Impossible Liaison

by Anne Ashby

  “Damn Connor Matthews,” she whispered as she blinked furiously to stop the welled-up tears escaping. Why did you have to come back now?

  Chapter Four

  In the kitchen Zoe hadn’t noticed Connor’s attire, but now at the table, his clothing choice seemed oddly eccentric when the house was oppressively hot, the humidity draining.

  Zoe had thrown on beach baggies and a crop top after a quick swim at Cheltenham Beach. Even Bess still wore her loose sun frock. Connor sat in a pair of trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, not even rolling up the sleeves.

  Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye she could see the effect of the admittedly appetizing curry producing tiny beads of sweat to his upper lip and forehead. Her breath caught as her gaze was drawn to the way his shirt was beginning to stick to parts of his torso.

  “Aren’t you hot?” Her query was as much to take her mind away from that muscular torso as to being interested in his answer.

  Frowning, a shadow of annoyance crossed his face.

  She used her napkin in a vain effort to emphasis the still heat surrounding them. Don’t get your knickers in a twist she almost scoffed aloud. I only made an observation, for Heaven’s sake. Don’t answer me; see if I care.

  She turned to Bess, but before she could open her mouth, Connor spoke, his voice heavy with irony. “I expect it’ll take me a while to acclimatize.”

  Feeling gauche for not realizing while the heat seemed oppressive to her, it would be nothing like he’d endured in the tropics. Zoe glared at him anyway.

  Damn. She steadfastly refused to take part in any further conversation, scoffing her meal so she could excuse herself and escape.

  Bess’s garden had become a sanctuary for Zoe. A high wooden wall around the yard separated it from the neighbor’s, and Zoe liked nothing better than to potter about weeding or trimming the proliferation of flowers and shrubs abounding there.

  She’d talked to Bess about planting some vegetables, and already had two large pots with seedling herbs beginning to mature.

  I might as well forget the vegetables. She sank onto the bench seat under the large pohutukawa tree. I won’t be around to harvest anything.

  She hunched over and hugged her arms around her stomach, trying to ward off the return of that painful, cold feeling. She could feel it spreading, like freezing ice, seeping into her bloodstream and being carried all around her body. Despite the heat of the day, she shivered.

  Even when he was feigning friendship, Zoe could feel the animosity just oozing from Connor. She wasn’t stupid enough to think he would ever accept her.

  She lashed out at a passing bee with her foot, missing it by a country mile, which didn’t improve her mood. If she’d let Bess tell the family about her, perhaps even met them before Connor had arrived, maybe things would have been different. She swore under her breath, cursing what a fine thing hindsight was. But it’s too late now. Bess and she couldn’t excuse their secrecy, only try to explain it. But would they be believed?

  She hated the possibility of Connor pushing her away, but she couldn’t let Bess get caught between them or put her in a position of having to choose sides between her warring grandchildren. If things looked like they were deteriorating, Zoe would pack up and leave.

  That needn’t be so bad, she consoled herself. Connor might be able to make staying here too unpleasant, but he couldn’t take away her grandmother.

  Brooding, Zoe wasn’t even aware of Connor approaching across the lawn until he plonked himself down beside her. She shimmied away from the trouser-clad leg burning against her bare thigh, but the seat was only small—much too small for her to stay sitting with him so close beside her.

  But if she got up, that would give him the upper hand. He’d think she was scared. That would never do. She gritted her teeth and focused her thoughts away from the warmth of his leg against hers.

  Her eyes popped at the lascivious thoughts sprinting through her mind. Get real, she ordered. He’s off limits. He’s my cousin.

  Turning toward him, she blinked to focus—finding herself so close she could see every pore on his skin. She eased out her breath, hoping he hadn’t heard it get caught in her throat.

  Actually, studying his face in such an abstract way made dismissing those earlier thoughts easy. Her gaze dropped to the shadow of his whiskers making a clearly defined line across his cheek.

  Little scars she’d not noticed before became so obvious she wondered how she’d missed them. There were a bunch under one temple and another along the side of his nose. She frowned, had he been in an accident?

  “This place is much tidier than I expected.” His mouth barely moved when he spoke. “Gran never liked to garden, it was always Grandpop’s job.”

  Was that a chuckle?

  “I wouldn’t have been surprised if it looked like a jungle out here. I’m glad she has someone come in and keep it tidy.”

  Zoe kept quiet. Telling Connor she’d convinced Bess to let the gardener go would only appear as if she was ingratiating herself further into Bess’s life.

  “It’s so different than I remember.”

  At her blank look, he continued, “There was a huge oak tree right there.” He pointed. “They used to have a table underneath and in the summer the four of us ate almost every meal outside.”

  The four of us? Zoe’s attention was captured. “Four of you?” She tried to keep the croak from her voice.

  “I stayed with Gran and Grandpop while I attended university. Their youngest son lived here as well.”

  Zoe tensed, waiting until it appeared Connor wasn’t going to elaborate. Swallowing her animosity, she couldn’t let an opportunity to hear about her father go by, no matter who was sharing the memory. “Was he the one who drowned?”

  “Yes.”

  Damn, say something else, tell me something about him, some perspective Bess wouldn’t have. “How sad,” she murmured inanely.

  Memories must have been churning inside Connor as he jumped to his feet. “A bloody waste of a good man. His going broke Grandpop’s heart. Two good men gone.”

  “What happened?” Zoe dared to ask although she’d read the newspaper article of the incident in the library archives months ago. “Bess just told me he’d drowned.” Zoe bit her lip as cold narrowed eyes swung around to glare at her.

  “What’s it to you? Do you have a morbid fascination with the dead, or something?”

  “N-no, of course not.” Heat rushed into her face. He was my father, she wanted to yell at him. “I-I just…I wouldn’t want to hurt Bess by saying something…”

  Her stammering voice ground to a halt as she covertly eyed Connor stalking around the garden, pausing now and then to look at different things. She was staring up into the pohutakawa tree, trying to calm herself, when he stopped smack in front of her again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Although his voice was stiff, Zoe was amazed to hear him apologize.

  “Uncle Tommy was a great guy, too young to die so needlessly. He had so much to offer. I don’t understand God’s…”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he continued abruptly, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

  Before Zoe could respond, assuming she could have found her voice, he was gone.

  Eventually rousing herself, she sank to her knees and began weeding the proliferation of pansies she’d planted alongside the pathway. She tried to assimilate the Connor she’d been subjected to, up until now, with this emotional man.

  Lying in bed later that night, Zoe replayed Connor’s comments about her father. She’d hesitated to ask Bess questions, sensing her pain when she spoke of her youngest son, but Zoe wanted to know everything she could about him.

  Maybe I can catch Connor in a good mood and ask him about my father again. As soon as the thought arrived, Zoe dismissed it. Somehow the idea of combining Connor, a good mood, and herself together in one place was impossible to contemplate. Unless there was a marked change in his attitu
de, she’d be better off not asking him for anything.

  While she wanted, no, she needed, to find out everything she could about the man who had sired her, Connor wasn’t a likely source—not until he knew Tommy had been her father, anyway.

  Flipping over onto her back in the darkened room, she wrestled again with the frustration of not understanding her mother’s actions.

  ****

  Living under the same roof as her cousin was driving Zoe crazy. Every time she turned around he was beside her, crowding her, talking to her in such a smarmy voice she wished she could kick him.

  To begin with, she’d given him the benefit of the doubt. But his silky avoidance of her questions, even innocuous ones, and his continuing, often hardly veiled sarcasm, soon had her hardening her stance. It was obvious he was trying to edge her out by making her feel so uncomfortable she would voluntarily leave.

  Well good luck to him. She was made of sterner stuff. If he figures the mild rebukes he’s so good at handing out are going to have any effect on me… She would have laughed at his gullibility if he didn’t annoy her so much.

  “I do know what you’re trying to do, you know,” she snapped. He had entered the kitchen and crowded so close beside her she could smell his aftershave. Sidling away she continued scraping potatoes for the evening meal. “It’s never going to work,” she muttered into the sink.

  Bess was at the bowling club so wouldn’t hear if this escalated into a full-blown argument. Gripping the small knife tight she focused on the potato in her other hand, attacking the vegetable with a venom she wished she could use on him.

  “You don’t think so?”

  Connor’s voice held that same smarmy tone she’d grown sick of.

  “I know so.”

  His voice changed, became cold and hard. “I refuse to allow you to continue imposing yourself on my grandmother.”

  “Imposing?” She threw the potato into a pot, mindless of the water splashing up to wet her T-shirt. Zoe swung around to face him, hands fisted on her hips. “How am I imposing, again?” She kept her tone light.

  “Bess is an old lady, she’s lonely, gullible—”

  “Gullible? Your grandmother?” She laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  She stared into his face. “Now lonely…” She got a perverse pleasure in seeing a ruddy color come into his cheeks. “I’d agree she probably did get lonely at times. At least now someone’s around to give her a hand. Be here if she’s sick.”

  “If Gran is in need, she has her family to support her.”

  “Ha. Fat lot of use that is, when they all live so far away. Where was her family when she got the flu last month? She didn’t even tell them she was sick.” She stepped closer, poking herself in the chest. “But I was here. I looked after her. I made sure she took her medication.”

  “So you’ve had to put in a little effort into inveigling yourself into her trust. That doesn’t mean you’re going to con her into keeping you.”

  “Con her? For heaven’s sake, Connor, are you listening to yourself? You’re paranoid. Bess is not keeping me. She never has and she never will. I pay my own way. She’s a wonderful person and I have grown to love her dearly. Why can’t you just accept that?”

  Disgusted with the entreaty that somehow had just jumped out of her mouth, Zoe turned back to the sink and grabbed another potato.

  “Because I don’t believe you.”

  She shrugged; there was nothing she could do about that.

  His hand shot out and grabbed her arm, swinging her around to face him. “You’re lying.”

  Opening her mouth to deny this, she shut it again as he continued. “You’re putting up a front, pretending to be something you’re not.” He spat the words out. “I can see it so clearly…I’m not letting Gran be hurt by some conniving little con artist.”

  “I am not…” She jerked her arm free of his grasp and glared at him. “Oh, what the hell. What do you know?”

  “Oh, I know.” The sudden chill in Connor’s voice made Zoe shiver. “I spent years watching someone con people into believing black was white.” His cold eyes glared at her. “So you see, I can recognize a con when I see one. I want you out of this house by the end of the week. And without any hurtful comments to Gran.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she countered icily.

  “Then I’ll help you on your way.”

  Rage replaced the extreme irritation Zoe had been feeling. Her mouth took off before conscious thought could temper her words. “You and who’s army?” she scoffed. “Why don’t you just piss off and find something else to fill in your long, empty days? Catch some flies and pull off their wings. See if that satisfies your thirst for torment. Or maybe sticking pins in some other little creature is more your style.”

  The silence between them grew as they glared at each other, neither giving an inch.

  She forced her head higher, tilting her chin at him. “Just stay away from me, Connor,” she articulated slowly and succinctly. “The only way I leave this house is if Bess asks me to. You be the one to upset her, ’cause I care too much to hurt her.”

  He grabbed her arm as she turned her back on him. His face was twisted with anger. Although his voice remained quiet, Zoe had to force herself not to shiver at the undertone of contempt. “Listen, you little—”

  Snatching her arm from his grasp, she flared at him. “Don’t touch me.”

  She hated being touched.

  They glared at each other, their bodies inches apart. Trying to check her ragged breathing, Zoe fought to control her temper. Calm. I must stay calm, or he’ll beat me.

  She struggled to tear her gaze away as his pupils widened and his face grew less taut. His breath whispered across her face. Had he leaned closer?

  Her lips parted, the tip of her tongue flicking across their parched surface. Inviting him…

  Caught off guard by the traitorous trail of her thoughts, Zoe spun away and with tremendous effort managed to keep her back straight as she stalked out. Grabbing her helmet from her room, she tore out the front door and headed for her bike.

  She was overlooking Orewa before cold and the stupidity of her actions penetrated her mangled thoughts. Braking to a stop as she exited the motorway, Zoe stared at the goose bumps along her arms and legs. She rubbed her gloved hands across her thighs, trying to warm them.

  He’d certainly got me in a tizzy. She glanced at her watch. I must have ridden like some crazy maniac to arrive at Orewa this quickly.

  She looked across the new subdivisions, toward the sea, without seeing anything. Swearing under her breath, she thumped her clenched fists against her legs.

  She’d been mistaken. She must have been mistaken.

  Her shiver had nothing to do with the coolness of the air. Stop getting carried away, imagining stupid things… She shook her head. Yep, I’m crazy. He wouldn’t lower himself to make a pass at someone like me. Not someone he believes is beneath contempt. He’d been angry, that was all.

  Relieved she’d managed to analyze the problem and find there to be no problem, Zoe released a pent up sigh. His anger she could deal with, no worries.

  Edging into the traffic heading south Zoe cursed the power she’d allowed him to exert over her. She never, ever rode her bike without her leathers. Wouldn’t even have considered going to the dairy on the corner without putting on her protective clothing. And yet here she was, kilometers from home in her board shorts and a skimpy T-shirt. Riding sedately along the slow lane, like a learner driver, Zoe paid careful attention to getting back to Devonport in one piece.

  Bess showed no concern, so Zoe figured Connor had said nothing about their confrontation. But Zoe knew he wouldn’t give up. He was determined to get her out of the house, and out of his grandmother’s life.

  Apart from a muttered “hello” or “good morning,” Zoe ignored Connor, making no further attempt at friendship.

  Her impending exams made things easier. Bess didn’t question the long hours she s
pent in her room. If the car she had begrudgingly helped Connor purchase was visible in the driveway as she approached the house, she would have study to do. If not, she’d spend some time with her grandmother. But even some of those days, she still needed to hit the books. Risking this course wasn’t an option.

  Zoe found herself missing the daily interaction with Bess. Exams would soon be over, but in the meantime, she blamed Connor’s presence for upsetting the closeness they’d found.

  “Is everything all right, Zoe?”

  Stomping through the house had obviously given her grandmother insight into her lousy mood.

  “Sure,” she mumbled. “Everything’s just hunky-dory.”

  Seeing a satisfied smile cross Connor’s face was just too much. She slammed her bedroom door shut and threw her backpack onto her bed.

  Bess’s hushed entry, following a perfunctory knock, was so in contrast to her own lousy mood, her ire rose.

  “Zoe? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Zoe, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” She threw her leather trousers on top of the jacket already scrunched in the corner. “I’m just in a bad mood. That’s all.”

  “Rubbish. You don’t get in bad moods.”

  Sinking onto her bed, she grimaced as Bess sat down beside her. “Ah, but I’ve always been on my best behavior around you.”

  “Hmm, I don’t think so. More likely you previously haven’t had anyone around to annoy you.”

  Zoe’s shoulders slumped as Bess touched her hand.

  “What’s he done? What’s Connor said to upset you?” A fierce expression settled on Bess’s face. “I’ll box that boy’s ears if he—”

  How can I tell Bess the truth? “Connor hasn’t done anything, Gran.”

  “Ha, you expect me to believe that? I might be old, Zoe, but I’m not stupid. The air fairly crackles whenever you two are in the same room. I want to know what he’s said. He promised me―”