[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer (17 page)

“What’s he doing here?” Rowan glanced over
her shoulder to where Gene stood by the drinks table, topping up glasses from a
bottle of bubbly for a group of Willow’s friends.

Callie had just finished filling her, Neve,
and Bridget in on the successful appointments she’d had over the past week.
They were all thrilled that so many stores were willing to stock the Four
Seasons designs, and she thought that for the first time since they’d begun
their venture, the rest of them were finally beginning to believe in her vision
of how far they could go if they gave it their all.

She followed Rowan’s gaze, admired Gene briefly
in his black tux and bow tie, and then looked back. “Neve suggested he come and
be a waiter for us. I thought it would be funny to see how he reacted in this
kind of situation.”

“He seems to be doing all right.” Bridget
sipped her wine and grinned as the women around him burst into giggles at
something he’d said.

“Yes, he does,” Callie said wryly. She was
slightly surprised by that. There was something straight-laced about him at
times, and she’d half expected him to get flustered and embarrassed in a group
of women, but the opposite appeared to be happening. If anything, he seemed to
have relaxed more, losing the ex-soldier ramrod stance and becoming quite the
flirt.

“He’s rather gorgeous.” Rowan nibbled
nervously at some peanuts. “I have no idea what to say to him.”

“Dear Rowan,” Callie said with affection.
“He’s perfectly normal. Just talk to him like you talk to us.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. What would I say?”

Neve gave an unladylike snort. “I don’t
know why you always go to pieces when a good-looking guy turns up. Looks don’t
mean anything. It’s what’s inside that matters.”

“What’s Gene like inside, Callie?” Bridget
asked. “Spill the beans.” Her expression was a little too innocent. Rowan
giggled.

Callie met Neve’s steady gaze and knew she
suspected what was going on between them.
Can you not tell Neve about what
happened tonight?
Gene had asked that the first time they’d slept together.

“He’s very nice,” she said.

Bridget rolled her eyes. “Aw, come on…”

Callie laughed. “Nothing’s happened between
us.”

“You’re kidding me.” Rowan’s eyes nearly
fell out of her head. “He hasn’t made a move on you? More importantly, you
haven’t made a move on him?”

“Not at all. We have a professional,
working relationship.”

All the other three women snorted.

“I’m telling the truth,” Callie said
softly, not liking that she was lying to her friends. Was she putting Gene’s
feelings above theirs? What did that mean? “I like him, of course I do, and I
think he likes me, but he made it clear on the first day that he’s here to work
and that nothing’s going to happen between us before Becky comes back.”

“And when she does?” Rowan asked.

Callie shrugged. “We’ll have to see. I’m in
no hurry anyway. I’m still in post-Jamie gloom.” That was only partly true.
Gene was rapidly dispelling it. “What about the rest of you?” she asked in an
attempt to draw attention away from herself. “Any news on the romance front? It
is Valentine’s Day tomorrow, after all. Are you expecting cards and flowers
from anyone?”

“No,” all three of them said at the same
time. They all laughed.

“We’re hopeless.” Rowan sighed and sipped
her wine.

“Speak for yourself.” Neve finished off her
glass of vodka. “I don’t want any of that stupid romance stuff. I’m going
clubbing tomorrow night, and I’m going to find myself a man for the night for
some tawdry sex.”

“Neve!” Bridget scolded. “You love to shock
us all, don’t you?”

“I might join you,” Rowan said enviously.
“I haven’t had sex for a millennium.”

That made them all laugh. “Somehow I can’t
imagine you in a nightclub on the prowl,” Callie teased.

“I know.” Rowan swirled the last inch of
wine around in her glass, watching the bubbles rising and popping on the
surface. “Nightclubs terrify me.”

“Everything terrifies you.”

“True. But I know I’m never going to meet
anyone sitting behind my desk. I have to put myself out there a bit, I am aware
of that. The other day, Hitch said ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ and
although it’s a cliché, it really made me think. He’s right. If I don’t take
risks, I’ll never meet the right man.”

“My brother knows precisely nothing about
romance,” Bridget advised her. “For God’s sake, don’t let him give you advice.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Callie wasn’t sure she
agreed. Bridget’s brother was a nature photographer who spent almost every
waking hour of his day covered in tree ferns and hiding in the middle of the
bush somewhere, photographing possums and kiwi and other nocturnal creatures. About
eight feet tall, gorgeous, and funny, he was obsessed with his work, and
Bridget was right in that his track record with women was abysmal, extending to
brief bouts of concentrated sexual activity before he disappeared once more
into the wild, invariably leaving a bawling woman in his wake. In spite of
that, though, he was very down-to-earth, and Callie could think of worse people
to give the romantic, idealistic Rowan advice.

“Can I get you ladies anything?”

Callie glanced up to see Gene standing
there, a bottle of bubbly in one hand and a dish of miniature chocolate eclairs
in the other.

“Ooh.” Neve took three eclairs. “Thanks.”

Callie held up her glass. Gene’s eyes met
hers for a brief moment, and then he rested the lip of the bottle on the rim of
the glass and tipped it up.

When they’d met up in the morning, he’d
been quiet but hadn’t pulled away when she’d hugged him. He’d continued to be a
little reserved while they’d driven back to Picton, where they’d left the car
to be returned down south and had taken the ferry to Wellington. Catching a
taxi back in the city, Gene had instructed it to take Callie back first, and
he’d left her with a promise to attend the party the next day.

They hadn’t discussed how what had happened
would affect them once they left for their journey north. Callie supposed she
would have to wait and see once they arrived at their next destination.

He hadn’t asked her to keep quiet about
their relationship again, but when she’d arrived at Willow’s place, he hadn’t
greeted her with anything more than a formal nod of the head, either, so she’d
assumed he wanted to keep it beneath his hat for the moment.

He wandered to the next group with the
bottle, and Callie sipped from her glass.

“How’s your mum, by the way?” Rowan asked.
“Any news on the death threats?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Callie
said. “If that’s okay.”

Rowan’s expression softened. “Sure. But
you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. Phoebe had rung
earlier to tell her that Kirk hadn’t been captured, and that a couple of people
had been killed. She’d tried to convince Callie to postpone her tour, but
Callie had been adamant that she wasn’t going to let some idle threats stop her
doing her job. They’d argued, and in the end Callie had hung up and thrown her
phone across the room. It was the last subject she wanted to discuss tonight.

“Pressie time,” Willow announced loudly,
providing a welcome distraction.

Gene finished filling up the others’
glasses and promised to get Neve another glass of vodka, and the girls moved
their seats to form a close circle around Willow with the other ten or so young
women whom Willow had invited to her baby shower.

The mother-to-be looked her usual bohemian
self, Callie thought, smiling with affection at Willow’s pretty,
rainbow-colored tunic that hung in soft folds over her maternity jeans. Her
long brown hair hung around her shoulders in gentle waves, and she was the very
picture of motherly beauty.

Although she and Rowan were identical
twins, they were so very different. But then, most of that was nurture, Callie
mused. Rowan had told her once—late at night, after a party at university, and
when they were both drunk—what lay at the root of her problems. They hadn’t
referred to it since, but it haunted Callie sometimes. Things had happened in
Rowan’s past that had molded her into a very different girl from her laidback
sister. It was amazing that Rowan was sane at all considering what she’d had to
deal with over the years.

“Are you nervous?” Callie asked as a couple
of her friends moved the table of presents closer to Willow.

“Not really. I’m excited. It’s all
planned.” Willow perched on the edge of the sofa, her cheeks flushed with
pleasure. “I’m having a natural water birth, with no drugs, if at all
possible.”

“Sheesh.” Neve pulled a face. “I can’t
think of anything worse. I’ll be, like, give me a fucking epidural and get that
thing out of me!”

They all laughed, including Gene.

“Do you want kids, Gene?” Bridget asked
him.

He raised an eyebrow as they all turned to
look at him. “Of course. When I meet the right girl.”

“You haven’t met her yet?” Bridget
enquired.

He smiled at her. “When I do, you’ll be the
first to know.”

Callie reached across to the sausage rolls
on the nearby table and took one. He hadn’t looked at her when he answered, and
now he was helping Willow get comfortable on the sofa, fetching her a cushion
and then a glass of lemonade. He’d sidestepped the question admirably, so
Callie had no idea of knowing what was going through his head. Was he thinking,
Jeez, that’s the last thing on my mind, hope Callie doesn’t get any ideas…
?
Or did the thought of a future with her give him a tingle, the way the notion
of seeing more of him in the future did with her?

She put it all to the back of her mind.
This evening they had to concentrate on Willow, and there would be plenty of
time in the future to work things out.

Willow started with a present from her
sister, squealing at the sight of Rowan’s handmade baby jumpsuit in neutral
yellows and oranges because Willow and Liam had chosen not to know the sex of
their baby.

“And it’ll also remind him or her of me,”
Rowan said, “as autumn.”

“I love it.” Tears shone in Willow’s eyes
and she stood to give Rowan a hug. “Thank you.”

“I’ve made lots more clothes, but these are
the prettiest,” Rowan said huskily. “I’m so glad you like it.”

Neve nudged Gene, who was standing next to
her. “You realize after this you’re going to have to go out and do incredibly
manly things just to negate all the estrogen you’ve been exposed to.”

“I plan to chop logs and hunt wild boar
while listening to loud rock music straight after I leave here,” he advised.

Everyone giggled, and Callie grinned. The
idea of watching the sexy Mr. Bond chopping logs naked from the waist up wasn’t
the worst proposition in the world. He glanced over at her, his lips curving
up, and raised an eyebrow as if to say,
What do you think?
She shrugged,
meh
, but thought that her eyes probably held a little of the lust that
coursed through her at the thought.

It took Willow quite a while to open all
the presents. Gene moved around the room while she did so, refilling glasses
and taking around plates of food to keep everyone occupied.

“Fancy a nibble, ma’am?” he murmured to her
at one point when he bent to offer her a selection of tiny pastries.

“Mmm, yes please,” she replied, determined
not to blush, and well aware that Neve still had her eye on them. “Thank you, Mr.
Bond.”

He moved on, but not before they’d
exchanged the briefest of glances, and she saw the warmth in his gray eyes.

After the present opening, Willow made a short
speech thanking her friends and family for their support, then announced that
they were going to have a bit of fun with the Four Seasons lingerie party. The
women all clapped, thoroughly enjoying themselves by this point.

It was Neve’s turn to take over. Callie had
been to many of Neve’s parties, so she was well aware how skilled her friend
was at being the host, but as always she found herself admiring Neve’s
confident manner, the way she managed to include everyone in the evening, and
how she made it fun and a little risqué without picking on anyone who might
have been embarrassed or nervous at some of the things she brought out of her
suitcase.

First she handed everyone a catalogue of
the Four Seasons brand and brought out displays of lots of their lingerie and
swimwear, which the girls all cooed over. Many of them took pieces to try on in
Willow’s bedrooms, and Callie had to suppress her usual pleasure and excitement
at seeing the order list get longer and longer as the girls emerged with
pleased squeals. Even Willow chose a few pieces, because Neve had purposely
included some maternity bras that Rowan had made—beautiful as ever, but with
practical clips that meant a nursing mum could remove the cups.

“What do you think, Gene?” Neve directed
the question at him and held the bra with her fingertips, giving it a slight
shake in his direction. She’d had a few vodkas now and was growing increasingly
naughty, and Callie knew she’d do her best to tease him. Rowan coughed into her
wine, always the most easily embarrassed of the lot of them.