[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer

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[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer Page 12

by Serenity Woods


  But neither did he move away. Instead, he closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet, fruity scent of her body wash, tasting cherries on her lips. They were as soft as he’d dreamed, and he couldn’t stop a small groan of pleasure rising within him as she pressed her lips to his a few times, sedate and gentle, but sexy as hell.

  The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Callie moved back. Her eyes danced with laughter.

  “I wasn’t going to do that,” she said, walking out. “Your eyes led me on.”

  He followed her, heart hammering, head spinning. “I’m sorry.” He had to remain professional. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Oh, relax,” she scolded, taking out her card as they reached her door. “No harm done. I’m not going to ravish you on the carpet or anything.” She stopped and turned to him. “One thing last night did remind me of is how much we have to live for today. Life’s short, Gene. It can be hard and harsh and filled with all kinds of trials and tribulations. So when something nice comes along, I’m not going to walk away. I’m going to follow my instincts and grab pleasure where I can.”

  Her eyes were bright, daring, rebellious, refusing to apologize for her act. And a teensy, tiny bit nervous, as if maybe she was worried he might quit on the spot and walk away.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “See you for breakfast at eight?”

  He held her gaze. Her lips curved up slowly, and she gave a little nod.

  Gene turned, let himself into his own room, and closed the door behind him. Then he finally blew out a long breath. Waiting for three months before dating Callie was a trial he knew he was going to struggle with. And if she was going to do things like that, he would need willpower of iron to survive.

  He crossed to the bed and flopped onto it, face down, with a long, heartfelt groan.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The drive to the wine district of Marlborough was long and, for Callie at least, rather blissful—five uninterrupted hours in the car with Gene, broken only by a short stop in Kaikoura for a visit to a small lingerie store, following which they took a detour to drive out to the peninsula for lunch, eating it while watching the seals sunbathing on the rocks.

  Apart from that, they hardly saw a soul on the winding road that shadowed the coast on their right, the land on their left consisting of tilled fields, hills and valleys stocked with the iconic New Zealand sheep, and, in the distance, white mountains, their icy tops lost in the clouds. Any settlements they passed through were small and quiet, with little more than the standard ‘dairy’ or general store selling not only dairy products but also newspapers, tinned goods for campers who might be passing and in need of stocking up on emergency supplies, cold drinks, and the traditional Kiwi staple—meat pies, usually containing cheese. Sometimes, a camper van meandered past, and occasionally they passed a parked car with a family having a picnic, but most of the time it was just her and Gene and the long stretch of road disappearing into the distance.

  Conscious that she’d waffled on for most of the previous evening, Callie was worried Gene might be bored, but he certainly didn’t seem it. They talked about everything under the sun, music, movies, even religion, something she didn’t usually enjoy because it tended to bring out the worst in people, but Gene listened to her point of view, offered some of his own, and didn’t try to browbeat her to think like himself, which she appreciated.

  The night before, she’d lain awake for hours thinking about the way she’d reached up to kiss him, and cursing herself for being so forward. Her mother would have been horrified, not because she was old-fashioned and didn’t believe in the girl expressing her thoughts, but because Gene had made it quite clear that he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—get involved until Becky came back. He worked for her, and he was a gentleman, and she knew she’d put him in a situation where it would have been very difficult for him to say no. No doubt he would have been concerned that, if he’d refused to return the kiss, she would have sacked him.

  He hadn’t actively kissed her back—he’d frozen, and he hadn’t wrapped his arms around her, or done anything in fact but stand there and let her kiss him. He had closed his eyes, though, and he hadn’t jerked his head away or exclaimed his disgust. Instead, a low, satisfied groan had rumbled in his chest, almost a moan, and when she’d finally pulled back, his eyes had been half-lidded with desire.

  But that wasn’t the point. The earthquake might have renewed her feelings that life was short and it was important to grab the bull by the pointy things, but she had to let this proceed at its own pace. When Gene was ready, he’d make a move on her, she was sure. Until then, she had to restrain herself and behave in a ladylike fashion.

  She sighed. Boring.

  “We’re nearly there,” Gene said. “Are you tired?”

  Oops. She’d sighed too loudly. “No, nothing like that. It is a long way, but it’s been a beautiful journey.”

  “This is a fantastic part of the world. I love Blenheim. I could live here.” He spoke with enthusiasm.

  “What do you like about it?”

  He took the turnoff for the town center. “It’s a thriving town. It’s always been sunny whenever I’ve visited, and it seems to have everything—coastal activities, bush walks, and of course the vineyards.”

  Callie could see some of them stretching away to the hills surrounding the Wairau Plain, and she knew the vines would be heavy with ripe fruit. “I’ve got an idea,” she announced. “After the appointment today, why don’t we go for a wine tasting at a local vineyard?”

  Gene glanced across at her. “I don’t drink, you know that.”

  “Rubbish. You were just telling me about how you prefer Merlot to Shiraz.”

  “I don’t drink at the moment. Not while I’m working.”

  “Please. I don’t come here very often, and it seems a shame to travel all this way and not make the most of the local produce.”

  “You talk as if they sell cabbages. It’s not as simple as tasting the local coleslaw.”

  “I’m not saying we have to get out of our heads. Have you seen how much wine they put in your glass when you do a tasting? It’s, like, a fraction of an inch.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he said, in a voice that told her he was still going to say no, but he was fed up with her badgering him about it.

  She stuck out her bottom lip. “You’re thirty-one—that’s only five years older than me.”

  “Thirty-two on Sunday.”

  “Well, that’s still only six years. You’re hardly old enough to be my father, so I really wish you didn’t talk like him.” There was enough genuine exasperation there to make her turn her head away and glare out the window.

  Gene said nothing, concentrating on navigating the roads. He drove straight through the town, and didn’t turn off until they were heading toward the fields of vines.

  Callie soon forgot her grump as she looked out and saw a range of long, low, whitewashed buildings with terracotta roofs. She looked at Gene in delight. “We’re staying at a vineyard?”

  His lips curved up, and he steered the car into a space. “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Oh, how lovely.” She leapt out of the car and ran up to the gate. Cobbled paths surrounded the central wooden reception building. To its left were the buildings she assumed incorporated the wine cellar. To the right, a large courtyard backed onto the restaurant. All its doors stood open, and she could see through it to the vineyards beyond. Vines were everywhere, curled around posts and across the latticework over the courtyard. Everything was rich, green, and fertile. She felt as if she were visiting the home of Mother Earth herself.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Gene held out his hand to her. “Come on, let’s check in.”

  She took it, surprised, thinking that his offering it must have been a reflexive gesture, because he hadn’t done it before. He held it until they reached the reception desk, then gave her fingers a squeeze before releasing it. Her skin tingled from his warmth and the delight of touching him. Sh
e wanted more! But she reminded herself of her promise in the car. Practice restraint, Callie.

  They checked in and were shown to their rooms, which both faced the vineyards. Callie unpacked a few things and hung up her dress for the evening and her clothes for the next day, then opened the sliding doors to the small patio and stepped outside. It was heading toward four o’clock, and the sun had begun its descent to the west. The vineyards were bright in the sun, bunches of grapes hanging below the leaves, ripe and sweet.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered, tipping her face up to the sun and closing her eyes.

  “I’ll second that.”

  She opened her eyes in surprise and turned to see Gene leaning against the post between their rooms, watching her.

  “Oh.” She shielded her eyes. “I was talking about the view.”

  He just smiled. “Are you ready to get going? You’re supposed to be at the store at four.”

  Something about his steady gaze unnerved her and sent her heart hammering. “Yes, of course. I’ll meet you out by the car.”

  He nodded, but made no sign of moving. What was he thinking? Was he remembering the way she’d kissed him in the elevator? Because Callie was. His lips had been firm, warm, and dry. They’d parted a little when he’d gasped in surprise, but she hadn’t taken advantage of that. Instead, she’d pressed her lips to his a few times, enjoying the sensation of his bristles against the pads of her fingers, and the deep, spicy tones of his aftershave, sensations masculine enough to send tingles through her lady bits that made her want to pin him to the wall and strip him naked.

  He raised an eyebrow. Callie turned on her heel and went back into her room.

  *

  She was nearly an hour at the store. The manager loved the Four Seasons brand and wanted to go through every piece of lingerie and swimwear. The two of them lost themselves in talking about designs and the clothing business, and both of them were surprised when they heard the store announcement that it would be closing in five minutes.

  Callie shook the manager’s hand and left the store, crossing the high street to where she’d agreed to meet Gene in the bookshop opposite. He came out as she neared, looking—to her surprise—a little flustered.

  “What’s up?” she asked, puzzled at his demeanor. He stood before her with his hands behind his back, shuffling from foot to foot, not meeting her gaze.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “Great. Sorry I was such a long time, but we got talking. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, yes.” He brought one hand up to scratch his nose. “You were gone a while, so I had a look in the shops. I found something, and I thought of you, so I bought it, and then I realized it was inappropriate.” He looked pained.

  “What is it?” she asked, intrigued. “A vibrator?”

  His expression turned wry. “No, not quite.” He hesitated, then brought his other hand from behind his back. He was holding a red rose, a perfect bud, with a piece of silvery ribbon around the stem. “Sorry,” he said.

  Callie reached out and took it, automatically bringing it to her nose to sniff its scent. “Don’t apologize.”

  “It’s not appropriate at all, and I do apologize for that. I didn’t mean to suggest—”

  “Gene,” she said softly, “it’s okay. It’s beautiful, and I like beautiful things. Thank you.”

  He paused, then nodded. “Let’s go back to the car.”

  Callie said nothing more, but inside, she had filled with warmth. He was right—it wasn’t an appropriate gesture from an employee to his employer. But it said everything that words couldn’t right now. He liked her. He wanted to get to know her better. And just knowing that would be enough to keep her going.

  Chapter Sixteen

  One of the reasons Gene had bought the rose was because while he’d waited for Callie in the coffee shop, he’d chatted to Kev, who’d told him there had been no more suspicious activity around Phoebe, no more death threats, and things appeared to have quietened down. Kev had also spoken to their contact at the STG, who’d informed him that they had a lead on Darren Kirk and were hoping to have him in custody within a day or two.

  Gene had felt a rush of relief at the knowledge that it wouldn’t be long before Callie’s life was free from danger. It also meant that he wouldn’t have to act as her personal protection officer anymore. And that meant they would be free to date.

  He’d seen the rose with its light red velvety petals—the same color Callie’s cheeks turned when she blushed—and he’d bought it on impulse, disappointed that up until now he’d not been able to express his true feelings for her. Straight afterward, as he’d walked out of the shop, he’d felt stupid and wished he hadn’t bought it. Kirk wasn’t yet in custody, and a hundred things could go wrong between now and that coming to pass. He had to remember that Callie wouldn’t be safe until Kirk was caught and his men stood down, and until then, Gene had to keep himself emotionally removed from her and remain on guard at all times.

  He’d taken the rose to a rubbish bin and held it there for a long while before cursing himself and walking away.

  Now, he had mixed feelings about his decision to give it to Callie. She hadn’t made a fuss, and didn’t appear to have taken it as a declaration of love, which of course it wasn’t, because he’d only known her a week and they’d only kissed once. She hadn’t even mentioned it again. But as he drove back to the vineyard, he glanced across at her and saw her looking out the window, lost in a daydream, trailing the rose across her cheek to inhale its scent absently, a smile curving her lips. It warmed him through and made him anxious at the same time, but he tried to put his anxiety to one side. It was just a flower, a nice gesture, and she was so lovely, she deserved it.

  That evening was one of the nicest he’d spent in a long time. Relaxed after his conversation with Kev, Gene gave in and agreed to a wine tasting, and the two of them listened to the talk given by the vineyard owner as they sipped at samples of Pinot gris, Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Shiraz, and Merlot, arguing good-naturedly about which was the best.

  Then they returned to the restaurant and spent a long while over a couple of platters of cheese, meat, and seafood, and he allowed himself one glass of Sauvignon as they watched the sun sink gradually toward the horizon. The air was warm and a little sultry, and Callie’s skin glowed, a combination of the wine and the heat bringing a flush to her cheeks.

  She still hadn’t mentioned the rose, and she wasn’t overly familiar toward him or anything, but her manner was relaxed. Whenever she met his gaze, the look in her eyes sent a tingle running through him from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.

  Tonight, she wore a long summer dress in a bright blue the color of her eyes, covered with shining darker blue and green swirls like a peacock’s feather. It was hardly revealing, but it clung to her curves as she leaned forward to lift her drink, drawing his gaze repeatedly to her breasts, the dip of her waist, and the swell of her bottom when she sashayed away to the ladies’ room.

  The fever that had begun days ago grew to a raging heat for her that refused to be quenched. It couldn’t be alcohol, he thought, because he’d only had the tasters and one other glass. But he felt dizzy with lust, desperate to pull her into his arms, to feel his lips on hers. What was wrong with him? He was a grown man, more than able to control his desires. Why did he feel like a teenage boy with his first crush?

  He tried to make the evening last as long as he could, but all good things come to an end, and eventually, as stars began to pop out against the fading darkness, they finished their drinks and walked slowly back to their rooms, lit by the solar lights strung along the path.

  “What a gorgeous evening.” Callie looked up at the stars. Somewhere in the distance, a morepork hooted from a tree, mournful in the night. More pork. More pork.

  “It is. Made more beautiful by the delicious company.” He couldn’t stop the compliment falling from his lips.

  She paused outside her room and turned an
impish gaze up to him. “Delicious? Interesting choice of adjectives. You sound as if you could eat me up.”

  He couldn’t ignore the suggestiveness behind that comment. He gave a short laugh, and her lips curved up, her eyes glittering in the semi-darkness. “I could,” he said, his heart thudding. He moved closer to her, hands behind his back so he wasn’t tempted to touch her. “And I bet you taste sweet, like strawberries.”

  “Shame you won’t get to find out,” she said.

  His heart pounded, and his breaths came quickly. The notion of stripping Callie naked, kissing down her body, and sinking his tongue into her folds had him hard as a rock in seconds.

  But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He was here to protect her, and he couldn’t do that if he was sleeping with her.

  Callie didn’t move toward him, but neither did she move to open her door. She was going to leave it up to him.

  He had to stay strong. For heaven’s sake, he’d coped for months as a single man, in the desert, miles from the nearest desirable and available woman, without a second thought. He could gather the strength to resist one girl for one evening. Even if she did smell divine. Even if her lips did look soft and red as the petals of the rose he’d bought her. Even if she was looking at him with yearning in her eyes. He might not have been old enough to be her father, but he was older than her, and he was a man—he should be the one to exhibit restraint and be wise enough for the both of them.

  Callie moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and something popped inside Gene’s head.

  Fuck it.

  Bringing up a hand to cup her cheek, he moved forward until they were only an inch apart. Callie didn’t move, but her breasts rose and fell quickly, and her eyes widened, the pupils huge in the semi-darkness.

  “Tell me to stop,” he said huskily, pausing when his lips were a fraction of an inch from hers.

 

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