Chapter 9 Mountain Picnic
Mountain Picnic
Tāwera dragged in air, fighting to remain upright while focusing on the womanly fragrance riding the air.
His muscles cried out, screaming abuse with the fractured signals shooting upward to his shoulders, his neck to the back of his head.
It was Nyree’s clean, green scent that shredded his concentration and helped to push away the pain.
He smiled even though it hurt. Everything throbbed, but he didn’t care.
The soreness meant he was alive and no longer in hibernation or whatever the curse had done to him.
He stared at Nyree, taking in her slender beauty. Muscles rippled under her skin, yet she was feminine.
“It would please me to kiss you,” he whispered. “I want that very much, but first, we should eat.”
He picked up the bag Ernesto had given him and pulled out the box. “Let’s sit over there on the flat rock. It’s out of the wind and should be pleasant in the sun. When I get cold, the aching in my bones is worse.”
“That’s interesting. You can have a hot shower when we get back.” She pulled on a pair of leggings and a shirt before picking her way across the uneven ground strewn with rocks. A pebble skittered away when she kicked it with her toe.
“I prefer you without clothes,” Tāwera said, setting the box on the rock. “And I’m looking forward to the kiss you offered me.”
Nyree’s mouth opened and closed, reminding him of an eel fished from the river.
He grinned as he retrieved his cloak and other garments, his pain receding and allowing him to function better.
“Sit here,” he said, patting the rock. After donning his piupiu since his naked state bothered Nyree, he opened the food box, and the powerful aroma of aged cheddar reached him.
Ernesto had done him proud with tasty cheese, biscuits, and fruit.
Tāwera unpacked the items on the small bendy trays Ernesto had included.
They were like plates but appeared constructed of tough paper.
“What are these?” He held up several round things, his piupiu swishing around his legs as he moved.
Nyree leaned closer and sniffed. “Mmm. Chocolate truffles. They’re delicious and usually eaten with a cup of strong coffee to counteract the sweetness.”
Tāwera peered inside his box of treats. “There is no coffee.” He pulled out a bottle. “Is this water?”
“Yes, and it’s from France by the looks of the label. That will work perfectly with the feast you’ve provided.”
“I’m not sure of the identity of some of these things,” he confessed.
Nyree grinned, and her animated expression warmed him through. His painfully tense muscles released from the cramp, causing him discomfort. Making Nyree happy boosted his mood.
“The items on this plate are different French cheeses. This one is blue cheese. It tastes strong. I’m not sure if you’ll enjoy it or not.
This is a cheddar. A brie. If I had to guess, this one is a type of goat cheese.
This plate contains pieces of French bread and crackers.
The fruit on this plate—you have grapes, sliced apple and pear, and mandarin segments.
A handful of nuts. You even have pickle or relish. Ernesto has given you a feast.”
“He wanted to get rid of me,” Tāwera stated.
“Perhaps,” Nyree said with a giggle.
Tāwera’s stomach let out a grumble. “What should we try first?”
“Try the cheddar. I’m sure you’ll like that. Have you had cheese before?” As she spoke, Nyree pulled a white object from her pack.
“What’s that?” Tāwera had never seen an object such as this.
“It’s my Swiss army knife. I take it everywhere with me. The blades of the knife fold out and slip back when you’re finished using them.”
He watched Nyree slice the cheese with the sharp blade. She passed the cheese and bread to him before slicing the other cheeses. She spread a reddish-brown paste on the bread and placed a slice of cheese on the top before sitting back to study the view and take a bite.
“This is beautiful,” she said. “A feast, splendid company, and a spectacular panorama.”
Tāwera reached for a grape and a piece of the pungent blue cheese. He nibbled a corner.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes, it tastes different from anything I’ve tried, but it is interesting,” he said, eating with more enthusiasm. He rolled his neck and shoulders. “Eating makes the deepest muscle pains recede.”
Nyree reached for nuts and fruit. “I’m glad you’re feeling better and that the symptoms of the curse are passing, but I’m not sure how to explain your presence. I doubt Carolyn and Keith will understand the abrupt appearance of a tattooed man.”
Tāwera lounged back on the sand, his gaze on two white-and-black birds flying past their vantage point. Their presence didn’t bother the birds. As he watched, more appeared, flying lazily on the air currents and heading toward the water.
“The people I’ve seen here don’t have tattoos,” Tāwera said. “You don’t have a moko on your chin. Are the old traditions no longer followed?”
Nyree wrinkled her nose. “Tattoos fell out of fashion. I suspect the missionaries had a part to play in this since, from what I’ve read of our history, they disapproved of tattoos.”
“The missionaries I knew had very straight minds.”
Nyree frowned, then her expression cleared. “Oh, you mean they had narrow minds.”
He nodded. “They didn’t like people having fun.”
“There was a time when most people thought those with tattoos were villains and untrustworthy.”
Tāwera jerked upright. “You can trust me.” Indignation filled his taut body.
“Wait. I’m doing a poor job of explaining.
In the past, many people felt this way. In the last ten to twenty years, tattoos have become acceptable.
It’s a way of expressing individuality. Many famous men and women—actors, singers, and sports stars—get tattoos and the young people follow their lead.
At home, many Māori are turning to the old ways.
It’s not so unusual to see men with full facial tattoos like yours and women with standing within their tribe might have chin moko. ”
“I have missed much.”
“It’s true the curse shut you away, but it has also given you an opportunity to embrace the future.”
“Can you show me how to use your machines? Two of the men in white pointed their machines at me. What happens when they do that?”
Nyree gasped. “Oh, no. They took photos?”
“What is a photo?”
“Remember I showed you the images on my computer? Those are photos. I can take them with my phone or with my camera.”
Tāwera nodded, but Nyree’s words still confused him.
She patted his arm as if she read his mind and understood. “I’ll show you once we get back. Try not to let them photograph you again.”
His brows lifted. “I should blow fire at them?”
“No! It’s even more important these days to keep our true identities secret. There are people out there—governments—who would capture us and use us in ways I don’t even want to imagine.” Nyree shuddered.
“They could take down a mighty taniwha?” he scoffed, his disdain clear. Nothing was more powerful than a dragon.
“That might have been true once. The local people feared and revered the taniwha. There was mutual respect. When we return, I’ll introduce you to the internet. I might download a book on world history for you to read. Are your reading skills as good as your verbal?”
“I can read, but I am slow.”
“That’s all right. You need to learn as much as you can before returning to New Zealand. Reading books will help you prepare for the modern world. Now back to Keith and Carolyn. We must hide you because they’d have to report you to their boss. That would raise even more questions.”
“I can find a place to hide, but when the cruise ships come, I can walk in the open.”
“Yes, that should work. You can sneak into my quarters at night. The thing is to look confident as if you belong. That way, you’ll receive fewer questions.”
“I can do this.” Tāwera reached for more cheese. “We do not have another alternative. I am stuck here at present.” He crunched down on a piece of French bread and cheese and immediately spat it out. “Ugh!”
“I’m not a fan of the goat cheese either. We won’t eat that one.”
Once they’d demolished their feast, they relaxed in the sun until Nyree checked her watch and said it was time to return, otherwise Keith and Carolyn would worry. She stood and slapped the dust from her backside.
Tāwera stood too. “First, we will have our kiss because your soft lips entice me.”
“Kissing involves more than the pressing of lips. There is a technique.” Nyree drew in a sharp breath, and a hint of pink crept up her neck. “Excellent. I sound like a prissy maiden aunt.”
“There is more?” Tāwera regarded her with a curious expression, his gaze following the path of the delightful pink as it traveled upward to her cheeks. “Show me.”
Before Nyree could comment—the flustered tangle of her tongue prevented an immediate reply—he stepped closer and grasped her shoulders with gentle fingers.
He lowered his lips to hers, the movement a whisper of pleasure.
Oh, boy. Tāwera knew precisely what a kiss was and how to give a great one.
She gripped his shoulders and held tight as he teased her mouth.
At first, the kiss was slow with an inherent tenderness, but gradually Tāwera deepened the contact, using his tongue and teeth to perfect effect.
He licked and nibbled, and pressure built inside Nyree’s chest. The emotion emerged in a heartfelt groan. Tāwera had been holding back on her.
She’d tried not to think about him and sex, but he’d torn down the flimsy barrier she’d erected with one exceptional kiss.
It made her curious about what he’d be like as a lover.
He tugged her closer, fitting their bodies together.
Every feminine part of her rejoiced at the contact.
He was hard everywhere. His chest. His shoulders. His cock.