“The States,” Jayden replied promptly.
“I like your accent.” She laughed delicately, brushing her hair over one shoulder. “So what brings you to New Zealand?”
“Just a holiday.”
“Having fun so far?” She leaned toward him across the table. Then beep, beep, beep. She glanced down. “Oh, damn, my pager. Excuse me for a second.” She got up and hurried to the phone on the far side of the room.
“She fits some of the criteria so far,” Jay commented, watching Mary. He saw her eyeing him as she was talking into the phone and jotting down notes.
“How do you know when you haven’t met her yet?” Peter asked.
Jayden glanced at his friend, frowning in confusion as he brought the cup of hot coffee to his lips. “Mary?”
“Nope, not Mary—her.” Peter nodded toward the far entrance of the cafeteria.
Jayden glanced in that direction, and his eyes widened in shock. His breath caught at the back of his throat, and he started spluttering—hot liquid burning his tongue.
“Hey, are you all right?”
“Yeah,” Jay muttered, wiping his mouth with the napkin. He glanced up and watched intensely, his frown darkening into a scowl. This female—the girl in the blue coat he had seen in the street—the girl who was walking toward them with a satchel over her shoulder and a cup of tea in one hand—was nothing like what he expected. She didn’t fit the criteria. Period!
She was average height. She wasn’t pretty. In fact, she was plain. Her baggy jersey was an odd, dull-grey color and didn’t exactly enhance her skin tone either. It made her face look pale and ghostly. Her long, dark hair was a mess and hung forward in long bangs that hid her eyes.
As she walked toward them, Jay couldn’t help but stare at her. She looked nervous.
She glanced at them, gave Peter a fleeting smile, and then rushed past them.
“What do you think?” Peter asked.
“Not her.” Jay felt his gut wrenching with dread. “Please tell me it’s not her.”
“It’s her.” Peter chuckled. “Once your family sees her, they will leave you alone.”
“How do you know that for sure?”
“Because they will give up. If you show them she is the type of girl you are in love with—and, mate, I know you are not at the moment—they will give up in the end and leave you alone.” Peter smiled smugly, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned back in his chair.
Mary finished her phone call and joined them.
“You look busy,” Peter said.
“I am,” Mary replied. “Every patient in ED seems to have pneumonia. Then there are those with colds and flu. Can’t they just go to their GP?” She turned to Jayden, who suddenly went very quiet and had a trancelike look on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, I’m fine.”
“Hey, we should go out Saturday night,” Mary suggested, eyeing Jayden. “Dinner, a movie, a quiet drink, and then—”
Jay raised his eyebrows. Peter cleared his throat and nodded. “How about inviting the others along too? It’ll be fun.”
Mary frowned at Peter. He simply shrugged his shoulders and tried on an expression of innocence—which failed.
* * * * *
Chapter 2
DUNEDIN, NEW ZEALAND
Though her eyes were on her book, Alexandra Stewart, known simply as Alex to close friends and relatives, knew Mr. Hot-Choc was still watching her. Perhaps he wanted to sit next to Mary St. Clair, which wouldn’t surprise her at all. Her ex-classmate from high school was popular with everyone. Her catwalk figure, dark-brown curls, and bright-blue eyes stole the tongues right out of the mouths of the boys. You could say she was perfect, almost. If only she didn’t act like such a bitch, thinking everyone was beneath her and that no one else was as deserving of her perfect life.
Alex could never behave like Mary. She would rather hide in a closet or do dishes than flirt with a guy. In her world, she wasn’t pretty enough to have the confidence that seemed to exude from Mary.
And now Mary looked to be hitting on Mr. Hot-Choc. Again, Alex wasn’t surprised. The man was a hunk, tall and trim, blond-haired, and blue-eyed. She was sure she had never seen him around Dunedin. He walked around the long table with that loose-limbed grace usually only seen in big cats. A true-bred alpha male, he had that powerful aura about him that fairly screams, Don’t challenge me or I’ll eat you for breakfast.
Why did he watch her with such intensity? Who was he? Why was he with Peter and Mary? Were they friends?
And why name him Mr. Hot-Choc? Because he was damn hot, and at the moment, she was craving a cup of hot chocolate. Only she couldn’t afford one. Her budget was tight. Every cent went to support the family.
She nibbled her lower lip and tried to concentrate on her novel. Hercules Poirot uncovered the murderer, the motive was laid bare, and all from brilliant deduction of seemingly insignificant facts. She couldn’t figure out how, and now her mind, without warning, flipped to her dad, Jacob Stewart.
How long can he wait for a heart to be available?
His condition was getting worse. He needed a new heart and fast, as Peter, the young cardiologist and longtime family friend, told her. Finding a donor, however, was difficult. There was the option of going to a private hospital. There was no way they could afford that. There were the costs of flights to Auckland, the accommodations, the surgery, and of course, the heart itself. But they were desperate, and her mother, Mali Stewart, had been willing to apply for a personal bank loan just so Dad could get his surgery done more quickly.
Unfortunately, Alex had found out half an hour ago the bank rejected the application. The risk of nonpayment set against her modest income as a lab scientist and the mortgage on the family home was too much. On top of that, she had her student loan and family living costs. Then there was Timothy and Emma, her younger siblings. Tim was just about to finish high school, and a university education was on the horizon. Emma still had a couple years to go.
Alex grinded her teeth. It had been one thing after another. The company Dad had worked for closed the Dunedin factory and moved it overseas, chasing cheap labor in their quest of the almighty dollar. Jacob’s services were no longer required. What a bitter day that was! Dad went into overdrive trying to find another job. The stress led to his sudden massive heart failure six months ago, and it was a miracle he survived.
Alex hoped he had taken out health insurance, but as the ambulance sped him to the hospital, a frantic search of his papers revealed nothing. Too late now, she thought, but her mind wasn’t in the mood for staying on one subject today. She remembered the text message she had received from Peter. She took out her cell phone and read the message again.
Happy Bday, Alex. Bck frm Qtwn. Catch up? Coffee?
I hve a frnd u shuld meet. He can hlp u & yr dad. C ya soon :P
A grin creeped across her face. Peter always remembered her birthday, and his gifts were usually thoughtful. But lately he had been trying to find her a guy, which was annoying. It had started innocently enough with some simple suggestions. That was until last year, when he had arranged a blind date for her. The guy, Andrew something-or-other, seemed pleasant enough to begin with, although the evening was awkward. Then, as the hour grew late, he made a quite inappropriate move on her, and she slapped his face and left. When she told Peter about the incident, he ended his own short friendship with the man. Peter meant well, but she didn’t have the time for a boyfriend.
The light trill of a woman’s laughter drew her attention. Mary was giggling away loudly and enthusiastically, leaning closer to Mr. Hot-Choc. Alex couldn’t help but admire the way he was handling the situation. Mary was an outrageous flirt, confident the men around her would be enchanted, but he seemed unaffected. In fact, it looked as if he were playing the game and playing it well, in full control of the situation.
Suddenly, he caught Alex looking at him. She glanced away, her heart pounding and her cheeks hot and flushed wi
th guilt. She pretended to be interested in her phone, but she felt his amusement from across the room. The urge to be somewhere else, anywhere else, was strong, but not as strong as her curiosity about this extraordinarily handsome man. Then a thought struck her, and she started texting.
Hey, Pete, sorry didn’t join u cos u wth frnds.
Coffee sounds good. Sunday? 2:30? SAN Cafe?
A push of a button and the message was on its way. She looked up and saw Peter checking his cell phone. He turned around to face her with a big grin, waved, and nodded. Mr. Hot-Choc watched her with interest, the gentlest of smiles playing with his lips. She was about to smile back when she noticed Mary’s hateful glare. The message was clear—Piss off! He’s mine! Alex blushed and dived for cover into the musings of the great Monsieur Poirot.
Ten minutes later, she glanced up. Peter, Mr. Hot-Choc, and Mary were heading toward the exit. Well, she should get going too. Back to work for her. She tidied up, wrapped the satchel over her shoulder, and picked up her half-empty cup of cold tea.
She was deep in thought, and her eyes saw only the threadbare carpet as she headed toward the conveyer. She slammed into a body. She was aware of cold tea seeping quickly through her jersey and chilling her skin. She felt strong hands holding her as she tottered. She looked up straight into a guy’s clear-blue eyes as he pulled her upright, almost in an embrace. Warmth and strength seemed to flow from him in an intoxicating mixture.
“Are you all right?” The tone of his voice was low, deep, and rich like the calm of a great sea gently tasting the pebbles on the shore.
She took a deep breath and was overcome with the scent of fresh spices floating on a spring breeze. Snapping back to reality, she stared in disbelief at the cold tea that had somehow transferred itself from her old jersey onto his expensive-looking jacket.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she said, her hands dabbing at his jacket. “I’m sorry.” She glanced up at him.
It’s him! It’s Mr. Hot-Choc!
She spiraled away into the fathomless depths of his cobalt-blue eyes. The color reminded her of those lovely summer days years ago at the farm where she used to work as a fruit picker. The sky was huge, and the air hummed with the busy sounds of insects. Suddenly, she could smell the sweetness of ripe strawberries. She remembered the feel of the long, soft grasses and the cool sprinkling of water against her skin.
The intensity of his gaze disturbed her from her reverie, and she blushed as she lowered her head and said, “I’m sorry. It was my fault. Let me get something to clean it off.” She picked up the empty cup from the floor and put it on the food conveyer belt. Then she grabbed a handful of napkins from a nearby table and started to pat his jacket dry.
“That’s okay.” He took hold of her hands again, softly but with insistence. The contact made her nerves jump, and excitement coursed through her body. It was a touch filled with intimacy and promise.
“It’ll wash out.” He noticed her discomfort and let go of her hands.
“I’m truly sorry,” she said, realizing he had an accent—an American one. “I’m not usually this clumsy.” She glanced up and saw him raise an eyebrow. “There. It’s kind of dry now.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
There it was again, that voice! A delicious shiver tickled its way along her spine. She cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she said, walking over to the bin and tossing the wet napkins in. “You have a good day.” She waved as she turned to the corridor.
He caught her before she had walked more than three steps. “Hey, you work here?”
She nodded. “Yeah, are you lost? Or has Peter deserted you? He sometimes does that.”
“No, he didn’t. I—um—what’s your name? Are you a friend of Peter?”
“Yeah, he’s a friend,” she replied and then hesitated for a moment. “It’s Alexandra, by the way. Look, I have to go back to work. To get out, just go this way and turn right and then down the stairs to the main reception.”
Jay nodded.
“Sorry again about the tea. As I said, I’m not usually this clumsy. Bye now,” she said, and then she was gone.
Jayden’s grin stayed with him all the way to the bottom of the stairs.
Her eyes were such a deep brown, like the color of melted chocolate. And she seemed sweet and delicious too! Something about those eyes drew him in and left him slightly breathless.
Peter was waiting for him by the reception desk.
“What took you so long?”
“I couldn’t find the bathroom after all,” Jay replied.
As they walked through the door of the hospital, Jay thought, So she’s not usually that clumsy, is she?
* * * * *
Alex gasped, her eyes squinting in the sudden darkness. Damn! She’d have to get the torch and replace that light bulb again.
She shook her hands out of the soapy water, wiped them dry with a clean towel, and headed around the benchtop. As she groped her way into the living area, she heard a giggle, which sounded much like Emma. There, floating in the darkness, was a chocolate cake, candlelight flickering across its surface. Her dad was holding it, and her mom, with her arm in his. Her best friend, Ruby Williams-Chan, came into view, removing any doubt over whose idea this was. Nikita Buchannan and Isabella Robertson were there, too. Everyone was wearing big, sloppy birthday smiles.
“Oh my God!” Alex murmured.
Emma giggled again, as though she couldn’t contain herself, and rushed to stand next to her. The strains of “Happy Birthday,” sung in the traditional arrangement of out-of-tune voices, filled the room. A sudden eruption of light revealed Timothy with his hand on the switch. Alex blinked away the afterimage.
Alex laughed. She hadn’t expected this, not after a busy day at work. Usually Saturday was rather quiet, but not this one. It had been hectic, and she was dead tired. She hadn’t expected anything more than a family dinner and then a good night's sleep. This was such a surprise.
She blinked back tears as she tightened her arms around her mom.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Mali said, squeezing her hard. “Now make a wish.”
Alex looked at the people surrounding her. Emma urged her to blow out the candles so she could have some cake.
“You guys didn’t have to do this,” emerged from her suddenly tight throat.
“Don’t be silly. It’s your birthday. We have to do this,” Ruby said, her braced teeth flashing with candle highlights.
“Please, just blow out the candles. We want cake,” Emma said.
“Make a wish, sweetheart,” Jacob said.
Alex looked at her dad, and her eyes flooded with tears. She only had one wish.
Dear Lord, she whispered to herself, I wish Dad would get his heart transplant and that he’d get well. She opened her eyes and moved closer to the flickering candles. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes—an image of Mr. Hot-Choc appeared in her mind. What? She shook her head to clear the image, confused.
“Come on, Alex, blow!” Nikita squealed.
She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and blew. All the candles winked out, followed by the sound of ever-so-slightly sarcastic cheering and clapping.
“So what’d ya wish for?” Tim asked.
Alex looked up at her younger brother. He was gorgeous, with jet-black hair, dark-brown eyes, straight nose, and Hollywood jaw. He’d break lots of hearts.
“Can’t tell,” she replied, hoping her wish would come true. It had to come true.
“So who wants cake?’ Mum asked.
“Me!” That’s Emma—surprise, surprise. “I’ll help you cut.” She’d make sure she got the biggest piece, too.
After the last of the cake crumbs had been licked from the plates, Alex’s friends dragged her into town, claiming she needed to have some fun. Soon she found herself in the Octagon with her friends and, it seemed, half of the student body and a large percentage of the town’s population.
The air was crisp and c
old, and Alex was glad she chose boots, skinny jeans, and a blazer—much like her friends. If she had worn a flimsy dress and four-inch heels like most of the other girls on the crowded streets, she would have simply shivered and collapsed on the spot, quite apart from the fact that she wouldn’t be able to walk in those heels.
“Come on, Alex. You haven’t been in Electrica since Uni,” Isabella said with a pretty pout. “It’s time you had some fun, girl.”
Her friends dragged her across the street where a hundred or so people were stamping the cold away, waiting to get into the bar.
Alex laughed as Nikita filled the air with a youthful, “Yay!” She twirled around with her arms out. Nikita, Nikita! Always so bold and fun with her tomboyish ways.
The street was thronged with young people. A couple of guys were about to start a fight, pushing and shoving each other. Alex ignored a group of men standing nearby. Most were smoking and made no attempt to hide their obvious interest in her and her friends. Three of them were struggling to stay upright.
Half an hour later, they finally reached the door. Alex rubbed her eyes and blinked. That was what glaring down a microscope at red and white blood cells eight hours a day did to you—especially if you wore contacts. She should have put some eye drops in before she left the house, but the girls were in such a rush.
The huge doorman, probably Maori or Pacific Islander, waved Ruby, Nikita, and Isabella straight in. Not Alex. He asked for her ID. She couldn’t believe it. She just turned twenty-two, and the man wanted to see her ID? Did she look that young? It was both flattering and annoying. The doorman glared at her driver’s license for what seemed like a minute, the kind of look that said he knew it was a fake but couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He handed it back to her with narrowed eyes and stepped aside to let her through. Ruby gave her a look, but Alex just shrugged her shoulders as they rushed down the stairs.
Music thumped the walls of the lower ground floor. The place was bathed in darkness, lit by sudden flashes of neon light like lightning on a stormy night. Smoke snaked slowly across the dance floor, coiling around groups of dancers. A group of students squeezed past, bumping their shoulders. Alex glanced around. The people and the smell of sweat, perfume, and alcohol suddenly seemed overwhelming. But there was Nikita, who enthusiastically pulled her into the crowd. Alex didn’t have the heart to tell her friends she wanted to get out of here.
Kiwi Bride: Volume 1 (Kiwi Bride Series Book 3) Page 2