“You’re going to say that because you’ve been hurt badly today. Of course it will take time for you to get over that, but you will. One day you’ll meet someone. Maybe you’ll be friends first, and then it will gradually develop into something more. You’re too lovely to be alone for the rest of your life.”
The unexpected compliment made her look up to meet his eyes. His smile spread slowly. “I understand that you don’t want to go back to your life as if nothing’s happened,” he said, “but I’m sure you’ll feel better by Monday.”
“I don’t know.” Her brow furrowed. “My friend Neve is taking over the shop for two weeks, so I’m not needed there. I was supposed to be going to Vanuatu for my honeymoon.”
“Perhaps you should go anyway,” he suggested. “Seems a shame to waste the holiday.”
“I did think about it. I thought I might have a torrid affair with an islander and have my wicked way with him in the honeymoon suite.”
He tipped his head back and laughed. “You should.”
She sighed. “I wish I could, but I’m not that sort of person.” Frustrated, she rose and walked across to the window. The clouds had parted to show a splash of stars clearly visible in the blue-black sky above the city. The moon, three-quarters full, looked down on her with cool disdain. “I don’t want to be like this.”
“Like what?” He turned in his chair to face her.
“Reliable. Predictable. Dull.”
“You’re not dull.”
“No offence, Aaron, but you don’t know me. I’m very dull. I can’t name one exciting thing I’ve done in my life. I’ve worked hard to be a nice person, and I don’t regret that, but it’s hardly made for a stimulating time. Everyone knows they can rely on me, and that I’m supportive and will help out with anything they need. But if they wanted one person to go to a party with them, they wouldn’t choose me.”
“Perhaps you should travel,” he suggested.
“I did a bit, when I was younger, but it was on a package holiday, with everything organized, hotels, coaches. I’ve never been courageous enough to do the backpacker thing and just venture out into the great unknown. I’m not very brave or impulsive.”
“Being impulsive is overrated, believe me.”
She turned to rest on the window sill and smiled. “It might not have ended in the best way, but I bet you don’t regret proposing to Nita.”
“No, I suppose not. As I said, she gave me Mat, so I can’t regret it, not really.”
“I’d like to do something impulsive for once.” Her gaze rested on his mouth. What would he say if she walked over to him, straddled him on the chair, took his face in her hands, and kissed him? She’d sink her hands into his hair and take time to move her lips across his, to delve her tongue into his mouth. Those large, strong hands would rise to hold her, maybe even to cup her breasts. She could only imagine how it would feel to make love with someone else. Mal hadn’t been bad in bed, but the thought of letting another man strip her, cover her body with kisses, slide inside her… It made her heart race.
She wouldn’t, of course. For a start, his son lay asleep in the bed next to them. And even if he hadn’t been there, she would never have been brave enough to do it anyway. Aaron liked her, or at least he gave signs that he did, but she was rusty where signals were concerned, and maybe she’d read him wrong. She’d die if she plucked up the courage to kiss him only to have him thrust her away in shock.
Besides, what would he think of her? Only hours ago, she’d been jilted at the altar. It didn’t say much about her if she immediately turned to the first guy she met and asked him for sex.
This morning, she’d been prepared to pledge her life to one man, but he didn’t want her. She’d thought the humiliation had died down, but at the memory it swept over her again, taking her breath away. How long would it be before she could think about this morning without bringing up these emotions?
“Hey.” Aaron stood and walked over to her, obviously spotting her change of mood. “Come on, don’t get upset again. He doesn’t deserve your tears.”
“I know. It’s just… I thought I’d gotten over it. But I haven’t. I keep thinking of that moment when I saw Hitch’s face and I knew that was it…” She pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to cry again!
“Come here.” He put his arms around her again. “It’s going to be okay. You just need time. It heals all wounds.”
She could barely remember the last time he’d hugged her—she’d been upset, and it had been nothing more than one human being giving another comfort. She’d been so caught up in her misery that she hadn’t really thought about it at all.
This time, though, it felt different. Her emotions were still in turmoil, but as she slid her arms around his waist, she was extremely conscious of him as a man. The All Blacks top was silky and tight, his muscles firm and defined beneath her fingertips. He smelled of warm male and his enticing aftershave. In the V neck of the top, she could see tanned skin with a dusting of hair, and she had to restrain herself so she didn’t reach up and kiss him there. She didn’t know him at all, and yet at that moment she trusted him as much as any of her friends, even as much as her brother. He’d rescued her from the rain, brought her back to the room with his son, shared his food, and attempted to comfort her.
Being there with him, thinking about him this way… Her brain knew it was wrong. Why did it feel so right in her heart?
She moved back a little, rested her hands on his chest, and looked up at him. He dropped his arms but slid his hands to her hips as if reluctant to let her go.
“I want to kiss you,” she said, surprising herself. “That’s stupid, right? It’s because I’ve been dumped, and I’m hurt, and I’m looking for comfort. That’s all, isn’t it?”
“Of course.” Except he looked at her lips as if they were covered in melted chocolate and he wanted to lick it off. “It can’t be anything else.” His gaze rose to meet hers.
For a long while, they just studied each other.
“I’m not going to kiss you,” he said eventually. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
His lips curved up. “It would be very wrong of me. I’d be taking advantage of you. You’re vulnerable right now, very emotional, and you’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. I’m not perfect by any means, but I do consider myself a gentleman. If I were giving myself advice, I’d tell myself to pick up the phone, book you another room, and get you out of here as soon as was humanly possible.”
“I’d understand if you did. That would be the sensible, practical thing to do.”
They studied each other for another long moment. Bridget was sick of being sensible and practical. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him, and be comforted by the fact that he obviously found her attractive.
He must have seen the hunger in her eyes because he cupped her face with his large, strong hands, his skin warm on hers. He moved closer. Then he leaned forward and touched his lips to her forehead and rested them there for a moment.
She sighed. “A whole city full of guys who might have taken advantage of me, and I pick one with principles.”
He chuckled. “Sorry about that.” He moved back, took her hand, and led her back to the table. “Sit down for a moment. I have an idea.”
She sat back at the table, and he shuffled his chair forward. To her surprise, he took her hands in his.
“It seems to me that maybe you need a little break,” he said. “Some time away from your normal life, to heal and recover from the trauma. So I was thinking… I live up in Russell, do you know it?”
“You said it was in the Bay of Islands?”
“Yes. It’s actually at the end of a long peninsula, but for all intents and purposes it’s like an island, and most people get to it by boat. It’s small and beautiful, nice and quiet, with lovely beaches. It would be the perfect place to get away.”
She surveyed him blankly, not quite certain w
hat he was suggesting.
“My surgery’s in the center of the town,” he said. “And I live just up the hill, in walking distance. You could stay in one of the hotels, or there are lots of bed and breakfasts. During the day, you could have a look around the town, and maybe hire a car and go across to Paihia and Kerikeri, and then after work we could meet up and have dinner, if you wanted, or I could show you around… whatever you felt like.”
Her lips started to curve up. “It sounds like a lovely idea.”
He hesitated. “I don’t want you to think… I’m not suggesting it because I assume…”
“I know.”
“I like you,” he said simply. “And I’ll be honest—I’m attracted to you. You’ve been through an awful time, and it wouldn’t be right to act on it now. But if you came up and stayed, we could spend some time together and see how things go. Maybe we’ll just stay friends. Maybe it will develop into something more. Who knows? I don’t want to get in the way of anything—if you think you might get back with Mal and make a go of it—”
“I won’t.”
He gave a short laugh. “Okay.” He glanced at the beds. “Look, of course it’s entirely up to you. But I can sleep with Mateo, there’s a spare bed over there, and it’s getting late. Why don’t you stay here and make your decision in the morning? I’m catching the two p.m. flight out of Wellington tomorrow. If you like the idea of getting away, you can follow me up tomorrow or Monday, whatever you wanted. If not, and you’d rather go somewhere else, or just go back to work, that’s fine. Maybe in the morning we’ll wonder why on earth we felt like this and realize it’s all a stupid mistake.”
Why on earth we felt like this… He felt the same way as her, that there was something between them that wasn’t only due to the rebound effect. But he was right—she was tired and emotional, and it was possible that in the morning she’d wake up and think how close she’d come to making a fool of herself.
Should she stay in his room tonight? She had no money, and it seemed silly to get on her high horse now and demand another room when she was wearing his track pants and had told him she wanted to kiss him. She’d stay the night, and tomorrow morning, hopefully everything would become clear.
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll stay.”
Relief crossed his features. “All right then. You look shattered. Why don’t you get into bed? I’ll leave the TV on while I read, and maybe you’ll doze off after a while.”
So she visited the bathroom, then, while he pointedly turned away to tidy Mateo’s clothes up, she slipped off the track pants, slid into the bed, and curled up with a pillow. By the time he turned around, her eyelids were already drooping.
He dropped to his haunches beside her and smiled. “Goodnight.”
“’Night.”
“By the way, when you rang your friend earlier, you said ‘It’s Birdie.’ Is that what you prefer to be called?”
Her parents and Hitch had always called her Birdie, and all her friends did now. Mal had used the nickname and called her things like Tweety Pie. She’d never really thought about it before. Suddenly, though, it seemed childish, a symbol of the innocence and naivety she now despised.
Aaron had recognized that her name belonged to the goddess of spring. She liked the way it sounded on his lips.
She gave a little shake of her head. “You can call me Bridget.”
His eyes creased at the edges. He understood. “All right, Bridget. Sleep tight.”
He crossed to the other side of Mateo and got into bed. The TV flickered, and he changed it to the news and lay there for a while watching the headlines move across the bottom of the screen. Then he picked up his iPad and started reading.
Bridget had wondered whether she would lie there for ages reliving the morning, feeling the humiliation boiling in her stomach, but instead she listened to Mateo’s light snoring and the sounds of the evening traffic far in the distance, and her eyes closed.
Chapter Eight
The taxi pulled up outside Rowan and Hitch’s apartment block. She paid the driver with the cash that Aaron had leant her, went up to the front door, and buzzed their flat.
“It’s me,” she said when Hitch answered. She’d rung him that morning to say she’d be around to pick up her purse and house keys, telling him, “Talk later,” when he began to ask her questions.
“Thank God.” He buzzed her in.
She walked up the stairs slowly, her footsteps quiet in Aaron’s socks, still shoeless. When she arrived outside Hitch’s door, it was open, and he was leaning against the doorjamb, waiting for her. She walked along the corridor and stopped in front of him.
He looked down at her. “You all right?”
She nodded mutely.
He sighed, stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around her. “Oh Birdie. I’ve been so worried.”
She accepted the hug, but couldn’t stop a flicker of irritation. Aaron’s hug had meant to console and comfort her. Hitch was focused on himself, on his fear that something had happened to her. It was lovely that she had people who cared about her, but he’d known she was in a hotel and that she was safe. He needn’t have worried. She wasn’t a child.
Eventually, she pushed at his chest, and he released her and stepped back. She walked past him into the flat and was immediately enfolded in another pair of arms as Rowan hugged her tightly.
“Birdie! Thank God. I’m so glad you’re all right.”
“Of course I’m all right.” She tried to suppress her frustration—they meant well. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I needed some time to myself, that was all.”
Rowan released her, and they both watched her somewhat warily as she walked through to the kitchen. “Is that fresh coffee in the pot?” she asked.
“Yes, let me pour you a cup,” Rowan said.
“I can do it myself.” She did so, conscious of her sharp tone and aware they were exchanging a glance. “Sorry,” she said, bringing the mug into the living room. She sat in the chair, and the two of them sat on the sofa opposite her.
“It’s okay.” Rowan surreptitiously slid her hand between her and her fiancé, and Hitch clasped it in his own. Bridget’s lips curved up. She was so glad that her brother and Rowan had finally gotten together. Hitch had always professed that he didn’t need anyone and that he was happy on his own, but he was so much happier since he’d hooked up with Rowan.
“Nice outfit,” Hitch said.
Bridget stuck her tongue out at him. “Best I could do under the circumstances.” She still wore Aaron’s track pants and sweatshirt. He’d offered to run out and buy her some clothes, but she’d refused, not wanting to be in his debt any more than she had to be.
“Where’s your dress?” Rowan asked.
“I left it behind.” She’d asked Aaron to dispose of it for her. He’d tentatively suggested she take it and keep it just in case, but she’d been quite adamant. She had taken the ring back, though. She’d give it back to Mal at some point. She didn’t want to keep it.
“I’m so sorry about what happened,” Rowan said softly.
Bridget shrugged. “It’s done now. It’s all about where I go from here. Have you heard from Mal again?”
Hitch frowned. “He told you.”
“Yes, Aaron told me. I’m not a child, Hitch. You don’t have to hide things from me.” She saw a mutinous glow in his eyes and anger seared through her. “I know what you all thought of Mal, and that you think I should have dumped him years ago. You’re worried that I’m going to go back to him. Well, I’m not. I loved him, but I’m not stupid. We’re done, and that’s not going to change.”
“Not even if he begs you to give him another chance?” Hitch wanted to know.
She hesitated, thinking about times in the past when he’d come around, told her loved her, and asked her to take him back. There was no doubt that he’d had some kind of hold over her, much the same as Aaron’s ex had over him, by the sounds of it, but just like him, she’d finally reached the end of her
tether. She might not have as much self-respect as some people, but she had enough that she wasn’t going to let a man jilt her at the altar and then come back for more.
“No,” she said flatly. “Like I said, I’m not stupid.”
A frown flickered on Hitch’s brow as if he was trying to work out whether she meant what she said. Rowan shifted on the sofa. “You said it’s about where you go from here. Do you have any plans?”
Bridget sipped her coffee. “I need time to work out what I want from life and what’s important to me.”
“Do you want to leave the Four Seasons?” Rowan looked dismayed.
She looked out of the window. “I don’t think so. I have the flat for two more weeks and then I have to find somewhere else to live. I just need time to think.” She looked back at Rowan, surprised to see her friend’s eyes glittering with tears. “Hey, come on. I’m not just going to give up everything I’ve worked for to sail around the world or something. I love my job, and I’m proud of what we’ve achieved. I don’t want to give it all up. But I’ve been coasting for a couple of years, and I need to… I don’t know… reboot myself, I suppose.”
Hitch put his arm around his fiancée and hugged her against him. “So what are you planning to do?”
“Well, I have two weeks off. I thought I might go away for a while.”
“To Vanuatu?”
“No. I’ll stay in New Zealand. I might go up north for a bit. Spend some time exploring, visit the beaches.”
“Auckland?” Hitch asked.
“Yes, at first, then the Northland. I haven’t been before, and it’s supposed to be beautiful.”
They both looked puzzled. “I suppose,” Hitch said doubtfully. Then he frowned. “Are you going alone?”
“Yes.”
“So this isn’t about Aaron.”
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for him to notice.
“Fuck,” he said.
Rowan’s eyebrows rose. “You’re going away with the guy you met last night?”
“No.” Bridget’s cheeks flooded with heat.
Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4) Page 6