Found (Not Quite a Billionaire Book 3)

by Rosalind James

  See? It even sounds dirty. How could you explain that to anybody, let alone a man in his eighties? Especially your incredibly inventive lover’s beloved grandfather?

  Koro had been watching me, to my disquiet. Now, he spoke again. “What two people get up to in the privacy of their bedroom—that’s between the two of them. But when you go about shaming your husband to his friends or embarrassing an innocent neighbor who just wants a bit of peace, that’s different. Secrets are all good. Every couple should have a few. What good are they, though, if they don’t stay secret?”

  I dared a glance at him, and he said, “That’s why you have marriage, eh. So you have somebody to keep your secrets. She didn’t keep his, but I’m guessing he’ll do better this time.”

  “Yes,” I said. “He will.”

  He did smile, then. “That’s enough of that, I reckon. This will pass, and it’ll be a memory to talk about together, another brick for the two of you to build on. They won’t all be smooth, and they shouldn’t be. You can’t get a good grip on smooth. You need the rough times as well. That’s where you both see what you’re made of. That’s what gives you faith.”

  Imagine how much I wanted to talk to Hemi after all that. Too bad the time was all wrong. Instead, I started to get dressed, then stood in the middle of his bedroom in my underwear and texted him, because I couldn’t stand not to.

  Interesting article in the Herald today. You play hardball.

  After a couple minutes, I got back, That was the idea. Too rough for you?

  It wasn’t what Koro had been talking about, but I went with it. I’d bet Anika had never teased, not the way I could. I might not be able to do “intense” as well as the Black Widow, but I did sweet and innocent and fun like nobody’s business. I’d had twenty-five years of practice.

  I like it rough, though, I texted back, in that secret space of ours and loving it. And I like watching you win as much as I like letting you win.

  Bloody hell, I got back. I’m in a meeting.

  It had worked, so I ran with it some more. Oh? Am I distracting you? You’d better call me tonight, then, and tell me exactly how disappointed you are in me.

  No, I wasn’t Anika. Tonight, I’d congratulate him on his salvo in the nasty war she’d pulled him into. He’d been born to win, and if she couldn’t see it, she wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. And what I’d said was true. I loved watching him win. I loved the powerful side of him, and I loved the vulnerable side, too. Tonight, I’d invite him to show me both. I’d talk to him, I’d listen to him, and when we’d done that? I’d let him win.

  I’d said we needed to concentrate on something other than sex if we wanted our relationship to move forward. I’d been right. But oh, how I missed him.

  Hope

  There was still all that real life to get through before tonight, though. All those fabulous growth opportunities I needed to experience in order to make myself into the woman I wanted to be, not to mention into a partner who could stand up to a man as powerful as Hemi. The only way to get stronger was to face the hard things and do them, and I knew it. That was why, a half hour later, I ran out of the house behind Matiu and hopped into the right side of his car, my heart picking up the pace right on cue.

  Note One. You are in control.

  The affirmation didn’t work all that well, but it beat putting my arms over my head and whimpering, “I can’t do this.” Replacing negative thoughts with positive ones. Seeking progress, not perfection. All those good things. Except that I still had to drive.

  “First time in the rain, eh,” Matiu said, reading my nervousness and flashing me a reassuring grin. “First time for everything, I reckon. Let’s go have an adventure. Lights. Windscreen wipers. You’ve got this.”

  He and Tane had been switching off, and not only with helping Koro dress in the mornings and bathe in the evenings. They’d also been giving Karen and me driving lessons, one of them taking us out every night since we’d taken the written test and received our learner licenses. It meant we’d started out our career of endangering the local population by driving in the dark, but as Matiu had said that first day, “Always easier to go from harder to easier than the other way round.” We were less hazardous than we’d have been in New York City, anyway. There was that.

  I switched on the lights and wipers, released the parking brake, put the car into reverse, and pressed cautiously on the accelerator, my breathing picking up as the car did. “Oh, man,” I was muttering under my breath. “Oh, man.” I could barely see.

  “Have to actually give it some gas,” Matiu said, sounding like he was about to laugh.

  “I’m not sure how . . . slippery it is,” I tried to explain.

  “It’s rain, not ice. Come on, Hope.” He put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. “Down the hill and away we go. Don’t want to be late to work. Sonya would probably give you the sack.”

  “Oh, you’re helpful,” I muttered, but I did get the car turned around and headed down the hill again.

  By the time I got to the nearly empty parking lot by the beach, pulled to a stop, and did all the steps in reverse, I was so tense, I was nearly shaking. “Whew,” I managed to say. “OK. Driving in the rain is different.” Especially when I’d braked at the bottom of the hill and the car had taken so much more time to stop than I’d realized, until I’d ended up jamming my foot on the brake and sending both Matiu and me hard into the seatbelts. That had been a moment.

  Matiu shook his head. “Karen’s sure she’s ready to compete in the Grand Prix, and you drive like my granny. Are you sure you’re sisters?”

  “Half sisters.” My heart would stop racing soon, surely. “Maybe that’s why, but I doubt it.”

  “Sometime,” he said, “you’ll have to tell me that story. But just now, there’s probably a farmer walking into the ER with a hatchet sticking out of his head, about to ask me to give it a quick yank, there’s a boy, because he’s got stock to move.”

  I laughed. “It’s a little different from Brooklyn and gunshot wounds, I’m guessing.”

  “Could be. I had a good one yesterday. This crusty old joker comes in with a nail straight through his hand, shoves it at me, and says, ‘Give it a good hard pull, mate. Tried to pull it out myself already, but couldn’t get a good enough grip. Asked the missus to use the claw end of the hammer, but she wouldn’t do it. Bloody soft. Drove me here instead, which is a bloody waste of both our time.’ I’m trying to explain about tetanus and puncture wounds, and he gives a snort and says, ‘A new danger every day, seems to me. Killer bacteria, mad cows, some new mosquito that’ll turn you mad if the cows don’t get you first. I’ve got along without knowing about any of that for sixty-three years, and I can get along without knowing about them now. But then, if you lot couldn’t convince the general public that every sneeze was double pneumonia, you’d be out of a job. Just do it.”

  I was smiling, my tension forgotten. Matiu had that effect. “So what did you do?”

  Laughter danced in his dark eyes. “Asked if he wanted a bullet to bite on while I pulled the nail out. He didn’t think I was funny. Told me I was a cheeky bugger. He didn’t need the bullet, though. I’d be willing to bet you he’s out moving that stock today, snapping at the missus when she asks him if he’s changed the bandage and put that ointment on like the doctor said. If he comes back in with an infection, I’m likely to give him that jab straight into the bum just to show him. Kiwi blokes and medicine aren’t always an easy mix. More likely to pour some whisky on it and bind it up with duct tape. Women, now . . . they’re much better.”

  I zipped my anorak and said, “On that note, I’m out of here. Nobody in there with a hatchet in his head, I hope, but I need to go anyway.”

  He was out of the car on the words, coming around to my side, ready to slide into the driver’s seat. “See you this afternoon, then. Four o’clock.”

  “I can walk home. It’s not supposed to rain all day.”

  “Nah. I need to see you
going above thirty. I’ve got a short day myself, and I’m ready to help you live dangerously. We’ll collect Karen and drive all the way to Tauranga. Tackle the roundabout, and then do a bit of a shop for the three of you on the way home. More practice in the Countdown carpark.”

  I would have argued—probably just because “tackling the roundabout” sounded like the least attractive activity ever—but this wasn’t the time. Matiu was getting soaked, the water streaming over him, flattening his black hair to his scalp, and if I didn’t get inside right now, I was going to be late. So instead, I said, “Thanks. See you then,” and ran.

  Inside the little café, my boss, the blonde, comfortably middle-aged Sonya, was sliding plates holding quiche, bacon and egg pie, and frittatas into the cabinet, and my stomach gave its usual lurch at the sight and smell of all that food.

  Waitressing wasn’t the perfect job for a woman with incessant morning sickness, but it was the one that had been available. Anyway, the midwife I’d finally visited two days before had told me, with typical Kiwi cheerfulness, that there was nothing to do but “bear with it, love, until it’s over. Another few weeks and you’re golden.” Which I was clinging to with the desperation of a drowning man, especially at that moment. The smell of bacon and eggs hung in the air like a cloud and caused saliva to pool in my mouth, and not in a good way.

  I pulled off my anorak and hung it up by the door, concentrating on deep breaths, and Sonya said, “There you are, darling.”

  “Sorry,” I said automatically. “Am I late?”

  She waved a hand. “No worries. You had Matiu out there getting wet, I notice. He’s a handsome fella, isn’t he. Seems unfair he’d be a doctor as well.”

  “He sure is.” I started my own morning routine of emptying the dishwasher, checking the tables. “I’d say he’s got charm to burn.”

  “Burning it on you, eh.”

  “Nope. That’s just his normal mode.”

  “Right.”

  I didn’t bother to correct her. Half of Katikati already knew too much about my business, and the other half was rapidly catching up. But I was wearing a gigantic rock on my finger that could tell its own story, Hemi was fully aware that his cousins were giving me driving lessons, and I was tired of living my life explaining and apologizing.

  On the upside, I was learning to drive and to swim, and my boss didn’t hate me. Which was novel.

  Hope

  Much later that day, I woke with a start from a doze, groped around distractedly for long seconds, then finally located the phone on the duvet, stabbed at the screen, and said, “Hello?”

  There at last was the voice I’d longed to hear, the one that was better than any other. It sounded as amused as his cousin’s, but you know what they say: scarce commodities are the most valuable. Hemi’s amusement and warmth were as scarce as they could be—and were shown almost solely to me.

  “Only so early a fella can get up,” he said, “at least I would have said so before I met you. Could be I’ll have to try for four instead of five next time, though, because I’ve waited all day and night for this.”

  “Mm.” It had been two days since we’d talked. It felt like forever. I blinked and shoved myself up on an elbow to check the old-fashioned alarm clock at the bedside. “It is after nine, you know. And all right, I know it’s five a.m. there, but what can I say? I had a busy day. I drove on a roundabout. Well, not on it. I didn’t mess up quite that badly. Around it. And maybe I’m worth your early start, you know?”

  “Maybe you are.” Just hearing that smooth, low voice could make everything start tingling, and it was happening now. “Nah, I’d say you definitely are. Nothing I like more than talking to you in bed, except being in your bed. I’m guessing you’re still missing me, the way you’ve been teasing me. Texting me like that—now, that was naughty.”

  “Could be I am. Missing you and naughty. Maybe you could remind me that you’re coming back.” Flirting with somebody who’ll give you not just the fun of it, but that almost-dangerous edge, too—is there anything better? Not for me.

  “I’m coming back,” he said. “No worries. But I’ve got something to tide you over as well. A parcel’s arriving for you day after tomorrow. You may not want to open it in front of Koro. In fact, don’t open it at all, not until I tell you. You can ring me this time, no matter how early it is for me, because I may have to do a bit of . . . explaining. I’m going to need you awake for that.”

  I did my best to keep things under control, even though I knew it was a lost cause. Anika, I thought, then kicked her to the curb. “A parcel, huh? Flowers aren’t enough, even though you’ve already replaced them twice? They don’t even have a chance to die before you’ve got another bunch there. Koro told me today that it smelled like ‘a bloody bordello’ in here. He says he’s the patient, remember? Of course, then he said in a big hurry, “Don’t tell Hemi that, though. Likely to fill my room with lilies, the way he’s going, and I’m not dead yet.”

  Hemi’s rich, low laugh spiraled its slow, smoky way down my body. “Good to know. Sounds like he’s feeling better.”

  “He is.” I wriggled further up and shoved the pillow more comfortably under my back. “I think that’s mostly Karen. She makes him laugh, and you should hear her putting dinner on the table and pointing out that it’s better than anything I’ve ever made. I’ve considered reminding her that I was always away from home working during those years when I cooked those inferior meals, but I hate to spoil her fun.”

  “Both Koro and I have a weakness for a cheeky girl, I reckon,” he said. “So tell me about the roundabout. Having an adventure, eh.”

  “That’s what Matiu said, and boy, did he laugh when I did it. I hate to confess this to you.”

  “Ah. That’s always good. I’m waiting.”

  “Well, if I have to tell, I have to, I guess.” I did my best to pout, although being an irresistibly sexy tease had never exactly been in my skill set. “I drove around twice before I figured it out, and then I had to drive around another time to do it. And I may have . . . squeaked a little.” That surprised a laugh out of him. “Hey. There was traffic.”

  “I do love the way you squeak. What did Matiu do?”

  “He didn’t grab the wheel. I can tell you’re waiting to hear me say that. He just got really stern, like you. Really calm. Must have been his doctor voice. He said . . .” I lowered my voice. “‘Hope. Listen to me. Indicate for your turn, check your mirror, and do it.’ It was very impressive. I was so shocked, I did it. The men in your family and their alpha tendencies.”

  A second, then he asked, “What about Karen?”

  “Oh, she had no problem, of course. But we will just note here that she’s the one Matiu’s grabbed the wheel on. More than once. She thinks she’s an expert, and she sits back there and criticizes my driving. It’s extremely annoying. You wait, she’ll do it to you, too. I’d pay money to see that. Or even better—to Charles. That’ll be an experience to witness. ‘Charles, the speed limit here is 25.’ Yeah, that’ll go over big.”

  “So has Matiu been giving you your lessons? Thought that was going to be Tane.”

  “It’s both of them, but Matiu has more time, so he’s been doing a little more of it.”

  “Mm. Are you having fun, baby?”

  “You know,” I said, “I am. Maybe that’s terrible to say, because I do miss you, and I hate not being with you, with everything you’re going through, but . . . it’s good, too. The job’s not horrible, and I can’t tell you how new that is. I’m not tense all the time, waiting to be fired, or at least to be told I’m stupid. I’m not . . . desperate, and that’s pretty great. And being with Koro, the lessons—all that’s good.” I hesitated a moment, then said, “I did something, too. A little impulsively. I hope you like it.”

  “What’s that?”

  My heart was beating faster. If Hemi didn’t think it was any big deal . . . and he might not. I didn’t know how a man would feel. Or more accurately, I didn’t kno
w how Hemi would feel. He seemed so different from me at times, it was as if he were not just another gender, but another species. “You may think it’s stupid,” I started to say, then stopped myself mid-sentence. “Scratch that. I was just telling myself today that I wasn’t going to apologize or explain myself to everybody, and here I am doing it.”

  “You could practice your new resolve on me,” he said, “since I love you. Safe territory.”

  The simplicity of it took my breath away. “I could,” I finally said. “I will. Here you go. I’m sending it. Hang on.”

  I took the phone from my ear, scrolled to the right app, and fifteen seconds later, heard the chime of a sent message. Then I waited.

  It took at least a minute before Hemi said in a completely different tone of voice, “And you thought I might not like this.” And I breathed again.

  It was a picture. Of me, to be exact. Me in the bathroom mirror. Two shots, side and front, in my underwear and a bra which was going to need replacing very soon, along with all the others. One hand framing my lower abdomen, which was still nothing like huge, but bigger than it had been ten days ago when Hemi had last seen it.

  “I thought,” I said, feeling strangely shy, “that I could do it every week. As a sort of record. You could compare, and so could I. I thought it might help us feel . . . close. Because I was missing you so much today.”

  “I think you’re right,” he said. “I think I love it. The only problem is, I want to get on the plane right now. That little belly . . .”

  “I know.” Once again, the stupid tears were right there behind my eyes. “It’s . . . I know it’s so normal, the most natural thing in the world, but it’s happening to me, to us, and it feels like the first time ever. That there could be a person growing, to be able to see it getting bigger. To know that in a few months, we’ll be able to feel it moving inside me. Our little swimmer. And I know that my being here with that happening feels to you like I’m playing games, but it matters so much that we get it right. For both of us, and for the . . . for whoever this is. I want to do it right.”