by Anne Ashby
Hours later, responding to the ringing doorbell, Jodie had her emotions under control. Until she swung the door open.
Staring, tongue-tied, as all her great intentions sailed away, Jodie eyes roamed his body. He was so recognisable, so familiar in the same green shirt and khaki shorts. Well not the same, because his tramping clothes had been stained and torn. Her resolve floundered. He looked so like the man she’d fallen in love with—not an arrogant townie at all.
“Hi.” His eyes twinkled. “Got your togs?”
Shal’s text suggesting a swim at Mission Bay had surprised Jodie. An elegant lunch seemed more his style.
Pulling herself together as his brilliant smile landed her in a dithering mess wasn’t easy. Her gaze dropped. Jodie struggled to shut out the vision of him in swimming togs. Would he wear baggies, or tight little Speedos? She shivered.
The suit in her tote was a modest one-piece she used for training. She wasn’t parading in front of him in anything even slightly sexy.
Her breath caught in her throat. Now she was with him, swimming sounded dangerous. Lunch at some flash restaurant was preferable and much safer.
“How’s your week been?”
The breath rushed from her lungs. She could manage small talk. “Fine, thanks. And yours?”
He smiled across at her as he slipped into the car. “Great. Much better than last week anyway.” He slid a sly glance her way. “I’m still plying my secretary with flowers and chocolates, though.”
When he caught her confused frown he explained. “Half my staff was threatening to resign last week. I have no idea why.” The little smile teasing his lips and the raised left eyebrow convinced Jodie not to ask questions. He was dying to give her answers she didn’t want to hear.
“Are you happy to go to Mission Bay? We can go somewhere else if you prefer?”
“No, Mission Bay is fine.” Perhaps it would rain, she hoped, looking at the cloudless blue sky. Or a cold wind might blow in from the sea.
They drove in silence for a moment. Jodie’s fingers plucked at the seam of her shorts as she searched for words. Her eyes darted about. She was amazed he could be so relaxed when she was a bundle of nerves.
She knew every intimate detail of this man’s body, and yet she knew nothing about him. You don’t need to know anything about him to say goodbye, a voice inside her head whispered. Just say it and be done.
The words stuck in her throat. She rationalised she couldn’t tell him yet. Not while he was driving, it would be dangerous...
As they eased through the unusually heavy traffic along Tamaki Drive, Shal needed all his concentration. Approaching Mission Bay, the grassed area beside the beach was full of tents and people milling around. There was some sort of celebration happening there.
“Sorry,” Shal mumbled under his breath even as Jodie sighed with relief. “I should have checked. I don’t take much notice of local events.”
He swung the car around a corner and headed over the hill. “Let’s go somewhere else, this is too crowded.”
No, crowded is fine, she almost yelled. She was afraid he might go somewhere very quiet...like his apartment. Crowds were synonymous with safety.
Jodie’s eyes fell to her clasped hands. If she said her piece now she could just go home. She mentally kicked herself for hesitating too long as he turned into Cornwall Park and parked in one of the empty spaces.
“I brought us a picnic. Are you hungry?” She tried to smile at the eagerness in his voice.
“Ravenous,” she lied, doubting her churning stomach would accept food.
“Great.” He threw a tartan blanket across at her to carry and heaved a large chilly bin out of the boot. Shal chose a shady spot under a pair of taraire trees.
With unsteady hands Jodie spread out the blanket. A quick glance around showed no one close by, although they overlooked the local archery club preparing for an afternoon’s sport.
Fidgeting with the blanket, needlessly straightening the corners, Jodie chewed on her bottom lip. Mission Bay would have been better. He couldn’t exert any pressure in a crowd of people, but here, we’re virtually alone.
As Shal began emptying the chiller, Jodie’s stomach rumbled. It had been a long time since breakfast. Perhaps she could manage something after all.
“Where did you get all this?” She marvelled as still more delights were unearthed.
“A friend of Mum’s runs a lunch bar. I rang her and asked if she could arrange something.” He grinned. “I told her I wanted to impress a girl.”
Jodie felt the heat come into her cheeks as her eyes caught his.
“Wine or juice?”
She blinked, disorientated for a moment. “Oh, ah, juice thanks.” Definitely juice...I need a clear head.
Soon they were feasting on cold chicken, club sandwiches, bacon and egg pie, delicate croissants, tiny pieces of numerous varieties of cake, and delicious fresh fruit salad in an intriguing sauce Jodie couldn’t identify.
“Can I ask you something?” Although Shal’s voice was light, Jodie found her body stiffening. She chewed at her bottom lip.
“Why did you become a lecturer?” Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, his expression seemed mildly curious as he devoured a chicken drumstick. “I expected you’d work for the Park Service or something like that.”
Jodie relaxed. This is easy, almost impersonal compared with what still needs to be discussed.
“I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do when I started Uni, except learn everything I could about protecting our natural environment. I’m still learning, of course. As the years passed, I realised I could do more here, in the city, by teaching others.” She shrugged. “Simple as that.”
“Yes, well, I don’t know much about geography.” He looked around then asked, “You know all these trees, don’t you?”
Surprised, Jodie sat back, frowning at the wistfulness in his voice.
“I don’t recognise any of them, except the kauri.” He pointed with the now bare chicken bone at a tall tree with its distinctive narrow conical crown. “That is a kauri, isn’t it?”
Her eyes followed the chicken bone and nodded.
“I suddenly doubted myself, those lower branches—”
“As the tree matures it’ll shed those branches.” Relaxing, she smiled across at him. “That’s just a baby, probably less than fifty years old. Mature kauri you see in photos and postcards are much older. Tane Mahuta in Waipoua Forest is the oldest surviving kauri, around fifteen hundred years old. There’s evidence trees cut down by the settlers were in excess of two thousand years old. Hence any of the ones planted here after World War Two haven’t even grown to the toddler stage yet.”
“Tell me more.”
His curiosity made Jodie stumble as she pointed out the variety of trees visible. Her voice intensified as he continued to question her, and soon she was sharing her love of the natural beauty surrounding them.
“I’m so sorry.” Her hands flew to cover hot cheeks. “My enthusiasm has made me run on.”
“Don’t be,” he rushed to reassure her. “I remember you saying we shouldn’t be ignorant of our natural heritage. I’d like to learn more.”
“There are lots of good books, or the Internet has—”
“I’d rather you teach me.”
Their eyes met. Jodie’s pulse began to race and she couldn’t look away. Shal lowered his eyes and she felt their heat on her breasts.
“Shal,” she croaked. “We have to talk.” She tried to clear the lump in her throat.
“We have all our lives to talk.” Shal jumped up and began haphazardly throwing everything back into the chilly bin.
Jodie sprang up. “Shal—”
“Let’s go for a walk.” He hoisted up the chilly bin and headed for the car, leaving her feeling very cantankerous.
“Come on,” he called. “We’ll go up to Huia Lodge and look in the information centre. We could get a park map, and walk off some of that food. You can teach me some mor
e.”
****
Shal’s confidence had plummeted when Jodie’s expression changed. The serious, wary look in her eyes unnerved him. He’d done the only thing he could think of to distract her, not wanting to hear whatever she was about to say.
Every time Jodie tried to introduce a personal note to their discussions as they wandered through Cornwall Park, Shal found other ways to sidetrack her. Sometimes their hands would touch as they strolled, but Shal resisted the powerful urge to clasp her hand in his.
Slowly. I must take this very slowly, he warned himself. He was terrified she’d pull away before he had a chance to get close again.
As he drew his car to a stop outside her house, the sun was dipping below the Waitakere Ranges in the western sky. They’d had a great afternoon, but it was over.
He’d managed to avoid every attempt to discuss their relationship. Although he ached for her company, her touch, he resisted the urge to prolong their outing into the evening. Knowing what she was trying to do, his luck might soon run out.
“Shal?” Now her voice sounded even more determined, even desperate.
“Shh,” he whispered as he leaned over. Now he could risk touching her, he’d be gone before she could do or say anything.
His lips teased hers into a response that sent blood rushing through his body. He felt her shiver as her mouth opened. His response deepened as her fingers slid up the side of his face and entangled themselves in his hair.
He jerked away, sucking in noisy breaths. He grasped the steering wheel until his knuckles shone white.
“You’d better go.”
Jodie stiffened in protest. Her lips burned, her body clamouring for the release that only he could bring. Didn’t he...?
One look into the eyes turned toward her was enough. Her churning feelings were mirrored in his blazing eyes. The fierce passion sent a shiver down her spine.
“You’re right,” he said. “We do need to talk; but not now.” His smile was lopsided as his eyes fell to her breasts. “We wouldn’t be talking if I came inside with you now.”
His fingers ran down her cheek. “Come to dinner one night, to my place.” His voice thickened. “I promise we’ll only talk.”
“Maybe a restaurant...”
He didn’t reply for a moment, his eyes smouldering into hers. “I guess you’re right. It can’t be tomorrow. It’s my mother’s birthday and I’m expected, of course.”
It sounded like that was the last place on earth he wanted to be.
“Unless you wanted to come, too?” His eyes took on a different gleam as he grasped her hand. “You could meet my family.”
Jodie reeled back. It’s bad enough trying to sort out how to avoid an affair with this man. I’m not getting involved with his family as well.
“Mmm. Too soon, aye?” She watched his eyebrows shoot up as he spoke. “Oh well, never mind. There’ll be plenty of time to meet them later.”
“I am not meeting your family, Shal. Not tomorrow...not ever.” She pushed his restraining hand away, plunging on. “This is stupid. It has to stop now.”
Her fumbling for the door handle gave him time to rush around the car boot before she alighted from her seat.
“It can’t stop,” he ground out. Clutching her shoulders none too gently, his mouth covered hers. “Don’t deny what’s between us, Jodie,” he muttered. His firm mouth recaptured hers.
Demanding a response she couldn’t help but give, her lips were forced opened by his thrusting tongue. She had to fight the overwhelming need to be close as the tingling began in the pit of her stomach and threatened to consume her.
Lust! Its only lust he’s feeling, screamed a warning voice. She jerked her lips away and shoved ineffectually against his hard chest.
“A restaurant meal, Monday night, seven o’clock. Okay?”
Even in the dwindling light, Shal’s eyes were compelling and magnetic. Jodie’s head bobbed.
She was still standing outside her gate, clutching her tote bag when his car roared away. So much for telling him goodbye.
She stumbled up her pathway, an absolute wreck.
Chapter Fourteen
“You wanted us to talk?” Shal decided the best form of defence was attack. They’d just ordered their meal and now seemed as good a time as any to start destroying all her arguments. He knew there’d be plenty.
Jodie stared, her chin dropping. Good, he loved confusing her. That slight frown and those cloudy eyes seemed to weaken her tremendous inner strength. He grinned. It also brought out his protective instincts.
Her hand wasn’t quite steady as it clasped her wine glass. How would she begin? Would she ease into trying to send me away, or go for the jugular?
“I...I...”
Impatiently he burst out, “I’m not getting out of your life, Jodie.”
Her cheeks coloured. Okay. Anger was preferable to being frozen out. Anger showed some emotional involvement.
“Tell me why you can’t see us together.” He tried to clasp her clenched hand but she pulled it away and hid it under the table.
“We have nothing in common.”
Shal smiled wryly, “I thought we’d found quite a bit in common.”
She had the grace to blush.
“Fine. I’m not getting involved with a townie.” Her green eyes glinted with determination.
“I’ve got news for you, darling. You’re already way past getting involved.” He paused, watching her closely before challenging. “And I’d appreciate if you’d stop calling me a townie in that tone of voice.”
Although his stomach was churning, he hoped he appeared relaxed. He leant back, sipping his wine. “You can call me your lover, your partner, your boyfriend if you like. Use any endearment...but no more townie.”
In the process of drinking, Jodie spluttered and began coughing so fiercely the waiter rushed to her side and poured some water for her.
Shal took pity on her as she recovered her composure. His voice softened. “Circumstances may have denied us the chance to date as most couples do, Jodie, but we learnt so much about each other. We can’t ignore what we shared.”
He stared hard at her bent head. “I don’t want to ignore it. I want to repeat it, again and again.”
Her head shot up, her eyes flashing. “Dream on.”
He smiled, which seemed to enrage her further. Her nostrils flared. “Oh, I do. Every night.” He leant his chin on an upturned hand, gazing into space just beyond her head. “Night after night.”
He saw her uneasy movement out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve thought of buying some black satin sheets—”
“Stop it!” The words exploded from her, drawing looks from other diners.
The arrival of their meal couldn’t have been timed better. Shal held his breath, half expecting Jodie to deposit hers over his head when the waiter left. The stony silence between them continued. The scrape of utensils against plates was the only sound from their table.
“What did this bloke do to you, anyway?” Shal couldn’t control the belligerence in his voice. He bit into a piece of succulent steak to stop him saying more.
Jodie’s stare was blank, until enlightenment dawned and she muttered. “None of your business.”
“For God’s sake, of course it’s my business.” He threw down his knife and fork and leaned forward. “You’re tarring me with the same brush, Jodie. That’s not fair. I am not him.”
A swift shadow crossed her face, and was gone. He pressed on. “Tell me what happened, what he did. I can’t play this out if I have no idea what I’m up against. My promise never to hurt you doesn’t seem to be enough.”
The silence grew along with Shal’s frustration. Jodie didn’t speak, just kept methodically eating. His eyes followed her fork as she picked up each mouthful, waiting, hoping she would open up and share the painful memories.
After many minutes, she spoke, her voice devoid of emotion. “He betrayed me.”
Elated she’d answered, albeit
briefly, Shal tried to keep his voice even. “I will never betray you,” he pledged. “You’re the only woman I want.”
Her eyes had a burning, faraway look in them. Although she stared across at him, he knew she wasn’t seeing him. “He abused everything I care about. Laughed and denigrated it.”
Shal’s mind whirled. She wasn’t talking about another woman.
“At the Sanctuary I grew to detest him and everything he stood for.” She spat the words out.
Leaning across the small table, Shal grasped the hands clutching the dinner utensils. His words were soft, but firm, as he looked into her eyes. “At the Sanctuary...I grew to love you.”
“No,” she gasped, jerking her hands away. “You mustn’t.” Her eyes looked around frantically. “I don’t want your love.” Her quivering voice firmed as she forced her eyes back to his. “I don’t need your love.”
Shal tasted sourness in his mouth. His resolve stiffened before he could allow disappointment to overcome him. He had expected no less.
Getting Jodie into his arms again—into his life—was going to take time. And infinite patience—a virtue he’d had little knowledge of, but now must cultivate.
“Don’t you see what you want or need isn’t relevant, Jodie?” Shal’s lips twitched in a sad little smile. “My love is mine to give, and I’m giving it to you, freely and without restraint.
“I can’t determine how you accept it, but it’ll be yours until the day I die.” He reached across the table and touched her hand, smiling into her astounded face.
“I don’t yet know how to prove my commitment to you, but I will, because I’m going to marry you, Jodie, and then we’re going to live happily ever after.”
His voice firmed. “Get used to the idea, my darling, because I intend to be very persistent.”
“No...no...” Her plate shot aside so abruptly her utensils fell to the ground. “No, I won’t listen to you.” She jumped to her feet.