Mr. Unforgettable

by Karina Bliss

  “I didn’t reform you,” she protested. “You corrupted me.”

  His hold tightened. “So how about showing me what you learned before Maddie wakes up from her afternoon nap?”

  He expected her to say no, they were in the middle of revising a new business plan for their other baby, the Waterview Hotel, and papers were spread across the dining room.

  Instead she whispered huskily in his ear, “Clear the table.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  LIZ’S CANCELLATION annoyed Luke. But his disappointment annoyed him more.

  He hadn’t anticipated her offer of help, but he’d been ridiculously pleased and—okay—relieved when she’d made it. He didn’t like the niggle of doubt he felt every time Liz made an excuse not to visit camp. Luke liked her; he wanted that to be uncomplicated. Because if it was uncomplicated he might reconsider acting on their attraction.

  He looked at her text message again. The cavalry? What the hell did that mean?

  Shoving the cell phone back in his tool belt, he positioned the new bunk and hauled over another assembly kit, trying not to think about the twenty-five bunks still boxed in the other dorm.

  Rosie stuck her head around the door. “I picked up the extra brushes…any more recruits arrive?”

  “Delores Jackson.” He knew she was there to snoop, but he’d decided beggars couldn’t be choosers. She was supposed to be cleaning windows, but last time he’d checked he’d found her inspecting one of the storerooms. Unrepentant, she’d commented, “Four-ply toilet paper—no wonder you’re over budget.”

  He’d probably kill her before the day was over.

  “And unfortunately,” he added, “we also lost another couple of staff to the bad steak pie.” Thank God he hadn’t been here for lunch or he’d be sick as well. Now it was all down to him and the vegetarians.

  Rosie’s face fell. “Rats, that cancels out the two I recruited in town.”

  One step forward, three steps back. Luke feigned cheerfulness. “More will show up.”

  Her expression told him she didn’t buy the Little Miss Sunshine act, either. “I’d better get back to painting.” At the door, she paused. “Do you know Mayor Light very well?”

  As well as she wants me to. Luke laid out the frame of another bunk. “Yeah, she’s one of us.” I think.

  He meant a camp supporter but realized they were talking at cross-purposes when Rosie frowned. “That’s surprising. I got the impression she’d been keeping her past a secret.”

  Intrigued, Luke put down the pieces of wood. “You know her?”

  “Yeah. She almost talked me out of it but Beth always had this gesture when she was nervous and trying not to show it—”

  “Beth?”

  “Elizabeth. We called her Beth.”

  Beth…Elizabeth…Liz. “Go on.”

  “She grips one hand at the wrist with the other. Like this.” Rose showed him and Luke recognized the gesture. Liz had used it a lot since she’d realized she was attracted to him. “What do you mean, ‘she nearly talked you out of it’?”

  “She pretended she didn’t know me.”

  “Okay, now I’m really confused. How do you know her?”

  Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “You said you knew she was one of us?”

  Understanding finally dawned. “You mean…”

  “Yes. She and I were in a foster home together.”

  Councillor Bray stuck his head in the door. “Where do you want us?” As Luke stared at him, he added impatiently, “Come on, man, we haven’t got all day.”

  AT NINE the next evening, Liz sat in her car in Luke’s driveway, engine idling, and considered her options. There weren’t any.

  She had to learn to swim—Kirsty had snowballed the event into a major fund-raiser for schools. All the kids were getting sponsors and a local radio station was putting up ten dollars for every meter Liz swam. Reluctantly she turned off the ignition and got her kit from the trunk.

  But did Luke still want to teach her?

  Or was he another in a long line of people she’d disappointed by not showing up yesterday.

  That morning Snowy had beamed benevolently from the front page of the Chronicle, his white hair haloed by the sun streaming in the window behind him as he made the camp beds. Snowy and the Seventy Duvets was the headline.

  Kirsty was furious. “‘Altruistic mayoral candidate, Snowy Patterson’…bullshit! Where the hell were you?”

  “I wasn’t feeling well, I had to go home.”

  Kirsty had immediately apologized. “Sorry, but it’s not fair. You did all the organizing and Snowy takes all the credit.”

  Others weren’t so understanding.

  “You looked well enough when you were asking for volunteers,” Maxwell had said acidly. He’d been photographed with a toilet brush and wasn’t happy.

  Liz’s allies on council had also felt let down. “Even if you’d taken a couple of painkillers, showed your face for half an hour and then gone home,” Susan Blackmore had confided in the cafeteria. “Snowy won some serious brownie points by default.”

  It had been a hard day, bracketed by two sleepless nights, but the worst was still ahead. Steeling herself, Liz knocked on the door.

  “It’s open,” Luke called. She found him in the pool, a splashing shape in the deep twilight. A wash of lazy jazz spilled out of the speakers. “Mind putting the pool lights on?”

  Liz flicked the switch and the water shimmered into viridescent relief. Cast into shadow, his expression was impossible to read. “Thought I’d get some training in while I waited. Come on in.”

  “Oh. Sure.” Self-consciously, Liz slipped off the tracksuit covering her lime bathing suit. Should she mention yesterday first? As she hesitated, her left foot caught in the pants and she grabbed the back of a deck chair.

  “Are you too tired for this, Liz?”

  God, yes, to the bone. “No, I’m fine…you?”

  “I’ve always been a night owl. It’s the early mornings that kill me.”

  She stepped down into the bright water, barely cooler than the sultry summer night. In one corner of the courtyard, a shrub bloomed among the tropical plants. Cestrum nocturnum, Queen of the Night, its small, trumpet-shaped white flowers only released their heady perfume after dark.

  Luke picked up the flutter board at the pool’s edge and green light stippled the broken surface of the water and dappled his pectorals.

  “Today’s lesson is about trust.”

  Liz sank a little lower in the water. Mentally, morally and politically she supported the camp but emotionally she was a traitor.

  Luke tossed the flutter board aside. “Trusting yourself. I want you to do torpedoes—arms stretched out in front, kicking and holding your breath—without using a board.”

  “But that’s going backward.” Using the flutter board, she’d already advanced to turning her head to the side and taking big breaths. The next stage was adding the arm movements she’d been practicing independently. The book said so. “Losing the flutter board comes last, surely?”

  “Think of this as a confidence check.”

  “My confidence is fine.”

  “You always look confident,” he agreed. “But we won’t know for sure until we take away the buoyancy aid. And I’d rather test that now while we still have time to make adjustments.”

  “I’m…sorry I didn’t make it yesterday by the way.” There, she’d said it.

  “Hey, you more than did your part. Councillor Maxwell told me you were the recruiting officer. Of course, he was complaining about you not showing up, but later I heard you weren’t feeling well.” His voice was very gentle. “Sure you’re okay now?”

  She hadn’t been sick and didn’t deserve his sympathy. “I’m fine,” she said abruptly. “Let’s do this.”

  The water rippled as Luke moved closer. In the luminous green half light his irises were a shifting, shimmering gray.

  “When you’re ready.”

  She took a deep br
eath and launched herself forward, her fingers automatically grappling for the board and not finding it. In a panic she stopped kicking and stood up. “I’m sinking.”

  “You’re not.”

  Liz tried again. Again the fear sent her stumbling to the surface after a few kicks. Breathing hard, she faced him. “This is ridiculous. I still need the flutter board.”

  “Not for this, you don’t.”

  What did he want from her, this man? Didn’t he know how hard she tried? Didn’t everybody know how hard she bloody tried? “This isn’t building my confidence, it’s undermining it,” she snapped. “We only have five lessons and two weeks of daily swimming practice to get this right.”

  “And you’re doing really well,” he soothed. “All credit to you, Liz, I didn’t think you could do it. You’re a gutsy woman.”

  “Damn right I am. You think this is easy?”

  She was near tears and didn’t know why. He was being so kind. And then suddenly she did know why. Liz got out of the pool, wrapped herself in a towel.

  “Rosie told you, didn’t she? Who I was.”

  Who I was? That bothered Luke. Why was this woman disowning a past that only made her achievements more impressive? “Yes.”

  She looked down at him, her expression cool. Her pale hair, darkened to the color of wet sand, dripped water over her tense bare shoulders and made splotches on the burgundy towel.

  “If you want details, you’re going to be disappointed,” she said crisply. “I don’t discuss my childhood.”

  Yesterday he might have called her withdrawal coldness. “Did Harry know?”

  The temperature plummeted below zero. “He respected my decision not to talk about it.”

  A mistake, Luke thought, but kept that opinion to himself. “You know we have a similar background?” He’d shared a sanitized version with Jo Swann of the Beacon Bay Chronicle yesterday and the article had appeared next to the picture of Saint Snowy.

  “Yes, I read it.” Her lip curled. “Maybe I should do the same, it might win me a few pity votes.”

  “That was my motivation,” he said evenly. “Might as well screw some benefit from a shitty childhood.”

  Liz stumbled to a chair and sat down. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “What have you been telling people all these years?”

  “Only child, both parents dead…Adopt a tragic expression and they back off pretty quickly.”

  Now he understood her ambivalence about the camp—it was a skeleton on her doorstep. “No wonder you never accepted an invitation to visit.”

  But she wasn’t listening. “Who else has Rosie told?”

  “No one.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m a private person and I want to stay that way. No pity votes.”

  “Rosie won’t tell anyone else.” He lifted himself to sit at the side of the pool, feet dangling in the water. “You know, Camp Chance is very different from the institutions we grew up in. Let me show you, Liz.”

  But she was already shaking her head. “You deal with the past your way,” she said. “I’ll deal with it in mine. And I choose to forget.”

  “But you don’t forget,” he said softly. “Do you?”

  She clasped her wrist. “Can we get back to the swimming lesson now?”

  “Of course.” Luke let the subject drop.

  Liz got into the pool and started practicing with a terrified determination that was painful to watch. Knowing better than to interfere, he made comments where necessary, occasionally jumping in to correct her body position, mostly sitting on the side, watching her.

  Beth had kept to herself, Rosie had said. One of those kids who got noticed by being quiet, being good. Luke had been a troublemaker himself—it had certainly got him attention, too. The wrong kind. His thoughts became bleak, so he refocused on Liz, who was readying herself for another torpedo.

  Already too slim, she’d lost another couple of pounds, due more, he suspected, to a punishing schedule than daily swim practice. He made a mental note to buy some energy bars…get some food into her.

  She got to the other end and stood up, turned to him relieved. “I did it.”

  “I think we should increase the lessons to three times a week.” Making the deadline would be touch-and-go, but if anyone could do it, Liz could.

  When he hauled her out of the water, she kept hold of his hand. “Are we back on track?” she said. Luke knew what she was really asking.

  Her breasts were still heaving from her recent exertion, the nipples clearly outlined under the wet Lycra. Luke picked up her towel and wrapped her in it. She needed a friend more than she needed a lover. “Yeah, Liz, we’re back on track.”

  She stiffened. “I don’t want your pity, either.”

  “That’s good because this chess game is a decider and I have no intention of going easy on you.”

  “You want to play now?”

  They needed to normalize their relationship, so he ignored the dark circles under her eyes, the sway of exhaustion. “That’s our deal, isn’t it?”

  A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I’ll get dressed.”

  THE PHONE RANG while he was setting up the board. Luke glanced at the clock. Ten-fifteen. Only one person called at this time of night.

  “Hey, Jord, welcome back.”

  “What’s this bullshit about not wanting our help?”

  “So how was the food…the in-flight movie?”

  “We’re coming down in the morning…and no arguments.”

  Luke stopped teasing. “I don’t need you…it’s sorted. Social Services approved the facility this afternoon.” It occurred to him that organizing volunteers was the second kindness the mayor had done him in her quiet way. He resisted favors…the obligation they implied; yet she kept sneaking under the radar.

  “So the trial run can go ahead as planned?”

  “Yeah, fifty kids arrive Sunday…right about the time you touch down in the Cooks Islands as a married man.”

  That gave Jordan pause. “Wow,” he said. “You’re right. I’ve been so damn busy with work and wedding preparations, it hadn’t registered.” Another silence.

  “Luke?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “The thought doesn’t scare me. Tell me I haven’t grown up.”

  Nostalgia bit deep. “Okay,” he said, “I won’t tell you.” The first time Luke had seen Jordan, he’d been doing chin-ups over a ceiling joist in a student bar—eighteen years old, cocky, wild and good-humored. Luke’s swimmer’s shoulders had won him that contest, but Jordan had wasted him in the drinking game that followed it.

  “Kate’s refusing to see me this week…She’s had this ‘no sex’ policy in place for a fortnight…some bridal-torture thing.”

  “My heart bleeds for you,” said Luke. “You know how long it’s been for me?”

  “Hey, Christian and I have been trying to set you up with a good woman…you keep turning them down.”

  “That’s because I don’t want a good woman, I want a bad one. Introduce me to all the commitment-phobic hotties you used to date.”

  “I’ve ruined them for other men. Seriously, Kate has this amazing friend—” “Jord, you and Christian have got to let this matchmaking mania go. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Okay, I was saving this as a last resort…but you know my sister has always had a crush on you.”

  “I’m going to hang up now.”

  “No, wait.” The banter went out of Jordan’s voice. “You’re alone too much these days, we’re concerned you’re turning into a hermit.”

  “No, I’m not.” Impatiently Luke turned away from the window, saw Liz sitting in front of the chess set. How long had she been there? “As a matter of fact, I’ve got company—female company—right now.”

  “Blow-up dolls don’t count.”

  He handed the phone to Liz. “Do me a favor and say hello to my partner Jordan.

  Gingerly, Liz took the phone. “Hello?”
>
  A male voice said, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” It occurred to her that this guy could be useful. “Say, do you know Luke’s weaknesses in chess?”

  “Well, yeah, he always—”

  Luke wrenched the phone from her grasp. “Oh, no you don’t.” He walked into the kitchen with the phone. Smiling, Liz finished laying out the chess pieces.

  “No, we’re not sleeping together,” she heard him say in a low voice and tried to concentrate on her first move. “She’s a friend who happens to be a girl…a difficult concept for you, I know.” He came back and handed her a chocolate bar. “Her name?”

  He looked down at Liz, a question in his eyes. Unwrapping the bar, she shook her head. “Frederica.” He winked at her. “Fred for short. What does she look like?” The twinkle in his eyes became a spark. “Brown eyes, blond.” His expression tightened and he turned away. “Yeah, I know I swore off blondes after Amanda, but like I said we’re just friends…. Fine, don’t believe—” He stopped. “Hang on a second, Jord?”

  Putting his hand over the receiver, he turned back to Liz. “Ignore everything I’m about to say.”

  He took his hand away. “No pulling the wool over your eyes, is there, mate? Yep, that’s the reason I haven’t been spending weekends in Auckland the past couple of months…too soon to say if it’s serious. Listen, I was thinking of bringing her to the wedding…”

  Liz choked on her chocolate and he waved a reassuring hand.

  “So don’t you and Christian go fixing me up with anyone, will you? She’s got a jealous streak…Uh-huh. Okay, well, she’s waiting for me in bed, so I have to go…oh, the chess?”

  He looked at Liz and shrugged as much as to say, might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. “It’s a kinky game we play. Remind me to tell you and Kate the rules sometime. Your sex life’s gonna need spicing up when you’re an old married couple…Uh-huh, I love you, too…See you Friday night at the stag.”

  He rang off. “Don’t panic, I’m not expecting you to.” For an unreal moment Liz pictured bed and kinky chess, then realized Luke was talking about the wedding. He sat down at the board. “But this will stop them from lining up Ms. Rights on the day.”