by Diana Fraser
“No boy? No man, no woman and no girl. But people can be cruel. In ways big and small.”
There was something in the way he said that which made her wonder if he held more painful secrets locked away in his heart. “I hope no one is ever cruel to you again.”
“People can only hurt you if you let them in close.”
“And you don’t do that.”
“Not usually. But sometimes… it happens.” He brought her hands which still held his, up to his lips and kissed them. “And sometimes, I can’t regret it. If there’s pain to be had with the closeness, then let it happen. Because there’s no going back.”
It didn’t take much for her to lean over and kiss him. Hardly any movement at all. A foot, half a meter maybe, but once that small gap was bridged, she felt as if she’d floated into a different world.
She fell on top of him, her hands framing his face as her mouth explored his. The slide of her tongue against his was the most sensuous thing she’d ever felt. Her whole attention, her whole being was focused on the connection… in that one place.
It was Morgan who pulled away first. Lifted her from him with ease, as if she weighed nothing. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, sliding it down and caressing the only exposed part of her—her neck—before pulling away.
“We’re getting to know each other, remember?” he said with a husky growl. “I promised you no sex. And I want you to trust me. Okay?”
She nodded, her body still reacting to the kiss. He rolled her off and she lay with her back on the blanket, as he looked down at her, the sun behind his head, hiding his expression, but illuminating his golden hair with a halo. She swept her hand up through his hair. “I trust you, cowboy.”
He grinned, a cute lop-sided grin and bent down and brushed her lips with his. “Last kiss.”
“For today.”
He stood up and looked out into the distance. “Time to be getting back.”
Rebecca rose gingerly and winced, looking up at her horse with obvious trepidation.
“You okay getting back on?” Morgan asked.
“I’ll manage.”
But after she got on and her body reminded itself just how uncomfortable she was, she bit her lip and looked at him anxiously. It was enough.
“Okay. You can ride with me and we’ll lead your horse.”
She would have fallen to the ground as she slithered off the horse, if Morgan hadn’t caught her. Once he was back on his own horse he lifted her into his lap and they set off. As the horse fell into a gentle canter, Rebecca leaned against Morgan’s chest, her arms wrapped around him, under his coat, and she thought she’d never been so happy.
CHAPTER SIX
Rebecca looked at her watch impatiently. It wasn’t yet dark but she’d been ready since mid-afternoon. Ready to show Morgan her world at the Observatory.
She’d only seen him once in the past few days. It had been her day at the Information Office and as she’d approached she’d seen his dog first. As always, Annie was trotting, ears and eyes alert, slightly in front of Morgan, as if checking the way was clear for him.
And as Morgan had turned the corner, the change in his expression made her stomach do somersaults of lust. In that moment she knew she was right to have made the radical alterations to her list which included changing “well-educated” to simply “clever” because that was what Morgan was. He was educated in the ways of the world. And it wasn’t even as if she’d had to change some of the items on her list. He was already careful with money. Of course, not having any money made that easier.
They’d only exchanged a few words before she went in to work at the Information Center and he’d turned around and went back to his ute. She knew now that Gemma had been right. Morgan had been making the trip from Glencoe to town on the days she worked just to see her.
And now she was hardly able to wait a few minutes, peeping from behind curtains, turning her music down so she could hear his ute approach. It was totally ridiculous, she told herself as she opened the front door for the third time to see if he was coming. She’d only known him a short time and he was all she could think about.
Then she heard his ute come around the corner accompanied by the familiar excited bark of Annie. Quickly she locked the door and ran down her path just as the ute drew up at the curb. She could feel the dopey grin on her face but she had no way of stopping it as she opened the door and jumped in beside him.
She felt as excited as a kid. And as shy. “Hey.”
“Hey, you,” he smiled. He didn’t attempt to drive off.
“How’s things?”
“Much better now I’m here. Now”—he reached over and she held her breath as his hand brushed her arm as he reached over for the seat belt—“if you put this on, we can go.”
She clicked it into place. “Right. Now, I’ll show you the stars.”
Darkness was only just beginning to fall as they arrived at the top of Mount John where the two familiar big round domes of the Observatory were sited.
“Have you been up here before?”
Morgan turned a full circle taking in the 360 degree view. He shook his head. “No, never. Amazing view.”
Then Rebecca saw them, the tell-tale changes in the sky. She pointed out toward the horizon. “Not as amazing as this. Looks like we’re in for a treat.”
As the violet of the sky above darkened, deep magenta columns of light rose from the pale gold horizon, spreading one minute before narrowing like spotlights, shifting like flames. For all its glory, there for anyone to see, it somehow felt intimate, as if the sky was putting on a show just for them. Rebecca couldn’t have said how long they stood silently watching the aurora australis paint the night sky with its vivid colors, but finally it subsided, settling into a band of bright gold, low on the horizon. And when he reached for her hand it felt completely natural and she curled her fingers into his warm palm until the southern lights had completely faded from the sky.
Neither commented on the lights as they walked toward the Observatory. For once Rebecca was glad Morgan wasn’t talkative because it would only have detracted from the beauty of the moment. Morgan opened the door for her and once they were both inside, and her colleagues greeted her, the moment had passed, the magic had gone.
And, Rebecca thought, as she finished showing Morgan around the Observatory, somehow the excitement she usually felt at looking through the huge telescopes, at describing what the different pieces of equipment did, wasn’t there. It seemed that all the science in the world couldn’t compete with watching the southern lights with Morgan.
Before they left she went into Martin’s office.
“Martin,” Rebecca greeted him. “Do you remember Morgan? You met him at Violet’s christening.” She turned to Morgan. “Martin’s only been working here a few months.”
Martin stood up with a warm smile and extended his hand to Morgan. “How could I forget Morgan? Apart from anything else he’s the man who’s put a smile on Rebecca’s face.”
Morgan frowned slightly and shook the extended hand. “Seems to me she pretty much has a smile most of the time.” He glanced at Rebecca and she could tell he was concerned that she’d be embarrassed.
“What can I say? I’m a happy girl.”
Martin grinned at Rebecca. “Course you are. Anyway, Morgan, come over here and I’ll show you what I’ve been looking at.” Morgan sat in the seat and Martin adjusted the eyepiece. “Comfortable?”
“Sure.”
“What can you see?”
“I can see it’s Maori New Year.”
“New Year? But it’s June,” said Rebecca.
“When it’s Maori New Year, you can see the Great Waka of Tama-rereti in the south.”
Martin laughed. “I read up on this for an undergrad paper. The waka is the southern Milky Way.” Morgan pulled away from the telescope but Martin didn’t move his hand from the back of Morgan’s chair.
“Yeah,” said Morgan. “And my step-dad told me
it contained all of the important stars to navigate by.” Morgan paused. “It was the only useful thing he ever told me. Helped me find my way through dense bush as a young ’un.”
“I’ve never found stars useful in a practical sense.” Martin smiled.
Morgan gave him a sideways glance. “They’re not just useful for navigation. But for animals too. The cattle start getting restless around this time of year. Getting ready for spring and mating.”
Martin spluttered out a laugh. “I guess they do.” His eyes roamed up and down Morgan’s length. “And I guess they’re not the only ones.” He put his hand on Morgan’s arm and Morgan froze, his frown descending once more.
Morgan turned to Rebecca who was checking the telescope’s settings. “What else is there to see?”
Startled, Rebecca looked up and wondered why Morgan suddenly appeared uncomfortable. “Well, there’s my office and the research I’m doing.”
Rebecca introduced Morgan to the others as they passed by, and gave him the run down on some of the projects and some of the history of the observatory. She was talking by rote. She could have given him the spiel in her sleep. It wasn’t until they’d entered her office and she’d closed the door that she turned to him.
“What was that all about? Didn’t you like looking at the telescopes? What about Hercules, the spectrograph?”
“Of course I did. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“People usually want to stay there and watch as the universe swings overhead. It’s truly beautiful.”
“I believe you,” he said. He filled the small office. He walked over to the window where the blinds were open. “The stars look pretty good from up here too.”
She turned away, and riffled through some papers, trying to hide her confusion. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d find it interesting.”
She felt his hands on her arms. “Of course I do. Even if it wasn’t your passion, I’d find it interesting. It’s part of my life too, you know. Some of those long nights in the bush, when I needed to be away from my stepfather, I’d have been lost without the stars to guide me.”
She turned in his arms, not understanding. “Then why did you want to leave Martin so abruptly. Is it because he and I are friends? You think we’re in a relationship?”
His lips quirked. “No, Rebecca, that’s not what I think.”
“I mean, we do have some history.”
“Really?”
“There’s no need to sound surprised. Some men are interested in me, you know.”
“I doubt Martin is.”
“And why do you doubt that? Do you think that someone like Martin, good looking, clever, good conversationalist, fun and…” she really couldn’t think of anything more to add. “Do you really think someone like him is out of my reach?”
“Frankly, yes.”
She pushed away his arms, hurt by his admission that she’d been aiming to high with her pursuit of Martin. “You really have a low opinion of me, don’t you.”
He laughed and she swung around, angry now.
“You think I’m so unattractive that someone like Martin won’t want to go out with me.”
His laughter stopped as suddenly as it started. “You really want to go out with that guy?”
Rebecca half-turned, shrugged and felt her lips turning into an unused position, a pout. “Maybe. We’ve been out a few times and he, well he’s, you know, suitable.”
“Ah,” sighed Morgan, folding his arms as he leaned back against the window. “You’re talking about that damned list of yours, aren’t you? Don’t tell me, this Martin ticks all the boxes, doesn’t he?”
“Well, kind of.” Now probably wasn’t the right time to inform Morgan that she’d changed a few of them since she’d told him about them.
“And tell me, does Martin know all about your plan?”
“No, of course not. We just kind of hung out together. And…” she shrugged.
“And you waited for him to take it to a different level.”
“Maybe.” She looked up at him shyly.
“Darling…” To her surprise, he sighed and brought her into his arms, and lifted her chin to face him. “It was never going to happen. Sometimes you have to forget the boxes, the ticks, the science behind it all. What did you feel when you were with him?”
It was hard to think at all when she was in Morgan’s arms. All her senses focused on the sensations his hands created as they ranged over her back, warming it and sending delicious shivers running through her body. She swallowed and shook her head, unable to think of a single thing. “I don’t know.”
“It wasn’t memorable, then?”
Her breathing was coming too rapid, ratcheting up with each sweep of his hands on her back… and lower. “I guess not.”
“He didn’t touch you like I’m touching you?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but it was too dry. Nothing came out. She shook her head.
“Any idea why not?”
She frowned, not understanding his question immediately. “I don’t know. I guess he didn’t like me enough.”
“Rebecca.” He brushed his finger over her mouth and she opened it, as she tried to press her lips against his finger. But he’d gone before she could. She looked up into his eyes that were dark with desire. “You are adorable.” She caught her breath. “How can you be so clever, so knowledgeable about so much, and yet so innocent? Martin was never going to like you enough. You’re the wrong sex.”
She felt her eyes open wide. “What?”
“He likes men. That much is obvious.”
“How? How… how do you know that?”
“For one thing, if he spent time with you and didn’t make a pass, there must be something strange going on. There’s no heterosexual man on earth who wouldn’t want you.”
“You’re wrong. There are plenty.”
“And for another, I know when a man comes on to me.”
“You do? How? Has it happened before?”
“When I was a teenager trying to hold down a man’s job. When I was young and vulnerable.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I sorted it. These weren’t people like Martin. These were men working in a lawless place, used to getting what they want. They soon realized I could defend myself. And then I grew a little more and made my preferences clear. I reckon Martin thought he was being subtle.”
Rebecca sat down quickly in her office chair. “Oh my God! I’ve been so stupid.”
He leaned back against the window once more. “Not stupid. Perhaps just overestimated your scientific approach to matchmaking.”
“This is so embarrassing. Do you think Martin realized?”
“I doubt it. He probably thought you understood.”
She put her hand in her hands. “I still feel stupid.”
He walked across the room and looked out the window. “Why don’t we go outside? Look at the stars the old-fashioned way?”
“Sure,” she said miserably. “I’ll get my coat and hat.”
He opened the door and she stepped out onto the narrow walkway that circled around the observatory. She shivered and lifted up her collar. It was freezing but the stars in the sky shone like diamonds.
He put his arms around her and she snuggled into them. She still felt stupid. But now she felt warm and stupid. As his hands around her tightened and he pulled her close, she forgot to feel stupid.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to show you around. Show what my work was all about.”
“I doubt I’d have understood it, anyway.”
She grunted. “You understand things a lot better than me.”
“Maybe I just understand them in a different way.”
She sighed and surrendered herself to the pleasure of being engulfed by him—his coat wrapped around her and his arms holding her close.
“I never thought there might be more than one way to understand something. I thought you read about it, thought about it, conducted experiments to see if
one’s hypothesis was correct, discussed results with colleagues, correlated other people’s hypotheses until you came to a result.”
She felt the rumble of his laugh against her back. Then she felt the touch of his lips on her hair and she closed her eyes and sighed.
“There are other ways of doing the same thing. When I was a kid I watched what was going on. When I spent the night out in the bush I’d watch the stars, how they’d move, which were the brightest. I listened to other bushmen, I read what I could. I figured out which ones would help me find my way home. Same kind of deal as yours, except fewer books and no computers involved.” He paused. “And I reckon you get to know a few things which aren’t in books.”
“Such as?”
“Some people reckon you can see your future in the stars.”
She snorted. “That’s nonsense.”
“I don’t know. I keep an open mind. Not that I want to know my future.”
She twisted and looked up at his face, illuminated by only the stars. “You don’t?”
He glanced down at her. “No. I might not like it.”
She turned back. “Um. Maybe I should try looking for my future in the stars. Seems I’m making a mess of it the conventional way—with lists, with plans, with goals and objectives. If I can’t see what’s before my eyes—couldn’t tell that Martin wasn’t the man for me—what hope do I have of sorting out my own future?”
“Let me help.” He looked up into the stars. “I reckon you want a regular, predictable kind of life.”
“And you can tell that by?”
He pointed out one set of stars. “See Venus over there? She’s you. Maori call her Meremere-tu-ahiahi because she stands out on the western horizon after the sun sets, bright and beautiful.”
She laughed, incredulous. “Is that how you see me? Bright and beautiful?”
“Of course. There’s no other way.”
There was something glorious about a man who saw her like that, when she saw herself so differently.
“Always there in the early evening, always there in the morning,” he continued. “That’s how you’d like to be. Nice and predictable and orderly. No shooting stars, or seasonal changes for you.”