by Meg Buchanan
“You want to spend the time with me?”
He nodded and leaned back and kissed her. “I want to spend all my life with you.”
She considered him for a moment. He wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with him. They had so little time before he left it seemed silly to waste a day of it.
“I could leave the same day you do,” she said tentatively. “Is there a flight on Thursday?” She slid her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “I want to spend all the time I can with you before we have to say goodbye.”
“I’ll make it perfect,” he promised. “I’ll love you goodbye.”
She rested her cheek against his. “That is so romantic.”
He grinned. “It is, isn’t it? I didn’t know I had it in me.” He turned back to the computer to change the booking to Thursday, just a few hours before he had to leave with Stadium. “When do we start this loving goodbye?”
“Right now.” She slid onto his lap.
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “With Mason just around the corner gunning for us?”
She nodded. “Perhaps we should wait until we are safe.” She slid back off him.
“Good idea. Let’s pack and get out of here,” said Adam.
Within twenty minutes they were in his car and driving out of town. He still felt shocked by what he’d seen in the wardrobe. The hate and violence it would have taken to destroy everything was still horrifying. He wanted to get Geneviève as far away from that as possible. It hadn’t taken long to pack and let the others know what they were doing.
He hadn’t been sure what to do about Keira and Tessa. But Tessa said if Mason came near them they’d call the police. With the mother she had, she’d dealt with that sort of shit before. So at least they were aware there could be a problem.
He glanced at Geneviève sitting beside him in her hood rat clothes. She’d seemed nervous right up until they left the flat and started to drive out of town. Now she seemed a little more relaxed.
The first thing she did when she left Mason was take cash out of their accounts. That had been very cool thinking on her part. But the money wouldn’t last forever so when Geneviève tried to give him the cash to cover the cost of her flights she wouldn’t have a lot left.
“Pay me back some other time,” he said. “I can’t leave you with no money.”
She shrugged. “Once I am home it won’t matter.”
He guessed her parents would help her. His job was to get her safely on that plane. “Keep it anyway. You don’t know what might happen.”
“Thank you.” Geneviève had closed her purse.
“You knew Mason would make it impossible for you to have access to the accounts if you left him, didn’t you?” he asked.
Geneviève nodded. “Money is very important to him. He would have closed the accounts or whatever he did before he even started looking for me.”
Arsehole, he thought.
As they drove along a little longer, Geneviève sat lost in thought.
“Do you want to listen to music?” he asked.
She nodded.
He picked up his phone and rested it against the steering wheel.
“Anything you especially like?” He didn’t know a bloody thing about her. Except she was beautiful, was frightened, and liked sex.
She shook her head, so he told Siri to play his playlist. He had eclectic taste in music, there should be something there she liked.
They drove on to Morrinsville, the music in the background, Geneviève watching the farmland go by.
Then ‘Stay the Night’ came on. An old song by Route 66. He hummed along.
“Please just stay with me tonight.”
“You don’t really need to go,”
He’d always liked the words of this song. No strings, just a night of love and then leaving without looking back. He sang quietly to the end of the verse.
“We can love until tomorrow.
If we only have the night.”
And he liked the way the writer had structured it too, the verse quiet and thoughtful, then a powerful chorus that rose to a crescendo.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“Stay until it’s light.”
He could feel the power of the singer’s voice as the words ascended out through the speakers.
“If I wake and you are leaving.
At least we had tonight.”
‘That’s a terrible song,” said Geneviève suddenly.
“Why? I like it.” It sounded like something he’d like to be able to do. Turned out he couldn’t, he always got attached to anyone he slept with.
She swivelled in her seat again to look at him. Eyebrows drawn together.
“All he wants is sex. He doesn’t say he loves her. He doesn’t say it’s her he wants especially. He wants her to hop in bed with him and have sex because he’s lonely.”
“Maybe he wants to be friends.”
“Pfft,” she said. “Friends.” She looked out the window again. “Men!”
He slowed at the intersection before turning onto the expressway. The night they met didn’t seem all that different to those lyrics. Okay, two days later they were still together, she was about to meet his family and then he was going to drop her at the airport, so it hadn’t quite worked out that way, but still why would those lyrics make her cross? She’d picked him up at a bar.
“Do you have brothers and sisters?” he asked. He guessed if she wanted to go home she had parents, but she hadn’t mentioned anyone else. Maybe siblings would be a safer topic than dodgy lyrics.
“Three brothers and two sisters,” she said. “I have two older brothers and then there is me, Sofia and the babies. And your family, Adam?” she asked.
“Not quite as big as yours,” he said. “But still a lot of kids. I’m the oldest and I have two sisters and two brothers. One of my sisters and my baby brother will probably be there when we get home, you’ll get to meet them. They’re really cool.” And he liked being with his family, but if he went straight home now, he really couldn’t just spend a few hours with them then make some excuse and head for Auckland. They knew he was leaving for three months and the flight booked for Stadium left on Thursday. A real dilemma. He turned and smiled at her.
But he hadn’t told them he was coming home tonight. Maybe he and Geneviève should stay at a motel and then spend tomorrow at home with his family. Then drive on to Auckland in the afternoon. He concentrated on the road.
“Why is your grandmother’s jewellery so important to you?” he asked her. He wasn’t sure how to suggest staying somewhere tonight and going home in the morning to her without sounding like that guy in the lyrics. He’d put some thought into it. He had around fifteen minutes to come up with something smooth.
She turned in her seat, so she could see him better. “My grandmother used to live with us, but she died three years ago. In her will she said her jewellery should be given to me and my sisters when we turned eighteen. The chain and ring are what she left me. She was so kind and loving, they are very precious to me. Thank you for helping me get them back.”
He could hear tears in her voice. He liked that Geneviève’s emotions were so close to the surface all the time. He liked her passion about everything.
“You’re welcome,” he said. He glanced at her again.
“It’s not just a chain though, is it?” He recognised the gold chain interspersed with perfectly round beads, garnets he guessed, or if the grandmother had been really wealthy, rubies, and then the gold cross that hung from it, also studded with the deep blood red stones.
Geneviève shook her head. “No, it is my grandmother’s rosary.”
“You’re Catholic?”
This time she nodded. “Faith is very important to my family.”
He knew how that felt. “And you?” he asked.
Geneviève studied the passing scenery again, then turned back to him.
“I am still deciding.”
He knew
how that felt too. “Me too,” he said. “And the ring?” Even he could see the two pieces of jewellery were a matching set.
‘They were given to my grandmother by her parents when she turned eighteen, they belonged to her grandmother.”
That would be a really cool thing to have. He didn’t have anything that belonged to his grandparents. Probably because they were all still alive.
He slowed down as they came to a roundabout. He looked at her again. He should just explain the problem to her then suggest the motel.
“There’s something I need to tell you before we go home,” he said tentatively.
“What?” That little frown creased her brow again. So lovely.
“My father is a minister.”
“A church minister?”
He nodded. His father’s job had always set him apart a little. Like people expected him to be better behaved and nicer than everyone else because of what his father did. But it really didn’t make too much difference to his life. Except in one way. No way would his parents be happy about him sharing his room with some stray girl he’d offered to drive to the airport. “I think we should stay the night in Te Aroha, and visit Mum and Dad tomorrow,” he suggested.
Geneviève looked at him puzzled for a moment. Then she laughed.
“Would I be sleeping in one of your sisters’ rooms?”
He nodded. Usually it didn’t worry him. He had always accepted his parents’ rules if he took a girl home, but he and Geneviève only had a few nights.
She laughed again and ran her fingers down his arm and he shivered. Getting a room reasonably soon suddenly seemed a perfect idea. Most motels let you have the room by two didn’t they?
Geneviève smiled at his reaction. “I think that is a good idea,” she said. “If you stayed at our house, my parents would make you sleep in my brother’s room, they did with Mason and my father isn’t a priest, he’s a vet.”
“I thought he was a farmer.” Good she understood the problem.
“He is but Enrico and Julio do most of the farming work now and my father helps the other farmers with their animals. I think when we were young his work as a vet helped support the estancia when my grandfather died.”
Chapter Fourteen
Geneviève lay in the hotel bed beside Adam. She stared out the window into the darkness. There hadn’t seemed any need to close the curtains with just the balcony and the sky outside. Adam had insisted on the room on the second storey of the old hotel.
“We’ll make love under the stars,” he’d said. And it had been magical, with the doors to the balcony thrown open and the dark sky, the crisp stars and the moon flooding the room with a soft glow. But making love with Adam had been magical from the very first time even without the benefit of stars. Even though she’d been a mess, frightened by what Mason would do next.
She turned over and watched the light bathe the contours of his cheek. The toffee coloured eyes closed with his lashes fanning his cheeks, the caramel hair sticking up a bit and black in this light. She traced the shape of his face with the tips of her fingers.
He’d spoken so lovingly of his family when they were in the car and now instead of spending his last few days with them before he went away, he was here with her. She’d dragged him into the nightmare of her life. He’d helped her run from Mason, he’d broken into the house. He threatened Mason with the messages. He’d done it all for her and now was helping her get away.
She could easily fall in love with him. Did he feel the same way? And if they were in love, what happened next? She’d dragged him into this and nothing could come of it. What if he regretted wasting this time he could have been with his family or friends?
Geneviève pushed the covers back carefully, got up and sat on the edge of the bed. The chill in the air made goose bumps on her arms. She’d pulled his t shirt on before she went to sleep but still could feel the night air coming through the windows.
She felt him turn over.
“Where are you going?” he murmured sleepily.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep.”
He reached out to her. “Come back. I like you curled up against me.” Geneviève sank back against him, and his arms went around her. He pulled her close to the warmth of his body.
“You’re cold,” he said and nuzzled her ear. And then his hand slid up under the t shirt and his fingers splayed her belly. She turned in his arms, so they were facing.
He pulled her closer, his erection pressed against her, and she could feel his heart beating faster. She raised her head and saw his eyes in the darkness, as dark as his hair. She lowered her head and kissed him. In all her time with Mason, she’d never experienced anything quite like the need Adam stirred in her.
She pressed her lips against his again and the taste of him made desire ripple through her. That she could feel like this about a man she’d known for such a short time took her by surprise. How often was it possible to make love and want to again so soon?
He ran a hand over her hair and down her back.
“Geneviève,” he breathed sleepily. Relief overwhelmed her. He wanted to be here with her as much as she wanted him to. Neither of them would regret anything about the few days they had left.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asked. His hand still stroked her back and then moved down to cup her buttocks. “You tired me out.”
Geneviève looked down at him. “I was worrying about you.”
“Me?” His fingers moved to the crease at the bottom of the curve, then to the back of her thighs and gently started stroking again.
Geneviève curled into the caresses. “I’m not being fair. You are missing time with your family because of me.”
He kissed her softly. “I don’t mind,” he said then nuzzled her throat. “And they don’t know so they won’t mind.”
“I can tell how much you love them from the way you talk about them. I am sure you want to be with them.”
He lifted his head and grinned. “Being with my family can’t match being here, and this.” He moved his hand and pressed his knuckles gently against her pelvic bone.
Geneviève propped her chin on her fist. “Whatever this is,” she said as she studied him.
“A gift from God.” His knuckles ran up her body.
She laughed. “You’ll have to tell your father you’re a believer now.”
“Funny.” Then his hand found her breast under the t shirt.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?” His thumb teased a nipple.
“Why me, and not Tessa? She’s free now.”
He leaned forward and kissed her again silent for a moment before he answered.
Then he looked into her eyes. “The way you looked when you walked into the bar took my breath away. You were beautiful, elegant and sexy. But nervous and delicate too. Like a perfect piece of music filled with longing and promise.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “Are you sure it’s just Isaac who writes the lyrics?”
“It’s true, it has only been you since that moment.” Adam ran his thumb over her other nipple.
Then he stopped moving completely for a moment, then his voice became more intense. “I just want you, only you.”
She hadn’t been sure until he’d said the words. And her feelings echoed his. She wanted him with the same intensity he wanted her. Him, and only him.
But she still didn’t want to risk making the same mistake twice. She’d put her life on hold a year ago when she met Mason.
“Fickle,” she said to lighten the mood. “One minute it is all Tessa and the next it is me.”
“Can’t help it.” He pushed the t shirt up over her breasts and lowered his mouth to them. His tongue circled each nipple, then ran a trail between her breasts to her belly button.
Geneviève felt caught between enjoying what he was doing to her body, and worrying they were both getting in too deep. On Thursday when they had to say goodbye it would be impossible.
“I know.” His tongue moved further down and traced the edges of sensitive nerve endings, setting off a wave of sensation.
“I have to go home so I can learn to feel like myself again.”
“And I want to go to Australia with Stadium. Besides I have nothing to offer you except a big student debt. Let’s just enjoy this, whatever it is.”
Her body arched into his lips on its own but her mind still worried. She should get up and leave and catch a bus to Auckland while she still could.
But it felt so good to be touched this way, to be surrounded by whatever they felt for each other.
Had Mason ever made her feel so amazing? Never.
If she stayed with Adam now, they could have two more nights together.
They both knew where they stood. And it was just sex. Some people liked it more than others. Who knew she was one of those people?
When Adam lifted the t shirt over her head then rolled over her and entered her, Geneviève went with the sensations, so delicate and so overwhelming. She cried out as her body trembled and tumbled over her peak again. He followed then half rolled away from her.
“Unbelievable,” he murmured. “I’ve gone to heaven.”
Geneviève lay there with him half on top of her, half on the mattress, face down on the pillow. She gently ran her fingers through his hair. If his father really was a priest, no minister, he said. He might not approve of his son comparing sex to heaven.
But maybe he was right. Heaven was being in a big bed in an old hotel with someone you really like, who likes making love as much as you do. How did she ever think she loved Mason, when being with someone could feel like this?
A few hours later, they had found a café and were having breakfast. It wasn’t that he was putting off going home but right now he wanted to be alone with Geneviève.
“Do your parents live in the city where the airport is?” he asked. He hadn’t even thought about what would happen once she got to Uruguay. How would she get home once she’d landed? He didn’t know a bloody thing about the country. Big or small? What the people there did to make a living?
