Chapter Thirty-One
Elora
Etana takes us to the Riverside Lodge, drops us by the reception block, and carries in our cases. Linc goes up to the desk and informs them that we have a lodge booked for the night. I didn’t know he’d done that. But then I obviously didn’t know he’d done a lot of things.
I stand by the window, looking out at the view of the river, feeling the ring in its box in my pocket. My head is still spinning with the knowledge that he contacted Maureen to see if she had the ring. He insinuated he did that before he asked me to join him on the cruise. But he chose not to tell me, because he thought I might not go with him.
I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that he… if not lied to me, then misled me. He wanted to spend time with me. Who wouldn’t feel flattered about that? But I wish he’d just been honest and asked me. Of course I’d have gone with him. I’m crazy about the guy.
But it’s a very Linc thing to do. Not lie, but to act on the fly, and not put much thought into it. When he heard from Maureen, I’m sure he would have come up with the idea not to tell me on the spot. He wouldn’t have angsted over the advantages and disadvantages of such a decision. I don’t believe he’s even considered what he’s done as lying.
He turns now, a key in his hand, Etana takes our cases, and they walk toward me. “Come on,” Linc says, holding out his free hand. “We’re in the end lodge.”
I let him lead me out, and we walk along a pathway, the lodges on our right and the river on our left. Thick rainforest coats the other side of the bank and the side of the mountain behind the lodge, and I find myself thankful that we don’t have any venomous spiders or snakes in New Zealand. It’s a beautiful setting. The sun is low in the sky, which is a gorgeous lilac color, fringed with orange. The stars are going to be magnificent here tonight.
Etana leads us all the way to the last lodge on the path, takes the key from Linc, and unlocks it for us. Someone has already switched on the lights so the cottage glows like a jewel in the gathering dusk. I follow him inside, and we find ourselves in a clean and pleasant wooden cottage with a living room, separate bedroom, floor to ceiling glass windows, and a deck with a table and chairs where you can eat overlooking the view of the river. Etana brings the cases in for us and tries to stop Linc giving him a tip, but Linc talks him into it, and he grins and wishes us a pleasant stay before leaving, closing the door behind him.
We stand in the living room, looking out at the view. It’s so quiet. The sound of the river tumbling over the rocks is just audible, but I can’t hear any traffic or voices.
I glance at Linc and discover him watching me. “Are you mad at me?” he asks.
I think about it. “No, I’m not mad. I’m incredibly touched by what you’ve done. It was very thoughtful of you to make sure that Maureen had it before we came all this way.” I look out at the view for a moment before looking back at him and continuing, “But I am a bit upset that you weren’t honest with me. I wish you’d been more open and told me what you were doing, and then asked me to come with you on the cruise openly. I understand why you didn’t, because you were worried I’d say no. I wouldn’t have. I’d have said yes. But it would have been nice to have had the option.”
He slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans and studies his feet for a moment. Then he looks back at me. “Yeah, I get that. I’m sorry.”
“I know that’s how you work. You don’t plan. You make decisions on the spot. And you meant well, so I forgive you. But I don’t like feeling powerless.”
That makes him frown. “I didn’t think of it like that. Ah, jeez, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’ve talked a lot about control over the past few days—it seems to be a bit of a theme with us. Giving up control in the bedroom is one thing, and I’ve really been enjoying that. But outside the bedroom… I need to make my own decisions. To feel as if I have agency over my life. Does that make sense?”
He nods. “Absolutely.” He pulls me into his arms and wraps them around me. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think.”
I snuggle up against him. “I know. It’s okay.”
“The last thing I want to do is make you feel powerless.”
“I know, honey. Honestly, it’s okay, because you were very sweet, and I’m thrilled that it hasn’t been a wasted journey where the ring is concerned. You didn’t want me to be disappointed—I get that, and I’m very touched.”
He rests his lips on my hair. “I’m crazy about you. You know that, right?”
I bury my face in his T-shirt, not replying. It’s a lovely thing for him to say, and I want to believe him. I think he means it right now—I don’t think he’s lying. But he’s a pirate—a gentleman of fortune—and in a few days, when he’s about to sail off back to his life in the UK, he might feel very different.
He clears his throat. “Are you hungry? We could go to the restaurant, or order something in?”
I move back. I am hungry. “Let’s order something in.”
“Okay, come on, where’s the menu?”
We decide on sharing a club sandwich and some fries, and Linc phones through the order, along with a bottle of Champagne.
“Champagne!” I say when he hangs up.
“You’ve got to try it at least once in your life,” he advises.
I giggle and let him pull me into his arms again. “Happy to agree, Mr. Bossy.”
“I am bossy.” He kisses me. “But I’ll try to walk the line, I promise.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
He picks up his phone. “Hold on.” He presses a few buttons and types something in, and John Mayer starts singing Edge of Desire . I sigh, and he pulls me back into his arms, takes my hand, and we begin to dance.
Ahhh… it’s such a sexy, seductive song. Linc hums it while we move, and a shiver passes right the way through me, from the roots of my hair to my toes. They’re seducing me, John and Linc, and I can feel myself melting inside like a marshmallow held over a campfire. Oh God, I’ve got to be so careful, because at this rate I’m going to be completely heartbroken when he leaves. But how am I supposed to keep a shield up when he makes me feel like this?
He’s obviously put on a playlist, because more love songs follow, and we dance like that for about twenty minutes, sometimes singing to the music, sometimes just cuddling up, while outside the sun sinks slowly beneath the horizon, the sky begins to turn dark, and the stars pop out on the black velvet.
Eventually we see someone walking along the path with a trolley, and Linc stops the music while I go over to the door and open it. It’s Etana, still working, and he brings in our tray of food, and then an ice bucket with the Champagne, bids us to enjoy it, and disappears again.
Linc takes the tray over to the kitchen and begins to retrieve plates and glasses from the cupboards. I carefully lock the door. Then I stand there for a moment, looking at it.
I reach out a hand and rest it on the lock. I can feel the tension beginning in my shoulders and my stomach, my breathing turning shallow, as the urge rises within me to check it again—to turn the switch to make sure it’s truly locked, just in case I didn’t get it right the first time. Normally I’d do that five or six times at least. Sometimes as many as ten or eleven on a very bad day, repeatedly walking away, then returning to start all over again.
Behind me, silence falls for a moment, and I know Linc has spotted what I’m doing, and he’s watching me, even though plates clatter again, and he continues serving up the food. But I bring my attention back to the door, ignoring him for a moment.
I’m safe. And I’m so much more in control now. Last time I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t make it happen. It wasn’t my fault. It was a very particular set of circumstances, like a rare conjunction of planets. I’m older now. More aware. I know self-defense. I know how to hurt a man in the places he’s vulnerable. I know to shout ‘fire’ and not ‘help’. I’m more confident, and men don’t tend to pick on confident women. I’m not a girl and I’m not a virgin. I know about sex, and I’m not frightened of it anymore. Linc has helped me there. Despite his decision not to tell me about Maureen, he has given me the agency I need over my own life, while also letting me explore the differences between us in bed, so I understand the concept of control much better.
What happened to me before is not going to happen again, certainly not the same way, and even if it did, I’m so much more capable now.
It’s time to start dealing with my fear, and put it back in its box, rather than letting it free and reliving that moment every time. It won’t happen overnight—I’m not stupid. It’ll be two steps forward and one step back, probably. But I do need to move forward. I want to. I want to be better. I want to, finally, put it behind me.
I lower my hand from the lock, take a deep breath, and turn and walk away.
Linc watches me walk up to the breakfast bar that separates the living room from the kitchen, and I sit on one of the barstools.
“Hello,” he says, pushing over one of the plates that contains half the club sandwich and half the fries.
“Hello.” I pick up a fry and eat it.
He leans on the counter, picks up his half of the sandwich, and takes a big bite, chewing it while we watch each other. When he swallows, he wipes his mouth on a serviette, then says, “You okay?”
I nod and gesture at the Champagne. “Are you going to pour us a glass?”
He straightens, takes the bottle out of the bucket, and wipes it on a cloth. Someone—Etana, maybe—has already opened it, so Linc pours it into two slender wine glasses and slides one over to me.
I sip it. “Ooh.”
“You like?”
“It’s not as sweet as I thought it would be, but it’s lovely. Mmm. The bubbles go up my nose.”
Linc watches me have a mouthful, his eyelids lowering a little. Oh… interesting. “You find it sexy that I’m drinking Champagne?”
He leans his hands on the counter. “I find you sexy, Elora-Rose Bell.”
I move a crumb from my bottom lip into my mouth, watching his gaze follow my finger, and my pulse speeds up a little. “I have no idea why.”
He tips his head to the side, his gaze sliding over me lazily as he considers his answer. Everywhere it touches me, it’s like a laser, burning into my skin. “Because you’ve turned into a smart, beautiful, brave, sexy woman. You take my breath away.”
The unexpected compliment makes me speechless. “Oh.”
He leans down, elbows on the counter, and has another bite of his sandwich. “And I totally want to fuck you senseless tonight.” I stare at him, and he laughs at the look on my face. “Sorry, was that too blunt?”
I feel my face warm. “No… yes… I mean… ah jeez…” I have another mouthful of Champagne for Dutch courage. “Are we going to a hundred percent this evening?”
It’s his turn to look surprised. “I don’t know.”
“I’d like to.”
“I’m not quite sure what that constitutes,” he admits.
I have a mouthful of fries. “Neither do I. Maybe just… no holding back?” I swallow, then lean forward to look him in the eyes. “I want all of you, Linc. That’s all. One hundred percent. Any position, anything you want to do… I’d like to do it. I just need you to show me how.”
We study each other for a moment. Then he blows out an exasperated breath and has another mouthful of sandwich.
“What?” I ask, my lips curving up.
“I’ve got an erection,” he says with a grunt. He slides a hand beneath the countertop and adjusts himself through his jeans, gives me a wry look, then continues eating.
I giggle. “Want to do something with it?”
He just eats his sandwich, half-smiling, half-glaring at me. “Where’s the ring?” he asks.
I take the box out of my pocket, put it on the table, and crack it open. The greenstone in its gold setting gleams in the low light from the lamp.
I remove the ring from the box, turn it over, and inspect the inscription. “I think it’s really it,” I say softly. “Atticus gave this to Hinerangi a hundred and sixty years ago. Isn’t that something?”
“It is. Are you going to try it on?”
I remove it and try it on my right hand. It’s a little big for my fourth finger and too small for my middle finger. “Oh well. We’re going to display it anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”
He takes it from me and examines it.
“You should be careful,” I tease. “It’s supposed to make whoever touches it fall in love.”
He turns it over in his fingers. “No worries there.”
I watch him read the inscription, my heart banging on my ribs. It was a blunt statement, and it takes me back as much as his previous heartfelt compliment. Jesus. Talk about conflicting messages.
He holds out the ring and, when I don’t immediately take it, looks up. “What?” he asks, frowning as he sees my expression.
“Nothing.” I don’t know how to phrase what I’m feeling, or why I’m so upset. Oh shit, what a fucking muddle.
He studies me. Then, suddenly his expression softens. “I meant because I’ve already fallen in love with you.”
I go still for about ten seconds, then finally manage to say, “What?”
He has a bite of a sandwich, looking amused. “Don’t tell me you’re shocked.”
“I…” Words won’t form in my head.
He licks mayonnaise from his fingers. “I fell in love with you ten years ago, Lora. My feelings for you were like a volcano—they’ve been dormant since we’ve been apart. They didn’t go extinct. And now they’re erupting again.” His eyes gleam at the rude connotations.
But I don’t laugh, because I’m still stunned at his throwaway comment. He’s in love with me? The fact that he’s actually admitting it completely takes my breath away.
“Eat your dinner,” he says. “You need to keep your strength up if we’re going to go at it a hundred percent.” He tries not to laugh at the look at my face.
“You’re so romantic,” I say sarcastically, trying not to tremble as I have a bite of the sandwich.
“Sorry.” He has a sip of Champagne and waggles his eyebrows. “I mean when we make luuurv .”
“Don’t mock me.”
“I’m totally going to mock you. That’s part of the hundred percent power dynamic.”
That makes me laugh. “We’re not in the bedroom yet.”
“I’m warming up.”
I continue to laugh while I finish my half of the sandwich and the fries and sip my Champagne.
When we’ve finished, Linc pours us both another glass, and we take them outside onto the deck. He lights the citronella candle on the table to keep away any insects, and then goes inside and brings out a throw from the sofa. It’s summer so it’s not icy cold, but the breeze blowing over the river brings a freshness to it, and I’m grateful for the throw as he opens it out and places it across us both where we’re sitting next to one another on the wooden bench.
I bring up my knees and huddle down, while he stretches out his legs and rests a hand on my thigh.
It’s quiet out here. The lodges are separated by fences, so we can’t see any other guests, and I can’t hear anyone either. The call of a ruru—a New Zealand owl—sounds from the trees behind the lodge, sounding like its English name—morepork! morepork! but I know we won’t be able to see it.
“Are you?” Linc asks.
I look at him, frowning. “Am I what?”
“In love with me?”
Our gazes meet, and lock.
“Yes,” I say eventually. I don’t need to elaborate or tell him that I’ve been in love with him since I was fourteen; I’m sure he knows that.
He takes my hand in his. Then he sighs and brings it to his mouth so he can kiss my fingers.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
“That I’ve made things difficult for us.”
“We have,” I correct. “Not you.”
He tips his head from side to side. “I’ve got something else to admit.”
My stomach flips. Oh God, he’s married, and he’s got four kids… I remove my hand from his. “Okay…”
“I knew you worked at the museum. I went there hoping to see you.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“Part of the reason I came back to New Zealand was to meet you again.” He hesitates. “Your social media is private, so I haven’t been able to follow you, but I’ve Googled you often through the years, and last year I saw that big article about the museum on New Zealand’s Archaeology News.”
My jaw drops. When Fraser took over the museum, he spent a few years gradually refurbishing it. Last year the final section was completed, and we had a grand re-opening, with a big party. He invited lots of important guests—MPs, heads of organizations, prominent people in the community—and photographers took hundreds of photos. I did go, although I tried to stay in the background, but it was inevitable that a photographer would catch me in a shot. I was standing with Fraser, and they posted it right on the front page of their website.
“That dress,” Linc says. “Man. I nearly got on a plane and flew straight here.”
I wore a long black dress that was very understated, but I guess it clung in all the right places.
“I’d already been invited to the conference,” he continues. “I wasn’t going to go, but I accepted the day after I saw that photo. Dad—Don—dying was just a coincidence. I was already coming here to see you.”
My heart is racing, but I sit still, afraid to break the spell.
“Say something,” he says. “Are you mad at me?”
Slowly, I put down my glass. Then I slowly get to my feet.
He sits up hurriedly. “Shit… Lora… I’m so sorry… I know I didn’t tell you about Maureen, and it must seem like I lie all the time, but I…”
He trails off as I turn to face him. I move right up between his legs. Then I climb on top of him, straddling him and leaning on the back of the seat, the same way I did the very first time we had sex.
I lower my head so my mouth is over his. He doesn’t move; I think he’s holding his breath.
I sigh, so my breath whispers across his lips.
“I’m crazy about you,” I say. And then I kiss him, feeling his lips curve up beneath mine.