[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer

by Serenity Woods

  “Are you okay?” he asked as they reached his car.

  “Fine, thank you.” Polite as strangers again.

  They got into the car, and he started the engine and pulled away.

  “Callie,” he said as he headed out of the city center toward her house, “you realize that when I mentioned I’d bought that stuff for my special someone, I was talking about you, right?”

  He glanced over at her. She’d turned startled eyes to him, eyes that glistened like the sun in the evening sky.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Seriously?” He returned his gaze to the road. “After what we’ve been up to the last few days?”

  “You said it was for ‘a lady who’s been in my heart for a very long time.’”

  He pulled up at some traffic lights and looked at her again. “I think maybe you have. Or the idea of you, anyway.”

  “Why, Gene, that’s a very romantic thing to say on the eve of St. Valentine’s Day.” Her expression had softened, and her eyes had warmed. She’d really thought he’d been referring to someone else.

  It would be stupid to make any declaration of love. Not when he was supposed to be protecting her. And not after only a week. Common sense told him to keep his distance emotionally, even if he couldn’t physically.

  But as he looked into her eyes and she smiled, all he could think was that he was crazy about this woman, and it wasn’t getting any better.

  He pulled up outside her house and left the engine running.

  She studied him for a moment. “Do you want to come in?”

  He wanted that more than anything in the world, but he knew that one of his team was currently sitting outside her house, waiting to take over when he left, and he didn’t want anyone guessing that something was developing between them. And Rowan would be home soon too.

  So he shook his head. “I can’t tonight. I’ve got a few things to do before we leave tomorrow.”

  Disappointment flickered on her features briefly before she smothered it. “Oh, of course. I still feel bad about going away on your birthday. Are you sure you wouldn’t be doing anything? Your family wouldn’t have planned you a surprise party or anything?”

  “I very much doubt that,” he said wryly. He’d be lucky if they even remembered it was his birthday, let alone how old he was. “They know I’d hate that. I’d much rather spend it with you, having dinner.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  She hesitated, and he wondered whether she was expecting him to kiss her goodnight. Fuck. This was awkward. And if the threat on her life increased, it was only going to get worse, because he couldn’t be seen being intimate with her at all. If he had to increase the number of officers shadowing her, it was going to make things very difficult between them if he couldn’t even hold her hand.

  But she turned, opened the door, and got out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, around two o’clock, then?”

  “Sure.”

  She shut the door and walked toward the house.

  He waited until she’d gone in and closed the door. Giving a brief nod to Ian, who was parked across the road in his car, Gene drove away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next day promised rain, the sky heavy with gray thunderclouds, lending a humidity to the air that Callie knew would only get worse as they traveled further north.

  “I think the skies are going to open soon,” Gene observed as they passed the sign for Napier. It had just gone five, and they’d been traveling for a few hours.

  “Hopefully we’ll get to the hotel before it comes down.”

  Their first appointment wasn’t until eight the following morning. It was an early start, but the manager of the largest clothing store in Napier was leaving at nine for a flight to Australia. It was the only time she’d been available to meet on the day, which was the main reason they’d driven up the afternoon before.

  “So,” Callie said as he checked the GPS for directions to the hotel, “are you excited to discover what your birthday present is?” She’d wished him happy birthday when she’d first gotten in the car, and had promised he’d get his present later.

  He glanced at her, his lips curving up. “I think so.”

  “You’ll like it, I promise. A birthday and Valentine’s Day present rolled into one.”

  He returned his gaze to the road, continuing to smile, but she sensed wariness behind it. Not for the first time, doubt flickered inside her. Was he regretting becoming involved with her? His words the night before had been encouraging, but he was so reticent, so withdrawn and private, that it was difficult to know what was on his mind.

  She cleared her throat. “I feel I should make something clear. We had a great time last week, but I’d like to say that if you’ve changed your mind and would rather we held back from a… physical relationship while we are away, I understand.” The fact that he’d not stayed in her room that night still played on her mind, and she didn’t want to assume.

  He glanced at her again, and this time his smile was warmer. “Are you saying you don’t want to sleep with me anymore?”

  “Um, no.” Her face filled with heat.

  He surveyed her reddening cheeks, grinned, then looked back at the road. “Good. Because I have a little Valentine’s Day gift for you, too.”

  Pleasure filled her. “Oh?”

  “Something I bought at Willow’s party.” He looked impish then, and suddenly younger, throwing off all the cares and worries that appeared to weigh heavily on him at times.

  “Oh…” Callie hadn’t asked Neve what he’d bought, not wanting her to be suspicious about them, but now she was intrigued. “What is it?”

  “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

  “I hate surprises,” she grumbled.

  He just laughed. “Too bad.”

  He refused to tell her more, even though she spent the next five minutes badgering him, so in the end she gave up and decided she’d have to wait until later. Together with her own present, it promised to be an exciting evening.

  Gene found the hotel without too much hassle, and he parked outside and they checked in. Rebuilt after an earthquake in 1931, the city boasted some distinctive art deco architecture, and the hotel on the waterfront was a terrific example of this. The front bore the distinctive clear, simple lines associated with Manhattan during this period, and its decor was filled with sunbursts and fountains symbolizing the dawn of a modern age. The foyer boasted a skyscraper mural on one large wall, and when they went up to their rooms, Callie discovered they were decorated in black and gold with the geometric shapes that characterized the period.

  “I’ll call for you at six?” Gene asked her after they’d admired the decor.

  “Okay. See you in a bit.”

  Gene went into his room and closed the door.

  Callie walked into her own room and sat on the bed, feeling a bit flat. Part of her had wondered whether he would suggest they only book one room while they were away. But then, they weren’t a couple, she reminded herself, not yet. Maybe he was the sort of man who liked his own space. Or maybe he didn’t want her to assume anything, not this early on in their relationship. She would just have to wait and see how things developed.

  So she took the opportunity of being alone to shower, slather herself in cream, and sort out his birthday present to be ready for when he hopefully came back to her room at the end of the evening. If he chose not to, well, she’d worry about that then.

  At six o’clock, a knock came at the door, and she answered to see him standing there. As usual, he wore his three-piece suit, apparently intent on remaining professional even on his birthday.

  “Wow.” His gaze slid down her and made her tingle all over. “You look fantastic.”

  “Thank you.” She’d made an effort that evening. Not that she didn’t normally take care of her appearance, but usually she wore comfortable, classic cuts and kept her makeup to muted skin tones. Tonight, though, she wore a sleek little bl
ack number that reached to just above the knee, with thigh-highs and black high heels, and she’d used smoky gray on her eyelids and emphasized her lashes with black mascara. Her dark red lipstick matched the clutch she carried.

  He offered her his arm like Cary Grant. “Shall we?”

  She slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “Yes, let’s. I’m starving.”

  Luckily, Gene had possessed the foresight to book, because as the waitress showed them to their table, she informed them that they were completely booked right up until nine because it was Valentine’s Day.

  Callie flicked through the menu, her eyes going straight to the barbecued ribs, which she adored. She sucked her bottom lip as she debated. There were unspoken rules about what to choose to eat for a romantic meal. Spaghetti, or anything else with sauce that could be flicked or dripped down one’s clothes, was a big no-no. Ribs could never be eaten daintily either, but then it wasn’t as if they were two ordinary lovers, was it?

  “I feel such a fraud,” she said.

  Gene gave her a quizzical look. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Well, we’re not exactly sweethearts, are we? More like…” She’d been about to say fuck-buddies, but the look on his face made the words trail off.

  “I’m sorry I can’t be all hearts and flowers,” he said quietly. “I would like to be, and it’s only what you deserve. It’s really important to me that I stay professional while we’re working together. Just for a while. I hope you can understand that.”

  “Including not sleeping in the same room?”

  He looked pained. “I know that makes me sound like I’m taking advantage of you. I honestly don’t want it to be like that.”

  “Gene, it’s okay. I’m not criticizing. This situation won’t last forever. I know you didn’t want to give in and go to bed with me, and it’s kind of flattering that it happened anyway. But I understand that you want to keep your distance for a while. We can be grown up about this, can’t we? I like you. And you like me. We’re having fun while we’re traveling. For now, isn’t that enough?”

  His lips curved up. “No. But I think it has to be, for now.”

  “That’s fine. It’s more than enough for me to deal with, I can assure you.” She rolled her eyes and studied the menu. “Now, then, what sounds good?”

  “They’ve won lots of awards here,” he said. But when she looked up, he was still watching her, his eyes filled with the affection he couldn’t—for his own reasons—portray.

  As the evening drew on, the restaurant grew busier, but Callie didn’t mind, because the lively, romantic atmosphere made it easier to pretend she and Gene were involved, even if they weren’t.

  The trouble was, it felt as if they were. He might not have held her hand or told her he loved her, but throughout the evening, his gray eyes hardly left her face and they were filled with warm amusement and genuine affection.

  After a whole week where they’d hardly been apart, Callie felt that they were beginning to feel comfortable with each other, and to delve beneath the initial conversations of who liked what music and their favorite foods to deeper issues. They discussed politics for a while, discovering their views were close enough to ensure they were unlikely to argue about many substantial issues. The same was true when it came to religion and family values, both of them having a modern approach, but with an underlying sense of tradition that kept them from wanting to be too revolutionary.

  “I think tradition’s underrated,” she said as she made her way through the barbecued ribs stacked high on her plate, interspersing them with crispy fries and the wonderful chipotle slaw. “As long as you accept that change is a necessary thing, and it’s important not to think that the past is always better than the present, there’s something about traditions—family ones and national ones—that give you a sense of belonging, of roots, don’t you think?”

  “I do. I would love to have had some.” He looked up from cutting his medium-rare Angus fillet steak with blue cheese sauce and laughed.

  “What?”

  “You have barbecue sauce on your cheek.”

  “Of course I do. The better the ribs, the more sauce you have to have on your face.” She wiped delicately at her cheek. “What did you mean, you would love to have had some traditions?”

  He chewed the steak thoughtfully and shrugged. “I can’t think of any family traditions. My folks weren’t keen on that sort of thing.”

  “Oh, come on. You must have. What about dressing the Christmas tree, for example? Everyone has a tradition around that.”

  “Not me.” He speared a carrot with rather more force than was necessary, she thought. “We didn’t have one.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “Why not? Because your mum died?”

  “No, even before then. Dad hated the commercialization of that time of year and said the tree was a British creation he had no intention of following.” Gene had explained that his father disliked being reminded of New Zealand’s European roots and wanted the country to break free from the Commonwealth.

  “Actually, it was a German creation,” Callie pointed out, “but whatever he thought, it seems cruel to take away the pleasure of dressing the tree from your children.”

  “Well, his children’s pleasure was always low on his list.” Gene ate another piece of steak, his expression guarded.

  “And your mum? Did she never contradict your father?”

  “I remember one year, when Freddie and I were small, she baked some tree-shaped cookies for us to decorate with icing. Dad refused to eat any of them.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you have presents?”

  “Yes. But they weren’t left at the bottom of the bed or anything. There was never any attempt to pretend that Santa had delivered them.”

  Callie finished her last rib and dipped her fingers in the bowl of water, rubbing them with lemon. “That makes me sad.”

  “You had a better experience, I presume?”

  She dried her hands and then speared a few fries with her fork. “Yes and no. Dad was in the Army, so we moved around a lot. But we had a Christmas tree, and they kept up the pretense of Santa as long as they could. I didn’t have a bad childhood. I was brokenhearted when my parents broke up.”

  “When was that?”

  “About… ten, eleven years ago now. They’d lived apart for a long time, since I was about seven or eight, I suppose. Mum made the decision to stay in New Zealand with me when Dad was away. She didn’t want me to have to keep switching schools. Plus, of course, she had her own career by then as a lawyer, and she was getting very good at it. She used to go out to visit him, and they seemed quite content with their arrangement—they had their own space, but the security of being married, I suppose. I think she wanted him to leave the Army, but he refused—the Army was his life.”

  “He’s a major, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, although he’s retired now. Anyway, that year he was stationed in Afghanistan. She’d been away visiting him, but I remember her coming home a week early, and she announced she’d left him. I never did find out exactly what happened. There was some sort of accident—she fell down a flight of stairs or something. She looked awful, bruises everywhere. She wouldn’t talk about it. My guess is that it was the straw that broke the lawyer’s back—she needed his support and begged him to leave, and he wouldn’t. So she walked out.”

  Gene ate the last mouthful of steak and pushed his plate away. For a long moment, he was silent.

  Callie raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  He took a long swig of his Diet Coke. She had the strange feeling he was trying to decide whether to tell her something.

  He put down his glass and wiped his mouth on a serviette. “So,” he said. “Dessert?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gene knew he’d paused for too long. Callie was too astute not to notice his hesitation. But she didn’t quiz him, maybe understanding that if he hadn’t caved, it meant he’d decid
ed to keep it to himself.

  Would he ever tell her the truth about what had happened in Afghanistan? He leaned back in his chair as the waitress came to clear their plates, sadness settling over him like a wet mist. He couldn’t shake the feeling that once the truth about everything came out, Callie wouldn’t want to see him.

  He accepted the dessert menu, half wishing he’d told Phoebe that he didn’t take protection jobs himself anymore. As director of the firm, he’d been within his rights to farm out the work to one of his agents, and there were plenty who would have done a great job—a better job than he was doing, he thought gloomily. But he had a soft spot for Phoebe, and he’d been unable to say no to her.

  “Why so sad?” Callie leaned forward on the table. She’d rested her breasts on her forearms, pushing them up in the process. The dress wasn’t low cut, but it gave him a perfect view down her cleavage, and he had to fight not to look at it.

  “Just thinking about the past.”

  “Army life is a strange dichotomy, isn’t it? I would imagine it’s the same in the other defense forces. When you’re away, you can’t wait to get home, and when you’re home, you’re constantly thinking of going back.”

  “Maybe. I don’t miss it, though.”

  “You think you made the right choice leaving?”

  “Oh yes. It’s a good life for a young single man, but as you’ve mentioned, not so great when you get older or have a family.”

  “Would you like to have a family?”

  He smiled. “One day. You?”

  “Oh yes. I think I’d be a terrible mum, though. I’d never remember their lunches, and I’d forget to pick them up from school.”

  “You’d make a great mum,” he said, meaning it. The thought of Callie curled up beside him, pregnant with his child, gave him goosebumps.

  She looked into her glass of wine for a moment, and he watched as a light blush filled her cheeks. She was so gorgeous. He wished he could lean forward and press his lips to hers.

  She glanced to one side as a movement a few tables across caught her eye, and she smiled. He followed her gaze to see a guy lowering down to one knee as he proposed to his girlfriend. The young woman pressed her fingers to her lips and burst into tears, nodding furiously. Everyone around the restaurant cheered, and the guy stood, his face bright red and beaming.