Page 116 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

“Too long,” I reply, feeling oddly emotional, the same way I did when I saw Joel and Fraser. It’s not an entirely positive emotion—seeing these old friends drags me back to my youth, a time when I was governed by anger and resentment, emotions I’ve mostly managed to put behind me now. But even so, it’s still good to see him.

“And Elora!” He stares at her, then comes forward to give her a hug. “My God, you’ve grown up.”

“It’s funny how everyone remains preserved in amber when you haven’t seen them for a while,” she says, hugging him back. “I keep forgetting you’re not all eighteen still.”

“No, unfortunately not.”

“And a daddy!” she says as we start walking out of the airport. “That’s amazing. I’m so pleased for you.”

He grins. “Yeah, best thing that ever happened to me, apart from Juliette, obviously.”

“How is the little one?”

“Adorable. Being a father is awesome. I can highly recommend it.” He looks at me. “No kids yet?”

“Need a wife first, preferably.”

“No news on that front?”

I smile. “Not yet.”

His gaze slides to Elora, who’s negotiating the curb with her case, then back to me. His eyes gleam, but he doesn’t say anything. I glare at him, and he gives a short laugh and leads the way across the road.

He unlocks a smart new Range Rover, and Elora and I put our cases in the boot. She gestures for me to climb in next to Henry, and then gets in the back. He starts the car and joins the traffic leading to the city.

“So Kia Kaha is going well?” I ask. I know that he and some friends set up the company that makes medical equipment—specifically exoskeletons and other devices that help people to regain their mobility and strengthen their limbs after illness or injury.

“Very well,” he says. “It’s great to see people walking out of the offices after coming in wheelchairs or on crutches.”

“It must be very rewarding,” Elora says.

“Much more honorable than digging up mummies and Viking ships,” I say, only half joking.

“Ah, it doesn’t work like that,” Henry says. “If it did, I’d be feeling guilty because I’m not actually saving lives like a heart surgeon does. What you guys do is essential—discovering and recording the past. You have to know where you come from to understand where you’re going, don’t you?”

“True,” I reply, glancing over my shoulder. Elora is smiling, and she winks at me.

Before long we’re winding our way through the streets of the city, occasionally getting a flash of the Avon River. Henry turns off not far from Hagley Park, stopping the car in front of an attractive building at the top of a terrace leading down to the river. We get out, and he locks our cases in the car and leads us across and into the building.

“It’s called a biophilic design,” he explains, “which means it integrates natural landscape features, and natural lighting and ventilation, and connects the occupants more closely to nature.”

“Oh Henry,” Elora says, “it’s beautiful.”

I have to agree. The foyer is open and spacious, with high ceilings and lots of glass admitting the bright sunshine, which means less electric light. The reception desk is an attractive curve fronted with wood that’s been carved into Maori patterns. A huge painting hangs on the wall of what looks like the creation myth of Papatuanuku and Ranginui. Pots of green ferns stand surrounded by piles of large round stones, and a fountain in the center rains down merrily onto a river channel that runs through the building and is crossed by various bridges.

“Yeah, I’m quite proud of it,” Henry says, leading the way across the foyer and into the offices. They all have glass walls, which increases the light and feel of being in a community rather than closeted away in individual spaces where you don’t get to see your co-workers.

He takes us through to the treatment rooms and shows us the impressive exoskeletons they’ve developed, and we get to watch a patient using one—with her permission—while Henry explains how it works. After that, he takes us back through to the management offices that open onto the terrace, overlooking the Avon, and we sit outside and have a coffee while we chat for a while.

I thought we were going out for lunch, but when it gets to twelve thirty, Henry explains that we’re going to join the rest of his team for a buffet lunch in the boardroom, because they all want to meet us. So Elora and I follow him down to the boardroom, and he introduces us to his colleagues—Alex, who appears to have taken on the CEO role even though he insists they’re all on equal footing, James, who’s head of finance, Tyson, who was the inspiration for the creation of the company after he had an accident and couldn’t walk, and finally Juliette—Henry’s wife, whose Indian heritage is evident in her fine features and the fact that she is wearing a sari and a bindi between her brows.

They’ve ordered in food—rolls, savories, and cakes—and we eat while we chat, the others asking questions about our time at Greenfield, and encouraging Elora and me to tell stories about Henry, which they all find most amusing. I get the feeling he doesn’t talk about himself much, so they seem to like this insight into his past.

Despite Elora telling me that she’s shy and doesn’t get out much, she’s relaxed in company, and asks lots of questions about their business, which the guys enjoy answering. It reminds me that she acts as a tour guide sometimes and makes me wonder what she might have achieved if it hadn’t been for the incident when she was eighteen. She might have flourished at Otago University, maybe even become a public speaker. I think she could have run her own company, with her knowledge and intelligence. I hate that those men took that away from her. I hope I’ve gone a small way to handing her back some of her control.

That makes me think of her sitting astride me, riding me with her head tipped back, and I shift in my seat. Keep it cool, Linc.

“So,” Alex says as two o’clock draws near. The plates hold piles of crumbs, and we’re all pleasantly full. “You’re off on a cruise, is that right?”

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