Chapter 12 That’s a Lie
That’s a Lie
Nyree’s mind and gaze kept slipping to Tāwera as he read his book. Sex with him had been different. Better and more fulfilling. It hadn’t been merely the assuaging of her moonlust, but something powerful and enduring.
Stop it, Nyree. You’re simply grateful for Tāwera’s help. It’s a crush, and you know better.
It was true. Ari had put her off anything resembling a relationship. It was too soon to think of another man. A crush. Just a stupid crush. Soon, Tāwera would go his own way. He’d make friends and start a job. They hadn’t spoken of what he wanted to do once he reached home.
Nyree frowned. Her mother hadn’t emailed recently, and Manu hadn’t mentioned her mother or sister in the part of the email Tāwera had read to her. Later tonight, she’d make a point of emailing them again.
She made macaroni and cheese, added fresh vegetables for interest, and popped it into the oven before grabbing her tablet. She discovered a second email from Manu but read the first one’s contents before opening the second.
“Ah,” she muttered. Her mother and sister had gone to Taupo to spend two weeks with Nyree’s auntie.
Her auntie didn’t have internet, a fact her cousins had bemoaned whenever Nyree saw them.
She would’ve thought her sister would’ve sent her an email, though.
She continued reading the results of Manu’s research.
He’d offered to have Tāwera stay with him and his wife until he got on his feet.
Manu mentioned he and Jessalyn were eager to learn the older traditions that the tribes had lost.
Nyree closed that email and opened the second. Her eyes widened since Manu had addressed the email to Tāwera. Briefly, she struggled with the ethics of reading his email until she noticed Manu had mentioned her.
Mates?
A gasp escaped, and she slapped her hand over her mouth.
She checked to assure herself Tāwera’s book still claimed his focus.
Even though she’d wondered, given their ability to communicate in taniwha form, she’d told herself she was imagining the possibility.
A head in the sand reaction, for sure. Frowning, she continued reading.
Manu thought she and Tāwera were mates since Tāwera’s reaction was similar to Manu’s response when he’d encountered Jessalyn.
He told Tāwera to speak with her because any attempt to resist their connection would worsen the moonlust. Her cousin added nature was seldom wrong when the bonds formed.
He and Nyree were compatible and would have a good life together.
Mates?
Flabbergasted, she stared at the words. Manu was wrong.
She wasn’t interested in jumping into a serious relationship with anyone, not after her Ari debacle.
Tāwera hadn’t mentioned mates to her. Emma and Cassie had spoken to her about becoming mates with Jack and Hone. They’d all fought in their way, not wanting forever with one person. They’d had various reasons, but bottom line, not one of them had escaped fate.
She pressed her lips together to halt a scream. As much as she liked Tāwera and enjoyed his company, she didn’t want forever. She wanted to travel, to do the things she’d always dreamed of, but Ari had refused to let her indulge her desires.
Anger pumped through her then. Fury at Ari for letting him box her into an emotional trap.
For the nth time since leaving New Zealand, she chastised herself for buckling to Ari.
Once she’d acted the obedient woman and he’d discovered her soft spots—her family—she’d been on unsteady ground because she’d wanted to protect her mother and sister.
And now, apparently, she had a mate.
Manu could be wrong.
Nyree thought about when they’d made love this afternoon—no, it had been plain sex. The physical contact had soothed every part of her angst and left her with increased strength. Happy.
She’d hoped to repeat the experience, but she’d thought of suggesting friends with benefits.
A relationship to last only as long as her summer job.
They might have remained friends, but now—it was impossible.
She’d made a pact with herself never to rely on another man again.
Gah! It was apparent she had faulty genes.
As much as she loved her mother and had promised herself never to follow in her parent’s footsteps by trusting men who weren’t worth the trouble, she’d found herself in that vulnerable place.
Never again.
Nyree stared at the email again and lifted her hand. Her finger hovered over the delete button. Then her mouth tightened to a determined line, and she deleted the email.