She draped the scarf around her neck with practiced ease. “Does that work?”
“You look beautiful. I’ve been remiss not telling you earlier. Red suits you.”
“Thanks.”
He started the vehicle. “Now is the time to tell me if I’m coercing you into going against your wishes.”
“No.” She let out a sigh. “I want to know you better. It’s the suddenness and…well, yes. I want to spend time with you.”
“Good.” His mind filled in what she didn’t say. Something about the rawness and intense nature of what was between them. Another wolf would understand. He hoped it was her instincts trying to tell her he was a good prospective mate. “Are your family in New Zealand?”
It wouldn’t hurt to learn about her background, to work out the origins of her wolfish scent. While a werewolf could have offspring with a human, the wolf line became diluted, and they lost the power to shift. He suspected a wolf or two lurked in Megan’s ancestral tree rather than a scent transference from another wolf with whom she’d crossed paths. If it was transference, a shower would lessen the scent, but it remained at the same strength.
“My parents are off on a world cruise. They travel a lot and my sister and I have trouble keeping up with them. Tessa talked to them a few days ago, and they said they were heading home so they could be here when my sister gives birth. Her second child is due soon.”
“Are you going to spend time with your sister?”
“I’ll try, but it depends on work. We keep in contact via email and skype. While I’m not always physically present, I don’t miss out on much.”
“You’re close.”
“Yes. There is five years between us, but we are close. Closer now than we were when we were kids. What about you?”
“I was adopted,” Jacey replied. “My adoptive parents were great. I had a happy childhood. They died several years ago. There is just Henry and me now. Were your parents born in New Zealand?”
“Why?”
“There is a faint accent to some of your words. I wasn’t sure if it is because you travel a lot or because your parents didn’t come from New Zealand.”
“Huh. Most people don’t pick up on that. My mother is Swiss and my father is Scottish. They moved to New Zealand before Tessa and I were born.”
Interesting. Both places had or were near wolf populations. Forty years ago or longer, certainly. He could research himself or maybe ask London. She was a whiz with computer research and would be much quicker than him.
He pulled into the school carpark, and at once reporters surrounded his vehicle.
“Perfect,” Megan bit out.
“You don’t have to tell them anything,” Jacey said.
She sucked in a breath, nodded.
“Let me open the door for you, so I can keep them away.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
“Mr. Anderson. Mr. Anderson. What is your relationship with Megan?” a reporter shouted.
Quick work on their part, ferreting out his name. He ignored the shouts and rounded the vehicle to open the door for Megan.
“Megan, is Jacey Anderson your new boyfriend?”
“Good morning,” Megan said in a bright voice. “I’m looking forward to the final day of the Kenneth Nesbitt Sevens tournament. There are some skilled teams and the rugby should be excellent. Don’t miss it.”
Approval filled Jacey.
“Megan. Megan!”
“Excuse me, boys. They can’t start without the commentator.”
Jacey pushed his way through the determined pack, taking his cue from Megan and ignoring their questions. They were like a pack of yipping dogs following along, shouting out nosy questions about their relationship. His wolf’s hackles rose and the beginnings of a fierce growl rolled through his mind. None of their business.
Saber opened the door to the room the council had claimed for administration purposes and strode toward them with ground-eating steps. He pushed past the reporters, a fierce scowl fixed on his face. “Stand back,” he warned. “Please allow our commentator through.”
With Saber’s help, he and Megan entered the relative peacefulness of the administration room, closing the door on the yapping reporters.
“Wow,” Agnes, one of the feline elders on the council said in a stern tone. “We didn’t expect your presence to bring such interest. Gate sales are way up for today, and the businesses nearby the school offering parking are raking in cash.”
“Good,” Megan quipped. “Then you’ll be able to afford to pay for me.”
Agnes tsked. “Oh dear. I thought you knew. The network donated your services for the weekend.”
“They did?” Megan asked. “That’s unusual. They normally charge for this sort of thing.”
“Contacts in high places,” Agnes said and tapped her nose.
Jacey turned to Megan. “Will you be okay? I have a few things I need to do.”
“We’ll make sure no one bothers her,” Saber said.
A slight man wearing spectacles pushed through a different door, one that led onto the playing fields. “We’re just about ready to go. Where is—oh, there you are. We need to wire you for sound.”
“I’m ready.” Megan turned to Jacey, her manner becoming diffident. “Will you…are you coming back later?”
“I’ll be here for the final and will drive you home afterward. Okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Jacey wanted to kiss her goodbye, but not in front of Saber, Agnes and the soundman. He made do with reaching for her hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “See you later.”
Showtime. The first game of the quarterfinals passed quickly, and Megan found herself immersed in the rugby, totally focused to match names with numbered jerseys. Between plays, she told short stories, commented on the players and the action on the field. Sometimes, she made things up or signaled for music to celebrate a try.
The soundman had pinned a mic to her borrowed jacket, and this allowed her to keep her hands free when she forgot a name and needed a quick refresher. Much easier with only seven players per team on the field at one time.
Over to her right, the temporary grandstand was full of people of all ages. The promised rain hadn’t arrived and a fickle sun peeped from behind heavy clouds. “Looks as if the breeze will be with the Middlemarch Panthers for the second half. Middlemarch’s kickoff, taken by Joe Mitchell. It’s going up. The Middlemarch team is chasing, but number three of the Hyde Runners has the ball. Tackled by Saul Sinclair. The Hyde player has dropped the ball in the tackle. This Middlemarch team is fast, people. Look at Sly Mitchell go. He’s passing to Felix Mitchell. Try!”
Before she knew it, the referee was glancing at his watch and blowing the final whistle.
“That’s it for this game,” Megan said. “The home team are through to the semi-finals. We have a ten-minute break before the next quarterfinal between the Dunedin Flyers and the Nelson Eagles kicks off. Don’t go away, folks. We’ll be back soon.” Megan flicked off her mic and strode from the sideline toward the admin room.
A bunch of kids raced to her side, holding out pens and programs. She stopped to chat and autographed the programs for both boys and girls.
“I want to be a referee,” one of the little girls said.
“Sylvie Mitchell,” a blond boy scoffed. “Girls can’t be referees.”
“I can so,” Sylvie said. “Daddy said I can be anything.” She turned big brown eyes in Megan’s direction. “I can be a referee.”
Megan bit back a smile and nodded. “Of course you can. New Zealand has some top women referees. Here comes your father now.”
The dark-haired girl glanced in the direction. “That’s not Daddy. That’s Uncle Saber. My daddy is Felix. He’s playing for the Panthers. See,” she said to the blond boy. “I can be a referee.”
“Emily sent me to get you. She brought coffee and refreshments,” Saber said.
“That would be great. I slept in and had lit
tle time for breakfast. Are the press people still hanging around?”
“Afraid so. There are three heading our direction right now. Let’s hustle.” Saber moved between her and the determined men jogging toward them.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re doing a brilliant job and the crowd is enjoying themselves. We’re also making a killing at the gate. The local business owners are happy too, including Emily.” Saber opened the door to the admin building and ushered her inside. He closed it firmly on the two reporters and one cameraman who had followed them across the field.
“Coffee or water?” Emily asked. “Or both?”
“Both please.” Megan shrugged out of her black jacket to reveal the clinging red merino jumper beneath and her black trousers. “It got hot running up and down the field. I thought I might interview some of the players plus the referee at the end of the next match. Get their perspectives. What do you think?” she asked Saber and Agnes.
Agnes tapped her pen against her paper where she was keeping a list of the scores and the players on each team. “The crowd would enjoy that.”
“That’s a great idea,” Saber said. “I’ll allocate two men to keep the reporters away. I’ll tell them to keep to the background unless they’re needed.”
“Thank you.”
“Want a sandwich?” Emily asked. “Or would you prefer fruit?”
Megan’s stomach gurgled. “Have I got time for half a sandwich?”
Agnes consulted her watch. “Five more minutes until kickoff.”
Megan accepted the sandwich—ham and mustard—and practically inhaled it. “I’ll take the water with me.” She picked up her coffee and took a few sips while listening to Emily and Saber chatter about the games.
Agnes tapped her watch, her expression stern. “Time to get moving.”
“The lunch break is half an hour,” Emily said. “Should I bring more sandwiches?”
“Please.” Megan scooped up her water and headed for the door.
The reporters were waiting for her.
“Megan! Megan, who is the man? Is he your lover?” one shouted.
Megan ignored the questions. “I am here to commentate the games. Kickoff is in one minute.”
“What about Rowena? Is it true that the two of you are at war?”
“No, of course not,” Megan said, shocked.
“Gentlemen, please let Ms. Saxon through. We are ready to start the next game,” Saber said in a no-nonsense voice.
Thankfully, they took a collective step back and allowed her to pass. She flicked on her microphone and got back to work.
Chapter Nine
“Any ideas where I should take Megan for a couple of days’ break?” Jacey directed his question to Gerard and Henry as they worked together on a quote for a new job in Queenstown.
Gerard lifted his gaze from his laptop. “Wanaka is nice.”
“No, stay away from the touristy areas. More chance of someone recognizing Megan,” Henry said. “What about Cromwell? It’s an interesting town because of the way they flooded the old town to create the dam. There are good pubs—historical ones. You can check out the old gold mining sites and there are loads of vineyards to visit. You could play golf or go for a walk. Book in at a motel or one of the upmarket places that will guarantee your privacy.”
“Good suggestion.” Gerard nodded approval. “Make sure you wear hats and sunglasses when you go out in public. Henry is right. Cromwell would be perfect—low-key and relaxing. Reporters would expect you to go to Queenstown or Wanaka or farther afield.”
“Plan,” Jacey said.
“Pop.” Gerard surprised Jacey until he deciphered the teasing in the young man. “This role reversal is kind of fun. Now I know you’re using condoms, but do you need any other advice?” Gerard stood to drape his arm around Henry’s broad shoulders, and his son and best friend studied him, eyes ablaze with their pleasure at the teasing. “Henry and I would be glad to offer our help. What are you wearing?”
A snort erupted from Jacey. “As little as possible, and that’s all you need to know, pups. I can handle things from here without your help. I’m not too old to manage internet research. What else do we need to consider for the quote? Extra labor? Where are you going to find more labor out here?”
“Not a problem,” Henry said. “I spoke to Joe and Sly Mitchell yesterday between games. The twins are looking for work now that they’ve almost finished at varsity. Joe told me they have their eye on a parcel of land and want to save a deposit. He said some of their friends would lend a hand.”
“Good.” Gerard sat in front of his laptop again. “Leo suggested I check in with his brothers. He said that he and Isabella would help us in a jam. Felix and Saber too, although they need more notice to juggle their other responsibilities.”
Two hours later, Jacey drove back to the Middlemarch School, confident his plans were underway. Now all he had to do was sneak Megan out from under the noses of the reporters.
Cars jammed the area around the school, and he ended up parking by the café and walking back to the school.
“There he is!” someone shouted as he approached the entrance to the sports fields.
Jacey blinked as a man thrust a microphone at him.
“You! Sir? How long have you known Megan Saxon? Are you an item? How long have you been dating? Did you break up her relationship with the politician?”
What politician? Jacey frowned and ignored the questions to push past the growing crowd. Good grief. He should have waited for Henry and Gerard, but he’d been too impatient to see Megan again. Kind of funny—needing security when he was in the business.
“Do you live in Middlemarch?” a female reporter asked. She pressed closer and fluttered her eyelashes. “No one seems to know much about you. No one will talk to us.”
Good. Jacey stepped around her and paid five dollars to enter the grounds. He scanned the three fields, his wolf eager to find Megan. He spotted her running up and down the sideline, her blonde hair streaming out behind her as she increased her pace to keep up with the play.
The referee checked his watch and blew his whistle, one team jumping and shouting with joy while their opposition hunched their shoulders in defeat. Only two points in the game.
Jacey approached Megan in long strides and, unable to help himself, drew her close for a quick kiss. His lips grazed her cheek and her scent, heightened by her recent exercise, cut him off at the knees. He grasped her shoulders to kiss her.
“Not here,” Megan whispered.
He seized her hand and dragged her toward the admin building.
Several youngsters approached them, but something in his demeanor chased them away. Spying a gap between the admin building and the one next door, he dragged her into the privacy. Seconds later, his mouth was on hers, his hunger for her touch desperate, as if he hadn’t seen her for weeks and days instead of mere hours. God, her touch, her scent, her sweet kisses. He couldn’t get enough of her. Last night…not nearly enough.
When he lifted his head, she looked well kissed, and he took pride in the fact. He smoothed his fingers over her cheek, taking pleasure in the silky skin. His.
“I’ve arranged a few days away,” he murmured. He stiffened as his words seemed to echo around them.
Megan’s eyes went wide as she fumbled with the mic attached to her red jumper. A few sharp taps echoed as she fumbled to switch off the mic. “I think it’s off now. I’m so sorry.”
“Could have been worse,” he said, pausing and smiling when there was no echo of his own voice around the sports ground. “I might have said that I can’t wait to fuck you and feel your heat around my cock.”
Megan spluttered out a laugh. “I might have said I can’t wait to stroke that big boy again. Sorry. I’m normally more professional and never forget stuff like pesky microphones.”
“No harm done,” Jacey said. “At least I didn’t blurt out what my plans were for the next week. We can still sneak away before t
he reporters discover our destination.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Trust me?”
Her instant nod brought a flush of pleasure in Jacey.
Somewhere nearby, a door opened. Jacey caught the swish of fabric. He turned and placed his body in front of Megan’s.
“That was entertaining,” Agnes said with a grimace. “Too bad for the reporters you realized before you mentioned anything incriminating. Are you doing the final from the sideline or from the commentary box?”
“The commentary box,” Megan said. “The game will be fast, and I want to keep up.”
Agnes nodded. “Emily delivered sandwiches and a flask of coffee for you.” She took one step toward the admin building.
“Don’t want you too exhausted for tonight,” Jacey murmured.
“I heard that, young man,” Agnes said in a strident voice. She wagged her finger. “No more of these whispered confidences until you’re away from the school. Innocent ears and all that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jacey struggled to keep a straight face.
Agnes shook her finger again. “Scallywag wolf,” she muttered and closed the door behind her.
“What did she call you?”
“A scallywag,” Jacey replied. “Come on. You need food. I saw you sprinting up and down the field.”
“It was fun. The entire tournament has been fun.”
“Better than you thought it would be.” Jacey filled in the blanks.
“My boss foisted the job on me. Jeremy acted like it was a favor but the truth is they intended to send a junior reporter. The idea of visiting the country didn’t enthuse me. It goes to show, I should never make snap judgements.”
“I, for one, am glad you came to Middlemarch.” Jacey guided her toward the admin building and opened the door for her.
“That was entertaining.” Saber glanced up from his laptop and the spreadsheet he was working on with the scores and individual scoring statistics.
Jacey took a bow. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
My Plan B (Middlemarch Shifters Book 11) Page 11