by Kris Pearson
No—that was the ‘thunk’ of the door closing as he stowed the chilly-bin. No again—that was the driver’s door slamming shut. The engine firing... and Alex driving away fast. It sounded as though he couldn’t wait to leave her. Finally her tears welled over and spilled down her face. She wiped at them again and again, cursing under her breath at her weakness.
Everyone left her.
Her beloved Daddy had left, all those years ago.
Only months after that, her mother had left to follow her new husband across the world.
Granny and Granddad had left, suddenly, horribly in a car-smash and with no goodbyes.
School-friends and workmates leaving didn’t matter—Kerri was used to that.
Splitting up with boyfriends hadn’t been traumatic.
But now Alex had left. And Alex was somehow incredibly special. Not obtainable. Not available in a million years. But special in a way that no-one had been before.
There’d been that instant connection between them; that easy sassy flirting, and the delicious slowly-building tension.
She’d been starving, and Alex was food and drink and attention all rolled into one tempting package. He’d breathed life into her, and now he was gone.
She stayed leaning against the door, breath misting the glass, while the tears trickled down and dripped off her chin to soak the front of her red top.
Eventually she pulled herself together enough to go and knock on Sarah’s strategically-closed bedroom door.
“Are you awake?”
“If I have to be,” Sarah groaned, switching on her bedside light. “How was it? Not too great, to judge by your faces over dinner?”
“No,” Kerri said, starting to sob again. “That’s the trouble – it was fantastic. Far too good, and now it’s over. One perfect day, and that’s all I get.”
“Oh Kerri-babes,” Sarah said. “At least you had a good time. You don’t look very sunburned though – I expected you’d come back all pink and peeling from the reflection off the water. You forgot your sunhat.”
Kerri nodded miserably and took a deep breath.
“Didn’t need it. It wasn’t a yacht, so there was a cabin for shelter.”
“A cabin—with a bed?” Suddenly Sarah was all ears.
“Nooooooo...” Kerri sniffed back tears and decided Sarah didn’t need to know everything. There were pieces of today she would hug to herself forever. Secrets only she and Alex would ever share. “A cabin like a living room—it was quite a big boat.”
Sarah decided she’d probably learn more by feigning indifference. “As long as you enjoyed it.”
“The best day ever. You can’t imagine...”
“Looks like I’ll have to if you’re not dishing up details. I guess you want to see him again?”
“Not going to happen, Sarah. You heard him say it—he flies to Noumea tomorrow. Then he goes home to France. This was just a business trip to launch the building and do a bit of sightseeing around New Zealand. It’s where his mother was born.”
“He’s half Kiwi? He seemed totally French.”
“He does card-tricks. If you think I’m fast with cards, you should see him in action.”
“What?” Sarah asked, baffled by the swift change of direction.
“It was so lovely,” Kerri said. She sniffed again, and drifted back to the door. “Night Sarah. Thanks for listening.”
If the week before had dragged, the next was intolerable. Kerri moped and dreamed and schemed and sulked, and relived every minute of her day on the boat with Alex, over and over again.
On Thursday morning she sat slumped at her computer in the newsroom, trying to inject life into a piece about a bypass road being urgent and important. Any other time she’d be worrying at it like a terrier, chasing facts and opinions, stirring up interest. Today the assignment had as much appeal as a plate of cold porridge.
Suddenly the phone shrilled.
“Kerri Lush.”
“Alexandre.”
His husky accented voice caressed her from thousands of miles away. Kerri felt her heart and lungs stop working.
“Where are you phoning from?” she managed to croak.
“Noumea—where else?”
Where else indeed, she wondered, registering that something was making an effort to start banging about inside her ribs again. God, she was trying so hard to get over him and here he was stirring everything up again.
“I bet it’s warmer in New Caledonia than here.”
“And in return, cherie, I will bet you’re not free this weekend, but I’m asking anyway.”
“Free for what?”
“Free to visit me. I have such a big empty bed in such a big empty room...?”
Whatever was trying to restart itself in her chest suddenly increased its rhythm to double-time. Kerri swallowed and gulped in a deep breath.
“I can make myself free...”
“You have a passport? I’ll arrange the air ticket for you to collect at the airport.”
“Yes to both.”
“Just like that—yes?”
“Yes!”
Suddenly an awful thought hit her, and the chill of trepidation shivered down her spine. Good things like this didn’t happen to her. Was it too good to be true? She drew a brave breath. “Or don’t you really mean it?”
“Of course I mean it, Kerri. Why would you doubt me? I’ll meet you at Tontouta International when you land.”
“What clothes do I bring?”
“Very little, I hope...”
Kerri could picture his wicked grin and dancing eyes. And could suddenly see him sprawled on his huge bed, ready and waiting—all for her.
“Bring one pretty dress and some beach clothes,” he added. “The flights are not direct from Wellington. Can you get to Auckland in time to fly at 8.20 on Saturday morning?”
“Count on it! There’ll be an overnight bus or train if there’s not a really early flight.”
He hesitated, drew a deep breath, and continued. “Kerri, it was never my plan to do this. I thought it was goodbye on Sunday night. But we have this one last chance. It would be so good to see you again.”
Did she hear anything more than hopeful flirtation in his voice? Probably not, she decided with resignation. He was just a man feeling lonely a long way from home.
“I’ll look forward to seeing you,” she whispered, conscious that Sarah’s eyes were wide and enquiring, not too far away.
“I’ll email the flight details, yes? I have your business card.”
“Yes. See you Saturday, Alex.”
“Au revoir until then, Miss Hiccups.”
“What!?”
“That’s what I named you before I knew you were Ms Kerrigan Lush, ace reporter.”
“Not much of an ‘ace’ today. I’m not thinking straight, and I’ll be even worse now.”
“Until Saturday then?”
“Until Saturday, Alex.”
She replaced the handset with deliberate care and stared at it, seeing nothing.
“So...?” Sarah asked, close beside her.
Kerri turned and drew a deep breath.
“So—yes, it was Alex.”
“And...?”
“And he’s flying me to New Caledonia for the weekend!” she said in a small thrilled voice that only Sarah would hear. “To a lovely hotel and beautiful beaches. What am I going to wear?”
“For a couple of days? You won’t need much.”
“He said to bring a pretty dress. To go out to dinner I guess. Or maybe to a casino for the evening?”
“Fat chance of a casino with Alex...”
“True. What a waste. I’ve heard the casinos are lovely there. Small and classy.”
“That’s the last thing you need right now. You still owe me plenty from the races on Saturday.”
“God!” Kerri exclaimed, clutching her breasts. “I’ve been so stroppy this week, and my boobs are huge. My damn period must be nearly due—I hope it holds off.”
“You’ve been stroppy ever since Alex left. I think that’s why you’re on edge.”
Kerri rolled her eyes.
“Maybe,” she said.
“Definitely.”
She sat there plotting for a while, pretending to fiddle with the bypass story. She needed money. Money for a new dress. Money to pay Sarah back. Money to get to Auckland, even if Alex was nice enough to refund that. And money to spend in Noumea, for surely there’d be all sorts of temptations in the French boutiques?
Maybe she should extend her credit card limit by another thousand? They’d sent her a leaflet only a few weeks ago, along with her horrible account. And they seemed to be offering more credit instantly if she wanted it. Well, right now, she wanted it. She dug the card out of her wallet and got on line to see if she could arrange it.
“Yours,” she said, slipping Sarah a handful of banknotes when she returned after lunch. “There’s the race money back. Thanks for the loan.”
Sarah’s pretty mouth dropped open, and she sent Kerri a look of absolute surprise. “That was fast. Great. But how about you take it to Noumea and buy me some duty-free perfume?”
“No probs. Write down what you want because my brain’s so all over the place now. And...” she added, producing a gold-and-silver-striped boutique bag from behind her back, “I got the dress.”
Reverently she drew it out—a red and black tiger-striped chiffon mini-dress with spaghetti straps and a softly flared skirt.
“It looks great on,” she assured Sarah. “The shaping is amazing. This bit,” she said, tweaking a curved band, “sort of holds the whole thing together.”
“There’s not much of it to hold together.”
“There’s enough—and it does fantastic things for my body. Alex is not going to be looking anywhere else.”
Sarah turned the swing-tag and registered the price.
“Four hundred and fifty! Kerri, that’s outrageous for something the size of a handkerchief.”
“But it’s beautiful,” she insisted. “And it goes perfectly with my new red shoes.”
“So I suppose your Visa is maxed out again?”
“No, there’s almost four hundred dollars credit left on it,” Kerri said, assuming an air of hurt dignity, and omitting to mention she’d just whacked the limit up by another thousand. “I paid a chunk off last week, remember. Have some faith in me, Sarah.”
Sarah flapped a hand to indicate vague apology.
“Yeah, gorgeous dress,” she agreed. “You’ll knock him dead.”
On Saturday morning the airliner ploughed ever onwards over water that sparkled green and blue—and deeper blue where the shadows of clouds moved across the surface of the ocean. Kerri yawned for the umpteenth time and peered out her window for the first sight of land.
The book she’d bought at the airport was nowhere near as exciting as the back cover blurb promised.
The man she was sitting next to had shuffled through paperwork for half an hour and then gone to sleep. Now he was snoring. Gusts of warm nasty air keep wafting over her.
Her jeans cut in around the waist, her eyes felt dry and gritty from the plane’s endlessly circulating air, and she still fumed because the check-in clerk had insisted her hand luggage was over regulation size for the cabin lockers. Waiting around for it when they landed would waste precious time she’d planned to spend with Alex.
Therefore she could have bought a bigger case with more clothes to look nicer for him. Her fantastic new dress would get crushed because her soft bag would no doubt end up squashed under heaps of others...
She wriggled in her seat. The dark thoughts swirled around and around, and she clenched her teeth together in annoyance.
Deciding there was nothing to lose, she gave the man in the next seat a firm shove with her elbow. He half-woke, grunted, and his head lolled over to the other side. Well, that was better, anyway. No more stinky snores in her direction.
She cradled a hand around one of her breasts. Yes, sore, hot and heavy. Her period wasn’t quite due yet, but she just bet it would turn up early and spoil everything.
The plane began its long slow descent. Finally there was a glimpse of land after all the endless miles of ocean, and passengers began to shuffle belongings together and retrieve things from the overhead lockers.
Kerri didn’t bother. She couldn’t reach the lockers without disturbing the snorer. Even then it was a stretch. Once they landed she asked him to grab her briefcase and jacket.
Her spirits rose as they deplaned, and she breathed the scents in—aviation fuel and dusty earth and sweet strange fruits. New Caledonia smelled foreign and exciting.
She’d been to Australia a couple of times, but never this far away from home. Here the earth was richly red, and the plants on the airport’s edge looked exotic, spiky and different. She could hear French being spoken, but passengers conversed in all sorts of other languages too as they made their way through into Tontouta International’s terminal.
A huge Air France jumbo squatted nearby, dwarfing their plane. She supposed Alex would be flying home Air France. Her heart turned cartwheels at the thought that he must be only a few yards away now. How much longer before she could wrap her arms around him and kiss his sexy mouth?
Quite a while, as it turned out. While other passengers forged ahead dragging enormous suitcases, Kerri cooled her very high heels and waited, and waited some more. She was just about at the point of resigning herself to surviving on the contents of her briefcase when her bag finally appeared.
She joined the immigration queue and stood and shuffled and stood and shuffled, and reared away as a huge German Shepherd sniffed her bag.
At last her turn came to approach the stern-looking official. He peered down his nose at her documentation, and gimlet eyes compared her with her passport photo.
“Journaliste?”
“Yes. Oui.”
“Who do you represent?”
“No-one. I don’t represent anyone.”
“Freelance?” he barked, eyes narrow.
She shook her head. She really didn’t need this.
“What are you here to write?”
“Nothing. I’m here on holiday. For un weekend de debauche” she unwisely added. She’d looked up the wording for ‘dirty weekend’ to give Alex a laugh.
This man didn’t laugh. He gave her a supercilious glare and banged his stamp down so hard that Kerri jumped.
“Bienvenue a Nouvelle-Caledonie,” he grated, thrusting her passport out towards her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Was she never going to appear? Alex moved his weight from one foot to the other, paced yet again across the big space and back again, checked his watch, jingled the car-keys in his pocket. Finally he saw Kerri limp through into the passenger arrivals area looking droopy and defeated. His eyes locked on her mouth—sulky and sexy and so kissable.
His spirits soared as he strode forward. How had someone so small affected him so strongly? He’d been on tenterhooks ever since he’d abandoned his good intentions and phoned her, wondering if she’d still attract him as strongly. Hell yes—and the yearning spread through his body like wildfire within seconds of sighting her. Every cell and fiber and molecule of him hummed with satisfaction and fierce desire.
“Bonjour cherie,” he said, taking her bag and placing it on the floor. Then he wrapped his arms around her, and hauled her close.
“Ow!” she yelped as her breasts squished painfully against his hard chest.
He moderated his grip and looked down in concern.
“Too tight,” Kerri said, glancing south to indicate where the problem lay, and raising her expressive brown eyes to his again. “Sorry.”
A wave of protectiveness washed over him and he dropped a kiss of apology onto her brow.
“I can’t wait to kiss them better,” he teased. “So I need to be gentle with my fierce little tiger? Treat her with special care...”
He kept her close with one arm around her
waist, and moved his other hand to caress the breast that was out of sight from the few remaining passengers and greeters.
“Like that, hmmm?”
He ran his thumb gently to and fro, feeling her nipple hardening under his caress, and her heart beating a rapid fluttering rhythm. His own heart swelled with the evidence of her easy arousal, and he inhaled her sweet familiar scent as his brain flooded with erotic memories.
“It’s so good to see you, Kerri,” he growled, kissing her first on one cheek, then on the other, and finally brushing his lips over hers until she groaned at his restraint, and he marveled he had any left at all. “More?” he suggested against her mouth, desperate to kiss her properly now she was in his arms again.
“Much more!” she begged, parting her lips and seeking his tongue with her own.
She pressed herself against him from the knees up, nestling in close, tender breasts apparently forgotten as she responded to his barely decent embrace. God, her curvy body felt like paradise against him. She’d made him hard in seconds.
“Kerri—stop,” he finally said, voice husky, blue jeans straining. “We still have the magic, for sure. But we don’t need to make things look this hot for the security cameras.”
“It’s okay Alex—I told them I was in New Caledonia for un week-end de debauche.”
A big laugh joyful ripped up from some rarely used place deep inside, and he shook his head at her insouciance.
“I’m here on a serious sales trip, cherie. Hoping to interest medical people in some of the products that my company develops and manufactures. What if my business contacts hear that?”
She shrugged and grinned.
“Sorry,” she said, with no repentance at all on her cheeky face. “But the immigration man was being a real pain and I haven’t had any proper sleep for hours, and he just deserved taking down a peg or two.”
“Ah Kerri, it’s a good thing your pronunciation is so execrable; with any luck you were not understood.”
“Well he banged his stamp down very hard after I said it, so maybe he did understand, and was jealous.”
Alex chuckled, picked up her bag, and started to steer her towards the exit with his other arm.