His heart raced, and he swallowed hard. “It was hot a lot of the time. There’s nothing like a cool shower after days out in the desert.”
“Mmm. Did you all shower together?”
That made him laugh, and he loosened his tight grip on the wheel. “You have a one-track mind.”
“You started it. I was asking a perfectly standard question about the climate and you had to bring naked soldiers into it. Were there women in the Army?”
Her changes of direction threw him every time. He glanced across at her. Her bright eyes told him that somehow she’d seen through him again.
“Yes,” he said. “Some.”
“Was there a woman in your scouting party?”
“Yes.” How had Callie known?
“What happened to her?”
“She died,” he said.
They fell quiet. He concentrated on finding the road to St. Clair, sliding on his sunglasses as the bright sun bounced off cars and windows.
He waited for the consolatory phrases, the I’m sorry and Oh, Gene, how terrible.
“Do you disagree with having women in the Army?” she said instead.
He shook his head. She should have been a psychologist. “No, absolutely not.”
“You’re saying what you think a woman would want to hear.”
“It’s what men do.”
“It’s what you’ve trained yourself to do because of your ex. I’m not Angela. Tell me what you really think.”
He slowed at a roundabout and took the road south toward the coast. “I think women should have all the opportunities men have. If they want to fight, they should be able to. And I mean that.”
“But you’d rather they didn’t?”
Now he felt irritated. He didn’t want to discuss this. It was like she kept poking him with a cattle prod until all his carefully restrained emotions and feelings came tumbling out. Maybe if he answered her, she’d stop asking questions. “When the scouting party was fired on and I was shot, four of the party died instantly. I lay there for three days with them dead beside me. If you’re asking whether I have more nightmares about Lisa’s blank eyes staring up at me than I do the three guys who were shot with her, yes, I do. She was tough and brave and fearless, and I respected her as a soldier, but she was a woman, and I don’t care how many times I’m told we’re all the same, I don’t feel that way.”
Callie studied him calmly, apparently unconcerned about his outburst. “You think of us as the fairer sex?”
“If by that you mean am I glad that you’ll never be on the front line with a rifle in your hand, yes. Am I relieved that all you have to think about is making yourself and other women look gorgeous without their clothes? The answer is a resounding yes. I know it’s sexist, but you know what? I don’t care. I think it’s great that women have every opportunity to excel, and I admire and support those who do, but I have an urge inside me to protect you, and that’s never going away, no matter how many times I’m told it’s sexist.”
He stopped, his heart pounding. He’d said too much. She was going to roll her eyes and tell him to shove his opinions where the sun didn’t shine.
But when he glanced at her, he saw her lips curving up, and warmth in her eyes before she slid her sunglasses on.
“We must be nearly there,” she said, tapping on the window. “There’s the sea.”
“Callie, I…”
“It’s okay.” She laid her hand on his briefly on the steering wheel, her fingers cool against his skin.
So he let it lie, and instead studied the view of the waves running up the beach, the Pacific Ocean sparkling in the afternoon sun, and lowered his window to let the fresh sea air calm him.
It was so odd how Callie made him feel. When he’d been with Angela, he’d often felt as if he were a dog she enjoyed brushing the wrong way, against the growth of hair. He’d felt constantly on edge as she picked apart and analyzed every little detail of their conversation. She hadn’t understood him at all, hadn’t had a clue what made him tick, and even though it hadn’t all been hell and they’d had some good times, ultimately it had been a relief when they’d broken up.
Callie was so different that it was like trying to compare apples and oranges. It was as if she already knew the answer to her questions, but she asked them anyway because the way he answered gave her even more insight into him. He thought he didn’t like to talk about himself, and yet she was able to coax details out of him right to the point where he couldn’t bear to talk anymore, which she appeared to understand. It puzzled him, irritated him, and warmed him through all at once.
“Here it is.” He spotted the hotel sign and signaled to take the turning into the car park. At that moment, his phone started ringing in his jacket pocket on his back seat.
“Want me to get it for you?” Callie half turned in her seat to retrieve it.
“No, it’s okay, it’ll go to voicemail.” It was probably someone from his office, and he didn’t want Callie talking to them.
He parked, and they retrieved their cases and made their way to the front desk. He fought against the urge to carry Callie’s case for her. Women didn’t like men offering to help them nowadays. He’d already made an idiot of himself by saying he had an urge to protect them—he didn’t need to compound it by doing the modern equivalent of laying his cloak over a puddle and offering to duel for her.
The hotel was all white walls, glass, and brightly painted pictures, fresh and cheerful. They checked in and took their cases up to their rooms on the first floor. Gene heard Callie exclaim as she walked into her room, and he left his suitcase propping open the door and followed her in, smiling as he saw her hands cupping her face in wonder as she looked out at the sea.
“How gorgeous,” she said.
“Mmm.” He let his gaze slip down her from behind, following the dip of her waist, the swell of her bottom, the shapeliness of her legs. Her ex must have been a Class A idiot, he mused. Callie was sexy, funny, and intelligent, and the prat had cheated on her. On second thoughts, he wished duels still existed, because he would have been happy to call Jamie whatever-his-name-was out on one.
She looked over her shoulder and caught him admiring her. “Enjoying the view?”
He gave her a wry look. “I’m going to my room. Thirty minutes and then I’ll be knocking on your door, okay?”
“Can’t wait.” She flared her eyes at him. He loved how expressive they were, and how much they reflected her mood.
“Stop it,” he scolded, returning to pick up his suitcase. “You’re incorrigible.”
“It’s my middle name,” she called out just before the door closed.
Smiling, he let himself into his own room and went inside.
Like Callie’s, it had a beautiful view of the ocean, and he spent a few moments just looking at it, letting his emotions settle like a pile of feathers that fluttered slowly to the ground. Talking about his time in the Army, especially about Lisa and the others who had died, always stirred him up, so much so that he rarely spoke of them to anyone now. He remembered the cool touch of Callie’s fingers on his, her gentle words, It’s okay. How did she read him so well?
His phone rang again, making him jump in the quietness of the room. He took it out of his jacket pocket and answered it, still looking at the sea. “Hello?”
“Gene? It’s Kev.” Kev was in charge of Safe & Secure when Gene was absent.
“Hey,” Gene replied. “How’s it going?”
“Depends on your point of view. You okay to talk?”
He turned from the window and crossed to sit on the bed. “Yeah, I’m alone. What’s up?”
“Ms. Hawke has had another death threat.”
Gene felt as if he’d swallowed an ice cube. “Shit. What did it say?”
“The usual horrific stuff. But it also goes into great detail about what she did that day—what time she left the house, where she visited, how long she stayed.”
Gene leaned forward and sank his fingers i
nto his hair. It was the first time they’d been certain that Phoebe was definitely being watched. “Did the letter mention Callie?”
“Only in passing, the same as before. ‘I promise I’ll take away the lives of those you love,’ blah blah.”
Gene’s hand curled into a fist. Over the past few hours, he’d almost forgotten about his real reason for being with Callie. She made him feel as if nothing bad would ever happen, her bright smile washing away all the darkness in the world. But when the sun went down, the darkness was still there, and he had to remember why he was with her. It wasn’t an idle threat. Her life was in danger, real danger, and he was the only one standing between her and the madman who was hunting her down.
“Do you think he’s watching you both now?” Kev asked.
Standing again, Gene forced himself to stay calm and think it through as he paced the room. “I’m betting not. None of us has spotted anyone shadowing Callie, and he’s not yet related her day-to-day steps, so I think he’s concentrating on Phoebe. If all he wanted was to take them both out, he would have done it by now. He wants to scare them, to make them live in fear for a while. But ultimately I think he’ll come after them. And we have to be ready when that happens.” He spoke to himself more than Kev. He had to remain focused.
“Saffie spotted that guy again outside her house,” Kev advised. “She’s taken more photos and distributed them around the team, and we’ve sent them to the STG. Don’t worry, boss. They’ll catch him.”
“Yeah. Okay, thanks. Keep me informed on any developments, okay?”
“Sure thing. See ya.”
Gene hung up and tossed his phone onto the bed. Of course, he had to know all the details about what was happening back at the office. But part of him wished that for once he could leave it all to someone else and just concentrate on being with Callie.
He leaned his forehead on the cool glass and closed his eyes.
Chapter Ten
Callie’s next two appointments went even better than the previous one. Lingerie Plus were thrilled to discover a new line of generously proportioned underwear, and their manager—a young woman around the same age as Callie—loved Rowan’s designs and bought some items for herself on the spot. The best thing was that the store had branches in all the major cities, and the manager promised to bring the Four Seasons brand up at the next head office meeting and spread the word.
JimJam’s was similarly as successful. Primarily a sleepwear shop, they fell in love with Rowan’s large collection of nightwear and pajamas, and agreed to stock all of her designs, as well as a few pieces of lingerie.
By the end of the day, a buzz of excitement had begun to grow in Callie’s stomach. She hadn’t imagined it all. Four Seasons really was going to be as successful as she’d hoped. She couldn’t wait to tell the others.
“What now?” she asked Gene as they got in the car. “Snazzy restaurant and a nightclub?”
“I’m far too old for that,” he said wryly. “Plus, you need your rest—we have a long drive tomorrow. Back to the hotel, dinner, and bed for you, young lady.”
She stuck out her tongue. The corner of his mouth curved up, but he didn’t say anything. He’d been quiet since they’d arrived at the hotel. She suspected it had been something to do with the phone call he’d ignored in the car and presumably taken in his room. He seemed preoccupied, solemn. And that wouldn’t do at all.
“I might go on my own,” she said. “I feel like dancing.”
His eyes widened with alarm. “Please don’t. Because then I’ll have to go with you, and I don’t dance.”
“You don’t dance?”
“Nope. And don’t think I don’t read in your eyes how much you’d enjoy torturing me by making me do it. I beg you, dinner, then bed.”
“If you insist,” she said.
His gaze slid from the road to her. “Alone,” he clarified after meeting her eyes.
“I’m to be alone at dinner, or alone in bed?”
He sighed. “I’m happy to accompany you to dinner.”
“Aw, Gene. You’re such a spoilsport.”
“And you’re a terrible tease.”
“Well, you look so serious. In fact, I shall call you Mr. Serious from now on.”
“I’ve been called worse.” He pulled into the car park. “What time do you want dinner?”
“I’m starving. Let’s eat early.”
“Okay, five thirty?”
“Great. It’ll give me time to get changed.”
They returned to their rooms, and Callie took a shower, then chose a pretty summer dress to wear to dinner. Rowan had made it for her in a stunning, silky fabric covered with orange and red flowers. Callie felt that it complemented the summer weather, which seemed to be turning hotter by the hour. As she listened to the TV while she got ready, she heard the weatherman say that almost the whole country was experiencing a heatwave that showed no signs of moving at the moment. Thank God the hotels and the car had air conditioning, she thought, knowing that it would only get warmer and more humid the further north they went. She’d be a puddle by the time they reached the subtropical Bay of Islands.
At five thirty, a knock sounded on the door, so she picked up her bag and opened it to find Gene waiting for her.
She rolled her eyes as she shut the door behind her. “Don’t you ever relax?” She gestured to his outfit. He’d changed, but only into another three-piece suit.
“Is that a complaint?” he asked as they walked along the corridor. “I thought women liked guys in suits.”
“We do. I feel guilty, though.”
“Why? This is a business trip.”
“I know. But you are allowed to relax.”
“I don’t do relaxing.” He held the door open for her to precede him down the stairs.
“You don’t dance, you don’t relax… How do you let off steam, Mr. Serious?”
“I work out. I’ll go to the gym later.”
“How dull.”
He smiled. “Don’t you keep fit?”
“I walk a lot, and I go to a dance aerobics class at home twice a week. But I don’t like gyms.”
“I can’t imagine you sitting still long enough to use a piece of equipment,” he said. “You’re quite a fidget.”
“Mum used to say I had ants in my pants when I was a kid.”
“That’s a fair description.”
They walked into the busy restaurant, where Callie discovered that Gene had booked a table for them, which was a relief because if left up to her they’d have been forced to eat in a burger joint.
“Shame it’s not outside,” she said as they took their seats in the center of the restaurant. “It would have been lovely in the evening sun.”
“Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything else available,” he said.
“Never mind, this is lovely.”
The waiter gave them a menu, and they perused it for a while before ordering an oven-baked salmon fillet filled with oysters in Gene’s case, and pan-seared scallops in avocado and coriander cream and bacon aioli for Callie.
“I’ll have a glass of Sauvignon, please,” Callie said when the waiter asked what she’d like to drink.
“A Diet Coke for me,” Gene advised him.
The waiter nodded and left.
“Don’t you drink?” Callie asked.
“Not while I’m on duty.” He smiled.
“Please have a beer or something. I feel bad drinking on my own.”
“No you don’t.”
“No, I don’t, but I feel as if I should.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
She relented. Clearly, he wanted to remain clearheaded. Better that, she thought, than be the sort of man who always had a drink in his hand. Looking out of the window, she gave a silent sigh. She wasn’t going to think about her father now.
*
“Tell me about your parents,” Gene said.
Callie’s eyes widened, and she frowned at him. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Read my mind.”
“I apologize. I was just following your example.”
Her lips curved up again. He realized that was their default position—they were nearly always set in a smile. He liked that about her.
“What do you want to know?” she asked.
Obviously, he was going to have to pretend he hadn’t met her mother and father. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with lying to her, half wishing he hadn’t started the conversation, but he was interested to hear her side of the story. “Are they both alive?”
She considered him for a moment, and he could almost see her rifling through the filing cupboards of her mind, deciding which files to extract and what information to tell him. “Yes. My father’s also ex-Army—a major. He lives in Napier now with his second wife.”
“Do you get on well with him?”
“I do. Most people find him grouchy and pompous, but I’m an only child, and he’s always spoilt me, so we get on fine.” She smiled.
He wondered whether she’d mention Peter Summer’s alcoholism, but she said nothing, and he couldn’t think how to raise the subject, so he changed tack. “What about your mother?”
Callie leaned back in her chair and looked out of the window. He followed her gaze. The sun wouldn’t set until nearly nine o’clock this far south, and the beach was still busy, filled with holidaymakers enjoying the summer heat. Kids splashed around in the shallows, throwing beach balls and making sandcastles, while parents read books and took the opportunity to relax while their children were entertained for a while.
Gene didn’t really look at them, though. He was too busy scanning the area and noting any suspicious activity—single, watchful men, or people hanging around parked cars. His phone call to Kev had filled him with renewed enthusiasm to protect Callie and help track down the madman hunting her.
Finding nothing, he glanced around the restaurant. He’d deliberately asked for a table indoors as he felt too exposed outside. It was busy, but so far there were no signs of anything to worry about. He’d remain alert, though. He wouldn’t drink alcohol again until the tour was over and hopefully Kirk had been caught.
[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer Page 8