The Seduction of Suzanne Read online

  This intensity of attraction she felt for Justin Walker was a total break from the norm.

  She simply wasn’t equipped to deal with it. Not in any sense of the word.

  Despite Anita’s urgings, the jungle of casual sex was an untracked wilderness to her. She had no idea how to find a way into or through that. Or even if she wanted to go that way.

  But a deeper relationship was out of the question. He was a short-term visitor to the island. She had no future with someone like that.

  He was also the most attractive, physically arousing man she’d ever met. She could barely think straight around him. Even holding a conversation was a significant effort of will.

  He belonged exactly where she had originally placed him: in the “Too Hard” basket.

  And then she spent several delirious moments remembering just exactly how ‘too hard’ he had been by the end of their kiss.

  She ground her teeth together in frustration. Just thinking about him turned her brain to mush, and he wasn’t even present.

  And that was where things got really dangerous. She knew what came of believing in a handsome, unprincipled man. And she had no basis for believing he was anything else. She didn’t trust her own judgement. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust the growing urge to follow him around like moronic lapdog, panting and eager to please.

  And yet. . .and yet. . .

  If he left the island this second, and she never saw him again, how long would it take to stop thinking about him, stop wondering if there was something more she should have done? How much would she regret this. . .cowardice? Might as well call it what it was.

  Cowardly avoidance of life. Cowardly denial of her human potential to live and grow freely, to approach the world with the joy and wonder she’d carried into her teenage years but not beyond them.

  Sometimes she felt so dried up and useless, years of loneliness behind her and decades ahead.

  She had not been designed for solitude, and even the deepest friendships were not enough.

  She wanted to try. She wanted to try to be a whole person. She wanted to know Justin, really know him as more than a beautiful, charming beach boy. More than the stereotype of a handsome seducer she had such difficulty seeing past. Know him as a flawed and complete human being and discover who she herself might become with such a person.

  For the first time in seven years, she wanted more from a man than just to be left alone. She wanted him. His body, his laughter, his warm, approving gaze on her, heating her body like sunshine.

  She wanted to try and see if maybe, just maybe, she could climb onto this merry-go-round and enjoy the ride until it stopped and left her in a new, better place.

  She realised then that she had made her decision, and although it left her stomach churning with nerves, she knew her choice was the right one for her.

  For this man.

  Within a few minutes, she was asleep.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning she woke later than usual, a consequence of her restless night. With a sigh she hauled herself out of bed and walked slowly to the kitchen, already contemplating the best way of getting in touch with Justin.

  Obviously he would see her as fickle, or even unstable, blowing cold and then hot without apparent reason. In retrospect she had obviously overreacted to that kiss. It was just a kiss, not that significant. Never mind the years since her last passionate embrace. He didn’t know about those.

  She must have looked like a fool, pedalling away furiously as if all the demons of hell were pursuing her.

  At the doorway of the kitchen she stopped in her tracks. There was a figure sitting silent and still in one of the deck chairs on her verandah. His back was toward her, those wide shoulders and that golden head unmistakable in the clear morning light. He looked out to where her driveway curved and disappeared into the forest, apparently absorbed in quiet contemplation.

  Suzanne quickly turned and scuttled back to her bedroom to throw on some clothes. In summer all she wore to bed was a thin little T-shirt and underpants. The thought of Justin seeing her like that left her whole body suffused in a blush.

  It took only moments for her to change shirts and put on some shorts and a bra, and to pull her hair into a thick pony-tail. A glance in the mirror reassured her the dark circles under her eyes were not too pronounced.

  Aiming for nonchalance she returned to the kitchen and opened the French doors onto the verandah. As he heard her, he twisted to look in her direction. His gaze travelled slowly from her face down to her bare feet, and then up again.

  The blue of his eyes was darker than usual as he said in his smooth, deep voice: “You look even more delectable when fresh out of bed, and still sleepy-eyed.”

  Her blush returned full force, and he smiled knowingly.

  “Um, can I say the word, stalker?” she responded tartly.

  He smiled engagingly at her. “I know. Shocking isn’t it, for me to just turn up and help myself to a seat on your porch. Very bad manners. But then you pedalled off too quickly for us to arrange our next meeting, Madame Tourguide. And you never gave me your number” Then his face turned serious. “Of course, if you really want me to go away, then say the word. I’ll go.”

  She hesitated a moment, two. She wanted to send him away, with all the doubts and second guesses and tumult he brought with him. But she had come to a different decision last night, and she would stick by it. When the silence drew out and she still said nothing, he turned away.

  “You have such a lovely place here,” he said, gesturing at the forest that began at the edge of the lawn. “I’ve been listening to the birds and watching that one.” The resident fantail was catching tiny flies in the sunshine, performing its usual aerobatic loops and dives. “Soaking up the peaceful solitude. It’s so private and secluded. I nearly drove right past the turn-off. It’s hard to spot until you see the red mailbox.”

  “I don’t see your car.”

  “I parked it back in the trees and walked the rest of the way. I didn’t want to rouse you if you weren’t already up.”

  “How long have you been here?” she asked in surprise.

  “Nearly two hours. I didn’t want to wake you, but I also didn’t want to miss you. Yesterday made me think you were an early riser.” He smiled wryly, and Suzanne realised he meant their bicycle ride at seven the previous day.

  “I slept in this morning,” she offered. “So you’ve been sitting out here for two hours?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been enjoying the bird song. There’s so much less forest at Medlands that you don’t get to hear it there.”

  “I know. I love the beach, but I wouldn’t want to live so close to it. Um . . . would you like something to drink, some tea or coffee?” she asked tentatively.

  “Coffee would be great,” he said with a pleased smile.

  “All I have is instant. Is that all right?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Hold on then. I’ll be back in a sec.”

  The kitchen seemed very dark after the bright sunlight as she ducked back inside and put the kettle on to boil.

  She spooned instant coffee into one mug – she had to chip away at the contents of the jar a little to loosen enough to fill a teaspoon. She never drank the stuff. Hopefully it would taste alright. She put some chamomile into a strainer for her own mug. Pouring the hot water over the instant coffee, she called out: “Sugar or milk?”

  “As it comes,” he replied.

  When both cups were full she carried them out, bringing a saucer for her tea-strainer. She held out his cup, feeling with a thrill the warm brush of his fingers as he took it from her. Then she sat on the second deck chair.

  Suzanne was watching him out of the corner of her eye and caught the slight wince as he tasted the coffee. Yet he didn’t say a word about it. Merely drank bravely.

  She sipped her tea quietly, looking towards the fantail. She was finding it hard to sit still. That kiss was on her mind, and it made her want to
squirm as she sat there stealing glances at the sensuous curve of his mouth. Would he touch her again like that? So softly and gently. Would she feel that same warm tide of pleasure rising through her body to swamp logic and coherent thought? It was so long since she’d felt physical desire it seemed a totally alien sensation. Had it ever been so intense before?

  Finally he put his mug down on the verandah. She leaned just far enough to see it was still half full, and hid a tiny smile.

  “Just the other day, someone was telling me about a hot water spring on the island that one can swim in.”

  “I know it. It’s about three-quarters-of-an-hour’s walk into the bush from the road.”

  “I brought my swimsuit with me,” he said, giving her a boyishly hopeful grin.

  Suzanne looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspiciously wondering what he’d been told. The spring’s water ran down through a series of pools. The walking path met the pools at their lowest point, and there was a small picnic area. Like many of the island’s natural beauties, the path was minimally signposted, so one had to know what one was looking for to find it. This meant that even at the height of summer, one might have the pools to oneself. Even if there were other people, they were likely to stay by the picnic tables where the pools were wide and shallow and pleasantly warm.

  But again, if one knew what one was looking for, there was a second, far narrower path leading upstream to the original source of the hot water. There a small, cold waterfall fell into a much deeper pool, and mingled with the spring water seeping up from between the large pebbles below.

  With the tumbling water of the delicate waterfall, the encroaching ferns and foliage, and the secluded silence of the bush, the ambience was purely romantic.

  That was why Suzanne was suspicious. Yet Justin met her look with perfect innocence.

  “Yes it is a nice place. I hope you’ve got insect repellent too, because the mosquitoes are fond of it as well,” she said repressively.

  “It’s in my car,” he replied.

  “Give me a moment to get my walking boots and togs,” she said.

  “Togs?”

  “My swimsuit,” she clarified, knowing that it was not an expression with which an American would be familiar.

  She held out her hand for his mug, and he passed it to her.

  Back in the house she quickly rinsed the two cups and grabbed a homemade muesli bar for a roving breakfast. Then she assembled a backpack of gear for a light tramp and swimming, as well as her socks and boots. She came back to sit on the verandah steps as she swiftly laced them up, the burn of the laces a familiar friction on her slightly callused hands.

  “Shall we go in your car, or mine?” he asked.

  “Let’s take yours,” she said. “It’s already halfway to the road. And it’s much nicer than mine.” Threading her ponytail through the back of a baseball cap, she bounced lightly down the remaining steps and passed him with an energetic stride.

  He caught up and matched her easily.

  “What’ll we do about lunch?” she asked.

  “I packed a picnic.”

  “You did come well prepared,” she replied in mocking astonishment.

  “Ever the boy scout, and at your service, ma’am.”

  With those wicked blue eyes he looked nothing like a boy scout, she thought as he smirked good-humouredly at her. And then she blushed hotly as she remembered the last time he had offered to be of service.

  She threw her backpack into the backseat of the unlocked car and climbed in, swiping road dust from the door handle off her hand and onto the seat of her shorts. She narrowly escaped slapping a nervous tattoo out on the bare skin of her knees as he climbed in beside her, the sheer scale of him immediately shrinking the available space dramatically. Instead she clenched her hands into fists and then sat on them, determined not to act as jumpy and skittish as she felt.

  She gave him a tight-lipped smile as he paused with his hand on the key in the ignition and looked at her enquiringly. “So, which way? Left or right?”

  “You turn left, and then just follow the road. I’ll let you know before you have to turn again.”

  Her eyes roved the interior of the car, searching for inspiration, some topic of conversation that would stay light and neutral.

  “This thing is so space age.” She patted the dash lightly, careful not to trigger anything. “All buttons and knobs and dials and screens. I fell like I’m in something from Star Trek. I’m surprised all its delicate systems haven’t expired from the shock of life on the Barrier.”

  “Designed for a rugged life, despite its appearance. Kind of like you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You look sleek and lovely. You naturally have the sort of glow some women spend hours to achieve. But it’s good health and vigour, not salon treatments and make up. You’re physically strong, you use your body as you like. I’ve met models who are as slender as you but they are bones and fat. No muscle tone whatsoever. But this,” he laid one hand on her upper arm, circling her bicep in a warm grasp, “this is solid. I love to watch you move. You’re like lightning in female form. Graceful. Riveting.”

  Suzanne gaped at him, astonished and entranced by this foreign picture. She did think of her body as her favourite tool, one that should be used wisely. And she liked to think she kept it tidy. But appearance was never her first consideration. Usually she didn’t dwell on what other people saw when they looked at her. He was the exception. With him, it was often on her mind. Yet the picture he laid out before her was completely unexpected. And pleasing.

  His hand loosened on her arm, slowly as if with reluctance. He let it fall away, then returned it to the wheel.

  She felt a warm glow rising inside her, and tried to squelch it, to no avail. He liked – no, ‘loved’- to watch her move. Wow. She cuddled this new information to her and was silenced.

  In all honesty, what could one say?

  After a while he commented on the scenery and she answered almost at random. The curving road unfolded in front of them, rising up from the farmland in the valley and becoming forest-clad slopes.

  “Here we are,” she exclaimed with relief, restless and wanting to escape the intense atmosphere of awareness that had developed in the car.

  They had reached the carpark, which was nothing more than a wide spot in the road. Suzanne was pleased to see there were two other cars already there, both liberally covered with the ubiquitous dust from the dry gravel roads. That meant more people at the pools, which would make their swim much less intimate.

  As soon as she was out of the car, Suzanne sprayed herself generously with insect repellent. It had a pleasantly sharp scent and would keep off the mosquitoes that could be found anywhere that water had seeped to lie in stagnant pools deep within the shadowed undergrowth. Justin followed her lead and used his own repellent, which was a different, citrus-scented brand.

  She led the way into the shade of the forest.

  Unlike most walking trails, this one was wide enough for three people to walk abreast in perfect comfort, rather than in single file. So Justin walked beside her, matching his stride to her own. She watched their feet moving in step as the path climbed, and took note of his boots. They were well made and looked expensive, if well worn. She didn’t recognise the brand. Apparently he was willing to spend a bit of money where it counted. His clothes might be falling apart but he took better care of his feet.

  They didn’t speak. There was something about the stillness of the bush that called for quiet attention. Only when they walked without speech could they listen to the quietly murmured secrets of the streams which could be heard, but which remained mostly unseen through the trees.

  She looked for the flash of birds’ wings, for gnomish fungal landscapes which clung to the huge trunks of trees, for tiny ferns which pushed delicate green fingers through the rich brown matter on the forest floor. With a touch, a quiet word, a pointing hand, she drew his attention.

  He nodded, exc
laimed, started pointing out things she hadn’t seen.

  It felt like companionship.

  She always enjoyed a shared bushwalk, but there was something about Justin that made the experience so much better. He seemed to enter so easily and completely into the same mood, as if he understood and shared the thrill she felt surrounded by such a lush wealth of life.

  The fact that his every brushing touch sent ripples down her spine, that she was constantly aware of his large, lithely muscular body beside hers, was quite a different issue.

  When they had almost reached the pools, they met a group of people travelling in the opposite direction. It was a Maori family, with three children. As they passed each other they exchanged smiles and casual greetings.

  A moment later Suzanne and Justin reached the hot pools. There was another family there, the children splashing noisily in the water, the parents just beginning to set out food on the picnic table.

  “Let’s go upstream,” said Justin in her ear.

  She shivered at the feeling of his breath against her neck.

  “W-we should get changed here first,” she stammered. “I’ll be back in a sec.” Feeling awkward, she scuttled further up the wide path away from the pools until she was out of sight behind some dense foliage. Quickly she replaced her clothing with her swimsuit, and after wrapping her towel around her waist sarong-style, walked briskly back to where he was standing.

  There was no way she was stripping naked alone with him upriver.

  “Oh, I see,” he said in amused comprehension. “Give me a moment then.” He sauntered casually away, to return a minute later wearing only his backpack, socks and boots and a pair of black swimming shorts.

  “If madame is ready,” he said with a bow, and a gesture to where the small, winding path upstream started. Almost forcibly, she tore her attention from the beautifully defined musculature of his upper torso. The man really was a walking work of art.