Page 12 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

I don’t know much about his position at MOANA. It’s a big company with branches in most of the major cities in New Zealand. I know he’s a maritime archaeologist, but I assumed he was just a field worker, one of the eight or so in the Wellington team. His mention of an expense account suggests a higher position than that, though.

The receptionist gives us our key cards and explains how to get to the suites, and we leave the foyer and walk out through the front doors. We turn right and head along the long, covered walkway.

Any questions I have vanish as we approach the two suites. Their doors are next to each other, and Joel leaves his case propping open the door to mine and follows me inside.

“Oh my God.” I walk right up to the sliding doors and stare at the fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean. From here I can see right across to the old capital of New Zealand on the other side of the bay—Kororareka, also known as Russell. The bay is full of boats, both motor and sailing. In the distance I can see a cruise ship moored—that must be the one hosting the ANZAS tour.

In front of us is a private balcony, with a slope that leads down to the main swimming pool and the smaller hot pools.

“Jesus, that’s an amazing view,” Joel says, joining me at the window.

We both stare at it for a moment. Then I turn and look around the room. We’re standing in a living room, witha comfortable-looking light-gray sofa and armchairs facing a large-screen TV. A dining table and chairs sit just down from us by the window, and there’s a kitchenette over the other side. I walk through to the bedroom, which is huge, with a king-size bed facing the window, the bedding keeping the ocean theme with crisp white sheets, sea-blue pillow slips, and a turquoise band across the bottom. Big paintings of the sea hang on the walls, and a driftwood mobile twists slowly in the breeze from the open window.

Joel stands beside me, and I feel the warmth of his body against my arm.

“Big bed,” he says.

“You smell like the sea,” I murmur.

“It’s Jimmy Choo’s Man Aqua.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t move. I turn my head a little. I’m looking straight at his throat. He’s warm—the hollow there is glistening. If I touched it with my tongue, it would taste of salt.

I lift my gaze to him. He’s not smiling.

“Your eyes are the same color as the sky,” I whisper.

“Yours are incredibly green.” His lids lower a little, and his gaze drops to my mouth. He’s thinking about kissing me.

If he dips his head now, I won’t be able to stop him. My willpower is rapidly vanishing where this guy is concerned.Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re going to put me off, because it won’t work. I always get what I want in the end. How can I resist him when he says things like that?

But then I think about what would happen if I let him kiss me. If I let him push me back onto this huge bed, and take off my clothes, and move inside me. It’ll be heavenly; I have no doubt about that. But I would fall for him, I know I would, and I can’t let that happen.

I move back into the living room, walk over to my case, and clear my throat. “How long do we have?” I ask, bringing it into the bedroom.

He looks at his phone. “The dinner starts at six, and it’s only just after midday. I might go for a swim, if you’d like to join me.”

That brightens me up. “Oh, sure, that sounds nice.”

“I’ll meet you down by the pool in ten? We can order drinks and food down there, I think.”

I nod happily. “Okay.”

He goes to the door and collects his suitcase. Then he hesitates and looks back at me. We study each other across the room.

“About what I said on the plane,” he says.

I wait for him to apologize. To say he overstepped the mark. That he didn’t mean it. That he was kidding, and it was all a joke.

“I meant every word,” he says. He doesn’t smile.

Then he walks out, letting the door close behind him.

I stare after him for a moment. Then I go into the bedroom, flop onto the bed on my back, and cover my face with my hands.

---