Page 67 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

Oh, who am I kidding? Yes I do, with every fiber of my being. But I don’t know what going to bed with him would be like. He’s obviously experienced in the bedroom, and although he’s a nice guy, he is a pirate, and his personality is naturally dominant. That half-excites and half-scares me. What if I panic and freeze? I don’t want to disappoint or frustrate him.

Ah, jeez, how do I get over this enormous barrier that sits in front of me like Hadrian’s Wall? At the moment it’s not just keeping out the unwanted barbarians, it’s stopping all the good traffic as well. Imagine all those Roman citizens eager to visit Vindolanda for shopping, and that fucking wall isn’t letting any of them through.

“Er, yeah,” Linc says. “She is.”

I glance at him, but he’s looking away, across the gardens. I’m vaguely aware that he’s been telling Joel about Edmund, and how he’s nervous about going to see him in Queenstown.

“Yeah,” Linc continues, “Arrowtown.” He listens for a bit. Glances at me. “Uh…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe. Yeah, I know. I’m sure she would. Of course. I don’t know… Well, yeah, I can see that…” He sighs. “All right. I’ll let you know. Speak soon, bye.” He stops walking and ends the call. Then he looks at me.

“What?” I ask, amused.

He studies me for a moment. He seems to be trying to make a decision. Then, eventually, he says, “Do you want to come to Queenstown with me?”

I stare at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I was telling Joel how I’m nervous about meeting Edmund, and he said you should go with me because you’re good in situations like that. And you’d also be able to come to Arrowtown with me and talk to the guy about the Bell Ring. He really wants you to find it for your mum.”

“Well, yeah, it would mean a lot to her. But…” I swallow hard, trying to fight the swell of excitement I feel at the thought of spending more time with him. “You don’t want me tagging along.”

He shrugs, his lips curving up. “I don’t know. The last few days have been fun. It might be nice to spend some more time together.”

Our eyes meet. My heart does a little Pas de Bourrée. More time together might mean more kissing. Which could mean…

He turns away. “Well, think about it. Come on, it’s nearly six and the program’s about to start.”

I think about it all the way through Nga Tohunga Whakatere—The Navigators—a planetarium film about Maori, Pasifika, and European navigation toward Aotearoa New Zealand. It’s an amazing film, but the presence of the man in the seat next to me overrides any thoughts I might have had about the stars. I keep my arm on the rest next to his so I can touch him, wanting to feel his skin against mine. I can smell his cologne. He’s driving me crazy.

When the film ends, we spend some time in the shop as Linc wants to buy a few things. I pretend to flick through a book on constellations, but it’s hard to concentrate when all I want to do is talk about Queenstown.

Eventually I see him at the counter, and when he’s paid for his purchases, we go outside into the early evening air.

“Got you a present,” he says, and hands me a small bag.

“Oh!” I genuinely wasn’t expecting anything. I open the bag and extract a pair of stud earrings. My eyes widen. Oh my God, I saw these in the locked cabinet. They were nearly two thousand dollars a pair!

They’re made of white gold, each earring constructed from two posts crossed not quite at right angles, with all four ends of the posts bearing small diamonds to make the Southern Cross or Crux constellation that’s only visible in the Southern Hemisphere.

“Linc,” I gasp. “These are so expensive!”

“You’re worth it.” He smiles. “I thought they’d be a nice reminder of our time together.”

I concentrate on examining them while I think about his words. Sometimes when we were young, he’d leave me a written message like ‘Thank you for the loan of the book, I really enjoyed it,’ followed by a few lines describing what he’d read. It would seem very basic and boring, but then I’d get a slight whiff of lemon juice and, excited, I’d hold the message over a candle flame, and the secret words would jump into life—usually something a little wicked meant to tempt me like ‘if you want to skip Bible class at ten we’re going for a hike. Meeting by the bridge with chocolate!’

Just like then, I feel I have to read between the lines to find the real message. Is he reminding me that his time here is limited? That he can’t or won’t get involved with me because of that, no matter how much either of us want to?

I look up and meet his eyes. His expression is gentle but direct. Yes, that is what he’s saying.

“They’re beautiful,” I say softly. “Thank you.” I take them out, remove my present earrings, and slot the new ones into my ears. “What do you think?”

“Stunning,” he says. “The earrings, too.”

I give him a wry look. “Come on, let’s get back to the car.”

We don’t say much as we walk. I’m so touched by the gift, but it makes me sad, too, because of their meaning.

When we get back to the car, I stop and turn to him, unable to hold it in any longer. “Can I say something?”

“Of course,” he says, surprised.

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