To Wear His Ring

by Diana Palmer

  “Have you forgiven your parents?”

  Lucy’s mouth twisted, just for a moment. Her thumb knuckle pressed on her chin. “I don’t suppose it’s easy being a parent.” She smiled sadly. “If I ever get the chance, I’ll know what not to do.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Ethan said, raising his bottle and toasting her. “Here’s to making a better job of it.”

  They clinked bottles.

  “Would you like to see your mother again?”

  Lucy picked at the label of her bottle. “No.” She shook her head. “She made her choice and obviously I didn’t figure.”

  “She was walking from your father, not you.”

  Her smile held a gentle rebuke. “Oh, Ethan. If that were the case she would have kept in touch, like your mother.”

  She inhaled deeply then looked up at him seriously. “But I do regret that I let Dad get away with ignoring me all those years. If I’d tried a bit harder…”

  “Maybe if he’d tried a bit harder,” he told her and there was an edge to his voice. Why should she feel bad about it? It was she who had been treated shabbily.

  Where was this coming from, this protective thing he had going on here? He’d always been a loner, proud of it. Had no problem with the strongest-of-the-pack-survive rule.

  “You have to forgive them, don’t you?” she was saying. “They’re family, and you only get one.”

  He frowned. “I think that’s—generous, considering what your parents did.”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “What’s the point in being bitter?”

  Ethan found that interesting. He would not have described himself as bitter. But it had never occurred to him that his father deserved forgiveness. Hell, if that were the case, what did his poor mother deserve?

  And then the thought popped into his mind that his mother had been perfectly happy, these last ten years. His father had been generous with the settlement and she had a nice spread and seemed happy with Drako, her boy-toy up north.

  “Actually—” she broke into his thoughts, and her tone was much lighter “—if you want to think about it, we’ve got quite a lot in common. My mum married a much older man, then took off with a younger one. Your dad likes younger women. Just think what our combined gene pool would produce.”

  Ethan had already started laughing at her words. But when Lucy realized what she’d said, the look of shock that crossed her face really did him in. That’s when he threw back his head and let rip.

  Her hand was clamped over her mouth again but as he laughed she relaxed. Her elbows rested on the barrel and she leaned on them, shading her eyes.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Ethan chuckled. “Just say exactly what’s on your mind.”

  She shook her head, still hiding her eyes, but she was smiling ruefully. “I can’t believe I said that.” She sighed. “Strike that from the record.”

  He cleared his throat, still grinning. It felt good—great. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a good laugh with a woman. Man, she was cute.

  “I’m sorry. Tom’s always saying I need to engage brain before mouth.”

  Their smiles faded. Tom seemed to have that effect. “You’re very loyal,” Ethan said quietly, and watched a mini slide-show of expression on her face. From humor to caution in one second. She would be hopeless at poker. “Your brother doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

  Lucy pursed her lips. “And have you succeeded? With your success plan?”

  He decided to let her get away with changing the subject. He was having a good time. Why waste it on Tom McKinlay? “Nearly,” he answered. “A couple of things on the list still to be ticked off.”

  “Don’t stop now,” she encouraged him.

  “Kissing you again is right at the top,” he murmured, holding her gaze.

  He heard the little catch in her throat. She glanced at him then away. And he was amused to see she focused on the couple swallowing tongues for quite awhile this time. Only that’s not all they were doing. The boy’s knee was right between the girl’s legs now and there was some pretty suggestive rubbing going on. Lucy was blushing prettily when she eventually turned back to him.

  “But I think you know that,” he continued in the same teasing tone.

  “Oh,” was all she had to say, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  The air seemed to crackle in his ears. He could not recall ever being so aware of a woman. This whole night had been one long exercise in self-restraint. Not just his sexual self-restraint, although that was compelling after being pressed up against her for the duration of a rugby game. But keeping it loose had not been easy when he knew she was lying about the slob who’d shoved her. And it would take some time to forget the shame burning in her eyes when faced with completing a simple form. Lucy McKinlay touched him in ways he had not expected.

  She had stopped ravaging the bottle label. It blew in long strips around the rim of their barrel. Instead, the bottle’s neck was being strangled in a white-knuckled fist. Finally she put it down between them with a sharp rap and frowned.

  “Ethan, you’re a client. I have to keep things on a professional level.”

  Ethan snorted. “Hardly a doctor-patient relationship.”

  She looked heavenward but did raise a smile. “I’m not saying I’m not tempted, but…I’m trying really hard…”

  He waited.

  She sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable. “Just—nothing’s going to happen between us. Not while you’re a guest at Summerhill.”

  He squinted at her. “I move out of Summerhill and into a hotel, you’ll go out with me?”

  A resigned laugh bubbled up in her throat. “No! Not while Magnus and Juliette are here. Maybe not ever.”

  He shook his head. “Not ever’s a long time, Lucy.”

  “I’ve known you two days,” she pointed out reasonably.

  “Yeah.” Ethan nodded. “Surprised me, too.” He stroked his chin and saw that her eyes followed the movement. “I don’t take enough holidays.”

  “All business?” Her tone was gentle but it sounded like a taunt.

  “You’re the one trying to be professional.”

  She broke eye contact and rubbed her forehead. He swore any professional thoughts were blasted away when she copped an eyeful of the young lovers. The girl was practically riding the guy’s leg—her feet were all but off the ground. They both watched shamelessly. When Lucy finally dragged her eyes back to his, he met and held her gaze for long seconds. Brazen images—bare skin, mouths seeking, frantic touching—danced behind his eyes and were mirrored in hers.

  She swept up the fallen strips of label distractedly and stuffed them down the throat of her empty bottle. “Will you be here when Juliette and I get back?”

  He raised his brows.

  “From Queenstown,” she explained. “We’ll probably be back Wednesday.”

  “I’m trying to set up a meeting in Sydney for the end of the week.”

  Ethan fancied she looked a little downcast. Something compelled him to start negotiating. “Even if I do have to go before you get back, they’re only meetings. And meetings don’t take forever.”

  “And the flight’s only a few hours,” she encouraged him.

  “Exactly.” Ethan leaned forward and rested his elbow on the barrel. “You might think,” he said slowly, “that takes the pressure off.”

  Lucy nodded, looking relieved.

  Until he reached for her hand and sandwiched it between both of his. Her eyes flew wide and he stroked firmly over the base of her thumb to confirm the scramble of her pulse.

  The girl with her boyfriend’s knee wedged between her thighs gave a low breathless moan. It hung between them, and they stared at each other, connected by the lingering memory of the moan and the thumping of her pulse under his thumb.

  “However,” he murmured, “I don’t think you should be too complacent.”

  Tom picked her up early the next day in one of the lodge’s vehicles, anx
ious to be on the road. It was safari day for the hunters, and the day Lucy and Juliette were to leave for Queenstown. On the way to the Australians’ hotel, she advised Tom to report the stolen car, regardless of the registration issue. He seemed vague about Joseph Dunn, which perplexed her. “Whatever.” She shrugged. “Probably just kids. It just seemed strange he actually mentioned seeing your car.”

  They arrived back at Summerhill and organized their day. The four hunters, Tom, Stacey the tracker, Magnus and an Indonesian guest, departed. Lucy and Juliette packed and she arranged for Ellie to drop them at the airstrip. Summerhill had its own airstrip. A good proportion of the guests chartered light aircraft for hunting or excursions. The women would first be flown to Aorangi, Australasia’s highest mountain, and then to Queenstown, a popular tourist mecca in the south.

  Lucy had put her luggage in the car boot and was walking down the hallway when a hand snaked out of the alcove going into Tom’s office. Suddenly she was hauled up against a wall of warm skin, taut muscle and bone.

  “Not thinking of leaving without saying goodbye?”

  “Ethan!” Her heart thumped against her ribs. For one awful moment, Joseph Dunn’s face had flashed through her mind. “What are you…?”

  “Told you not to be complacent.”

  She relaxed slightly, her eyes adjusting to the gloom with the aid of the gleam of his teeth.

  One slick maneuver and she found herself turned, her back against the wall—or at least the wall-mounted firearms cabinet. His teeth flashed again. “Wow. Nice suit. But I’d love to see you in red.”

  Lucy felt herself flush. As was her way, she was taking her client’s lead. Juliette favored short skirts, in vibrant reds and pinks. Lucy’s choice was a dusky-pink color with a barely-there skirt and high black pumps. The lacy black cami under the jacket touched it off nicely even though she would be no match for the beauty and wealth of Mrs. Anderson.

  “The guys in Queenstown won’t know what hit them when you two roll into town.”

  His hands snaked around her waist, inside the jacket. “Ethan, I thought we agreed last night…”

  “…that we had a mutual attraction.” He leaned back, smiling and swaying her gently.

  “That nothing was going to…” She couldn’t help it, she was smiling back.

  “…happen last night,” he finished.

  She shook her head. “Ha, ha. I have to go. The plane’s waiting.”

  “She can afford a few more minutes.” He leaned in close, eyes slanted down to her mouth. His thighs brushed hers. Lucy’s breath hissed through her lips as warmth flooded her agitated body. When she felt herself about to sag against him, she put a restraining hand on his chest and leaned her head back.

  An unexpected jerk and a sharp click behind her head claimed Ethan’s attention.

  He frowned. “Bit lax isn’t it? The firearms cabinet left unlocked?”

  Lucy was still concentrating on his mouth, centimeters away. “Tom must have forgotten,” she said dreamily.

  The stern, all-business look he gave her snapped her out of her fog.

  “Tom forget often?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  This was bad. This was a serious issue, one that could have their firearms license revoked. New Zealand’s firearms laws were strictly enforced. This could impinge on staying in the club. “I’ll get the key.”

  Ethan fingered the cabinet’s latch. “It’s not good enough, Lucy. Anyone could have access.”

  Lucy did the only possible thing she could think of. She reached up to tangle her fingers in his thick hair and pulled his head down to hers.

  His hair was soft, inviting her to twist and tug gently. She felt his hand, still around her waist, spread and lift and next thing she was on tiptoe, planted against the length of him like ivy. He held back slightly, his brow still furrowed in a frown. His free hand moved up to the back of her head and his fingers mirrored what hers were doing.

  She tugged him closer and he sank into her mouth. Hot and humid, his satiny-slick tongue danced with hers. Lucy wound her hands around his neck and pressed her tingling nipples into him. She fought to breathe; he took all her air and gave it back in miserly doses and she heard his breath rasping through his nostrils.

  His strength surprised her. The tension in his neck, each and every finger spread wide on her back, the muscles in his thighs pressed up against hers—it was all leashed power.

  Her mind shut down. She didn’t care about the key or the cabinet. She didn’t worry that someone would walk down the hallway and see them. Professionalism was as far from her mind as Africa. Her blood was roaring. She wanted him unleashed.

  Lucy moaned, a sound of impatience that sounded like “more.” She caged his face with both hands and kissed as she’d dreamed of doing the last few days, since that first long look. His body was firm all over. In one place, cast iron. But all that flashed in her agitated mind. It was his mouth she wanted, his earthy, erotic flavor that went straight to her head like champagne, sweeping all obstacles aside.

  Ethan pulled away first. That embarrassed her, though it took a moment or two to understand. She looked at his throat, gulping in some much-needed air. When she dredged up the nerve to look at his face, his pale-blue eyes simmered. He carefully exhaled.

  “Oh, boy,” he said softly. “You have my undivided attention.”

  “I’d better go,” she whispered back.

  Ethan took a reluctant step back and she weaved around him and started to walk, hoping her knees would hold her until she got out of his sight. She made it ten feet before her name clipped her to a halt. Turning reluctantly back because she just knew she’d be the color of mortified beetroot, she focused again on the golden skin of his throat.

  “The key?” He jabbed his thumb toward the cabinet.

  Lucy nodded at him stupidly. “Silly me.”

  She walked unsteadily toward him, veered left into Tom’s office and found the key in the top drawer. All the while, his eyes burned into her. He took the key, locked the cabinet then dropped it back into her palm.

  “Key should be locked away also,” he told her gently.

  “Okay.” She proceeded to replace the key right where she’d found it and walked out past him, still with the stupid half smile on her face. “See ya,” she murmured dazedly, and escaped up the stairs.

  Chapter Six

  Lucy happily escaped the crowds at the gondola and chose a much quieter observation point, only a couple of hundred meters from the township. The view might not be as spectacular but pretty landscapes were not lacking in her life. Summerhill was her magic place.

  She fished in her purse for coins to operate the shiny telescope, new since her last visit.

  Bored, bored, bored. Poor Juliette had barely been out of her room since they had arrived, having succumbed to some sort of tummy bug. They’d had such a nice time the first day, flying over Aorangi, then jet-boating on the lake when they got to Queenstown, and a nice dinner last night. Then Juliette canceled breakfast and it all went downhill from there. Her illness set in and Lucy was left to amuse herself.

  A noisy family group ascended the lookout platform and two or three young children scampered about. Lucy panned the township and easily picked out her hotel, the largest in Queenstown and right on the waterfront. Her room on the fourth floor boasted views over the supermarket parking lot. Juliette had the ninth floor Presidential Suite, and a presidential balcony to go with it.

  And there she was! Lucy grinned in childish elation. Juliette stood on her balcony, wearing that robe. The filmy deep purple number Lucy had admired last night. The robe that would look average on anyone else but Juliette with her statuesque figure.

  She was distracted by the determined gaze of the youngest of the family group who fixed her with a come-on-lady! look. When she beaded in on Juliette again, she realized her friend wasn’t alone. It was difficult to discern expression—she fiddled with the focus dial—but Juliette appeared to be shaking
her head and her mouth was open.

  Then a cocoa-dark head moved into view and Lucy’s stomach lurched. His back was turned, but she would know that haughty bearing, those broad shoulders anywhere. He was jacketless and his shirtsleeves were rolled up midway to his elbows.

  Lucy stepped back, her lips moving soundlessly as questions reared up like hands in a classroom.

  “Mum, I want a go!” the small boy yelled. Lucy ignored him and moved forward again.

  Ethan and Juliette. In her suite. Midday in Queenstown, hundreds of kilometers from where he was meant to be. When Juliette was supposed to be ill and had insisted Lucy follow the schedule they had planned.

  With Juliette in that robe.

  Suddenly Juliette swirled around and made for the balcony door. Ethan grabbed her arm, holding her just above the elbow. They stood for some moments like that and again Lucy could not focus quite well enough to say for sure what the woman’s emotions were.

  But one thing was as obvious as a train wreck. These two people had a lot more going on than they had disclosed.

  The little boy sighed loudly. Lucy glanced at him and pulled a scowling face. His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

  Over on the balcony, Juliette had tugged her arm away and disappeared into the suite. Lucy watched Ethan hesitate for a second or two and run his hands through his hair. Then he moved inside with a determined stride, closing the glass door behind him. Lucy squinted but the reflection off the glass prevented her seeing inside the suite.

  Her head lifted above the telescope. She stared out into space, a million questions pelting her, until a polite cough behind her made her turn. “Oh.” She looked at the entire family line-up in a daze. “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right, dear,” the woman said kindly. “Is it a nice view?”

  Lucy stepped off the platform. The impatient child scampered up and took her place, and Lucy just nodded and walked away.

  “Foreigner, I think,” she heard the woman comment.

  As she began the walk down, she attempted to find a plausible explanation. They wouldn’t. They were not cheats. She refused to believe she could be so wrong about people.