New Zealand Brides Box Set

by Diana Fraser

  * * *

  Maddy had left it till the last minute before arriving at the doctor’s surgery. She wanted it to be business only. No lunch, nothing that would be difficult to handle. But there was no answer, so she had no choice but to go next door to where he lived.

  The last thing she expected when she knocked on his door, was for it to be answered by a half-dressed doctor, wearing only jeans and a hastily pulled-on shirt which was unbuttoned, and rubbing his hair with a towel. A trickle of water ran down his chest from his hair.

  “Hey,” he said as he stood back, to allow her to enter the narrow hallway. “Sorry, about my state of undress, but I thought you were coming earlier, and then I thought I must have got it wrong and you were coming tomorrow. So I went to the gym and just got back.”

  “It’s okay. No need to apologize.” Although there was, but not for the reasons he thought. His chest was definitely responsible for diverting her attention. Her gaze slipped lower. And his muscled stomach, with the smattering of hairs, was inviting a hand to press against it. Yes, he needed to apologize for that, because she most definitely didn’t want to see, or think the things, it was making her feel.

  “I think there is.” He waved her through to his study. “It’s not exactly a professional way to begin our… our…” But it seemed words escaped him, too. He shrugged off the incomplete sentence.

  She blushed at the omission of the word relationship. The very fact he couldn’t say the word indicated that, despite her best efforts, this was becoming more personal than she wanted it to be.

  “So,” he said, picking up a cardboard box from the bottom of a cupboard. “Here it all is. I do all the paperwork at home. Well, the small amount I do do, I do here, at home.”

  His winning smile, combined with the chaos he held in his hands, broke the sexual tension, and she burst out laughing. She took the box and placed it on the desk.

  “It’s all yours,” he said. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”

  “No. I’m fine, thanks. I’ll get on with the job.” She looked around and saw a modern computer. “Thank goodness for the laptop. I’ll make a list of any queries and come and find you when I’ve finished.”

  “You’re a miracle worker.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet.”

  “But you will. I can see it in your eyes. And,” he said, backing out the door, “you’re the only person who’s looked at that box and agreed to help.”

  He closed the door behind him, and she picked up a few illegible scrawled invoices and wondered what she’d let herself in for.

  * * *

  By five o’clock she knew. The state of his accounts was worse than Flo’s—although the bottom line was far healthier. There were unpaid invoices, consultations not charged for, even invoices paid for in kind, with meals, beer, other things which Gabe had apparently agreed to instead of payment. He was either hopelessly ineffective, or hopelessly kind and caring. Maddy suspected the latter. The rest of his business on the laptop proved he was efficient where he needed to be.

  She looked through the window and saw him outside, talking on the phone. She hesitated, watching him, waiting until he’d finished, not wanting to disturb his call. He paced the small stone-flagged courtyard on tanned bare feet; his jeans were worn where they stretched against his thighs and elsewhere. She tore her gaze upward. His shirt was still hastily buttoned and open at his neck. It was an old shirt, white, with some faded blue pattern on it. But it wasn’t his clothes that drew the eye. It was him. He wore them, rather than the other way around. He had an appealing ease to his movements, he gesticulated while he talked, and had an infectious laugh. She had to face the fact that he had charm—bucket loads of it. He turned suddenly and met her gaze. She froze, embarrassed to be caught out. But his eyes and smile were warm, and he beckoned her out.

  She lifted the latch on the French windows and stepped outside. It was hot, and the fragrance of jasmine hung over chairs whose decrepitude had been partially covered with vivid pink paint. The courtyard was walled in on all three sides by neighbors, and as well as being on the phone, Gabe was also carrying on a conversation with his next-door-neighbor. It seemed his call wasn’t as confidential as she’d imagined.

  “Maddy, come and meet Fred. He keeps an eye on me.”

  A man, who must have been over eighty, popped his head around a tree and stuck his hand through the tangle of jasmine to her. “Pleased to meet you!”

  She reached out and shook his hand. “You, too.” She looked, bemused, from Gabe to Fred.

  “Gabe tells me you’re here to sort out his accounts,” Fred said, in a north of England accent.

  “Yes. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  Fred coughed out a hollow laugh. “Either you haven’t seen the full extent of his mess of papers, or you’re a miracle worker.”

  “She’s a miracle worker,” said Gabe, finishing his call. “A miracle worker who’d no doubt like some refreshment. See you later, Fred.”

  “Only if you’re lucky,” Fred muttered and shuffled away.

  “Would you?” Gabe asked her. “Like something to drink, I mean?”

  “Yes, please. That would be great.”

  They got as far as the steps on to the small deck when there was a voice from the other side of the brick wall. A mop of gray curly hair was all that could be seen.

  “Mrs. King!” Gabe greeted the hair. “I haven’t seen you for a few days. Is everything all right?”

  What followed was a long reply about every part of the woman’s body. All her aches and pains were described in excruciating detail and, much to Maddy’s surprise, Gabe let her talk.

  After a while, the woman quietened down, and Gabe passed her a white long-haired cat which Maddy had assumed was his. It seemed the cat spent most of the time in his garden, no doubt appreciating the peace in Gabe’s garden compared to the neighbor’s, she thought.

  As they returned indoors, she waited for Gabe to pass comment on his neighbors. But all he did was ask her whether she preferred a tea, wine, or beer.

  “A beer would be great, thanks.” She sat in the small seating area the other side of the kitchen bench. Still, she waited, but he passed no comment. “Your neighbors…”

  “Yes?” He passed her a beer from the fridge.

  “They’re very… friendly.”

  “Yeah. They’re like family. Fred’s a case. He knows everything about my life before I do.” Gabe swigged his beer and didn’t seem the least perturbed by the fact.

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “No,” he said, looking genuinely puzzled. “Why should I?”

  She shrugged as she tried to figure out why he should. “Because… most people want privacy.”

  “Not me. My life is an open book. Whether I’m here, or overseas working, I like to know the people around me.”

  “You work overseas?”

  “Yes. With Médecins Sans Frontières I travel a couple of times a year, mainly to Papua New Guinea. It’s become a home away from home for me.”

  “I suspect everywhere you go is your home.”

  He frowned as he considered the matter for a few moments, before looking back at her with surprised and interested eyes. “You may be right.”

  Gabe was one contented man. She’d never met anyone like him. “I don’t have a home,” she said.

  Gabe looked shocked. “You must have.”

  “No.” She laughed at his expression. “But it’s fine. I don’t want one either.”

  “Then you’re not happy.”

  “I—” She couldn’t continue because she didn’t know how to reply. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d asked herself this question.

  “Maybe you should stop doing accounts and do the work you were trained in—computers”—he waved a hand—“and archaeology.”

  “Oh, I haven’t done any archaeology for a while.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  She licked her lips as she tried to thin
k of a reason which would satisfy, but which wasn’t the truth. She failed. “I stayed put for a while. In Amsterdam, with a friend, and then afterward”—she shrugged—“I traveled.”

  “How come you don’t need the money? Independent means?”

  “No. I mean I stand to inherit some money from my uncle at the end of the year, but it won’t be much. He didn’t live the high life.”

  “He probably saved it all to leave to you.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “How come you don’t know for sure? Most people would be dying to find out how much they’re going to inherit.”

  “Not me. I haven’t been in touch with my solicitor for some time.”

  “Ah, traveling around.”

  She took a swig of her beer and nodded. “And using up my funds. I’d been…” She hesitated again. Talking to Gabe was turning out to be a minefield. She’d been about to say “putting off coming,” but that would only lead to more questions. “This is my last trip for a while. One last return trip and then back to work in Europe, or wherever I can get a job.”

  “You might get one here.”

  She was silent. She might, but how to tell him that that was the very last thing she wanted? She grunted non-committally.

  “I can’t imagine what that’s like,” Gabe said.

  “What what’s like?”

  “One place being equally attractive, or unattractive, as the other.”

  “They’re not all equal. Some universities have better research facilities, more interesting projects than others.”

  Gabe’s smile faded to a gentle quirk on his lips. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “I meant not having a place you call home.” He paused, but she looked away. She couldn’t give him an explanation. Not now. Possibly not ever. “Where were you born?”

  “Copenhagen. My father was from Scotland, and my mother, Danish.”

  “And you have no family there?”

  “None that I know of. Probably distant family.” She shrugged. “Too distant to count.”

  “No family is ever too distant to count.”

  “Family means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” A shadow fell over his expression as if thoughts of family weren’t all happy ones.

  “Well, it doesn’t to me.”

  “You know,” said Gabe, thoughtfully. “You should come to Belendroit and meet my family.”

  Maddy gasped and tried to cover it up with a cough, as she looked down at her beer, scraping the edge of the damp label aside with her nail. Belendroit! She’d never imagined she’d receive an invitation to visit there. She’d thought she’d turn up and knock on the door at the end of the six months. But an invitation? She felt a surge of panic as an alternative, very different, version of the future suddenly appeared before her. She couldn’t let this new vision become a reality. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me because I don’t have a family?”

  He took a sip of his beer, but his narrowed eyes watched her. He didn’t rush to answer, as if he was trying to figure her out. “I guess, yes.”

  “I’m fine.” She tried to assume a bright and breezy manner, but she suspected if the creasing around his eyes were anything to go by, that she hadn’t succeeded in fooling him.

  “I’m sure you’re fine. But”—he sat forward on his seat, and Maddy was taken aback once more by the power of his presence—“you know, ‘fine’ is a pretty mild kind of thing to be. If you find ‘fine’ satisfactory, I think feeling ‘great’ would blow your mind.”

  Maddy couldn’t help imagining how Gabe could elevate her mood to ‘great’ and, once there, her mind refused to behave. She swallowed, embarrassment at her flushed cheeks making them flush even more. “I… I…”

  He grinned. “Sorry.” He sat back, and it was as if he’d pulled away from a caress, although he hadn’t touched her. She took another nervous gulp of beer. “It’s the curse of being a doctor. You can’t help trying to figure people out, and helping them.”

  “I’m fine,” she repeated, wincing at her use of the word, which had never occurred to her as inadequate before. “I’m really okay.” Even worse, she thought. “I don’t need help.”

  “Sure. But the invitation still stands. Why not come tonight? Not everyone’s home, but Rachel and Zane will be around, and my Dad. And you’ve already met Amber, although she probably won’t be there. Rachel’s a wonderful cook,” he added, as if that might tip the balance.

  Belendroit. Maddy knew the word was French for a beautiful place and it had always had the ability to conjure up something magical, a place of dreams. It had been spoken of so many times before that it had become almost mythical. And when she’d agreed to keep a promise to return to Belendroit, and get to know Gabriel Connelly, it had remained mythical. But now she was here, and it was reality. And it felt too much, too soon.

  “The only scary thing about Belendroit are the dogs,” said Gabe, “Stanley and Boo are two very silly cocker spaniels who will try to lick you to death.”

  Maddy laughed. “It’s a kind invitation, but I’d feel uncomfortable going to someone’s family home who I don’t know well.”

  “Okay.” He crossed his arms and sat back and frowned. “How well do you have to know me before you accept the invitation?”

  She laughed, relieved that he’d accepted her explanation. “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it needs to be longer than twenty-four hours.”

  “There you go, again, reducing reality down to numbers.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a fact.”

  “And another fact is that I’m always bringing strangers home to meet the family. They’re used to it. You’re nothing special, you know,” he teased with a grin.

  “That’s good to know.” It should have been good to know, but Maddy felt a rush of disappointment and was angry with herself.

  “I thought it might make you feel more comfortable. It’s not a date, nothing to make you feel ill-at-ease, just dinner with a large, noisy dysfunctional family, who happen to try to be on their best behavior around strangers.”

  She smiled. “You’re creating an interesting picture of your family for me.”

  “How about I pick you up around six? Dad insists we eat early, despite Rachel trying to push the time later.”

  Maddy suddenly had a vision of arriving at Belendroit in Gabe’s car, as if they were a couple. It was wrong; totally wrong. “No, thanks. Look, I appreciate the invitation, but I’d prefer not to.”

  “You shouldn’t be shy. My family doesn’t bite. Normally.”

  “I am shy, whether people bite or not. And, I’m sorry, I’d feel uncomfortable. I mean I hardly know you, and your family might jump to conclusions.”

  “Like what?” He grinned.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, that there might be some something between us.”

  “There is something which brings us together.” Her heart nearly stopped as he stepped closer to her and reached down. His hand brushed hers as he picked up a bundle of receipts. She drew in a sharp breath. “These. You’re good with figures, and I’m not.”

  “You know I don’t mean that.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  She’d fallen into a trap of her own devising. She licked her lips. “That we’re in a relationship.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head, willing him not to interrupt. “And I have no desire to be in a relationship. I’ll be leaving here in six months, alone.”

  To give Gabe credit, he barely missed a beat before continuing. “Fair enough. Message received and understood. So now that’s out in the open, why don’t we have some good platonic fun, with or without other people? Do some sightseeing, hang out and have a few beers. Make your months here enjoyable—great, even. What do you say?”

  She grinned. She could accept those terms. They fitted with the promise she’d made, and they fitted with what she could do emotionally. “That does sound great.”


  “Even on those terms I still can’t lure you to Belendroit?”

  She shook her head firmly. “No, I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”

  It was clear from Gabe’s face that he didn’t understand. A cloud had descended. But she couldn’t enlighten him. She couldn’t explain why it would feel all wrong to go to Belendroit escorted by Gabe.

  “Right,” she responded, too quickly, suddenly anxious to avoid any pregnant pauses—silences filled with unasked questions, and unacknowledged attraction. “So, I’d best be off now.”

  “Sure.” He gave a subdued smile as if he understood, and gestured toward the front door. “After you.”

  They walked along the corridor to the front door, but even as she left the house and stepped out into the evening sunshine, the shadow hadn’t lifted from Gabe’s face. And she didn’t know how to make that happen without revealing everything, and it was too soon to do that.

  She’d made a promise which she’d vowed to keep until the six months were up. And then? She couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was going to tell Gabe that the reason she was here was she’d made a promise to a man—and not just any man—but Gabe’s twin brother, Jonny.

  4

  The days fell into a routine of sorts which Maddy found herself enjoying, despite everything she’d anticipated. She’d never been an early riser, but the smell of bacon frying had the same effect on her as on every other resident of The Backpackers’ Lodge—nobody wanted to miss out on one of Flo’s breakfasts.

  People from all over the world came and went, some for a few days, some for longer, drawn by the beauty of Banks Peninsula and Akaroa Harbor. And breakfast was usually spent in conversation with the others until it was time to help clean the rooms and do the paperwork.

  Then the morning was hers until she was due at Gabe’s house at one in the afternoon. She’d set the time. She knew he’d be busy and he was. Some days she didn’t even see him. Gabe had stuck to her request that they be friends only and hadn’t made any advances toward her, for which she was grateful.