Page 129 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

She laughs. “That sounds like me.”

“You sat beside me and showed me, pointing out the eye socket and the great long bill. Then you asked me what I was doing there. I said I’d been naughty, and your dad was probably going to expel me. I was being a drama queen. But you just laughed and said, ‘Dad doesn’t expel people, silly,’ and then you flung your arms around my neck and gave me a big hug and said, ‘Just say sorry and you’ll be fine.’”

She smiles. “I don’t remember that.”

“I just sat there, stunned. You were only a kid, but I’d never been hugged by anyone, let alone a girl, and I didn’t know whether to hug you back or not. You didn’t seem to mind, though, you jumped down and said you were going to draw the skull in your book and ran off.”

“I was right, though,” she says, “you weren’t expelled.”

“I took your advice and said I was sorry. Your Dad gave me a peanut-butter cookie and a glass of milk and told me not to worry about it. Things started to come right for me after that.”

“I’m glad,” she says. “I like thinking I was your first hug.”

“Me too,” I say.

She settles down, cuddling up to me, and I draw the duvet over us both and tuck it around her. “You don’t mind that I like to touch you?” I ask, stroking her back.

She shakes her head, so I continue to do it, even after her breathing levels out, and I know she’s asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elora

In the morning, by the time we’ve woken, showered, and dressed, the engines have stopped, and we discover we’ve arrived in Port Chalmers, about a twenty minutes’ drive from Dunedin.

We go out onto the balcony to check out the view. The port is busy and bustling, and we lean on the railing and watch the boats coming and going, and the passengers who are debarking, ready to board the buses to explore the city.

“There’s something thrilling and mysterious about traveling all through the night,” I say. “About walking out to see different scenery, as if you’ve been magically transported there by winged horses in the darkness.”

At first Linc rolls his eyes and grins, but when I continue watching the scene with a sense of wonder, he slides his arms around me and says, “Ah, I’m being cynical. I forget you haven’t traveled much.”

“At all.”

“At all. It’s the same on a plane or a train. Traveling is exciting. Strange cities and amazing scenery. People speaking other languages and behaving in ways so different from our own. I’d like to go to India, and South America, and Iceland, and discover the history of all those places.”

I rest my hands on his arms, enjoying the embrace, but sadness blooms inside me like a gray cloud on the horizon. I’m never going be the sort of person who’s comfortable traveling the world. I hyperventilated at the thought of going from Wellington to Queenstown. How would I be if, when I disembarked, I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying? Just the thought makes my pulse race.

Linc tucks his hand beneath my breasts, over my heart, and says, “Traveling is always scary. Things rarely go smoothly, but you learn to be flexible and adjust. You end up like Mohammed Ali, dancing like a butterfly, you know? That’s why I don’t like making plans. It’s like trying to balance on a raft in the ocean. You can’t just stand still—you have to make adjustments, counter the movement of the waves.”

“I’d be in the sea in seconds. You have to understand that about me, Linc.”

He kisses my shoulder. “It’s a skill that can be learned. Look at how far you’ve come already. Jumping off a platform into a chasm! Singing karaoke in front of a crowd. Being the first on a dance floor.”

“Against my will.”

“I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t secretly want to do.”

I turn in his arms. “I know,” I say softly, and I lift my face for his kiss. “You’re right. I’ve already done things with you that I never thought I’d be able to do in my life.”

“Like having sex in public?”

I snort. “Hardly in public. We’re completely secluded out here.”

He gestures forward. “There was a fishing boat out there, and I’m sure I saw the glint of a telescope lens.”

“Oh, don’t lie…”

“He would have had the perfect view of my ass,” he says, and laughs. “Guaranteed to put him in therapy.”

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