“All right. So what’s Mako mean? Isn’t it a fish?”
“Yeh. It’s a play on his surname, of course, Mahaka. But mako’s Maori for a type of shark. Fastest shark there is. Aggressive, too. Hook a mako, and it can jump straight into your boat and fight you. Hard as hell to bring in, no quit in them at all. And that’s Mako too. Takes two or three blokes to bring him down, and he’ll be fighting all the way to the end, every time. He’s the man you want beside you in the tough spots. He’s a warrior.”
“He didn’t seem like that,” Ally said in alarm. “What Hannah said . . . does he have anger issues? Should I be concerned for Kristen?”
“What I said, that’s just on the paddock,” he assured her. “It’s a rugby nickname, eh. With women . . . nah. No worries.”
“OK,” Ally said dubiously. “I guess you’d know. And your nickname is Toro. For Torrance, I figured that out. But if Mako’s about the shark, Toro probably does have to do with the bull thing, right?”
“So they say.”
Oh-kay. That was all she was going to get out of him. Which made her wonder just what that nickname really was all about. Don’t go there, Ally.
“So what’s Drew’s nickname?” she asked instead, turning her mind hastily from the danger zone. “Everyone seems to just call him ‘Drew.’”
“Well, his name’s Andrew,” Nate pointed out.
“Yes, and your name’s probably Nathan. Why isn’t he . . . Callie, or something? Callo. Drewie.” A laugh escaped her at the idea.
“You’d never call him that,” Nate said immediately. “Specially not Drewie. Geez. I’d like to see somebody try. He’s always just been Drew. Because he’s one of the boys, but he’s . . . not.”
“That thing about him. That stature he’s got.”
“Yeh. His mana. Greatest All Black ever, you’ll hear people say. The best captain, too, and that’s saying something. There’s never been a man on any of his teams who wouldn’t walk through fire for him. Because he’d be walking right in front of them, leading the way.”
“So what’s that like?” she asked impulsively. “Following somebody like that into the captaincy? Trying to become that person for the team? That kind of leader?”
She heard the silence from behind her, and regretted the question. This was clearly sensitive territory.
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“Nah, that’s OK. You’re not the first to ask, believe me. The answer is, I’ve learnt heaps about what it takes, doing all my playing beside him on the ABs. So for that, it’s good. And for the rest . . . I’ll just have to see how I go, hope that I’ve learnt a bit being the Hurricanes skipper.”
Not a very satisfactory answer, but she’d pushed enough, so she closed her mouth on the questions she still wanted to ask, concentrated on the day around her, on keeping her stroke smooth and even through the slight chop.
“And here’s my final conversational topic,” Nate said after a minute. “How’re you going with your own job? Drew said you were working at the gym.”
“Pretty good,” she said with relief. “Nothing too exciting. I’ve done this for a long time, and it isn’t much different in New Zealand.”
“Not too many boofheads rejecting your sound advice?”
“Well, the occasional one,” she admitted. He was sounding so human, she decided to test him a little. “I’m working on something pretty exciting right now, actually. A publicity deal with the netball team. When you saw me last, I was just discussing the possibility.”
She could almost hear the door slamming shut. “You’ll want to be careful there,” he said stiffly. “Out for himself, Devon. Not too scrupulous when it comes to getting what he wants.”
“Funny. That’s pretty much what he said about you.”
“About me.” He sounded genuinely surprised.
“You haven’t been all that helpful to him yourself, have you?”
“No,” he said shortly. “I haven’t. And I never will be.”
Well, that was that. He was such a puzzle. One minute he was so pleasant, even able to laugh at himself, and the next he was cold and stiff again. She didn’t understand him at all. Oh, well. She didn’t need to, did she?
“How long are you and Kristen staying?” he asked after they’d all gone for a lunch during which he’d shown the pleasant side again, and were back at the bach. Nate had helped Drew clean and store the boats and gear, though Ally had offered to help, of course. And had had her offer rejected, of course. There were advantages to going kayaking with macho guys, she’d decided. And now, Nate had come to join her on the deck while he waited for his friend to return from the walk he was taking with Kristen, their babysitting duties done.
“We’re just here a few more days,” Ally said. “Although I’ve been thinking I should give them all some family time. They’ve been so nice about including me, but you know what they say about guests and fish. After a few days, they start to stink. And I’ve been with them a whole week already. That’s a long time, especially with Hannah pregnant and not feeling well.”
Nate laughed. He was sitting forward on the wooden chair, legs apart, elbows on his knees and hands clasped, grinning at her. And looking more attractive than ever, which only confused her more.
“Not so long by Kiwi hospitality standards,” he said. “I doubt they’re whispering to each other at night that they wish you’d take yourself off. But what did you have planned to keep yourself from stinking?”
“I was thinking about hiking tomorrow, anyway, get myself out of their hair.”
“Want some company? I’m here a bit longer myself, and I know a few good tracks.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He sounded completely flabbergasted, and the grin was gone. “What d’you mean, why?”
“I mean, do you actually like me?” she heard herself asking. “Or is it just that you can’t stand to fail? Because I can’t decide.”
“Crikey, you’re blunt,” he said wonderingly.
“Well, I haven’t dated for years,” she tried to explain. “I don’t know the rules anymore, if I ever did. So I figure that means I get to make up my own.”
“Not for years, eh,” he said speculatively.
“Nope.” She thought about explaining that, abandoned the idea.
“Conversational topic for tomorrow, then?”
“Maybe,” she smiled. “If my life history’s really of any interest. And if you tell me why you’re asking me out.”
“Right. You said honesty was good, so I’ll have a crack at it. Because I like how you look. A lot. Because you keep surprising me. And because,” he said with another grin, “I really, really hate to lose.”
“And honesty wins the day,” she decided. “All good answers. Sure, I’ll go hiking with you. Hiking’s pretty safe.”
Hidden Dangers
“Careful here,” Nate said the next day. Geez. He hadn’t been on this track in a couple years. He hadn’t realized how overgrown it had become with gorse. The nasty stuff was everywhere, its bright yellow flowers looking mockingly cheerful in the sunshine, belying the vicious thorns. “I should’ve told you to wear long pants.”
“It’s all right,” Ally said. “It’s worth it for the view.” They were at the edge of the headland now, the coastal vista spreading before them. The indentations of rugged cliffs creating hidden bays, the foaming lines of white surf and endless corrugated blue of the sea beyond.
It was fairly nice. He’d got that bit right, anyway. And she actually sounded pleased, to his relief. He couldn’t imagine another woman who would’ve got her legs scratched up like this without whingeing. And she wasn’t even a Kiwi. Maybe Canadians were tough too, though. He hadn’t known enough to tell.
He turned now as he crossed a stile into a paddock, reached for her hand.
“Nate,” she sighed, “I appreciate your gentlemanly concern, but you don’t have to help me. I can do the uphills, and I can do the down
hills too. I can cross a stile without falling. I’m sorry if you’d like me to be more helpless, but I can’t fake it.”
“Yeh. Right.” He was thoroughly rattled now. He kept forgetting that she was a professional, kept automatically reaching back for her. This wasn’t going well at all. He’d thought it’d be a chance to make up some ground. Instead, he was on the back foot once again. Right, then. Conversation. He’d try that.
“This is some more of the honesty thing,” he said, embarking on a steep uphill section of track and making a conscious effort not to help her. “Making up your own rules for dating. Because you haven’t done it in years.”
“That’s it,” she said cheerfully, sounding not in the least winded as she came along behind him. For somebody with such a pretty body, she was in fantastic shape. Or maybe that was why she had such a pretty body.
Crikey. He was losing his train of thought again. Back to the topic.
“So why is that? Scare them all away?” She’d teased him enough. He’d try a bit of it on her.
She laughed. OK. Teasing was working. “No. I had somebody. Well, sort of. I’ve been with the same guy since college. I mean,” she corrected herself, “I had been. Until I came here.”
“You left him to move here with Kristen?” If she was a lesbian, he was going to have to get his signal-reading sorted. And have a chat with Mako. On the other hand, that would be pretty hot. Hmm.
“Well, not exactly.” She sounded a bit more serious now. “Kristen was planning to come down here, and she was nervous about it. About being by herself. And I thought, maybe I’ll come with her for a few months, get a job, share a place. If you’re into adventure sports, you want to come to New Zealand, you probably know that. So I mentioned it to Brian.”
“And he didn’t like the idea,” Nate guessed. OK, then. Not a lesbian. He was startled by the depth of his relief. Even though he still thought it would’ve been hot.
“No. That wasn’t it. He said it sounded fun, and I should go ahead.”
“And that was bad?” He was completely confused now. “It was a test, and he didn’t know it, cocked it up? Poor bugger.”
“You think? Say it’s you. You’ve been with a woman for six years.”
“Six years?”
“Yep. Six big, long years, ever since college—sorry, University. So you’ve been with her all that time. Living with her for years. And she says, I think I’ll go live in a new country without you. What’s your reaction?”
“Am I meant to be in love with this woman?”
“Well, hopefully. If you’ve been with her that long.”
“Then the answer is, over my dead body,” he said immediately.
“I mean,” he pulled himself up short, “I’m not a Neanderthal. If she had to do a work thing, something like that, that’s one thing. But she just wants to go off someplace new? I’d be thinking she was breaking up with me. That she was going to be meeting somebody else.”
“You’d be jealous,” she said. “You’d be upset.”
“Too right I’d be jealous. Like I said, I hate to lose. Course, I can’t quite imagine being with somebody for six years anyway. Not without being married, or engaged, or something.”
“I guess I assumed that would happen,” she admitted. “That we were moving toward something. But it didn’t, just stayed the same. And when we had that conversation, the way it went, I realized it was never going to change. That he didn’t want any more than what we had, at least not with me. I was just a . . . convenience. Who wants to be that? So that was pretty much that. We didn’t go out with a bang. Definitely a whimper. Not even a dramatic breakup scene. And it hasn’t been too bad, being on my own. Different, but not too bad. So I guess I wasn’t all that invested either, was I?”
“A bit hard being alone at Christmas,” he pointed out.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Not alone, but not with my own family. Or Brian. But most times when I miss him, I think I just miss how much easier it is being part of a couple. And having that central person in your life, that person who knows you. Which isn’t exactly the same as being passionately in love, is it?”
“Do you want to be passionately in love, then?”
“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”
“Don’t think about it much. Too focused on the footy.”
“Does one rule out the other?” She sounded startled, and he realized he’d let his honesty run away with him.
“No, wait,” he said in confusion. “I didn’t mean I wouldn’t. I just mean I haven’t.” He could almost see his chance slipping away, even from up here. Turned to look at her, and the expression on her face confirmed it. “Oh, bugger. I’m making a hash of it again, aren’t I?”
“I don’t think either of us is doing too well,” she decided. “Telling you about my old boyfriend is pretty much Dating Mistake Number One, I do know that. I’m starting over on the dating thing with no skills, as you see.”
“I wouldn’t say no skills,” he protested, starting to walk again, realizing that he had a goofy smile on his face. Geez, she amused him.
“Really? I have skills?” she asked, sounding ridiculously pleased.
“Well,” he conceded, “you’re not much on the flattery, and your style’s a bit unorthodox. But you look good. That’s a fairly important skill.”
“Look pretty, and shut up. Gotcha,” she said gloomily.
He laughed. “Nah. I’ve decided I like the honesty thing too. Women usually . . . perform for me. It can be a bit exhausting.”
“Perform? Like a stripper pole?”
He smiled again. “Nobody’s tried that. That one might actually work. But you know, being a sportsman and all, they . . . turn it on.”
“Being the new captain of the All Blacks,” she guessed. “Bet that helps.”
“Yeh. But that’s not me, is it? It’s just what I do. So even though you aren’t always flattering, at least you’re . . . real.”
“Oh, I’m real all right. OK. Your turn. Tell me something fascinating about yourself.”
“You already know it. I’m a rugby player. That’s about all I’ve got, fascination-wise.”
“And it usually works, I’ll bet.”
“Well, yeh. Usually.”
“But you went to University too. I know that,” she pressed. “So what did you study?”
“Law.”
“Law?”
“What did you think? Physical education? Basket weaving? Yeh. Law. I’m a rugby player, and I’m a lawyer as well.” He knew he sounded a bit defensive, but geez.
“You’re a lawyer?”
He sighed. “There’ve been All Blacks who’re doctors, lawyers, engineers. All the professions. You do have to have a reasonable brain to do this job at a high level, you know. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t all physical.”
“OK. Sorry,” she said hastily. “Reassessing here.”
And here they were, at the end of the track. “Careful,” he said, putting an arm out across the path, the brush hiding the edge of the hole. No matter how independent she wanted to be, he wasn’t going to let her fall in. “Fatal drop if you step too far.”
“Oh!” She stood back hastily. “What is it?”
“It’s a blowhole. Wait a sec.”
Within a minute, he felt the ground shake. Heard the rumble, the boom, and felt the spray coming up out of the deep chasm below them. He’d judged the tide right, then.
She laughed. “Wow! It really is! And no guardrail, either. Has anyone ever actually fallen in?”
“Don’t think so. Not too many people up here anyway, from the looks of that gorse. And you get the idea pretty quickly round here that you’d better look where you’re going. Not too many guardrails in En Zed, other than the big tourist spots.”
They stood a few more minutes, watching the spray, feeling the power, the force of water hitting rock through their bodies. Then turned to retrace their steps.
“You want to lead this time?” he asked. He’d automatical
ly walked in front of her the entire way out here, he realized. Another point lost.
“Sure.” She sounded pleased, and he sighed with relief at getting it right. And this was a much better idea anyway. Because now he got to look at her. And she looked so good. Her snug black shorts were . . . short, and her slim legs looked just as good in them as they had the day before. Although a bit scratched up from the gorse, which still made him wince. But the way they curved out from her trim waist, and over that round little backside . . . that was something he could look at all day. Maybe he should have put her in the water yesterday after all. He’d like to see her wet again. He’d like to get her wet. All that honesty in bed . . . that would be a novelty. She was flexible, too. He’d seen that when she’d been climbing. He had a sudden vision of pushing those legs up over her head, and had to pull himself back fast. Getting way ahead of himself here.
“What are you thinking about back there?” she asked.
“Uh . . .” His mind blanked.
She turned on the track to smile at him. A smile that faltered as she looked at him, read something of his thoughts on his face.
He schooled his face quickly into a neutral expression. “Sorry,” he said. “Off someplace else for a moment there.”
She nodded and turned back, the silence getting a bit awkward. They reached the steep section again, and she headed uphill at a good clip. He watched her climb, tried without success to keep the image of his hands yanking those shorts down, of a bit of athletic outdoor sex—somewhere with less gorse, obviously—from entering his unruly mind, and followed after her.
“Careful,” he couldn’t keep from saying, just as she stepped on a loose rock that rolled under her left foot, and he saw her start to fall. He lunged, grabbed for her. And pulled her further off balance. She twisted as she tried to regain her footing, her right foot sliding off another slippery rock, and she toppled. He felt the thunk as her face made solid contact with his elbow on the way down. She let out a little yelp, fell to her knees, put her hands out to catch herself, not quite quickly enough.
Just My Luck (Escape to New Zealand #5) Page 5