“What does he do?” Freya put down the file.
“Just holds his hands over Josh’s body. Actually he’s in there now.” She rose from the seat and beckoned Freya toward the ward.
Freya followed her, curious about the stranger who might have had a hand in helping her patient to improve. They stopped at the entrance to the ward, and she looked over at Josh’s bed.
Josh was asleep, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling evenly. Usually, his skin was almost a transparent white, the blue veins noticeable on his eyelids, but that day Freya could see a healthy flush in his cheeks, and for the first time in ages he slept peacefully, without the twitches and jumps in his muscles that denoted the pain he often felt.
But it was the man standing next to the bed who drew her attention, and Freya stared at him, her heart banging frantically against her ribs.
Nate’s eyes were closed, his hands held out, palms down, over Josh’s chest. He wasn’t moving, just standing there breathing slowly, his head slightly bowed. Outside the window above Josh’s bed, the rain had stopped and the sun had come out, and thick yellow rays slanted across the room, casting the man who stood there in golden light.
Vividly, Freya remembered the way he’d cupped her face on the evening he’d kissed her outside her house, and the way his palms had grown warm on her cheeks. He’d been trying to comfort her. To heal her. And it had worked, temporarily at least.
What was he doing here? Then of course, she remembered that she’d told him about Josh when she was at his flat.
She recalled Grace’s words, back in the bar. I suspect Nate has hidden talents only Ash knows about. Grace had obviously been spot on.
Katherine leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. “Yummy, eh? He can lay his hands on me any time.”
Freya blushed, but said nothing. Not noticing, Katherine walked back to the nurses’ station, but Freya lingered for a moment, watching him. She glanced at the woman sitting next to Josh’s bed—his mother, Amy, who watched Nate too, head propped on a hand. At that moment, Amy looked over, and she smiled as she saw Freya watching. She stood quietly and came over to the ward entrance.
“Hey,” Freya whispered, not wanting to disturb Nate.
“Hey.”
“How’s it going?”
“Good.” The two women watched Nate for a moment.
“Do you think it’s actually him that’s making Josh better?” Freya asked.
Amy shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know. Before all this, I would never have said I believed in spiritual healing. But watching you girls tend to Josh, I’ve seen how much he reacts to your kindness. And Nate’s gentle and calm—he heals me, too when I talk to him. It’s not all about the drugs. I’m not discounting anything, if it makes Josh feel better.”
Freya nodded. She studied Nate, watching as the sun brightened outside, highlighting his dark hair with gold, seemingly making him glow. All nonsense, of course, but still…
All of a sudden, he opened his eyes and looked right at her.
Freya’s breath caught in her throat. She felt as if she’d caught him doing something intimate and private, and heat rose in her cheeks again. She was aware of Amy turning to look at her, puzzled at their exchange, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He looked wary, and she realised instantly that he hadn’t wanted her to know what he did. He’d come here when she was off duty, thinking he wouldn’t bump into her. He lowered his hands slowly, but he didn’t move toward her.
Turning, she ignored Amy’s outstretched hand and walked off along the corridor.
“Come on,” said Mia the next morning when Freya emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her hair as she went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. “It’s the wine festival today. Have you forgotten?”
“I’m not coming,” said Freya. “I’ve got an essay to finish.”
“You’re totally coming. Somebody will be very disappointed if you’re not there.” Mia smiled at her smugly.
Freya poured herself a glass of orange juice. She’d half expected Nate to come around or phone her after she saw him at the hospital, but he hadn’t. He wouldn’t want to discuss it, she knew instinctively. “I don’t want to go, Mia. I’m not in the mood. I’ll just depress everyone, and I’m the last person Nate Taylor will want to see.”
“Rubbish. He’s playing in one of the bands there this afternoon. He’ll be glad of your support, if nothing else.”
Freya walked over to the window and looked out. Although it had been raining again in the night, it had finally stopped. The sun was out, and steam arose from the damp roads. She remembered the way the sun’s rays had highlighted Nate’s hair in the hospital, casting him in a golden glow. “It’s going to be hot,” she said distractedly.
Mia came over and gave her a hug. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you about him. I won’t say anything again, I promise.”
Freya’s throat tightened. She hadn’t told anyone about seeing him at the hospital, and she wasn’t going to either. “It was just a one-off, Mia. I don’t want to make him regret it, you know?”
“I know.” Mia squeezed her. “Come with us, please. You deserve to have some fun, and it’s going to be a great day. There’s a big party of us meeting up—some friends from work and some people Ash knows, so you won’t have to talk to Nate at all if you don’t want. It won’t be the same without you.”
Freya sighed and smiled at her friend. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try to relax for the day. She didn’t have to talk to him. She didn’t want him to feel as if she were pressuring him into talking about something she knew perfectly well he didn’t want to discuss. He needed space, and time, and privacy, and she wasn’t going to be the person who cornered him like a wild animal that longed to be free.
“Okay.”
“Great.” Mia released her. “Now go and put something sexy on. Just because you’re not going to sleep with him again doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let him know what he’s missing.”
Rolling her eyes, Freya went back to her room. She wasn’t going to choose what to wear with him in mind, she really wasn’t.
But in the end, she went through her wardrobe with playful care, choosing a denim miniskirt and a hot-pink T-shirt with a deep V that showed off her cleavage nicely, especially as it was too hot to wear a bra. She clipped her hair up off her neck and applied a light blue eye shadow that she knew highlighted the difference in her eye colour, with a sparkly pink lip gloss.
“Wow,” said Mia when she came out. “You look all…”
“What?”
“Glowy,” said Mia. “Must be the lip gloss.”
“Yeah.” Freya didn’t add that she knew part of the glow was because she’d be seeing him again. He was a friend, she reminded herself. A friend that she’d had a great time with, and she was looking forward to just saying hi and being in his company again. Nothing more than that.
But who was she kidding? After the hospital visit, she was more intrigued about him than ever. It was going to be difficult to keep away from him. But she was determined to do it.
Mia had already ordered a taxi, and the two girls travelled the short distance to the vineyard on the outskirts of Wellington. The sun beat down, high and hot in the sky, and sweat ran between Freya’s breasts as the taxi pulled up outside the vineyard and she got out of the air-conditioned car into the heavy, humid air.
There were already many cars in the parking lot, and they walked across the field to the track to the vineyard, admiring the vines off to their right. Ahead of them, the vineyard owners had laid out lots of tables and chairs on the grassy area in front of the main building, covering them with several large awnings to protect their customers from the hot sun. Around the edges of the grass were stalls from all the local vineyards displaying a selection from their cellars, as well as food stalls selling everything from hot pork rolls to mussel fritters to fresh fruit salads. At the front, a band played jazz music on the small stage. Freya’s gaze flicked over the pl
ayers, but Nate wasn’t among them.
“There’s Ash,” said Mia, threading her way through the crowd to where the golden-haired Viking had secured a table to one side.
Freya followed her. The table was nearly full, and she saw Grace sitting with Ross of the uncooked banger, and several other people she recognised who worked with Grace and Mia, and other friends of Ash.
Nate sat at one end of the table, leaning back in his chair, long legs stretched out, and she flicked her gaze over him briefly. He wore long black shorts and a sky-blue top that made him look…well, pretty amazing actually, but she tried not to stare and smiled generally at everyone, going around to give Grace and Ash a kiss, and saying hi to the others.
She was aware of Nate watching her as she walked around the table, but she didn’t meet his gaze, concentrating instead on speaking to everyone until she reached where he sat. There she stopped behind him and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Hey you.” She bent forward and kissed his ruffled black hair.
“Hey.” He looked up and gave her a warm smile, and she returned it before continuing to walk around the table to a spare chair at the other end. That’ll do, she thought. She’d seen him, acknowledged him, had made it clear she wasn’t going to mention what she’d seen at the hospital, and she was now letting him know that she didn’t expect anything else from him. Job done.
Chapter Ten
For the next couple of hours, she tried to relax and enjoy herself. It didn’t take long. She suspected Mia had had a word with Ash and Grace about her feeling down, because they made sure her glass was never empty, and after two different Sauvignons, a Pinot Gris and a splendid Chardonnay, she forgot about the horrible phone call and started to enjoy the rather warm, fuzzy feeling that imbued her limbs.
She wandered with Grace and Mia around the food stalls and tried the mussel fritters, the Asian meatballs with chilli sauce and the satay chicken. She accepted the challenge given by a stallholder selling Limoncello liqueur to escape from two pieces of rope linking her hands and Grace’s, and amazed everyone by managing to do it in ten seconds. She joined in with the dancing when the next band started playing seventies and eighties disco songs, and thoroughly enjoyed herself when they set up line dancing to country and western hits. And all the while, she was aware of Nate watching her, although she made sure not to meet his gaze, pretending instead not to notice him there.
Finally, she bought herself a large tub of the chocolate fish “with an adult twist”—saturated with an insane amount of brandy—and sat at the end of the table eating them, sipping her wine, stretching her legs out in the sun and enjoying the chatter of the people around her. Only then did she let her gaze wander over to Nate and linger, listening as he joined in with Ash and a couple of the other guys joking about the labels on the bottles of wine, pretending they could get all the different flavours the labels described.
“Definitely raspberry in that,” said Ash, who was more than merry after several glasses of the pinot noir.
“It’s supposed to have a ‘farmyard aroma’,” said one of the other men, frowning as he sniffed it cautiously.
Nate sipped it. “Well I’m getting wood, don’t know about you guys.”
They all started laughing, and Freya smiled, looking away. She was pleased to see him enjoying himself. For the first hour or two, he’d been very quiet, with the distinctive frown evident between his eyebrows, and she’d wondered if he’d worried that she was going to tell someone about what she’d seen him do. But as the afternoon wore and it became clear she’d kept the news to herself, gradually his frown had lifted and now he chuckled frequently, his eyes half-lidded, hair ruffled, skin deeply tanned from the hot rays of the sun.
“Oh, that’s me,” he said suddenly as someone called for the next band over the loudspeaker. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck!” everyone called, and he smiled, glancing across the table, his gaze resting on Freya briefly before he turned to walk up to the stage. She watched him leap nimbly up onto the makeshift platform and pick up his guitar, pulling the strap over his head. He walked to the front, lifting the microphone up, and they all cheered as he waved, waiting for the rest of the band to take their places.
They went straight into a song that Freya didn’t know, some slow bluesy number, and she leaned her head on her hand as his deep, mellow voice rolled over her. He was so sexy. The blue shirt really suited him, and the curling tattoo that wound around his left arm gave him an edge that made her shiver. In spite of the fact that he’d relaxed a little, he was still dark and brooding, a regular Heathcliff, and she melted as he held a long note that sent tiny electric shocks right up her spine.
A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Kyle, an Aussie teacher from Grace and Mia’s school, standing in front of her, smiling. “Wanna dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.
Freya hesitated. He’d talked to her several times that afternoon, clearly interested in her, and she hadn’t rebutted his attention, ashamed that she wanted to prove to Nate that other men found her attractive. Now she felt a twinge of irritation, wishing she could continue to sit and watch Nate singing. But she was too well brought up to turn down any guy brave enough to ask her to dance, so she smiled and stood, taking his hand and letting him lead her forward to the space in front of the stage, already occupied by a dozen or so couples.
Kyle turned her, keeping hold of her right hand, sliding his other hand around her waist. She smiled up at him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He was pleasant enough, maybe an inch shy of six foot, brown haired and fairly good looking. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked her, raising his voice over the music.
“Yes thanks, I’m having a great time.”
“Great to try all the wines,” he said, pulling her a bit closer, ostensibly so he didn’t have to shout quite so loud, but probably, she thought, so he could slide his hand surreptitiously onto her butt. He carried on talking about something to do with the different Merlots he’d tried, but Freya wasn’t really listening. Her gaze crept up to Nate as they turned slowly to the music, and she wondered whether he’d even noticed her dancing with Kyle.
Oh, he’d noticed, if his hot, amused glare was anything to go by. Still strumming the guitar, he raised an eyebrow at her, glancing down at Kyle’s hand on her backside. Her lips curved, and she looked away, trying not laugh. She was tempted to leave Kyle’s hand there, just to torture Nate, but the Aussie’s hand was beginning to squeeze as well as linger, so she lifted it up to her waist, moving back a few inches from him to make it clear she wasn’t interested in taking it any further.
They danced until the end of the song, and then she excused herself, going back to her seat and pouring another glass of wine. Nate continued with another ballad, glancing over as he sang about a girl who applied her makeup as she brushed her long blonde hair, and her cheeks grew warm. He hadn’t done that, surely. He hadn’t just dedicated a song to her. Flustered, she got up and wandered over to talk to Grace where she was catching up with a few friends, and joined in with the conversation for a while. She noticed when he finished his last song, however, and she clapped with the rest of them as he jumped down from the stage and headed back to the table.
It was late afternoon by now, and the wine had started to have an effect on everyone, with laughter rolling between the tables and more and more people heading for the dance floor. The heavy, humid air caused the occasional bead of sweat to slide between her breasts, and she knew her skin would be flushed from standing out in the sun while waiting at some of the stalls. Stray strands of her hair had fallen from the knot and clung to her damp skin, and the wine made her feel light-headed.
“I’m going to get a bottle of water,” she said to Grace, leaving the girls and walking over to their table. Nate sat at the end, legs stretched out, and she skirted him, intending to get the wallet from her handbag. As she passed him, however, he reached out and grabbed her hand, and before she could protest, or say anything for that matter, he pulled he
r onto his lap, slipped his hand behind her head, and pulled her down for a kiss.
Freya gasped, putting her hands on his shoulders with the intention of pushing him away, but he only tightened his grip around her, taking the opportunity as her mouth opened to slide his tongue against hers. Her heart pounded, her blood fired, and suddenly, instead of resisting, she found herself melting against him.
He threaded his fingers through the loose strands of hair at her neck, and everything fled her mind except the taste of the wine on his tongue and the feel of his hard body beneath her fingertips. She was reminded vividly of him pinning her hands above her head, sliding inside her, and lust shot through her, making her breasts tighten and a dull ache begin between her thighs.
At the same time, somebody behind her cheered, making her sit up hurriedly and push herself away from him. She stumbled, landing heavily in the seat next to him, and Nate burst out laughing. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She reached for his bottle of water and drank from it, daring him to say something, but he just sat and watched her, amused.
“Are you drunk?”
“No.” She shook her head at his raised eyebrow. “No!” She cleared her throat. “Okay, a little bit. But I dare anyone to stay sober at a wine festival like this, on such a beautiful, sunny day.”
“Mm.” He smiled, his eyes warm. He’d kissed her, she told herself, pushing away the worry she felt at speaking to him when she should be ignoring him. He only had himself to blame.
She sighed, sliding down in her seat a little, trying to fight the surge of happiness that flooded through her at the thought of his lips on hers. He bent and picked up her feet, surprising her, and pulled them across his lap. She leaned her head on her hand, watching him as he stroked her calves and drew patterns around her ankles. “Are you feeling better?” she asked, shivering under his tender touch.
Making Sense: Sensual Healing, Book 2 Page 9