Page 120 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

I rub my nose. “My brother needs to keep his mouth shut.”

“No, I’m glad he told me. I scraped through a degree because I had to, really, but I didn’t do great. I’m all talk—I can talk my way in or out of any situation. I’m what Londoners call a fanny merchant, a bullshitter. I know that. And I’ve made my peace with it. But I have such respect for you and your academic work. The archaeological world would be nothing without people like you doing the real work behind the scenes—the studying, the recording, and analyzing.”

“God, that makes me sound dull,” I say with a half-laugh.

“No… Lora… I meant it when I said you fascinate me. All the members of your family do. Okay, none of you is going to find a cure for cancer, but individually you’ve all done amazing things. Your mum is mother to all those kids at Greenfield, many of whom don’t have a real mum, or only have a useless one, like me. Your dad was absolutely instrumental in making me into the man I am now. I’ve read the reports on the museum—Fraser has completely turned it around and it’s actually making money now, and it’s listed as one of the top places to visit in New Zealand. Joel’s making a name for himself as one of the top underwater archaeologists in Australasia. And you’re going to revolutionize the way we look at the ancient bird population in this country.”

“Fuck me,” I say, exasperated, “please stop or I’m going to slit my wrists.”

“Stop it,” he snaps then, putting his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why you and Fraser talk to me as if I’m someone else. Just because I don’t dress like Indiana Jones.”

I stare at him for a moment. “Is this you putting your foot down?”

He glares at me. Then he says, “Maybe. Is it working?”

“Sort of. It’s kinda hot.”

His lips twitch, and he holds up a finger. “Stop it. I’m serious. You’re talking to the guy who’s famous for identifying a rabbit bone.”

That makes me giggle. “Yeah, okay.” I take his hand, close my mouth over his extended finger, and suck it gently.

His eyes nearly fall out of his head. “Jesus, Lora.”

I lift my head. “What?”

“That’s the quickest I’ve ever achieved an erection.”

I dissolve into giggles.

“You realize we’re not alone,” he scolds, tucking an arm around my waist as he escorts me back to the stairs.

I glance across and see that we’re being watched by a group of women, who are all smiling, and I blush scarlet. “Oh my.”

He laughs and kisses my forehead. “That’s made my day.”

“Oh don’t… I’m so embarrassed…”

“It’s probably made their day too.”

“Linc!”

He laughs, pushing open the door at the bottom of the steps, and thankfully we go through to the next deck.

Although it has only just gone five o’clock, we’re hungry and decide to head to the Bluegills restaurant for an early dinner. After we’ve placed our order—me for gulf shrimp with Cognac and garlic, Linc for filet mignon with black truffle sauce—he tells me he’s taking part in a panel this evening in the Theater at seven, following which there’s going to be a party.

“A party?”

He gives me an amused look. “There’s going to be live music and dancing! Disco, mainly, I think. Just imagine.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“When was the last time you went to a party?” he teases. Then he sees the look on my face and looks horror struck. “Shit. I’m so sorry. Fuck. I keep putting my foot in it.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. But yeah, I haven’t been to a party for a long time.”

“You’ll come with me, though?” he asks. “You’ll dance with me?”

I think about being close to him and moving slowly to the music. I’d like to do that more than anything in the world. But in public?

---