by Kara Isaac
“It was all very proper, I’m afraid. I carried you up here. You got angry at me for trying to put a blanket over you. Told me to leave you alone. I escorted myself next door to my own room, had a very refreshing night’s sleep, and here we are. Me, all ready for another exciting day of hobbit adventures, and you . . . well, probably about to start moving really fast any second now.”
The way he said the final sentence triggered something. Hold on. Hold on. “What time is it?”
“Just after seven.”
She was on her feet. “We have a plane to catch in like an hour.” They could not miss that flight. Not when there was a packed schedule waiting for them at the other end. Everything would collapse like dominos if they were delayed.
“I know. That’s why I’m here. I figured you might need a wake-up call.”
Her mind was speeding. Ten minutes to have a shower and get dressed. Fifteen to round everyone up and get them in the van. Ten minutes to the airport. They might be able to make it.
Grabbing a pair of jeans and a fresh SLT-branded T-shirt out of her suitcase, she threw them on the bed and started throwing everything else back in.
There was only one thing that was less desirable than missing their plane: dwelling on the disturbingly pleasant memory of being in Jackson’s arms.
* * *
What on earth had made him say that? His father would’ve given him the look he used ever since Jackson had gotten too big for him to turn over his knee.
“You asked me to stay.” It had fallen out of his mouth, a joke, but the way her face had collapsed and her eyes been overwritten with fear was far from funny. Even now she remained unbalanced, bouncing all over the room like a careening bowling ball.
“Allie, stop.” Grabbing her wrists, he forced her to a halt. “I’ve got it. I’ll get your stuff together. You go get cleaned up.”
She looked at him, uncertain.
“Go.” He turned her toward the bathroom door and gave her a gentle prod in the small of her back. “I’ll get everything out here together and meet you downstairs. Everyone else has eaten breakfast. They’re meeting us there in ten.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She grabbed her clothes from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the sound of the water turning on.
Stop it, Jackson. Focus. The last thing he needed to think about was Allie in the shower. He’d already been enough of a cur for one morning.
Tossing her spare room key—which he’d taken, suspecting she might need a personal wake-up call—onto the bedside table, he got to work. Checking the wardrobe and drawers, he shoved clothes into her suitcase and zipped it shut.
He turned his attention to the papers and documents strewn over the desk, accordioning them into a pile and shoving them into the satchel on the chair that contained her laptop.
He stole a glance at the clock. After quarter past seven already. If they were in the States, they wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance of catching an eight-thirty flight, but obviously things worked on a different timetable in New Zealand.
Her phone on the nightstand vibrated, doing a little dance across the surface. He let it go to voice mail. Then it started up again, continuing its rumba toward the edge of the table.
Hmm. Maybe it was something urgent. When the phone started up a third time, he snatched it up. Blocked call. Running his thumb across the screen, he put it to his ear. “Allison’s phone.”
A pause.
“Hello?”
“Who’s this? Where’s Allie?”
“She’s . . .” His brain caught up with his mouth before he finished the sentence with in the shower and possibly got her in a lot of hot water. This guy could be her father, her boyfriend. He suddenly realized he’d never considered for a second she might be in a relationship. “She’s not here right now. Can I take a message?”
“Yes. Tell her Derek called. I’ll try her again later.”
Something about the way the guy issued his directive sent a spurt of uneasiness down Jackson’s spine. “Okay. Will do.” Ending the call, he dropped the phone on the bed.
Turning his attention back to closing up the satchel, he realized that the white noise of the shower had stopped. Time to get out of here. The last thing he needed was to have to talk to a fresh-faced and clean-smelling Allie.
He tapped on the bathroom door as he walked past. “Allie. Derek called. He said he’d ring you later.”
Then he opened the door and hauled her stuff into the hallway. Maybe she did have a boyfriend. That would help solve this little problem of not being able to shake the feeling of holding her in his arms. Because if there was one place Jackson Gregory would never go, it was near a woman who was already spoken for. Not ever.
Sixteen
“YOU’VE GOT TO GET IT together, Allie.” Allie muttered the words to herself as she realized she’d been staring at the same piece of paper for minutes and not seeing anything.
The group had spent their first two days in the South Island taking in some of the best it had to offer after her bacon had been saved by a flight delay of seven minutes. For once, no one had complained about taking a couple of days away from Tolkien. Not exactly a hardship when their “days off” revolved around indulging in wine-tasting in rolling vineyards, kayaking crystal-clear waters, and a road trip to the picturesque coastal town of Kaikoura to go whale watching.
It was one of her favorite parts of the tour. However, this time it was lost in a blur of trying to recover lost memories from the boat night, attempting to rein in her unease over Derek’s continued attempts to make contact, and trying to squash her ever-rising awareness of Jackson.
She could not be off her game today—not when letting her tribe loose in the New Zealand countryside was involved. And definitely not when Kat was back on board. Her friend would spot that something was off in a heartbeat and badger her with all sorts of uncomfortable questions Allie didn’t have the energy to evade.
“Miss Allison. Can I talk to you for one moment?” The gray cloak of his Lord Celeborn outfit flapped behind Hans as he walked up to where Allie was standing in the lobby of Hotel d’Urville.
“Sure.”
“Sofia. She is not able to join us today.”
“What’s wrong?” The beautiful unlikely Tolkien nerd had grown on Allie.
He made some indecipherable gestures with his hands. “It is . . . how do you say . . . the women’s time?”
The women’s time? Oh. “Is she okay?”
“No worries. She take some pills and stay in bed today. Very disappointed to miss out on today, but like this.” He clutched at his stomach and pulled a face that made him look like a cross between constipated and under the influence.
“Okay, tell her I hope she feels better.”
She turned her attention back to the list for the day. Well, this threw a spanner in the works. Everything had been carefully orchestrated around eight participants—four duos—and now there were seven.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she pondered the problem. They could still do three groups of two and a soloist. Jackson and Hans were the only solo contenders. There was no way she would let any of the others go alone.
Mr. Duff with Esther, Elroy with Mavis, Hans with Ethel, and Jackson by himself. That could work. Jackson would probably even be grateful, and she certainly owed him after the boat debacle.
Done. Standing back, she triple-checked the four rucksacks in front of her. GPS locators, check. Emergency flares, check. Water, check. Snacks, check. First-aid kits, check. Everything they could need as they competed against each other in an orienteering challenge in the Kahurangi National Park—home to a number of filming locations.
Not that there was really any chance of them needing any of it apart from the water and snacks. The high-tech GPS and emergency beacon system ensured she would know everyone’s location at all times, and
each drop area had been especially chosen to mitigate as many natural hazards as possible. As a backup, there were the set of emergency flares. It would take just one group of lost, dead, or badly injured wealthy tourists for SLT to watch its business go down the gurgler. So on this, the company spared no expense.
Of course, the inclusion of an exclusive wilderness “adventure” across the land used as filming locations otherwise inaccessible to the public helped to justify their high tour fees.
Today, her charges would journey just like the Fellowship, except with helicopters, compasses, and a gourmet picnic lunch at the end of their leisurely hike.
“All sorted?” Kat, whom she’d snagged as her co-guide for the week, was back from checking that everyone’s chosen costume was terrain- and weather-appropriate. No scantily clad Arwens catching pneumonia on her watch, thank you very much.
Allie walked along, zipping up each backpack. “Yup, except Sofia’s unwell, so she isn’t coming. I was thinking of maybe sending Jackson off solo.”
Kat raised an eyebrow. “You think it’s wise sending someone off by themselves? If something were to happen to him . . .”
Her hackles went up. She’d been doing this for two years while Kat flitted in for a few days at a time when there was a lull in the makeup business. “Nothing has ever happened to anyone on one of my tours.”
Kat held up her hands. “Chill, Allie. I’m just asking. Have you ever sent someone off by himself?”
She had a point, not that Allie would ever admit it. “He’ll have a GPS and emergency flares. And if something was going to happen, I’m pretty sure neither of the sisters would be able to prevent it, and he would have been teamed up with one of them if Sofia were coming.”
Kat shrugged. “It’s your call; I’m just the assistant.”
Too right she was. Allie smoothed down her green Woodland Elf outfit. Elroy and Esther would no doubt hate it, but Arwen was already taken, Kat with her Cate Blanchett looks made the perfect Galadriel, and there was no way she was spending another day in a hobbit outfit.
She tried to ignore the little voice at the back of her head chiming in that it didn’t exactly hurt that the outfit was about a hundred times more flattering than a frumpy floral dress. And she got to carry a bow and arrows, which was cool. Even if completely unnecessary, given that the closest she’d get to killing anything would be unpacking the ham sandwiches for lunch.
“I think everyone’s gathered.” Kat pointed to the corner of the lobby where they’d instructed everyone to meet.
“Great, let’s go.” She picked up the backpacks and walked toward the group. “Morning, everyone.”
They all stopped chatting. “I’m sorry to say Sofia isn’t well today and won’t be joining us. So, we were thinking . . .” She paused and caught Jackson’s eye for a second. “. . . of proceeding with three teams of two and one soloist. That is, if you don’t mind going alone, Jackson.”
“Fine with me.” He looked relaxed, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. She turned her attention away before she could linger on how good he looked in his Boromir outfit.
“Um, I’m not sure I’m okay with it.” It was Ethel. “What if something happens to him?”
“You’ll each have GPS tracking with an emergency beacon, and everyone also has emergency flares in their backpacks.”
“Which are hardly going to do him any good if he’s at the bottom of a ravine, unconscious!” Mavis decided to chime in.
Good grief, you would’ve thought they were sending them out into the Alaskan wilderness, not some beautiful, but not exactly difficult, New Zealand countryside. The worst that could probably happen would be that someone might stumble into a wasps’ nest or somehow fall into a gorse bush.
Allie shifted the bags in her hands. “I assure you, he would have to be a long way off course before there would be any chance of him falling down a ravine.”
Jackson folded his arms in front of him, impressive forearms crossing over each other. “I was an exemplary Boy Scout. I’ll be fine.”
Allie caught a look passing between the twins and saw a scheme coming like a runaway train headed right toward her. They wouldn’t. Not again.
Mavis turned back with a small smile playing on her lips. “Why can’t you go with Jackson?”
And there it was. Allie opened her mouth to start listing the many, many reasons why that wasn’t an option, but at the last second she made the mistake of looking at the guy and something shot between them that short-circuited her brain. In that moment, she would’ve trekked through the Sahara in a swimsuit if he suggested it. “Sure. Why not?”
There was nothing for a second, everyone knocked off-kilter by her surprise agreement.
Esther finally broke the silence. “The chopper guy can drop you and Jackson somewhere harder, farther away. Since you already know where we’re going.”
Over her dead, Elf-costumed body. “That’s really not necessary.”
“What do you think, young lady?” Ethel turned her steely eyes to Kat. “Should they get a harder option?”
Allie turned laser eyes on her. Do not even think about—
Kat flashed a megawatt grin at her. “I have just the thing.” Kat reached into a sheaf of papers she was holding and pulled out a route envelope marked VERY DIFFICULT. Allie stared at it. It had never been used. Ever.
Gandalf clapped his hands. “Right, well, that’s settled then. So Jackson and Allie don’t have an unfair advantage, they’ll be dropped off somewhere different than usual.”
She looked at Jackson. His face had leached to the color of photocopy paper. She was going to hazard a guess he hadn’t exactly been paying attention during the Introduction to Orienteering course they’d attended the previous day, and she couldn’t navigate her way out of a paper bag.
They were stuffed.
* * *
Jackson liked to think he was in pretty good shape, but apparently hours hitting the weights and treadmill in the safety of a gym had nothing on grappling with good old Mother Nature.
This little orienteering quest was going to kill him. Or maim him for life. He was certain of it. And they’d only been going all of about fifteen minutes. After being ditched by a smirking chopper pilot, they’d decided to climb the nearest hill to try and get their bearings. Easier said than done.
“When I say, ‘Watch out,’ that does actually mean, ‘Watch out.’ ” Allie offered the advice from over her shoulder after he yelped as a tree branch flicked back and struck him in the middle.
Easy for her to say. She operated much lower to the ground than he did and was clad in the easy-to-move-in robes of a Woodland Elf. She made a very cute Elf, which he was trying very hard not to notice. He was also trying not to read anything into her unexpected capitulation to being partnered with him. He’d failed miserably—on all fronts.
He’d spent the last couple of days trying not to notice things about her and not succeeding. And the more attention he paid to her, the more intrigued he became. At least she seemed oblivious that since their night on the boat, he felt like an awkward teenage boy around her.
Finally breaking through the scrub, they scrambled over some rocks to find a plateau about three-quarters of the way up the hill-slash-mountain they were climbing. Pausing, they surveyed their surroundings.
It’s only the two of you out here, Gregory. Try to get it together and not make an idiot of yourself.
“Okay.” He pulled the topographical map Kat had handed him out of the handy pocket inside his cloak. “Should we take a look and see if we can figure anything out from here?” He unfolded it and looked around for a flat spot on the ground on which to spread it out.
“Don’t look at me.”
“You mean you don’t know how to read this thing?”
Allie shrugged as she twisted her hair back, pulling it into a messy ponytail.
“Why would I need to? Before today all that was required of me was to drop people off at their designated spots, then wait for them at the destination with a massive spread for lunch.”
Excellent. Allie was as useless as he was when it came to the great outdoors. Possibly even more so.
He held the map up in front of him and turned it ninety degrees and then another ninety, trying to look like he had a clue as to what he was doing. He scanned the scenery spread out around them, hoping for something—anything—that would make sense of the paper in his hands.
She groaned. “I didn’t even eat breakfast. I was planning on kicking back with a nice sandwich while the rest of you found your way.”
“Tough life you lead.” He tucked the map under his arm, pulled the compass out of his pocket, and tilted it at her.
She shook her head. “No clue.”
“Seriously?”
She crossed her arms. “Look, buddy, you’re the one who went on the little map- and compass-reading course yesterday, not me. You just go ahead and bust out those Boy Scout skills you were bragging about and get to it.”
“Yeah, about that.”
She stared at him. “You weren’t a Boy Scout, were you?”
“Not even for a single minute. Though I have used a magnifying glass to start a fire before.”
“So how were you planning on finding your way to lunch, oh great solo one?”
He shrugged. “Well, I figured it would either be so easy a blind man could do it, or that if anyone didn’t show up on time, one of you would come find us with your magical little GPS thingy.”
She shifted on her feet.
“So which was it?”
She sighed. “A little of column A, a little of column B.”
“What does it look like anyway?”
“The GPS?”
“Yeah.”
She dug around in the backpack. “Nothing exciting. Black, digital screen. Red button to set off the emergency beacon.” She started digging a bit more. Then she knelt on the ground and started pulling stuff out of the bag. Water, food, first-aid kit.