tight corset.
“You could do with a break,” said Cressa, joining in and arching back to lift her heavy hair, as though the weight of it was too much to bear. “You haven’t stopped since the moment you arrived.”
Adam looked from Sam to Bid to Cressa, then smiled as he shook his head and slipped into a broad cowboy drawl. “Why, thank y’all for your invitation, but ya think I can’t spot trouble at fifty paces? Try Jeremy over there.” He grinned at Bid. “He’d just love to sit with you gals. I’ll see you in one hour.”
With a flip of his hand, he walked away.
Bid rounded on her. “Cressa! I don’t want you blabbing to everyone that I fancy Jeremy.”
With a small frown, Cressa watched Adam’s retreating back. “I didn’t. Honest.”
How had Adam picked that one up? She’d thought he was completely immersed in his work here.
“In—ter—es—ting. He didn’t miss a beat, did he? You’ve got yourself a real challenge there.” She stretched out so both feet now rested on the empty chair, her eyes following Adam. “Maybe I should join in on Operation Texas. What do you think, Cressa? May the best woman win?”
Cressa felt a flush of annoyance with Sam. And with Operation Texas. Which was stupid, because they were only kidding around. She wound her hair up and tied it into a heavy knot at her nape. “Boring. Time for another subject.”
Sam laughed. “Okay, I’ll take Hank instead.”
Hank was the fight coordinator, with the body of a gladiator.
“He’s a person, not a conquest,” Cressa snapped. She wasn’t sure if she was talking about Adam or Hank.
Bid threw her a sidelong glance. “Touchy all of a sudden, aren’t you?”
“No. But I’d like to talk about something other than blokes for a change.”
“Agreed,” said Sam. “I nominate literature. So, what did you think of the ending to War and Peace? Did you find it ended on a whimper when you expected a bang?”
“The characterization was what I enjoyed,” said Bid. “Robust, yet poignant.”
“You can’t say that,” Sam objected. “That’s the same line you used to describe the wine last night. Which was execrable, in any case.”
Cressa laughed. “The wine or the line?”
“Both,” said Sam.
“Oi!” Bid protested in mock outrage. “That’s my most useful stock phrase. You’d be amazed at the number of different conversations I can work it into.”
Cressa drained her cup and looked at her friends affectionately, her irritation forgotten. “C’mon, guys. Let’s go wrestle.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADAM WAS SURPRISED Cressa was home that evening for dinner. Maybe it was because it had started raining when they got home. She’d been out every other night, visiting her cousin, going out with the other Valkyries, catching a movie. She couldn’t seem to just sit. Couldn’t be with her own company. He wondered what that was about.
His mom was happy. “How wonderful to have you join us. I’ve made chili. There’s plenty for everyone.”
“Fabulous, thanks,” said Cressa, pulling up her chair. “I’m starving.”
Tonight her hair was in a long ponytail that fell over her right shoulder. His resolve to hold her at a distance was enjoying only limited success. Yes, he had kept things professional, but he was having to work hard not to look at her too much. In one fight scene he’d gotten a helluva whack on the head from a wooden shield when he’d been distracted by her broadsword and flying leather skirts, her braid swinging in an arc as she ducked and twirled in a beautifully choreographed sequence.
Cressa heaped her plate with rice and his mother’s special chili. Adam watched with interest as she took her first mouthful. She coughed, spluttered and grabbed a glass of water. “Wow. That’s hot.”
Alicia sounded surprised. “Oh, dear, have I put too much spice in?”
She’d been putting in way too much spice for as far back as Adam could remember. Her chili used to lay his friends out flat, and he and Cole had had a running competition to see who could eat most before diving for the water jug.
“No, it’s lovely.” said Cressa, her voice hoarse as she blinked away the tears. “Great.”
Adam smiled. Payback for her insubordination.
“So how was today?” Alicia asked. It was the same question she used to ask every day after school.
“Good.”
And it was the same reply he’d always given. It had served its purpose then and it had served its purpose these past few days when only he and his mom had been around. It set a nice, easy, conversational tone that carried them through each meal.
“Good?” Cressa dropped her fork and stared at him. “First he shouted at me for going too fast—”
“I didn’t shout.”
“Then he got mad at one of the mechanics because a brake line on one of the bikes snapped.”
“The fool should have picked it up. He was lucky there wasn’t a serious accident.”
“And then,” said Cressa, still ignoring him, “he stepped onto a rotten log, dislodged a wasp nest and got stung three times.” She grinned smugly. “I think it was fate getting him back for being so high-handed.”
“High-handed? I was doing my job, Cressa. The one you got me.”
“Wrong!” She pointed her fork at him. “I got you a nice little number as an insignificant stuntman like the rest of us. It was you who moved in and just took over.”
With a so-there toss of her head, she scooped up another mouthful of chili—and choked. Served her right.
“I haven’t taken over, I’ve simply got some expertise that they are using.” He’d meant to sound calm and rational. He was annoyed to hear the so-there in his voice, too.
His mother smiled. “Dear me. Things certainly sound far more eventful today than on previous days.”
He cast her a sidelong glance but there was nothing to read in her face except demure interest.
Cressa shook her head as she loaded her fork with a five-to-one ratio of rice to chili. “I simply don’t understand how such a nice woman like you, Alicia, could have produced such an infuriating son. I bet his dad was overbearing in that same quiet way.”
A stillness fell over the table. Cressa glanced up. “Oh, shit. Have I put my foot in it? Sorry, Alicia.”
Alicia’s laugh was a shade too tinkling. “Of course not.”
Adam wanted to wring Cressa’s neck. He and his mom had managed just fine. The two of them had enjoyed perfectly reasonable, friendly chats every night. Cressa was home for one night and already she was upsetting things. Glaring, he said, “We don’t talk about him.”
Cressa, typically, paid him no attention. She was looking at Alicia. “How come?”
His mother stirred a portion of rice and chili together, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “It upsets Adam.”
He was taken aback. “No, it doesn’t. We don’t talk about him because it upsets you.”
She was surprised. “Why should it upset me?”
“Because…” He floundered. “Well, because you never mention him.”
“Because you got so angry the one time I tried to tell you about him. Don’t you remember?”
Adam stared at her. “What?”
Alicia put her fork down and faced him. “When you were about six, you asked why you looked different from the rest of us. I tried to explain, but when I got to the part where Dad—Cole and Sass’s father—wasn’t yours, you covered your ears with your hands and ran screaming from the room.”
He had vague memories of that now. Strange, how he’d never remembered before.
She picked up her fork again. “Of course, I completely understood. Terrence, to do him credit, had always treated you exactly the same as the other two. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”
Adam thought of their father, tall, blond, good-looking, humorous. They’d all adored him—when he was around, which wasn’t that often, even before he took off completely. Adam had wondered a lot over the years how his dad had really felt about having this dark kid foisted upon him, proof to the world that he’d been cuckolded.
“Was I the reason Dad left?” he asked abruptly.
Alicia appeared horrified. “No! Absolutely not. He’d have gone whether you were there or not, Adam. You have to believe that.” She paused and added more matter-of-factly, “Some men aren’t meant to marry, Adam. Terrence was one of them. He loved being on the rodeo circuit. He was never a ‘nine-to-five, come home to the kids’ sort of man. Not deep down. We only married because I was pregnant with Sass. Looking back, I see that’s the worst reason to get married.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Cressa was so emphatic that both Adam and Alicia stared at her. “But, Alicia, you still haven’t said what Adam’s real father was like. Was he all macho and bossy?”
His mother’s eyes softened in memory. “No, Adam’s father was a modern-day troubadour. A man with a heart full of poems and not a cent in his pockets.”
“Wow, he sounds so romantic, whereas Adam—” she looked at him pointedly “—so isn’t. How did you guys meet?”
It didn’t matter how they met, and it wasn’t any of Cressa’s damn business. He pushed his plate away and was suddenly aware of how airless the kitchen felt, the heat of the oven fogging up the windows. His mother smiled. “He came to our school to talk about poetry to some of our writing classes.”
Poetry! Oh, jeez. Why the hell couldn’t he have had a real job, been a truck driver or something? His mom really knew how to pick them.
“And were there sparks the first time you laid eyes on him?” Though she’d asked Alicia the question, Cressa glanced sideways at Adam.
“Why, yes, there were. Funny you should ask. There was this strange electricity between us. Hard to explain.”
“I think I know what you mean,” said Cressa. “What was his name?”
Adam’s stomach hollowed at the question.
“Adahy Wilson. A lot of the time he was just called Andy, but his real name was Adahy. It means ‘lives in the woods.’”
“Adahy.” He tested the name. “Adahy Wilson.”
He must have spoken, because Cressa stared at him. “Don’t tell me you never even knew his name.”
Alicia cut in. “That’s my fault. He never asked, so I never told him. I should have.”
Adam was hating this whole conversation, but what the hell, now that Cressa had started poking around, he had a few questions of his own. One in particular that he’d never dared ask. “Did he know about me?”
“No.”
At that single word, emotion jagged so sharply that Adam couldn’t identify it. Relief? Anger? Disbelief?
Alicia continued. “You see, we only saw each other for a month—Terrence was away. Adahy moved on and I never tried to contact him.”
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Zana Bell
“I want the whole damned picket fence.”
Cressa didn’t know what to say, how to answer Adam’s proclamation. The wide-open spaces of the Galveston coast suddenly seemed too big. She felt swallowed up by it all. She was filled with a need for the green hills of home, for the safety of Aroha Bay. For a world where the scale was reasonable and the people predictable. Where the men were manageable. Only Adam, she thought bitterly, could make a proposal sound like a challenge. But before she could begin to frame an answer, Adam stepped close and clutched her arms.
“Don’t say it,” he whispered. “Don’t you dare.” His face was very close to hers, his breath warm on her cheeks. “You know what, Cressa? I’m going to save us both from repeating patterns. To save you from being the one who quits yet again and me from being the one abandoned. I’ve had one wife walk out on me. This time I’m going to walk away.”
Dear Reader,
Have you taken any risks lately? The gatekeepers to dreams, risks have to be braved before we can move forward or upward. Yet the task of identifying risks can be a slippery one as they are intensely personal; one person’s risk is simply another person’s thrill. Also, while many risks are physical or financial, some of the scariest are emotional. In the worst extremes, we risk our lives. In love, we risk our hearts.
We take the risk when the dream is more powerful than the fear.
We know this. We have age-worn sayings to remind us: faint heart never won fair lady; nothing ventured, nothing gained. We know—and yet all too often we hesitate. Fools rush in, we tell ourselves. We fear failure. We are afraid, even more, of people witnessing this failure.
And so what if we are afraid? It doesn’t need to stop us! I had a lot of fun writing this book in which the daredevil hero and heroine would infinitely prefer to jump out of airplanes than risk confronting their deepest, secret desires and pain. It is a book about past demons, conflicting goals, disguised defences and, above all, love in all its glorious, messy confusion.
Here’s to you and your pursuit of dreams—despite all their pesky attendant risks and fears.
Zana Bell
P.S. I love hearing from readers. Please contact me
c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road,
Don Mills, ON, M3B 3K9, Canada.
A Risk Worth Taking
Zana Bell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Life used to be full of risks for Zana Bell, who grew up in Zimbabwe, went to university in South Africa then lived hand to mouth in Scotland, England and Greece where she took a wide variety of jobs, each of which presented its own challenges. Then she immigrated to New Zealand and she now lives a richly blessed life with her family in a beautiful seaside cottage. Adventures are still to be had in Paradise, however, as on a regular basis New Zealand provides cyclones, floods, earthquakes and even the odd volcanic eruption. But as her deepest fear is public humiliation, signing up for dancing lessons when she lacks any sense of rhythm whatsoever might yet prove to be the scariest venture of all….
To Sally and Alan,
who constantly blaze new trails.
You are an inspiration.
Special thanks also to my splendid editor,
Victoria Curran.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
PROLOGUE
THIS WAS THE HAPPIEST DAY of her life. That’s what everyone said. Cressa stared out of the window of the limousine, as the world spun past her. Everywhere in the city people were going to movies and restaurants or to the beach or playing sports, and here she sat, imprisoned in this white, beribboned Jaguar.
It’s just nerves, she thought to herself. Again. All brides have them.
She glanced at her father, seated beside her. He looked so handsome and proud. He smiled at her and patted her hands, clasped in her lap. “Nearly there.”
He thought she was being impatient. Her stomach rumbled, soured by champagne and doubt, and she rubbed it. Only a month ago she’d carried life there. For such a short time, really, yet it had created a nightmare of intense, conflicting emotions that she still did not know how to deal with. But now wasn’t the time. Not the place. She resolutely pushed the feelings aside.
“Dad,” she said. “I’ve got to pee.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“But…” He gestured helplessly out the window. They were driving through the outskirts of Auckland. The church where Brian was waiting for her was set on a hill surrounded by fields. Perfect, her mother had said, for photos.
“Please, Dad.”
He leaned forward and tapped the chauffeur on the shoulder. “We need to find a restroom.”
The driver flicked her a startled glance in his rearview mirror.
“Better text your sisters,” said Dad. “They can go on and tell people we’re coming.”
“Fine.”
She’d just texted the car behind, containing her four very excited sisters, when the chauffeur said, “There’s a petrol station up ahead.”
“Perfect.”
The car with her bridesmaids shot past them as they turned into the gas station. All her sisters waved madly and pulled silly faces. Cressa would have laughed if she hadn’t been so close to tears. As soon as the Jag stopped, she opened the door, then paused.
“I won’t be long.” She kissed her father on the cheek. “You’re the best, Dad.”
“I know all about performance nerves,” he assured her. “I always feel nauseous before I go onstage. Take as long as you need, sweetheart. This is your day.”
She heard good-natured laughter from the other customers and saw pointing fingers as she dashed through the convenience shop to the loo outback, but she didn’t care. Her veil was a nuisance, though, and it snagged on some boxes of biscuits on one of the shelves. She tugged and several boxes fell as her veil came loose. As she bent to pick them up, she realized she was still clutching her cell phone.
“Don’t worry,” said a teenage girl, rushing forward. “I’ll get them.” She smiled shyly. “You look beautiful.”
Cressa could see envy in the girl’s eyes. What would she have said if Cressa had asked, “Want to swap places?”
Fortunately, the restroom was a wheelchair one, so her voluminous dress wouldn’t get crushed. The size of the cubicle also meant she could pace, two steps forward, two back, her skirts sweeping the concrete floor. She couldn’t bail. Couldn’t do that to Brian, to her parents, to her sisters, to all the guests.
But she couldn’t say the vows, either.
She was sure to the pit of her stomach that she would never be able to utter those two words, I do.
Why did it have to be today that all her fears, all her misgivings had finally crystallized into one big, fat, undeniable conviction that she was on the brink of making the worst mistake of her life? A week ago wouldn’t have been so bad. Yesterday would still have been salvageable. But today? Now? Ten minutes away from the church? To be having these thoughts now was unforgivable.
She crossed to the sink, put her cell phone down and turned on the tap. She wished she could splash water in her face but didn’t dare spoil the lovely makeup that had taken over an hour to do. Instead, she held her wrists under the cold water.
Above the sink, her white reflection stared back at her in a fly-spotted mirror. The light wasn’t good, and the window above the loo had misted glass that probably enhanced her ghostly pallor. The window.
She turned slowly, gazed at it, then shook her head. She couldn’t. Then she thought of standing at the altar, saying her vows and becoming Mrs. Brian McKenzie forever.
Cressa shut off the water, grabbed her phone, flipped the toilet lid down and scrambled up on it. Luckily, the window was hinged at the top and quite wide. She hoisted herself up and landed half in, half out of it. Her veil fell forward over her head and dragged in the dust below. A couple of hairpins dislodged and she felt some of her heavy hair come free from the elaborate bun. The window frame dug into her stomach. Her feet no longer reached the toilet seat, but scrabbled against the wall, tangling in her skirts as she levered herself slowly forward. It wasn’t easy, especially since she still clutched her phone.
Her father would be wondering what had happened to her. At the sound of fabric ripping, she winced. Sorry, Ma. The dress had snagged on the window catch. Cressa wriggled to free herself. Then she was hanging, her thighs on the ledge. Only one way to go now. She gave an extra heave and slithered headfirst down the cobwebby wall to crash onto the grass, banging her elbow painfully. She scrambled to her feet, veil hanging over her face, hair in tangles. With a jerk, she wrenched the veil from her head, causing more locks to fall free. Then she picked up her cell phone, which she’d dropped, and looked around.
Two guys were sitting in a pickup, hamburgers halfway to their mouths, gasping in astonishment. Did white knights come with adolescent pimples and scraggly hair?
She ran over to the truck window. “You’ve got to get me outta here,” she said in a low voice.
They nodded mutely.
“Now!”
At her tone, learned over the years from her mother, a high school principal, they jumped in response. As Cressa pulled open the door, they swallowed their burgers like baby pythons, not stopping to bite or chew. She admired their economy of movement.
“Move over,” she ordered, and hauled herself and her skirts into the tiny cabin, realizing she’d have to crouch at their feet. She squished down, her wedding dress nestling like a marshmallow around her. The cabin was filthy, but dirtying her dress was probably the least damage her actions of the past five minutes would cause. The guys’ boots were eyewateringly malodorous, but she didn’t care. A sense of appalled elation was bubbling up inside her.
“Let’s go,” she urged. “Quick.”
The boys exchanged grins and the pickup roared off with a wheelie that was completely gratuitous, but somehow suited the occasion. She fell sideways as the truck rounded the corner of the gas station, then she was slammed again when the youthful rescuer driving the truck pulled another squealing wheelie as he turned onto the road and sped off.
Her heart was still pounding, but for the first time that day, her mind was completely calm as she began to text her sisters once more.
CHAPTER ONE
Two Years Later
THE HARDEST THING to explain, either to herself or others, was that she had no aversion to weddings as such. There was, in fact, lots to enjoy about them. Right now, Cressa was taking malicious glee in watching her cousin Jake, usually the supercool surfie, straighten his vest for the third time in as many minutes as he stood on the deck of the sleep-out, waiting for his bride to emerge from the main house.
As for the setting of this wedding, it was perfect. A house on the beach in Aroha Bay—Bay of Love. What could be more fitting? The harbor provided the backdrop for the groom, best man and celebrant, with winter sunlight reflecting off the tranquil high tide. Behind the guests, tables with white cloths, laden with plates and glasses, had been positioned under trees festooned with streamers. Fairy lights had been threaded through the branches, ready for the night’s entertainment. Cressa had never seen the old house look so festive.
Even the weather was behaving unexpectedly well for an outside wedding, and had provided one of those wonderful Northland midwinter days of blue skies and blue sea. All the guests gathered on the lawn below the sleep-out were wearing sunglasses and many had shrugged off their jackets in the unexpected warmth.
Cressa also loved a good party, and all her favorite people in the world were clustered around her at this one. She glanced affectionately at her parents and her four sisters, Juliet, Portia, Desdemona and Katherine.
“Really, Cressa,” muttered her mother. “I do wish you hadn’t worn black.”
Cressa looked down at the leather miniskirt she’d found in a secondhand shop and the satin top with spaghetti straps, and grinned inwardly. What would a family gathering be without Ma finding something about her to criticize?
“You should be glad I’m not wearing my boots,” she hissed back.
She’d foregone her ancient Doc Martens in favor of a pair of high-heeled shoes borrowed from Des, the baby of the family and its fashionista. The shoes were a nuisance, though, because the heels kept getting stuck in the lawn.
Her thoughts returned to weddings and she wondered about the nature of love. People, she was sure, married for all sorts of reasons. Perhaps there was the fear of living alone forever. Maybe they simply confused sex or friendship with something more. And let’s face it, after a certain age, going to parties and dinners was way easier to do as part of a couple than as a single person.
Yet Cressa had to admit that denying the whatever-it-was that had such a tangible effect on people was hard. She eyed her cousin. Jake could surf deadly ninety-foot walls of water, yet here he was, as jumpy as a kitten, running his fingers through tousled tawny curls for the umpteenth time as he leaned over to say something to his best man, Rob. Rob shot him a big-brother grin, patted his tuxedo pocket and gave a thumbs-up to indicate that yes, he still had the ring.
“What’s keeping Sass?” demanded Des in a whisper that carried to the guests, causing some to glance around. “We’ve been waiting ages.”
As if on cue, the opening chords of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” erupted from the speakers suspended from the branches of the pohutukawa tree. Everyone turned and a collective sigh rose from the crowd. Sass looked lovely in an ivory dress that hugged her trim midriff, then flared from her hips. Her blond hair was loose and she carried a simple bouquet.
Cressa was certainly not immune to the sight of a beautiful bride. Tears pricked her eyes as she watched Sass make her way down the steps, her mother beside her. She appeared composed and confident, and as she gazed across the guests to Jake, a dazzling smile lit her face. Their union did seem, Cressa had to concede, very much like true love.
Given all the advantages she could see in weddings, her misgivings must therefore have their root in the happily-ever-after bit, she concluded thoughtfully. She just didn’t buy that. And if one really did live in marital bliss forever, well, where was the fun and adventure? It sounded like Sunday-school heaven: serene, beautiful—and mind-numbingly boring.
With a deep breath and an inward sigh, Cressa straightened, bracing herself to listen to vows that would lock her dashing cousin and his beautiful, strong-minded Texan wife in bland matrimony for the rest of their lives. But just as Sass reached the steps of the deck, the throaty roar of a motorcycle drowned out the music.
Bride forgotten, all heads whipped around to watch as the bike plunged down the steep driveway at a suicidal pace, swerved just in time around a pothole, only to hit a root. The bike launched and flew through the air for the last few yards before landing with a thump and skidding to a halt in front of the stunned gathering. The rider killed the engine and eased back in the saddle, looking blankly at the guests through his visor as though taken aback to suddenly be the center of attention.
“Adam!”
Sass abandoned her husband-to-be and rushed over to hug the man as he swung off the bike.
“Is that the brother?” whispered Juliet.
“Must be,” Portia muttered.
“They’re completely different,” said Katherine, pointing out the obvious when the man removed his helmet and enfolded his sister and then his mother in great bear hugs, his black hair and olive skin contrasting sharply with their fairness.
“Wow! He’s gorgeous,” Des murmured. “I bet he’s an Eastern European spy.”
Cressa smiled, remembering the silly game they used to play when sitting in the mall as teenagers. “Or a Mississippi steamboat gambler,” she whispered back.
“Oh, yeah!” Des fanned her cheeks with her hands, as Juliet cast them a withering look.
Juliet’s demeanor was another strike against marriage. Since her wedding to Mike a year earlier, she had become exceedingly dull company. Cressa had skipped that wedding because Brian had been Mike’s best man. Even Ma had agreed that Cressa’s absence might be the best option. Mike was away at a conference this weekend, and Cressa supposed Brian was there, too.
“Adam!” Jake vaulted off the deck and strode across the grass to shake his brother-in-law’s hand. “We thought you’d never make it after your flight was delayed.”
“Well, there was this real helpful ground attendant…” His voice was warm and deep, with the same slow Texan drawl as his sister’s.
“Around Adam there always is,” said Sass resignedly. “What was her name?”
Her brother just smiled. “She found a spare seat on a different airline and voilà.” He turned to Jake. “Tell me I’m not too late to give Sass away. I’d hate to miss the opportunity of a lifetime.” He looped an arm around his sister and squeezed. “No one else would be rash enough to take her on.”
Sass whacked him with her bouquet. “I might have known that even at my wedding you’d find a way to upstage me.” She tucked a hand into his arm. “Come on, you’ve arrived just in time.”
Amid laughter and the buzz of comments, someone got the music going again and the Texan siblings waited for Jake to return to the deck before they walked arm in arm through the crowd as it parted for them. The brother passed so close to Cressa she could have put out her hand and touched him, but his attention was on his sister as he beamed down at her. Sass’s blond hair and classical looks made her brother’s dark features even more dramatic. They mounted the steps of the deck and Cressa noted he was almost as tall as her cousin. Adam bent his head and kissed Sass’s cheek, before placing her hand in Jake’s. Then he stepped aside and the ceremony began.
Despite thinking she was completely over her own wedding-that-never-was, and despite her rationalization of the whole marriage scene, Cressa began to feel slightly sick as the ceremony progressed. Marriage-a-phobia? She couldn’t flee and disgrace herself a second time. Think about something else.
She focused on Sass’s brother. Adam. Nice name. Very Genesis. His thick black hair fell straight to his collar, and even though she could see only part of his face, his hawkish nose and knife-blade cheekbones were striking.
He’d handled his bike like a pro. She should know, having nearly hurtled off her own bike when going too fast down that treacherous driveway full of ruts and stones. How long was he staying in New Zealand?
She was dimly aware of soft Texan vows entwining with the more staccato Kiwi ones, so she deliberately turned her thoughts to the bike. She guessed it was a 600. She’d always wanted to try something that big. She looked back at Adam. Would he let her take it for a ride? After all, they were family now. She screwed up her face as she tried to determine the relationship. He was the brother of her cousin-in-law, which would perhaps make them cousins-in-law once removed. Twice, if you took in national differences.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The words rang out, snapping her back to the proceedings. As Jake gathered the new Mrs. Finlayson in his arms to kiss her, another audible sigh went up from the crowd. Cressa glanced at her parents and saw they were staring goofily into each other’s eyes, as if remembering their own wedding day, and she was surprised to find her formidable mother quite tearful. Cressa was less surprised by her sisters.
“That was so beautiful,” said Juliet, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“I know,” sniffed Des, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Why do weddings always make one cry?”
“Because they mark the end of freedom, that’s why,” Cressa said darkly.
Portia gave a watery chuckle, but Katherine rolled her eyes. “Oh, Cressa!” She turned to the others. “Come on, let’s go congratulate the bride.”
Her family abandoned her and started pushing through the crowd surrounding the newly married couple, but Cressa slipped away and drifted over to the bike. It was a KTM 640 Motard, a lovely beast, and she ran a hand tenderly over the seat.
“In Texas we shoot horse rustlers.” The deep, slow voice made her spin around. “You got designs on my bike?”
He was even more gorgeous close up, his face all swooping planes and dark hollows. He looked tired—which wasn’t surprising, since he’d just stepped off a trans Pacific flight, then ridden three hours north—but he was still alert.
“I do,” she admitted. “I was wondering if you’d let me take it for a spin.”
His interest sharpened. “You ride bikes?”
“I’ve got a GPX250.”
“Yeah?” He nodded approvingly. “That’s a tidy little bike.”
She snorted. “Little? She’d give your monster a run for its money on the roads around here.”
They were mostly unfinished, and Cressa had first learned how to ride a motorbike on the twisting, backcountry roads.
Adam surveyed her. “Is that a challenge?”
She stuck her fists on hips and eyeballed him. “Damn straight it is,” she said. “My bike’s back at the motel, but if you’re here tomorrow…”
She watched a smile slowly spread across his face. “Do you always pick on bikes twice your size?” he asked.
“Well, you know what they say.” She put on a leer and waggled her brows. “It’s not the size that counts…”
He laughed and stuck out his hand. “I’m Adam Walker. Pleased to meet you.”
She took his hand. It was large and warm. “Hi, Adam. Actually, we’re family now.” His eyebrows rose. “I’m Jake’s cousin Cressida, but everyone calls me Cressa.”
ADAM FOUND IT HARD not to stare into her wide, gray-green eyes. She had the most direct gaze he’d ever seen in a woman, and her thick, dark hair fell to her ass. Her nose, long, strong and slightly hooked, dominated her face, lending her an imperious air. Right now she was blatantly checking him out.
“Cressida? As in Troilus and Cressida?”
“That’s the one.”
He frowned. “Strange play. I can’t recall much of it apart from the dragging of the corpse at the end. I enjoyed that bit. Except, that wasn’t Troilus, was it?”
She did a double take. “It was Hector, but I’m impressed. You’ve actually seen the play? It’s not one of Shakespeare’s better known ones.”
“Way back when. I was only about fourteen then. Wasn’t she kind of a bad apple?”
“That’s me.”
There was something almost wolfish in her grin, and he found himself grinning back. Then he became aware he was still holding on to her hand. She hadn’t been in a hurry to claim it back, either. With some regret, Adam let it go. He was in New Zealand only to give his sister away and keep an eye on their mom while Sass was honeymooning. There was no room for flirting. All his time and energy during the next month had to be for studying.
He leaned against the bike as she asked, “How come you went to see the play at that age? Were you studying it at school?”
A gust of wind lifted her hair like a dark cloud around her. The impatient way she tucked it behind her ear suggested she had no idea how sexy it looked.
“My mom’s an English teacher. She dragged me to every Shakespeare performance within a hundred miles of where we lived.”
“Tell me about it! My dad’s an actor. My little sister’s first words were—” she put on a baby’s lisp “—’Ith thith a dagger I thee before me?’”
He laughed and she joined in. Not that her performance had been that funny, but a weird energy fizzed between them and laughter was a way to express it or release it. Or something. Hell, must be jet lag heightening his senses and jumbling his thoughts this way.
“So where did the bike come from?”
“A rental. I picked it up at the airport once I found out no plane or bus would get me here in time.”
She was only about five foot four, but she gave the impression of being taller. She had a nice body—compact, curvy and toned.
“Hey, Adam!” Hearing his name shouted, he glanced away to find his brother-in-law gesticulating from the beach. Adam waved, then turned back to her. “Sorry, Cressa, gotta go. Time for photos. It was real nice meeting you.”
She raised a hand in farewell. “See you later, cuzzie bro.”
He’d begun to leave, but he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “‘Cuzzie bro’?”
She smiled. “It’s a term we use in New Zealand for a loose family connection. You’re one of us now.”
As he walked away, Adam didn’t know whether that warmed or alarmed him.
CHAPTER TWO
OVER THE NEXT HOUR, Sass and Jake introduced Adam to all their guests and he became quite giddy, repeating the same conversations again and again. Yeah, a great flight. Yeah, a little jet-lagged. No, finding the place had been easy—the bike had a GPS. Yeah, the New Zealand roads were pretty different from the long straight Texas roads, but he’d had a great ride up. The country sure was pretty. He’d be here a month. No, he didn’t see himself getting bored stuck out in Aroha Bay—what a beautiful spot.
The Kiwis were all very friendly, but he couldn’t find Cressa, and tiredness was kicking in fast. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep on the flight, squeezed into economy, with his legs folded up around his ears. The continual glasses of champagne now being pressed into his hand weren’t helping, either, as the reality of what he’d committed himself to began to sink in. Galahad instincts had kept him buoyed on the flight over, but here, standing on the beach at the end of a dead-end road, he was beginning to realize it would be just him and Mom for four weeks. For nine years everyone in the Walker family had led their own, very dissimilar lives. What the hell would living under the same roof again be like?
Even worse, what if Mom wanted to “talk”? Such an awful lot had gone unsaid over the years that, in his opinion, would be best left unsaid. The past was a place he didn’t like to visit, even as a tourist. Unfortunately, one of the big drawbacks with women was they usually insisted on talking things out. Mom used to cope by using denial and drink, but now that she was sober….
The one quality all the Walkers had perfected over the years, however, was the art of making everything seem fine, so Adam put his doubts aside as he laughed and chatted and took photos and gave his mom and sis hugs, and everyone smiled to meet such a happy family.
At one point, Sass pulled him behind a big tree where no one could see them.
“Oh, Adam, I can’t tell you what this means to me.”
He was alarmed to notice tears well. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’m happy to hang out here and make sure Mom is okay. How’s she doing?”
Sass smiled. “She’s been great these past couple of months. Staying with us in New Zealand has helped. All her old routines are broken, and as you can tell—” she motioned toward the waters of the bay, which were turning silver-blue in the late-afternoon sun “—there aren’t any stores around to buy alcohol.”
“Great. Well, I’ll hold fort for the next month. I know you’ll be away for five weeks, but I gotta be back by then. Mom’ll just have to go it alone for a few days.”
Sass hugged him. “She’ll be fine. I’m so sorry I twisted your arm into flying over, but when the cottage came up in Australia—”
“Yeah, I know. Right on the most perfect surf beach where the boys can learn to surf bigger waves. You’ve already explained several times. Although why the hell you’re taking Jake’s bad boys with you—but hey, it’s your honeymoon.”
She laughed. “What can I say? Surfers are crazy and I simply couldn’t disappoint them all.”
“No worries. I’m here now. It’ll be fine.”
He sounded confident, but Sass, damn it, was on to him in a flash. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing. Jeez, Sass, nothing. Well, nothing major. I just sorta wonder what Mom and I will find to talk about, that’s all.”
Sass gazed at him for a second. Her voice was gentle as she said, “It’s different now that she’s sober. She’s the mom I remember from when I was a little girl. You were probably too young to recall.”
“Yeah?” Adam considered this. At least, he tried to. Jet lag and champagne were not conducive to thinking much at all. “Well, good.” Sass was eyeing him thoughtfully, which worried him. “Look, we’ll be just fine. I wasn’t thinking straight for a minute. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” she said in that tone he knew meant she was already sorting out solutions. He’d been on the receiving end of her solutions too often in the past.
“I mean it, Sass. Leave it.”
She gave him that smile he recognized all too well. Talk on. I’m not listening. But before he could make a stronger protest, Sass squeezed his arm. “I’d better get back to my guests.”
As they stepped around the tree and Sass disappeared to socialize, luck shone down on him. There was Cressa, standing in a group of people, her back to him. Even though no one else had yet noticed him, something made Cressa turn slowly around, and their eyes met.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” She had the most amazing smile. “Come over and meet my family.”
She made a space for him beside her and he could smell her perfume. Light, pretty and a bit spicy.
“This is my mum, Deirdre.” She gestured to a tall, dignified woman in a cream suit.
“Nice to meet you, Deirdre.”
She smiled, but her eyes x-rayed him in a single glance. “Adam. I hadn’t realized you two had already met.”
“Yeah, over by my bike.”
“Ah, of course.”
Again that laser stare. Adam fought the urge to check if his fly was undone.
“And this is George, my dad,” Cressa said.
Her dad was tall, with strong features, and Adam figured he must have Maori ancestry. That would explain Cressa’s sensational hair.
“An actor, I believe,” said Adam.
George feigned astonishment. “You’ve heard of me in Houston?” He placed a hand across his heart and bowed his head. “I’m honored.”
“Oh, Dad, stop kidding around. And these are my sisters, Juliet, Katherine, Portia and Desdemona.”
Adam blinked. They were as overwhelming in looks as in names. Juliet, Portia and Desdemona were all fair like their mother. He tried to sort them out. Juliet, sleek bob. Desdemona, long curls. Portia, pixie cut. Katherine and Cressa were dark like their father, but Katherine’s hair was short and curly. Their eyes and skin tones were also different. The only thing they all shared was the same strong nose. Adam found it rather cute, but he bet they hated it.
He must have appeared stunned, because George laughed. “The Curtis women en masse are glorious but overwhelming, I know. Stupidly, we forgot to bring a camera today, and I’d love a shot of all my daughters together, especially looking so beautiful.” He pointed to the camera in Adam’s hand. “Would you take one of us all?”
“Gladly,” Adam said, and raised the camera. “Smile.”
Cries of “Cheese” and “Whiskey” arose from the sisters as they squeezed together, and Cressa laughed, her face full of affection as she regarded her siblings.
“Hang on,” said Adam. “I’ll shoot a few more to make sure.” He fiddled with the zoom, clicked a couple more times. “Perfect.”
“What about you?” Cressa asked Adam. “Do you come from a big family?”
“Nope. Just one sister, one brother, one mother.”
Had he just sounded wistful? Man, he must be jet-lagged.
“Lucky you,” sighed Desdemona. “More time in the bathroom.”
“As if you needed it, Des. You always used to hog it,” said Juliet.
“And what do you do, Adam?” Deirdre asked.
He felt as if he was just about to fail an exam. “This and that. Mostly I’m involved in construction.”
“Oh.”
Amazing how much one small word could convey.
“You’re like Cressa,” Des interjected. “She doesn’t stay in any job for long, either. She’s a flibbertigibbet.”
“I’m not,” said Cressa. “I’m versatile.”
That set her sisters off.
“Very versatile,” Juliet agreed. “Last month you were a youth hostel manager down in Hokitika.”
“And before that you were working in a ski shop in Queenstown,” said Portia.
“Don’t forget the bar in Wellington and the stint as a tourist guide in Rotorua,” Des added.
George chuckled and said to Adam, “To think she very nearly qualified as an accountant, and look at her now.”
She looked pretty good to him. Deirdre, however, didn’t seem nearly so amused, especially when Cressa turned to Adam and commented, “They just don’t understand that people like us don’t enjoy being trapped in the same old, same old, do we? We thrive on change, aye?”
It wasn’t quite like that for Adam, but this was so not the time to put her right, especially since, with her mother watching, she was seeking support. “Sure. So what are you doing now?”
“I’m a stuntwoman. Dad got me a job on a TV pilot, The Valkyries. It’s got motorbike chases and broadsword battles between characters in leather gear. All quite mad but loads of fun.”
“No kidding. I used to do motorcycle stunts, too.” The words just slipped out.
Cressa’s incredible eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah, but years ago,” he said, playing down the experience, “and mainly as a touring show. Very different.”
This caused another clamor as all the sisters began asking questions and Deirdre’s smile became more and more taut. To his relief, he caught sight of his mother chatting to another group of people across the lawn, and he held up a hand with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, but I’ve barely spoken to my mom, and need to say hi to her properly. Nice meeting you all.”
BY THE TIME EVENING FELL and the dancing started, Adam was feeling seriously spaced out. He found he had to concentrate to catch what people were saying. Kiwis spoke so damn fast that keeping up was difficult. His body was craving sleep and he was too befuddled now to calculate what time it was back in Texas. Yesterday morning or some such. How great, therefore, when Cressa appeared at his elbow. It was colder now and she was wearing a bright red jacket. Bold with strong lines, it suited her.
“Will you dance with me?”
“With pleasure.”
He put his camera down on one of the tables and swept her into his arms. The band was playing “Moon River,” probably because of the full moon now laying a silver track across the harbor. Adam was glad the number was a slow one. Drifting like this on the grass, under the trees and stars, a pliant woman pressed against him, it felt good. He hadn’t had a chance to catch up with Cressa again before now. He’d only seen her from afar, chatting animatedly in different groups, seeming to know everyone. At one stage he’d spotted her in deep conversation with Jake and Sass. They’d glanced several times in his direction and he’d wondered what they were talking about. Nothing bad, clearly, for here she was, in his arms.
Adam closed his eyes, letting his tired mind relax and his senses take over. He liked her perfume and the softness of her hair. Dreamily, he wound it around and between his fingers. He loved the contrast of the cold night air and the warmth of her body, and his hand slipped up under the hem of her jacket to stroke the sensuous lines of her back. It would be so sweet to melt into the shadows with her and make out. Slow and easy. Almost trancelike, he danced her to the edge of the crowd, toward the sheltering darkness of trees. He’d been so serious for so long, and Cressa reminded him of what he used to be like.
Tonight he was in a foreign land, among strangers. Tomorrow she’d be gone and he would refocus, get back to his studies. Hell, there was absolutely nothing else to do in Aroha Bay. No distractions, just him and Mom. He’d probably ace the exam, given the empty weeks stretching ahead.
The thought made him smile as he leaned down to rub his cheek, then his lips, on the top of her head. That felt good, too. She raised her face to his, but just as he was about to let his mouth sink onto her beautiful lips, he saw Deirdre only a few feet away, observing the dancers. The way Cressa’s mother wasn’t looking at them as she sipped her wine let him know she knew exactly what was going on. He swung around with the music so that his back was to her, but already she had knocked some of that delicious, drugged dreaminess out of him.
Cressa smiled up at him. She appeared so full of mischief and wicked promise that he couldn’t help smiling back. One night with her would be amazing.
“I’ve a surprise for you.”
“Yeah?” He could hear the husky, lustful hope in his voice and wondered if she did.
“I hope you won’t mind. Sass said you’d be delighted. Your mum knows about it and she says that it’ll be wonderful.”
Suspicion replaced lust. “Really?” His instincts had spotted danger, but his mind couldn’t seem to keep up. “What?”
“I told Jake and Sass I’m up here on location for the next few weeks, and Sass invited me to stay. Now I’ll be around to show you the country. Won’t that be fun?”
With alarm bells going off in his head, Adam jerked backward, tripped over the root of a tree and stumbled, knocking the glass of red wine out of Deirdre’s hand and all down her cream suit.
CHAOS ENSUED as people immediately crowded around, making helpful comments while trying to wipe down the suit. Cressa saw Adam looking wretched as he apologized over and over. She was relieved when Jake carried him off, ostensibly to give a hand bringing out the cake. Adam’s mum, Alicia, whisked Deirdre off to the sleep-out to find her a change of clothes. Then came speeches, more champagne and the cutting of the cake.
Through it all, Adam never once glanced her way. Cressa couldn’t understand it. When they were dancing, she’d been so sure he was as attracted to her as she was to him. He couldn’t have missed the magnetism between them. Or had she really misread the signals so badly?
Over and over again in her mind she replayed the shock on his face when she’d told him she’d be staying. Saw again the panic in his eyes. What the hell? She had to find Sass, tell her staying here was off. But it wasn’t easy. The bride and groom were constantly surrounded by people.
Cressa wandered among the tables now showing the wreckage of carousing. Canapes had dried up; empty glasses littered surfaces. Used plates and napkins lay strewn across the tables and some had fallen onto the grass. The dregs of champagne sat flat in the bottles. The celebration was over and her sour feelings about weddings had only been reinforced. For a while she must have been carried away by a misdirected, false sense of romanticism. What a fool. She glanced over to Adam, now standing on the far edge of the lawn. He looked gorgeous and unobtainable. What a waste.
How had she read him so wrong?
Then, to crown her sense of dislocation, she watched as Sass mounted the deck of the sleep-out and lifted her bouquet. Laughing and jostling, all the women gathered below. Des, Portia and Katherine were right in front. Typical. Cressa wouldn’t be caught dead in that silly gaggle. Someone started a countdown. “Ten. Nine…”
She spotted Adam’s camera lying on the table where he’d left it when they went to dance. She turned it on and flicked through the photos he’d taken of her family. In the darkness of the night, they glowed in bright colors, surprisingly good. Despite her current mood, Cressa smiled. They would all want copies.
“Six. Five…”
She continued clicking on the photos and froze. This one was of her. He’d zoomed in for a close-up of her face. She’d been glancing sideways, laughing at her sisters. The wind had caught her hair, lifting it behind her.
“Two… One!”
And the bouquet, caught by a gust, sailed over all the guests to smack Cressa squarely in the back of her head.
CHAPTER THREE
THE NEXT DAY began chaotically. The Curtis family overslept, after having talked and laughed into the small hours of the morning. The rushed start meant hasty cups of tea and battles for the bathroom. Cressa’s sisters tripped over one another as they crammed clothes into bags before realizing they’d picked up the wrong bras, hair straighteners and phone chargers. This led to frantic repacking, which was followed by an uproarious brunch at the marina.
Cressa leaned back, cradling her coffee, letting the words wash around her. The sun was warm on her back and shone on the dark and tawny heads of her family. Their faces were animated, hands gesturing to emphasize words. With a teacher mother and an actor father, they’d all learned to make their points forcibly. She smiled, her world complete.
One sister, one brother, one mother.
He’d looked wistful, which was at odds with his bad-boy persona. So many contradictions. She was, she had to admit, intrigued. Images of Adam, memories of his arms around her, his lips in her hair, kept coming back to her and filling her with anticipation. Then she’d recall his look of horror.
“How is Brian?” Her mother’s question pulled her back to the present.
Far from playing the jilted groom, Brian had stayed frustratingly faithful and friendly.
“Oh, he’s fine. Working mad hours as always.” She was careful to sound blasé.
“I thought he must be,” said Deirdre. “We haven’t spoken to him for a few weeks now, have we, George?”
“Not since he dropped by with that particularly good bottle of wine.” Her dad smiled, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the wine or the pleasure of seeing Brian. Cressa might not have gone through with the wedding, but Brian had somehow remained a fixture in her family.
“I caught up with him last Friday,” Juliet interjected. “Mike brought him home for dinner. He’s looking great but tired. Did you know he’s presenting at the conference Mike’s gone to this weekend?” She eyed Cressa with a touch of accusation. “He mentioned he hasn’t seen much of you, Cressa.”
What could she say?
“Filming’s busy,” she replied.
But Des was already leaning forward, arms crossed on the table. “Why should she? They’re not an item anymore.”
“He still loves her, despite everything,” Katherine said. “Cressa’s mad not to see how lucky she is.”
“But if she doesn’t love him—” Des countered.
“What’s not to love?” Juliet said. “He’s the most eligible bachelor around.”
“It’s none of our business,” said Mum, as she always did just before going on to deliver her opinion. “However, Cressa, you do need someone steady—if not Brian, then someone like him. Not some wild tearaway, here today, gone tomorrow.”
Cressa glanced at her sharply, but Deirdre’s sunglasses rendered her face impassive.
Looking mischievous, George covered his wife’s hand with his. “Isn’t that what your parents said when an impecunious actor strolled into your life?”
They all laughed, then Portia ended the discussion. “We should all butt out. Cressa can lead her life any way she likes after what she’s been through.”
The uncomfortable silence was broken when their father stood. “I’ll get the bill. Then we should hit the road.”
Cressa felt squeezed to death by the time her whole family had hugged her before climbing into the van and taking off, hands waving out all the windows. She laughed, waving back with both arms till the vehicle rounded the corner, then she picked up her helmet and made her way to her motorbike. As she switched on the engine, she was aware of a tingle of excitement.
How well her mother knew her. A wild tearaway, here today and gone tomorrow, was exactly what she wanted. She just had to convince him it was what he wanted, too. First, however, she had a phone call to make, and then she was going to drop in on her cousin and his wife. Rob and Moana had gotten to know Sass extremely well, and Cressa wanted as much information about the Walkers as possible. As a Valkyrie, she’d learned never to go into battle without being fully armed.
THE SUN WAS SETTING when Adam opened the door in answer to her knock, mop in one hand, bucket in the other. Cressa suppressed a smile. With his dangerous looks, he should be toting a weapon, not a mop. His hair, as black and glossy as the feathers of an eagle, fell thick and straight down each side of his face. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that made his olive skin appear more tanned than ever. Moana had said his father was Cherokee. Cressa liked that. It made him somehow even more exotic and exciting.
“Hey, good to see you,” he said, stepping back to let her enter. “Just finished getting the house in order.”
So that’s how he intended to play it. His manner was impeccably pitched at the “polite acquaintance” level. As if he had never run his hands up and down her back, causing her to shiver with anticipation. Okay, she could play along—for now.
“Hi.” She stepped inside the kitchen. The smell of roast chicken filled the air, and pots were boiling on the stove, though no one seemed to be attending to them. “You didn’t have to clean up for me, you know.”
He smiled, and his teeth were very white. American dentistry, no doubt. His slanted cheekbones gave his smile a wicked edge.
“I didn’t.” He sounded apologetic. “I did it because Mom ordered me to.”
Cressa laughed. The warrior still taming to his mother’s orders. She liked that, too.
“Was there a lot to do? You guys should have taken us up on our offer to help.”
Adam dismissed the idea with a wave of one lean hand. “It was no trouble. Rob and Moana came over in the morning, and with the boys here, too, we got most of it done in no time. Sass was commander in chief. Bossy but efficient. To be honest, when they all left at lunchtime, it was a relief.”
“Sounds like Juliet. Being the eldest, she thinks of herself more as mother than sister. So, where am I sleeping?”
“Mom’s been living in the sleep-out these past couple of months—Sass put her there to give her some privacy. So you’ll be in the house with me. You’ve got a choice, but I expect you’d like Sass and Jake’s room. It’s the biggest and has a double bed. The twins’ room is another option, but it has bunk beds and is a mess.”
He pushed open the door. “Here you are.”
But the sight of the double bed, the almost tangible sense of intimacy, had her backing out.
“You know, I’ll take the boys’ room.”
“Sure,” said Adam in his easy Texan way, but she’d seen his curious glance. She covered up with an explanation.
“That’s where I always used to be. I haven’t slept in the bunks for years. Now I won’t have to fight sisters for the top one.”
“You’ve been here before?” Adam was surprised.
“Yeah, we used to have family holidays here when I was a kid. That was how Jake got to rent it now, and why he and Sass invited me to stay. Jake thought I might like to enjoy the place one last time before the resort goes in.”
She felt sad at the thought of the house being taken away so the eco-resort could be built, but as Jake had said with a wry expression, it was time for other people to share the beauty of Aroha Bay. To have this final opportunity to experience the serenity of the bay was wonderful, and she’d have leaped at the chance, anyway. Adam just happened to be a bonus.
The room at the end of the hall felt like home. She’d forgotten how lovely it was, with windows on two walls and a view over the harbor. Teenage detritus was scattered about, but nothing she couldn’t chuck into the cupboard in a couple of minutes.
“It’s perfect.”
She unzipped her jacket. She saw Adam’s eyes follow the movement as he propped a shoulder against the top bunk. So she hadn’t been wrong. The currents weren’t as edgy as yesterday, but they were definitely running between them, however much he might pretend they weren’t.
“Really? Even the artwork?”
The walls were covered in posters of waves and girls in impossibly tiny bikinis. She stuck her hands into her back pockets as she looked around. “Makes a change from the pop posters we used to paper our rooms with. Except for Des. She had this thing for kitten posters. What did you have?”
“I shared a room with my brother, Cole. He’s into art, so we had all his drawings on one wall and my posters of motorbikes on the other.”
Cole. The one in prison. Moana hadn’t known much about why he was there. She’d said the Walker family had lots they chose not to talk about. Adam had mentioned his brother casually, but Cressa decided now was not the time to go into it. Although Adam seemed the same easygoing Texan of the night before, she could sense his defenses were up; his face gave nothing away.
He straightened. “Where’re your bags? I’ll bring them in.”
“Hey, no need. I can manage on my own.”
“I’m sure you can, but Mom would kill me if she saw you carrying them by yourself. She’s a feminist, but still doesn’t see why a gentleman shouldn’t be a gentleman.”
“Indeed I do not.”
They turned at the soft voice, and Alicia came forward to kiss Cressa on the cheek. “Welcome. Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you. I was out in the garden. Dinner’s nearly ready. We’re so pleased you’re joining us. We’ll eat in the kitchen, since there’s just the three of us. It’s cozy in there. Adam, you get Cressa’s bags while we set the table.”
“See what I mean?” Adam raised his hands in humorous resignation and departed. Cressa smiled.
“It’s very kind of you to have me, Alicia.”
“The pleasure is ours. The house will be so quiet now that Sass and Jake and the boys have gone. I know Adam will appreciate having someone other than his mother around. Wasn’t yesterday wonderful?”
Cressa followed her down the hallway to the kitchen just in time to find one of the pots on the stove boiling over.
“Dear me,” said Alicia, lifting it off the element and setting it to one side. She opened the oven door. Smoke and the smell of burning chicken filled the room. “Oh, my. That’s not good.”
Cressa went to set the table, and was astonished to find that the place mats and cutlery were kept exactly where they used to be. It gave her an eerie feeling of déjà vu. As she and Alicia chatted about the wedding, Cressa checked out the older woman. She was as neat as a pin, in white trousers and a blue jersey, and Cressa found it difficult to believe she had been cleaning all day. Her shoulder length hair fell in a silky curtain the way Adam’s did. Otherwise, they couldn’t look more different. It was as if a dove had given birth to an eaglet. An aura of femininity surrounded Alicia. Her soft voice and graceful movements were a far cry from Deirdre’s quick efficiency.
Hard to imagine Alicia an alcoholic. Hard to imagine her the mother of a convict. She’d had a blond husband and had taken a Cherokee lover. There was a lot more to this woman than her sweet, vague Southern mannerisms might suggest.
Adam came in. “Ah, I’d forgotten the smell of home cooking.”
His mother swatted him with the oven mitt. “I was distracted by Cressa’s arrival.”
Cressa thought about the untended pots and held her tongue, but she and Adam exchanged glances. It was the first time he’d looked her in the eye today, and Cressa immediately found Alicia’s cooking methods endearing.
“Now tell me, why are you up here for the filming? Is it just coincidence?” Alicia asked, draining a pot over the sink and disappearing into a cloud of steam.
“Not really. We were going to be on location in the Coromandel, but it got flooded out in the storms last week. I know the assistant director—he’s a friend of Dad’s—and suggested up here. Our family has been friendly with one of the local farmers for years. He can always do with some cash and his land has everything we need—so here we are.”
Alicia turned and smiled at her. “Well, I’m very pleased. It’s lovely for Adam to have another young person around. Me, too! What’s the show about?”
“It’s a pilot for a fantasy apocalypse series. Nuclear holocaust, the collapse of civilization, ongoing battles. Enter the Valkyries, who complicate things when they fall in love with fighters on different sides.”
“Sounds like you are enjoying it,” said Alicia, collecting the plates from the cupboard.
“Oh, yeah. The Valkyries are great—real kick-butt chicks. The warriors they fall in love with are also seriously cool.” Cressa dug in a drawer for serving tongs. As though he’d read her mind, Adam retrieved them from the dishwasher. “Alas,” she added, putting on a woebegone expression. “Only a few more weeks and then I’ll have to find a real job again.”
Adam and Alicia laughed.
“Are you looking for another stunt gig?” Adam asked as he got a jug of water out of the fridge.
She loved his voice—deep with long, slow vowels. She remembered the huskiness when they’d danced together. Before he’d pulled away.
She shrugged. “No, it’s been fun, but now I’m ready for something different.” She gazed at Adam. “What about you? Why did you stop doing stunts?”
“I broke my back.”
He smiled but glanced away, and the finality in his tone shut down that line of conversation. Was this how the Walkers got around topics they didn’t want to talk about?
“And there’ve been no jobs to tempt you into a career path?”
“Construction suits me for now.”
There it was again. You could almost hear the big fat period at the end of his sentence. His black eyes were unfathomable, his long eyelashes shuttering them. Cressa was impressed and intrigued. He smiled easily, but his expression was strangely impassive.
Alicia cut in. “Sometimes it takes some people longer to know what they want. I must confess I was relieved when Adam gave up his horrible show. Construction is much better, even if it isn’t the ideal job. You’re both still young and have lots of time to find something you love one day.”
She smiled brightly at her son as they all took their seats at the table, but Cressa saw concern in her glance. The same as she’d seen in her own mother’s eyes.
“Yeah, people like us aren’t in a hurry to get to a final destination. We’re enjoying the journey—isn’t that right, Adam?”
Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door, and they all turned to see a man through the glass panels.
“Brian!” Cressa exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”
CHAPTER FOUR
ADAM NOTICED CRESSA’S EYES widen, and she hesitated before rising to hug the man. Then they stepped apart and the guy glanced at him with curiosity before extending his hand to Alicia.
“I’m Brian McKenzie. I hope you don’t mind me intruding.” He smiled at Cressa. “I haven’t seen Cressa for a while and wanted to catch up.”
Ex-boyfriend or wannabe?
“I’m delighted you did,” said his mother. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Alicia.”
“And I’m Adam.” He rose and shook Brian’s hand. “Just passing, were you?”
Aroha Bay was the end of the road, thirty minutes out of Whangarimu. Brian’s rueful smile acknowledged Adam’s dig. “Not exactly. Mike and I flew in this morning and Juliet mentioned Cressa was staying here. It’s been a long time since I was up this way so I thought I’d use Cressa as an excuse to visit Northland again.”
Cressa smiled, but her shoulders were rigid and she didn’t say anything. Ex, Adam decided, and wondered why that was. Brian was good-looking in that Harvard kind of way that comes from generations of wealth interbreeding with beauty. His clothes were expensive and his manners seemed nice. All in all, he appeared the perfect package for a woman.
Adam, this isn’t easy to write, but I’m leaving you for someone else. He’s rich and successful and really nice. You’d like him. I promise he’ll make a wonderful father for Stella. You needn’t worry. Please don’t try to find us. It’s better for everyone if you let us go.
Crystal, as usual, had been wrong. He hated that unknown bastard who, all these years later, still made him feel inferior. Since then, Adam had also found it hard dealing with men who were like him—Brian, for instance.
“You’ll stay for dinner, of course,” said Alicia.
“I couldn’t impose—”
“You aren’t imposing. We’d love to have you.”
“Well, if you are sure…?” Brian looked at Cressa, who shrugged, but this time her smile appeared genuine.
“Of course. I’ll lay another place.”
Wannabe, Adam decided, noting the expression in the poor sap’s eyes. Poor, successful, rich, nice sap. Not that any of this was his business, of course. He’d woken this morning with the brain he’d misplaced somewhere in transit lodged firmly back in place. Cressa’s presence in the house needn’t be the disaster he’d foreseen last night. She’d be out all day working, and he’d be in his room at night, studying. They’d hardly run into each other at all. And mealtimes would be fine. She’d be a buffer between him and his mother, and his mother would be a buffer between him and Cressa. Simple.
He still writhed to think about Deirdre’s suit, but thank heavens he’d noticed her and been prevented from taking things too far with her daughter. Now nothing more than a dance—a close one, granted—lay between him and Cressa. If she mentioned anything, he would apologize, blaming jet lag and champagne. Which was true.
At least, it had all made sense when he’d been lying in bed with only a ceiling to stare at. Now that he had Cressa in front of him, he realized things weren’t going to be quite so easy. Her tight jeans and T-shirt showed off her curves. Her hair was in a long braid down her back and he remembered how it had felt sliding through his fingers. Outside the window, her bike sat parked next to his, and they looked pretty good together.
But if he’d required reminding that Cressa was a complication he didn’t need in his life right now, Brian’s arrival certainly helped to slap his resolve into shape. As Adam struggled to carve the chicken his mom had done her best to kill a second time, Brian produced two bottles of white wine. “I hope you like them. The wine is a new varietal.”
“Brian’s parents own a vineyard,” Cressa explained.
Why was Adam not surprised?
“None for me, thanks,” said Alicia, busy serving up the vegetables. “I don’t drink.”
Adam felt a flare of pride. It would be coming up five months since she’d stopped. Maybe Sass was right and she had changed. Then he watched the way the potatoes bounced as she tipped them into a serving bowl. Her cooking skills, it seemed, were the same as ever.
As Brian poured the wine into the other three glasses, he said with elaborate unconcern, “So, Cressa, I hear you’re seeing a French archaeologist?”
“Danish, and no, we finished a few weeks back. The French guy was a tour leader.”
“Ah. And wasn’t there a skier?”
Adam wondered why Brian would torture himself in this way but supposed it was like having a bad tooth—you just couldn’t help prodding it to see if it still hurt.
“Canadian.” Cressa smiled. “He was cool, into all that freestyle stuff. You’d have liked him, Adam.”
She certainly thought she had him pegged, he decided grimly. People always did. “I’ve never been skiing.” He’d never had the money for it.
“Really?” Both she and Brian spoke together, and exchanged equally surprised looks.
“I’m sure you’d enjoy it,” said Brian. “Cressa and I have had some wonderful times together on the slopes.”
Nice one. He might have polished manners and a vineyard, but Brian wasn’t above getting in the odd jab. It made him a bit more real. But Brian didn’t need to concern himself about Adam. For years after his divorce, Adam had kept all his relationships clean and easy and short. These days he was hanging out for something deeper, more permanent. Right at this moment, with his MCAT exam just weeks away, any sort of involvement was out of the question. Whichever way you looked at it, Cressa was a no-go zone.
They settled down to the meal. The extra setting cramped the table and the dinner was past saving, but the wine was excellent, as far as Adam could tell. His budget kept him well out of range of top wines. Alicia stuck to orange juice, and though he saw her glance at the bottle, she showed nothing of the cravings she might be fighting. She was gentle and soft, but she also had a tough core. Funny, he’d forgotten that.
When Brian tried to top up Adam’s glass, he covered it. “It’s great, but that’s enough for me.”
“So, Adam, I heard you used to do motorbike stunts, too. How did you get into it?” Brian looked interested, and tried to spear a potato with his fork. Now, how had he heard that? Cressa’s family? That would explain his unexpected appearance. The fork pinged off the potato. Surprised, Brian eyed the potato as though seeking a way to break into it. Hammer and chisel, Adam felt tempted to suggest.
“A misspent youth.”
“He bought his first motorcycle when he was thirteen,” said Alicia, covering for his abrupt answer. “I had no idea, but he got himself a job walking dogs and saved all his money under his mattress. I was appalled when he said he’d bought a bike off his friend’s brother.”
Cressa looked at him. “Only thirteen? You were a determined little chap.”
He could see admiration kindling in her gray-green eyes and for a second he felt tempted, cursing his exam.
“Nothing stops Adam,” said Alicia, “once he’s got an idea in his head. He’d visit Calvin, his friend, and ride that bike around and around their farm. Bert, Calvin’s father, assured me Adam had more natural instincts than any other kid he’d ever met. He knew what he was talking about, having four sons of his own.”
She still sounded proud of his riding skills, even though for years they’d caused her nothing but anxiety.
“Yeah, Bert was great. Took me and Cal to all the dirt bike events.” Adam laughed. “Now Cal drives an SUV with baby seats in the back.”
What had he said? Cressa’s face didn’t change at all, and neither did Brian’s, but Alicia must have felt the sudden stillness because she immediately chimed in. “What do you do, Brian?”
“I’m a doctor.”
Adam choked. Then patted his chest and peered reproachfully at the potato on his plate. He so should have guessed! Not content with movie star looks and being rich and nice, he had to go be a damn doctor, as well.
“Really,” said Alicia. “What branch are you in?”
“I’m a GP, but I’m thinking of specializing in pediatrics. There was this speaker at the conference I’ve just been at….” And Brian went on to talk about new discoveries in child cancer. Alicia was interested, but Cressa seemed to tune out of the conversation. Was it medicine or children she didn’t like? Adam noticed her glancing at her phone several times. Was she waiting for the skier or the archaeologist? Not that it was any of his business.
“Where did you two meet?” Alicia asked after a few minutes, turning to include Cressa.
“Brian is Juliet’s husband’s best friend.”
She said it so offhandedly that Brian looked as if she’d just slapped him.
“I’ve known Cressa since she was eighteen,” he added, staring into her eyes as though daring her to repudiate the fact. He wore his heart on his sleeve as if it were a fashion accessory. Adam couldn’t work out whether Brian was the bravest guy he’d met or the stupidest—despite being a doctor.
“Yeah, we went out for a few years, nearly married, but realized the folly of our ways.” Cressa was obviously making a big effort to keep her voice light. Against his will, Adam felt a tiny pull of sympathy for Brian. It appeared he wasn’t over his folly at all.
“So, Adam.” Brian focused on him again. “What line of work are you in these days?”
“Construction.”
“Really?” Brian sounded as though he hadn’t known, but if the family had talked about Adam’s stuntwork, he felt sure Deirdre would have mentioned his current occupation. “Was it hard to get leave to fly out here?”
“I quit the project.”
“Hmm. Anything lined up for when you return?” Brian sipped his wine, his eyes on Adam. What was he actually trying to find out?
“Nothing definite.” Whatever it was, Adam wasn’t going to supply the answer.
Cressa nodded. “Adam’s like me. He takes things as they come.”
She smiled at him across the table and Adam smiled back. His bad-boy smile that always worked. But he was relying on it for all the wrong reasons and he knew it. Part of him just wanted to rattle Brian’s cage. Which wasn’t fair—his beef wasn’t with this guy at all.
“More potatoes, Adam?” Brian smiled blandly as he passed the dish. Mom’s potatoes, a new weapon of war. “I’ve always had a sneaking envy of anyone with a Peter Pan complex—you know, no commitments, no steady job.”
Adam rose to the challenge and put another two potatoes—God help him—on his plate. Equally blandly, he replied, “Well, you only live once.” Steam still rose from the bowl as he set it on a mat between them.
“I’m curious, though,” Brian said. “Have you never wanted anything a little more permanent, now that you are getting older?”
Cressa rolled her eyes. “Oh, Brian, everything for you always comes down to making things safe and secure, doesn’t it?”
He looked at her. “As it turns out, not all my choices prove to be safe.”
Her eyes glittered with annoyance, but at that moment the phone in the living room rang, saving him from a sharp-tongued rebuke.
“That’ll be Sass,” said Alicia, beginning to rise. “She said she’d call when they arrived.”
Adam, though, wasn’t about to be deserted in the battle zone, and he pushed his chair back. “I’ll get it.”
He picked up the receiver, ready to give his sister an earful for catapulting him into this situation. “Hello.”
“Adam? It’s Deirdre.”
He slumped against the wall. “Hey, Deirdre. Look, I am so sorry about the suit. I’ll pay for—”
“Not at all. These things happen.” He’d never heard someone manage to sound both brisk and glacial. “Is Cressa there?”
“Yeah, we’re having dinner with Brian.”
“Brian?” Her voice warmed by ten degrees. “Juliet said he might drive up. What a nice gesture, especially as he must be tired after the conference.”
“He’s a nice guy,” Adam offered. He knew Brian’s hackles were up only because there was a stray in his territory.
“He is.” A slight pause followed, then her voice changed. “He’s part of the family. We all adore him.”
Adam straightened the picture hanging beside him. “Oh.”
“When Cressa comes to her senses, she’ll realize they are perfectly suited. Until then, Brian’s proving to have the patience of a saint.”
She sounded confiding, but Adam could tell when he was being warned off.
“Would you like me to get Cressa?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Adam.”
Class dismissed, he thought, and went back into the dining room. “Your mom’s on the phone.”
Cressa rolled her eyes, then glared at Brian as she pointed her finger. “This is your fault. I bet Juliet told her you’d be here. She really wants to talk to you and is only talking to me first to be polite.”
Brian laughed. “Rubbish. Your mother is devoted to you all. Now, go. Don’t keep her waiting.”
He shooed her off and Cressa, mimicking teenage surliness, pushed back her chair with an exaggerated sigh and went through to the other room with slumped shoulders and dragging feet. They all laughed at the performance.
“Perfected by her and her sisters over the years,” Brian said.
As is your closeness with Cressa and her family, Adam thought. If he hadn’t already decided Cressa was off-limits, if her mother hadn’t made it clear he wasn’t welcome, he might have felt jealous.
“Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I’d love some more of that wine, thanks, Brian.”
Cressa was back in just a few minutes. “I was right. She really wants to speak to you.”
As Brian left the room, her cell phone rang and she pounced on it. “Sorry, Alicia, but I’ve been waiting for this call.”
She exited into the hallway. Adam looked at his mother, who smiled and leaned forward to pat his hand. “I’m so glad you came, Adam. It’s lovely to see you again. I’ve loved being in New Zealand, but I’ve missed you.”
Funny, but he’d missed her and Sass, too, after they’d gone to New Zealand. Following years of seldom seeing one another, the three of them had gotten close while Alicia had been hospitalized with pneumonia and then had entered rehab for her alcoholism. Cole had been supportive, as well, sending letters and sketches from prison to entertain their mom.
“It’s great to see you, too,” he said, and was surprised at how truly he meant it. She’d fought amazing battles to get this far. He felt a flush of chivalric duty and again silently vowed to look after her any way he could over the next four weeks.
Brian and Cressa arrived back in the kitchen at the same time and took their seats. She was brimming with excitement and turned to Adam.
“You’ll never guess.”
He was beginning to learn surprises weren’t good in New Zealand, and couldn’t keep the suspicion out of his voice. “What?”
“I’ve got you some work on the set for the next few days. It’s only a bit part, but it may turn into more. Be ready for an early start tomorrow.”
He dropped his knife on the floor with a clatter and, in the few seconds required to retrieve it, tried to gather his scattered wits.
“I don’t need any work.” It was the best he could think of to say when he straightened.
Cressa leaned forward, eyes dancing. “I know you don’t need it, but Sass said you’d like it. It’ll save you from getting bored. She asked me to see what I could do. So I made a couple of phone calls and the powers that be were really pleased. We’re a warrior short because one of the stuntmen had to return to the States for a couple of weeks for his father’s funeral.” She leaned back, her triumph tangible. “You’ll get to meet lots of people and they’ll just love you! Isn’t that great?”
The same spacey sensation he’d suffered the day before descended on him, the feeling that everything was just out of focus, not quite real. “But,” he said, “I’m going to be busy.”
Cressa appeared surprised. “Doing what?”
Adam sensed Brian’s eyes on him. After their recent skirmishes, no way in hell did he want to admit in front of this guy that he was studying to get into medical school. He glanced at his mother, who appeared curious, a crease of worry between her eyebrows. This was so not the time or the place to tell her, either. Their relationship was too complicated and too fragile at this stage for offhand disclosure. It would kick up old history. So much best left unsaid.
Trapped, Adam uttered the first thing that came into his head. “I’ve got stuff to do.”
He could have kicked himself. Of all the lame excuses available, he’d managed to pick the lamest. Cressa was watching him and he could see questions backing up behind her lips, could feel the ground opening under his feet, so he said the one thing that would make the tense moment go away. “But hey, if it’s only a few days, then great. Yeah. Count me in.”
The brilliant smile Cressa beamed at him almost made the lie worthwhile, but Adam was too busy wondering how many grooms became widowers within their first month of marriage. Just wait till he got his hands on his well-meaning sister. Damn pain-in-the-Sass.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS MIDNIGHT when Adam decided to call it quits. After all, he thought wryly, tomorrow was an early start. Although he was still pissed with Sass and Cressa, the heat had gone out of his anger as he’d become absorbed in his studies. He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands, tired but satisfied. Despite the upsets of the evening, and the lingering jet lag, he’d still managed to get a few hours’ work under his belt. Some days he felt as though he was tilting at the moon. Other times, like now, he felt his goal was almost within his grasp.
He’d spent six long years juggling work and study to get his degree. If he cracked the MCAT in a month’s time and did get accepted into medical school, the next decade would be even tougher. He was mad to even contemplate signing away his life like this, but the desire to be a surgeon burned deep and wouldn’t let him walk away, no matter how tempted he sometimes was.
Being pinned to the spot by Cressa earlier had left him in a devilish predicament. His gallant arrival in New Zealand to allow his sister to enjoy a long honeymoon should not have backfired on him this way. He had a tingling of uneasy presentiment, but damn it, he had the right to not tell anyone about his crazy dream. If it came off, all well and good, everyone would be delighted and he’d be happy to celebrate with them all. If not, he’d want to lick his wounds alone, especially away from Alicia. A man ought to be free to make a bid for the stars without the weight of his mother’s hopes and anxieties on his shoulders; and he ought to be allowed to fail without the burden of her parental guilt. Ideally, he had to admit, he’d also like to escape having to endure public sympathy and pity. Was that so much to ask? Authors wrote novels in back rooms at midnight; inventors experimented in the hidden shelter of garden sheds. Surely he was entitled to his own privacy.
Why, then, this guilt? Why this sinking feeling because he hoped to preserve his secret for a month? After all, he’d already succeeded for six years. How ironic that he should find himself so close to being outed just when the end was in sight.
And all because of Cressa and Sass and their infernal meddling.
Pushing these thoughts to one side, Adam stretched and became aware that the house was strangely quiet. Where were Brian and Cressa? Had Brian ended up staying the night? After dinner, Adam had left them discussing plans. Thirsty, he now prowled through the house to grab a drink before going to bed. Silence. The door to the master bedroom was shut. He had a fleeting image of Brian and Cressa tucked up in the double bed, which he immediately banished. He grabbed the juice from the fridge, a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a long drink, which he downed at the sink. Craning his neck, he looked out the window. The Porsche had gone.
He put the glass in the dishwasher and closed it quietly so as not to disturb Cressa, then padded to the bathroom. The door to her room stood ajar. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help glancing in. The room was empty. That is, its occupant wasn’t there, but her possessions had commandeered the space. Her helmet perched on the desk; her red jacket lay slung over the back of the chair. Her big black boots had been kicked off to one corner. Her bag occupied the lower bunk, its contents strewn across the duvet. An iPod and her cell phone out on the pillow of the top bunk.
Something caught his eye through the window and he moved into the unlit room to look closer. Moonlight illuminated the garden, casting shadows under the trees and turning the harbor to beaten silver. A shadowed silhouette stood by the water’s edge. She raised her arms to twist her heavy hair into a knot on top of her head, then waded into the silver water. It was too dark to tell if she wore a wetsuit or not. She got in up to her knees and hesitated. He wasn’t surprised. He’d dipped his hand in the water earlier today and it had been freezing. She waded deeper. When the water reached her hips, she slid down, and all he could see was a tiny black head with silver ripples widening about her. She was either brave or crazy.
At the same time she looked very alone in the beautiful scene. The vision stirred something in him. Then she turned and began to wade swiftly out. No wetsuit, then.
He shot out of her room, racing to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get out of her way. Her toiletries bag was already there, toothbrush set in the mug next to his. Her shampoo alongside his. And her towel, thrown over the rail, partially covered his.
He was in bed when he heard soft footsteps go past his room. The shower went on. The water would feel good on icy skin. Smoothing away goose bumps.
Relaxing muscles tensed with cold. Releasing clenched teeth into a sigh of pleasure.
He dropped an arm over his eyes, trying to banish the all-too-vivid images, and groaned. His worries about spending a month alone with his mother seemed laughable compared with the predicament he now faced. Thank you, Sass! He should have kept his big mouth shut. He thought back to the clear-headed resolutions he’d made that morning. Clear-headed but, he now realized, hopelessly naive.
Okay. He could cope with the four weeks in New Zealand. He could cope with having a job for a few days. But Cressa was a whole different problem. He’d seen how she was already taking over the house. There was no way he could allow her to hijack his thoughts, his desires and his precious, fast-disappearing time in the same insidious but thorough manner. He could not—would not—allow his body to betray his mind at this stage.
Distance. It was all about keeping the hell away from her. She’d soon get the message.
CHAPTER SIX
“AND ACTION!”
Cressa hurtled down the hillside, through the forest, at a teeth-rattling speed. Trees, tightly packed on either side, swept past in a blur. Cracks of machine gun fire stuttered overhead and a bomb exploded as she shot by, showering her in earth and leaf mold. Her concentration remained zeroed in on the thin path zigzagging downward in front of her. Tree roots, rocks and rotting logs were the real hazards in this sequence.
She hit her skid mark as Jasper leaped out in front of her, brandishing a hand grenade. Gunning her bike, she whirled and plunged down the new track they’d made, barely discernible in the thick undergrowth of ferns and creepers. Her bike was nearly on its nose as she came to the most dangerous part of the stunt. She had to hit the target launch perfectly to sail out over a small bluff and clear the stream. A couple of inches either way would skew her flight and she’d crash into the water or the unforgiving ground.
She saw the mark Adam had left and hit it square on. The bike lifted and for a second she hovered. Sunlight. Stream. Forest. Weightless and floating. Then every bone jarred as she landed with textbook precision. Or rather, Adam’s precision. He’d mapped out this run to perfection.
She killed the engine and took off her helmet, adrenaline fizzing in her blood. She heard scattered applause from some of the onlookers, and Adam stepped out of the shadow of the trees.
“That wasn’t the speed we agreed on, Cressa.”
Did he have a speedometer in his head? She rolled her eyes. “I landed the stunt. Aren’t you pleased?”
He strode over to her bike and grabbed the handlebars, straddling the front wheel so he could eyeball her. “I’ll be pleased when you learn to take direction.”
“I knew I could do it faster, and I proved that, didn’t I?”
Adam pulled the bike nearer so his face was inches from hers. His voice low and angry. “This isn’t about proving things, to yourself or anyone else. It’s not a game, Cressa. I know for you this is a one-off job, so not that serious, but if you’re wanting to test your personal limits, crap like that, do it on your own time. The rest of the people here are professionals.”
That stung. “I’m a professional!”
“No,” he said, “you’re not. You’re just playing at being one. This time you were only risking your own sorry ass, but if you push the limits when other people are involved, you could endanger them. Got that?”
Of course she wouldn’t endanger anyone. But she didn’t have the chance to defend herself. He’d already backed off the bike and walked away. She hated that. Hated people who had the last word. Except yelling after him would seem, well, unprofessional. In the end, he had the final word, because after just a couple of days on the set, he outranked her. She couldn’t believe how fast it had happened. The first day he was an extra obeying orders; the second day he was chatting to stunt coordinators; the third day he was managing some of the bike sequences. It wasn’t even as though he’d pushed himself forward, but when he talked, they listened.
Initially, Cressa had been pleased, taking an almost proprietary pride in him fitting in so easily. Then she’d had to start accepting direction from him and that had turned out not to be much fun at all. She was used to people listening to her, not the other way round. Plus he had no sense of humor. Her entire life she’d been a clown, but now if she kidded around at work, she got the evil eye. He reminded her of her mother!
Sam, one of the other Valkyrie stuntwomen, strolled over. “Well?”
Cressa did a thumbs-down. “He’s pissed because I went a teensy bit faster than he told me to.”
“Ah, I thought you’d stepped it up.”
“What’s the big deal? I could do it far more quickly. I told him at the time, but as always, he just ignored me.”
Sam punched Cressa on the arm. “Stop whining. You should know by now—if it can be done slower, he’ll do it slower.”
“And if I can do it faster, I want to do it faster.”
“We’re lucky he’s so careful. If we fall in these—” Sam indicated the skimpy Roman-army-style tunics they wore “—we’ll be skinned alive. Come on, let’s get a coffee.”
They dropped the bike off with the other two parked in the shade and made their way up the hill to where the forest finished abruptly. A makeshift camp of trailers, awnings and a few portable toilets had been set up in the field.
Bridget, the third Valkyrie stuntwoman, was doing Sudoku at one of the plastic tables by the food trailer. Sam and Cressa got their coffees and joined her.
“Jeez, these costumes are uncomfortable,” Sam said as she sat down, trying to arrange the blades of the very short, rubberized armored skirt under her incredibly long, slender thighs.
“Tell me about it,” said Bridget, squeezing each side of her ribs to ease her breasts, which were sheathed in the tight faux leather corset. “It’s particularly hard on us well-endowed girls.”
Cressa laughed. “No sympathy here for your endowments, Bid. They’re the talking point of the whole crew.”
It was true. Every male eye was drawn to her assets, which brimmed over the tightly laced top.
“Yeah,” Bridget replied, “but they still aren’t getting me where I want to be.”
Cressa followed her gaze to see Jeremy, the sound engineer, was now fiddling with the boom mike. She’d been pining to catch the shy engineer’s attention for weeks now. Behind Jeremy, Cressa spotted Adam squatting beside the bikes, checking tires and suspension. Secretly, she was impressed by his single-minded professionalism, which ran like steel beneath his seeming affability. Alpha males were usually center-stage guys. Adam simply slipped in and took control.
“Ask Jeremy out for a drink,” Cressa suggested.
Bid sighed. “I tried, but he blushed and stammered out some awful excuse.”
“It’s because he thinks you’re out of his league,” said Sam. “You’re going to have to show him you are interested in his mind. All he sees is you wrestling buff warriors day in, day out. Of course he feels intimidated.” She turned to Cressa and grinned. “I don’t imagine Adam feels intimidated. You have a whole different set of problems there. How’s Operation Texas going at home?”
Sam was older than them and had a predatory approach to relationships. She enjoyed the stalking, the catch. Then she’d walk away in search of a new victim. Cressa found this worldly approach to relationships refreshing, and she was amused by Sam’s good-natured, cynical take on life.
“Better than here, I hope,” said Bid. “Face it. When Adam’s at work, that’s his focus.”
They had quickly picked up on Cressa’s interest in Adam but spoke of it lightly because she hadn’t told them about the amazing connection she’d felt when she and Adam first met. It would have sounded stupid, especially as Adam hadn’t indicated since, in any way, that he’d felt it, too. In fact, if not for the photo of herself in his camera, she might have thought she’d imagined the whole thing. Her ongoing failure to secure Adam’s attention, however, amused Sam, who had turned it into a game. Cressa played along. After all, she prided herself in being able to enjoy relationships without getting too involved or experiencing any of the angst.
Cressa made a face. “He’s more terminator than man. When the phone rang yesterday, I ran to answer it wrapped in nothing but a towel. He walked past while I was talking and didn’t even try to cop a look.”
“You must be doing it wrong,” said Sam. “Hey, he’s coming over now. Watch and learn from the professionals, little girl.” She nodded to Bid. “And action!”
Adam sauntered up to their table. “When you’ve finished, Hank wants to do the fight scene and then we’ll go over the escape run. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Sam, smiling up at him. “Why don’t you join us for a few minutes.” In a way that displayed the full, glorious length of her leg, she pushed the empty chair toward him with her foot.
“Yes, do.” Bid leaned on her forearms, maximizing the effect of her tight corset.
“You could do with a break,” said Cressa, joining in and arching back to lift her heavy hair, as though the weight of it was too much to bear. “You haven’t stopped since the moment you arrived.”
Adam looked from Sam to Bid to Cressa, then smiled as he shook his head and slipped into a broad cowboy drawl. “Why, thank y’all for your invitation, but ya think I can’t spot trouble at fifty paces? Try Jeremy over there.” He grinned at Bid. “He’d just love to sit with you gals. I’ll see you in one hour.”
With a flip of his hand, he walked away.
Bid rounded on her. “Cressa! I don’t want you blabbing to everyone that I fancy Jeremy.”
With a small frown, Cressa watched Adam’s retreating back. “I didn’t. Honest.”
How had Adam picked that one up? She’d thought he was completely immersed in his work here.
“In—ter—es—ting. He didn’t miss a beat, did he? You’ve got yourself a real challenge there.” She stretched out so both feet now rested on the empty chair, her eyes following Adam. “Maybe I should join in on Operation Texas. What do you think, Cressa? May the best woman win?”
Cressa felt a flush of annoyance with Sam. And with Operation Texas. Which was stupid, because they were only kidding around. She wound her hair up and tied it into a heavy knot at her nape. “Boring. Time for another subject.”
Sam laughed. “Okay, I’ll take Hank instead.”
Hank was the fight coordinator, with the body of a gladiator.
“He’s a person, not a conquest,” Cressa snapped. She wasn’t sure if she was talking about Adam or Hank.
Bid threw her a sidelong glance. “Touchy all of a sudden, aren’t you?”
“No. But I’d like to talk about something other than blokes for a change.”
“Agreed,” said Sam. “I nominate literature. So, what did you think of the ending to War and Peace? Did you find it ended on a whimper when you expected a bang?”
“The characterization was what I enjoyed,” said Bid. “Robust, yet poignant.”
“You can’t say that,” Sam objected. “That’s the same line you used to describe the wine last night. Which was execrable, in any case.”
Cressa laughed. “The wine or the line?”
“Both,” said Sam.
“Oi!” Bid protested in mock outrage. “That’s my most useful stock phrase. You’d be amazed at the number of different conversations I can work it into.”
Cressa drained her cup and looked at her friends affectionately, her irritation forgotten. “C’mon, guys. Let’s go wrestle.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADAM WAS SURPRISED Cressa was home that evening for dinner. Maybe it was because it had started raining when they got home. She’d been out every other night, visiting her cousin, going out with the other Valkyries, catching a movie. She couldn’t seem to just sit. Couldn’t be with her own company. He wondered what that was about.
His mom was happy. “How wonderful to have you join us. I’ve made chili. There’s plenty for everyone.”
“Fabulous, thanks,” said Cressa, pulling up her chair. “I’m starving.”
Tonight her hair was in a long ponytail that fell over her right shoulder. His resolve to hold her at a distance was enjoying only limited success. Yes, he had kept things professional, but he was having to work hard not to look at her too much. In one fight scene he’d gotten a helluva whack on the head from a wooden shield when he’d been distracted by her broadsword and flying leather skirts, her braid swinging in an arc as she ducked and twirled in a beautifully choreographed sequence.
Cressa heaped her plate with rice and his mother’s special chili. Adam watched with interest as she took her first mouthful. She coughed, spluttered and grabbed a glass of water. “Wow. That’s hot.”
Alicia sounded surprised. “Oh, dear, have I put too much spice in?”
She’d been putting in way too much spice for as far back as Adam could remember. Her chili used to lay his friends out flat, and he and Cole had had a running competition to see who could eat most before diving for the water jug.
“No, it’s lovely.” said Cressa, her voice hoarse as she blinked away the tears. “Great.”
Adam smiled. Payback for her insubordination.
“So how was today?” Alicia asked. It was the same question she used to ask every day after school.
“Good.”
And it was the same reply he’d always given. It had served its purpose then and it had served its purpose these past few days when only he and his mom had been around. It set a nice, easy, conversational tone that carried them through each meal.
“Good?” Cressa dropped her fork and stared at him. “First he shouted at me for going too fast—”
“I didn’t shout.”
“Then he got mad at one of the mechanics because a brake line on one of the bikes snapped.”
“The fool should have picked it up. He was lucky there wasn’t a serious accident.”
“And then,” said Cressa, still ignoring him, “he stepped onto a rotten log, dislodged a wasp nest and got stung three times.” She grinned smugly. “I think it was fate getting him back for being so high-handed.”
“High-handed? I was doing my job, Cressa. The one you got me.”
“Wrong!” She pointed her fork at him. “I got you a nice little number as an insignificant stuntman like the rest of us. It was you who moved in and just took over.”
With a so-there toss of her head, she scooped up another mouthful of chili—and choked. Served her right.
“I haven’t taken over, I’ve simply got some expertise that they are using.” He’d meant to sound calm and rational. He was annoyed to hear the so-there in his voice, too.
His mother smiled. “Dear me. Things certainly sound far more eventful today than on previous days.”
He cast her a sidelong glance but there was nothing to read in her face except demure interest.
Cressa shook her head as she loaded her fork with a five-to-one ratio of rice to chili. “I simply don’t understand how such a nice woman like you, Alicia, could have produced such an infuriating son. I bet his dad was overbearing in that same quiet way.”
A stillness fell over the table. Cressa glanced up. “Oh, shit. Have I put my foot in it? Sorry, Alicia.”
Alicia’s laugh was a shade too tinkling. “Of course not.”
Adam wanted to wring Cressa’s neck. He and his mom had managed just fine. The two of them had enjoyed perfectly reasonable, friendly chats every night. Cressa was home for one night and already she was upsetting things. Glaring, he said, “We don’t talk about him.”
Cressa, typically, paid him no attention. She was looking at Alicia. “How come?”
His mother stirred a portion of rice and chili together, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “It upsets Adam.”
He was taken aback. “No, it doesn’t. We don’t talk about him because it upsets you.”
She was surprised. “Why should it upset me?”
“Because…” He floundered. “Well, because you never mention him.”
“Because you got so angry the one time I tried to tell you about him. Don’t you remember?”
Adam stared at her. “What?”
Alicia put her fork down and faced him. “When you were about six, you asked why you looked different from the rest of us. I tried to explain, but when I got to the part where Dad—Cole and Sass’s father—wasn’t yours, you covered your ears with your hands and ran screaming from the room.”
He had vague memories of that now. Strange, how he’d never remembered before.
She picked up her fork again. “Of course, I completely understood. Terrence, to do him credit, had always treated you exactly the same as the other two. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”
Adam thought of their father, tall, blond, good-looking, humorous. They’d all adored him—when he was around, which wasn’t that often, even before he took off completely. Adam had wondered a lot over the years how his dad had really felt about having this dark kid foisted upon him, proof to the world that he’d been cuckolded.
“Was I the reason Dad left?” he asked abruptly.
Alicia appeared horrified. “No! Absolutely not. He’d have gone whether you were there or not, Adam. You have to believe that.” She paused and added more matter-of-factly, “Some men aren’t meant to marry, Adam. Terrence was one of them. He loved being on the rodeo circuit. He was never a ‘nine-to-five, come home to the kids’ sort of man. Not deep down. We only married because I was pregnant with Sass. Looking back, I see that’s the worst reason to get married.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Cressa was so emphatic that both Adam and Alicia stared at her. “But, Alicia, you still haven’t said what Adam’s real father was like. Was he all macho and bossy?”
His mother’s eyes softened in memory. “No, Adam’s father was a modern-day troubadour. A man with a heart full of poems and not a cent in his pockets.”
“Wow, he sounds so romantic, whereas Adam—” she looked at him pointedly “—so isn’t. How did you guys meet?”
It didn’t matter how they met, and it wasn’t any of Cressa’s damn business. He pushed his plate away and was suddenly aware of how airless the kitchen felt, the heat of the oven fogging up the windows. His mother smiled. “He came to our school to talk about poetry to some of our writing classes.”
Poetry! Oh, jeez. Why the hell couldn’t he have had a real job, been a truck driver or something? His mom really knew how to pick them.
“And were there sparks the first time you laid eyes on him?” Though she’d asked Alicia the question, Cressa glanced sideways at Adam.
“Why, yes, there were. Funny you should ask. There was this strange electricity between us. Hard to explain.”
“I think I know what you mean,” said Cressa. “What was his name?”
Adam’s stomach hollowed at the question.
“Adahy Wilson. A lot of the time he was just called Andy, but his real name was Adahy. It means ‘lives in the woods.’”
“Adahy.” He tested the name. “Adahy Wilson.”
He must have spoken, because Cressa stared at him. “Don’t tell me you never even knew his name.”
Alicia cut in. “That’s my fault. He never asked, so I never told him. I should have.”
Adam was hating this whole conversation, but what the hell, now that Cressa had started poking around, he had a few questions of his own. One in particular that he’d never dared ask. “Did he know about me?”
“No.”
At that single word, emotion jagged so sharply that Adam couldn’t identify it. Relief? Anger? Disbelief?
Alicia continued. “You see, we only saw each other for a month—Terrence was away. Adahy moved on and I never tried to contact him.”
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Zana Bell
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Стоимость: 152.25 ₽
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: A Risk Worth Taking, электронная книга автора Zana Bell на английском языке, в жанре современные любовные романы