Sweet Talk Boxed Set (Ten NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes Research plus BONUS Novel)

by Novak, Brenda

  “Whose car would she drive?” his mother asked. He had to move out of her way again as she headed from the island to the oven. “They were collected in the van, of course. A couple of lovely Irish boys in there, too, that I booked into the show today as well. They’ll have a good crowd for it, I’m thinking.”

  His grandmother had filled a pot with water and was beginning to lift it from the sink, so Will took it from her and set it on the stove.

  Kuia looked at him and sighed. “You have two choices. Get out of the way so your mum and I can get dinner on, or go on and join them for the hangi, if you’re worried.”

  “I’m not worried. Just surprised, that’s all, that she went without me.”

  His grandmother stood with her hand on her hip and scrutinized him, and Will fought the urge to shuffle his feet. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you,” she said, “but I know what your Koro would have said. You want her? Go and get her.”

  “I’m not—” he began, then broke off, because he didn’t know how that sentence ended. “Right,” he said instead. “I’m off.”

  It made sense anyway, he told himself as he drove the fifteen kilometers around the lake and took the turning to the Kupe Maori Village. If he were meant to be the besotted boyfriend, surely he wouldn’t be sending his partner off on her own for the evening during their brief time together. Yeh, that was it. It made total sense.

  He walked across the carpark, opened the door, and entered a broad hall thrown up in a hurry and meant to look the opposite, like it belonged on a marae. Its wooden beams were painted with Maori designs, and there was a fairly crude wooden carving of a god in each corner. There must have been 150 people seated at round tables holding ten diners apiece, all eating the meal their hosts had roasted for them in the earthen pit. Doing the Rotorua tourist thing.

  Now that he was here, he was beginning to feel stupid, especially as he wandered around looking for her. How was he going to explain this? And then he found her, and didn’t feel nearly so stupid.

  She and Talia were sitting near the front of the room, at a table with two older couples who were talking to each other, because all the younger people were busy. Talia was focused on some bloke who was sitting between her and Faith, a bloke who had his arm over the back of Talia’s chair and was leaning in farther than Will felt happy about. Faith should have been doing something about that, but she wasn’t, because she was laughing and talking herself. To three men.

  All of them looked to be hanging on her every word. The lovely Irish boys, Will assumed. Of course they were interested in what she had to say, because she was wearing the short, swingy gray skirt and red jersey she’d had on when he’d met her at the airport, which was more than a bit tight for the occasion, wasn’t it? He could tell the lovely boys thought so.

  There wasn’t room at the table for Will, but he didn’t let that stop him. He went to the back of the room again, grabbed a chair, and hauled it up to the table, which was when she noticed him at last, and looked nothing but surprised.

  “Sorry I missed you, darling,” he told her. “And the show, too, of course. Got here as quickly as I could. D’you mind?” he asked the fella next to her, who was sitting back now and looking startled, as well he might.

  “Of course,” he said, and the three fellas shoved over, and Will pushed his chair on in there and sat down. He gave Faith a kiss while he did it, just in case any of the lovely boys was still unclear on the state of things.

  “Why are you here?” she hissed at him the moment his mouth left hers, because she could tell how he was feeling, he could tell.

  “Wanted to see my girlfriend, didn’t I. Who’s that?” he asked with a nod towards Talia’s companion, who had taken his arm off her chair now, at least.

  “Tell you later,” she said, but it wasn’t necessary, because Will had caught the young man’s eye.

  “Evening, Will,” the boy said as if he knew him, with a cocky edge that Will didn’t care for one bit. “You missed our show.”

  “This is Chaz,” Talia said. “He’s one of the performers here.”

  “And a friend of Talia’s,” Faith said brightly. “A school friend, except not exactly, because you’re out of school now, is that right, Chaz?”

  “Yeh,” he said. “I’m done with that. A man needs to be earning the dosh, eh, and I do all right.”

  “Was this the first time you’d seen him do his routine, Talia?” Faith asked.

  “It’s not a routine,” Chaz said. “It’s a performance.”

  “Oh, excuse me,” Faith said. “Is there a difference?”

  “What is it you do here, during your…routine?” Will asked, choosing the word deliberately.

  “I use the taiaha,” Chaz said, getting some of the swagger back. “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” He laughed and exchanged a look with the Irish blokes. “Or don’t speak softly and use my big stick. I like that one, too.”

  “He’s good,” Talia hastened to tell her brother. “You should have seen him.”

  “Course I’m good,” Chaz said. “Wouldn’t be here otherwise.” He lunged forward suddenly, eyes staring, mouth stretched in a grimace, tongue reaching nearly to his chin. “Hah!”

  You could call it a wee bit more performance, or you could call it a challenge. Will knew which one it was. Faith jumped, the Irish blokes laughed, and Will sat solid and stared Chaz down.

  “Not saying I’m the best.” Chaz sat back again and went for breezy unconcern. “But I’m not bad. It’s not easy, the taiaha.”

  “Will knows that. He knows taiaha himself,” Talia said, her eyes flying to Will’s.

  “Everybody knows it,” Chaz said. “But doing it as a game when you’re a kid, that isn’t the same thing. That’s not combat, eh. I just might be able to kick your arse,” he told Will. “You never know.”

  “You might.” Will kept his voice even. “And I might be able to kick yours.”

  No maybe about it. There had been nobody better than Koro, and Koro had taught Will. Some of the deftness of Will’s handling on the paddock wasn’t just from growing up holding a rugby ball, it was from the practice he’d had with the ancient skills. Anyway, when you got down to it, it wasn’t about poncing about and looking good for tourists. It was about the will to win. If this arrogant little prat had half as much of that as Will did, he’d be surprised. What was he doing with his sister, and why had Faith brought her here to see him? He was burning to find out both things.

  “You about ready to go?” he asked Faith, because one thing was certain. She wasn’t spending another minute with the Irish boys.

  She looked startled, but she and Talia seemed to be done eating to him, and he wanted them both out of there.

  “I guess,” she said. “Talia?”

  “I want to stay,” Talia said. “It’s not over yet, and I can get a ride home in the van.” She glanced at Chaz. Or you can drive me, Will could almost hear her say, and that was happening over his dead body.

  “Your big brother wants you to run along,” Chaz said. “Thinks you can’t handle yourself, maybe.”

  “Yeh,” Will said. “I do. Want her to run along, that is.” He stood up, took Faith’s coat off the back of her chair, and held it for her. “You can tell their van driver,” he told Chaz, “that I took them home.”

  Talia shot him a look like thunder, opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again. Too accustomed to respect for her elders to make a scene, to Will’s relief, but on the other hand, she was still sitting down.

  Faith stood up, though, to Will’s deep satisfaction, and told the Irish blokes, “Very nice to have met you. Enjoy your stay.”

  “Yeh,” the one who’d been sitting next to her, a big red-headed fella, said. “You too.”

  Talia gave Chaz one more look, leaned close to whisper something in his ear, then stood up and shoved her coat on, her movements jerky, and Will let out a breath. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if she’d refused. And now
, Faith was going home with him. The way it should be.

  Conduct Unbecoming

  “All right,” Faith said to Will. “What was that all about?” Had it just been Talia? Or had it been something else, too?

  They were finally alone again. Talia had gone straight up to her room the minute they’d gotten home, and all Faith’s efforts to befriend the girl looked to have been in vain, because the atmosphere in the car had been thick with tension the entire way. Faith had done her best to draw Talia out about the evening’s entertainment, to get her to describe it to her brother, but without much success.

  “What?” Will had shed his jacket and was leaning into the refrigerator, pulling out containers.

  “Are you telling me you didn’t even eat? That you rushed over there to…what?”

  “Could’ve told me you wanted to go to a concert.” He dished shellfish and vegetables onto a plate and shoved it into the microwave without bothering to cover it. “I’d have taken you.”

  “That’s nice, but maybe I thought I’d spare you one tourist activity, at least. I can’t believe that you’d need to go see how the Maori welcome people to the marae, or how they fought. Something tells me that you already know.”

  He shrugged. “We’re meant to be together, aren’t we. People may think we’re having problems if you turn up without me.”

  “I was with your sister. I’d say that looks pretty convincing, girlfriend-wise. If anybody cares, that is, because I haven’t exactly noticed any paparazzi lurking in trees to take my picture. Those few photos in the paper, a couple column inches, and that’s been it. I hope it’s going to be enough.”

  “Good job there weren’t any journos about tonight,” he said, sitting down at the counter and starting in on his dinner. “They’d have had a story then.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You’re…Will. You weren’t…” She’d wondered, but really? “You weren’t jealous, were you?”

  “Nah,” he said, concentrating on his meal. “Course not. Why would I be jealous?”

  “You were.” She shouldn’t be pleased. Jealousy wasn’t actually a good thing. Except that it kind of felt like it. “You totally were. When you showed up…you looked scarier than any of those warriors. I thought it was because of Talia. What was I going to do, run away with some Irish guy?”

  “Looked pretty friendly to me,” he muttered.

  “Oh,” she said, feeling ridiculously cheerful, “it was. We were getting very friendly. I was asking them about their trip so far. It was some pretty sexy stuff. Good thing you showed up when you did, because we were about to take off in their campervan. Me and my three guys.” She sighed. “Seems I get more adventurous every day. The craving…it burns.”

  He laughed, although it sounded fairly reluctant. “All right. Maybe it was a bit…”

  “Stupid?” she suggested. “Unbecomingly possessive?”

  “Aw, really?” he complained. “Unbecomingly?”

  “Well,” she admitted, “maybe not. Maybe it was the teeniest bit hot, having my big strong warrior show up and claim me.”

  She’d meant it as a joke, but she got a little shiver as she said it. That was exactly what he’d looked like, when she’d turned at the touch of his hand on her shoulder and seen him standing there looking so fierce, as if he’d wanted to pick her up and carry her out. When he’d stood up and told her they were leaving…she’d been ready to go. Except, of course, for Talia.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “Happy to claim you anytime.” And that was hot, too, even if he was just doing his sexy, teasing Will-thing.

  “For the record,” she told him, “here is what we did. We rode in a van. We learned some history—well, I did, since Talia presumably knew all that already. We saw some weapons practice. We heard some songs. We watched some Maori guys looking really fierce. It was all very educational, and I enjoyed it. Oh, and we ate. So, much as I appreciate you protecting my honor, it probably wasn’t necessary. I was probably going to be able to restrain myself, and beat them off, too.”

  “Good,” he said with obvious satisfaction. “But you should’ve beat that dickhead Chaz off while you were at it. What was that about? Taking my sister to meet some…some…”

  “Yes,” she said. “Exactly. I was thinking at first that it was bad that you’d come, that you’d made him seem even sexier, forbidden love and all that. But on the other hand, you got him being a jerk, which was the point. My mother was right, but then, she usually is.”

  He blinked at her. “Your mother? What?”

  “An idea she had,” Faith explained. “That’s why I went there with Talia, to try to…bridge the gap. Make her see him differently, if what I thought was happening was really happening, and I think it is.”

  “I’d pretend to understand all that,” he said, “but all I get is the forbidden love part. What is that bloke? Twenty-seven?”

  She smiled a little despite her concern. “Nineteen. What age are your sisters when they’re allowed to date? I mean, go out with a boy alone?”

  “Dunno. I was gone, wasn’t I. And I’ll be gone again in a few days. Not sure what to do about it. Know what I’d like to do, but that’d probably be the forbidden love thing again.”

  “What, if you beat him up? Yeah, counterproductive, I’d say. Besides, she isn’t the first girl to have a crush on an unsuitable older guy, and that’s probably all it is.”

  “Hope so.” He got up to put his dishes away. “But it’s a problem for tomorrow, I guess. Talk to her then, d’you reckon?”

  “Probably better. When she’s calm, and you are, too, because calm’s important. It would be good for her to talk to her family more in general, I think.” She hesitated. “If you want my opinion.”

  “I want your opinion.”

  “Then here it is. I think maybe she’s feeling a little…a little distant. A little alienated from her family, and that she’s looking to her friends for what she isn’t getting. To that guy, especially, and that’s dangerous. I don’t think she’s very far down the road, but I think that’s where she’s going.”

  “Maybe talk to my mum, too, then, find out what the rules are, see what she thinks.”

  “Maybe. If you’re careful not to just have them bring the hammer down.”

  “Huh. The hammer.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I’m rubbish at this. I’ll think about it some more tomorrow, I guess.” He leaned against the counter and looked at her. “For now, though…I think we should go to bed.”

  And just like that, with the way he said it, the way he was looking at her, the mood changed again.

  He wasn’t really her boyfriend, though. He hadn’t really come to carry her away in a fit of possessiveness, and this was an arrangement. An arrangement she had every intention of continuing exactly the way it was, because anything else was impossible.

  ***

  He waited, his heart beating a little harder, and she stood up and actually dusted her palms together, then yawned behind her hand. “Yep. Bedtime for me, too. Super tired.”

  Was it his imagination, or was she overdoing it? “So…” he said. “You want to go on up, have me give you fifteen minutes? We haven’t gone to bed together before. So to speak.”

  “It’s getting a little silly, isn’t it?” she said, and he was definitely having some breathing issues now. “I mean, pretending like we can’t resist each other,” she hurried on. “Why shouldn’t we be able to go up there together and get ready for bed? We’re two adults.”

  That was the problem, as far as he was concerned. “Of course,” he said, because there was no way he was saying anything else. “I can get ready for bed with you.”

  He walked upstairs behind her, turning off lights along the way. Nothing had changed, he reminded himself as he shut the bedroom door, went to the closet, and hung up his jacket. He got distracted all the same, though, when she took off her earrings and laid them on the bedside table, then began to unfasten her necklace. She was clearly struggling with
it, and when she uttered a little exclamation of annoyance, he was obligated to help her, wasn’t he?

  “Here.” He came to stand behind her, pushed the hair aside so he could reach the clasp, then took the delicate, fiddly silver thing in his hands and worked at it until it released. A shiver ran over her skin as he did it, the gooseflesh pebbling under his fingers, and he almost bent and kissed her nape, there where she was so soft and vulnerable. Almost.

  He caught himself in time, handed her the necklace, then went back around to his side, where he pulled his shirt over his head, reached into the drawer of his nightstand for a muscle tee, and saw her watching him do it, because he was watching her, too. Pity that her jewelry was still the only thing she had taken off.

  “It’s a bit like being married, isn’t it?” he said. “Getting ready for bed together without any moves. I’m not used to it.”

  “I’ll be unconscious again in about twenty minutes.” She seemed to shake herself out of whatever thought she’d fallen into, grabbed her pajamas out of her own drawer, and went to the closet for her dressing gown. “No need to worry about those unaccustomed thoughts.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her that he wasn’t worried, already kicking himself for making any reference to his past, but she was already gone. Almost as if she didn’t trust herself to stay, whatever she had said.

  Sure enough, when he came out of the bathroom after getting ready for bed himself, she had her light off, the line of pillows marching down the bed like good little soldiers, and was turned away from his side with her eyes closed.

  He slid into bed and switched off his light, shoved his hands behind his head, and stared into the darkness for a minute.

  “You know,” he said at last, because he could tell she wasn’t asleep, “if we were really married, I could roll over and give you a kiss good-night. We could do it now, take just the top pillow away, since we’re working on pretending and all, need to keep ourselves motivated. What is it they call that in the States? First base?”

  “Maybe in the 1950s they did. And I think we’re all good, pretending-wise. But that would be all I’d get?” He heard the rustle as she rolled over to face his side. “As your non-wife, I have to say, that’s pretty disappointing.”