Headstrong (10 page)

Reece nodded.

“My father was in Wellington? Recently?”

“Yeah. A couple days before you…caught me.”

“Oh, charming.” Libby’s eyes narrowed with deep irritation but she overcame the emotion after a moment. “Well, I can see why he liked you.”

Reece wasn’t sure what to make of the comment. The impression Tom Prentiss had made on him during their brief acquaintance had been one of calculating self-control and thinly veiled arrogance.

“You’re two peas in a pod,” Libby added loftily.

Reece frowned. He wasn’t like that at all. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

“You’re cold,” Libby said, her gaze pointed toward the sea.

“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe I just don’t like you?”

“I suppose that’s possible… But you will. I’ll win you over, Nolan.” She turned to face him, grinned and bit her lip in a way that made certain unprofessional parts of Reece curious.

“I very much doubt that.”

Her smile deepened. “Want to bet?”

Reece was relieved to reach the entrance to the impressive, modern museum, his attention drawn away from how warm and uncomfortable Libby’s flirtation sometimes made him. They each dropped a few dollar coins in the donation box, and Reece held his camera up at the greeter in a questioning gesture, receiving a nod of approval.

Libby looked him over with a smirk. “This is going to be fun.”

The trouble with this arrangement, Libby realized, was that it required her and Reece to remain separated by believably long distances. This hadn’t occurred to her when she’d been busy reveling in his unexpected surrender the night before. What good were hours of weekly access to this man if she had to spend it twenty yards away?

After browsing the natural history exhibits, Libby flashed a time-out sign across the gallery at Reece and met him halfway.

“Yeah?” He clutched the camera in front of his chest, like an amulet designed to ward off pushy American women.

“Let’s break for a coffee.”

“I just had a coffee.”

“Well,
I
didn’t. Come on.”

“Fine. I’ll document you in the museum café.”

“No, come have a coffee
with
me. At the same table.”

He glanced at his watch. “This is already going to eat up most of my day, Libby. Can we please focus?”

“You make it sound like you’re the one who’s doing the favor, here.”

“I am, as much as you are.” His reply carried a hint of an attitude.

“Just…come on. I want to talk to you.” Already her stomach was churning, anticipating this conversation.

Reece followed her to the café and ordered their drinks while Libby found them a table by a sunny window. She wanted to look at those hard gray eyes in the light, and see if the sun melted any their iciness…to see if Reece might soften, if she softened a bit herself.

He returned with their drinks and she studied him a moment.

“What’s up?” He stirred the foam in his cappuccino, looking skeptical. He met her gaze and his irises were stunningly clear. Not ice—quartz. Surely that material didn’t melt unless subjected to
extreme
heat.

“This doesn’t have to be unpleasant, you know,” Libby said.

“I could say the same thing to you.” Snide or not, she heard a little give in his tone.

“You’re all right, Nolan. You’re refreshing.”

“Why are you buttering me up?”

Libby chewed her lip, putting in final bets. “You aren’t gay, are you?”

“That’s none of your business,” Reece said.

“I don’t think you are.”

“What is the
point
of this talk, exactly?”

“I just want to get to know you,” Libby said, leaning back in her chair. “I’d like us to get along. We’re going to be stuck together quite a bit in the coming weeks. Months, maybe, if my visa extension comes through.”

“I can muster tolerance if you can,” Reece said, cold again. The boy was about as predictable as March in Boston.

“I’ve got no problem mustering just about whatever you can think of.” Libby picked up her cup. “You’re the one who’s being difficult.”

He shrugged.

“So tell me about yourself. When’s your birthday?”

“Why not just google me again and find out for yourself?”

She took a sip and set her cup down. “Don’t be like that. And don’t act like your role in this arrangement is so holy. Would you like to know something, Reece Nolan?”

He blinked at her.

“I’m doing you a favor, letting this happen the way it is. I could ruin your future career in a heartbeat, and by proxy your family’s financial solvency. And I’m not. And if you swallowed half of what my father’s probably fed you about me, that should surprise you. But believe it or not, I’m not an asshole.”

“I never said I thought you were.”

Libby turned her cup on its saucer. “You know, your brother said you’re just being a sore loser about all this. I’m here trying to offer you an even better deal than the one I wrecked, so cut me some frigging slack.”

Reece held his tongue.

“And before you say it,” she went on, “you helping me get my father off my back isn’t all that huge a draw. That’s a luxury I’ve been living just fine without for the last few years. I don’t
need
your help. But you need mine. So try treating me with a little courtesy.”

“Why are you doing it, then?” Reece asked.

“Because I like your family. All of them except you have welcomed me in and given me the benefit of the doubt. I want to help you. And I want your help, even if I don’t need it.” Reflexively, she made her voice sound scheming to cover up how vulnerable all this honesty made her feel. “This could be fun if we can agree to make it that way.”

“I agree,” Reece said, surprising her.

“Well. Good.”

“My birthday is October twenty-second.”

She smiled, leaning in and resting her elbows on the table. “What’s your favorite food?”

“My mother’s roast lamb.”

“Why weren’t you in the
last
Summer Olympics?” Libby wondered if she was pushing it, asking that one.

“I was injured during the trials.” He said it with none of the evasiveness he’d shown when she’d asked him about the second-to-last Games.

“That sucks.”

“I’m injured a lot. I have a tetchy knee.”

“I’d like to see you fight,” Libby said. “You must be really good.”

“I’m all right.”

“I’ll bet.” She stared at him, fascinated. He was answering all her questions but she didn’t feel as if she were learning anything about him. This man would frustrate the Spanish Inquisition. She propped her chin on her fists. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So goddamned distrustful. Did someone who looks just like me set your puppy on fire when you were six or something? Because I feel like I’m guilty until proven innocent with you.”

“Your father said you’re manipulative, and as best I can tell, he’s right.”

“Give me one example,” she demanded.

“The ‘quiet talk’ you wanted on Thursday. You jerked me around and humiliated me in front of a club full of people.”

“That’s a bit melodramatic. And I caught you
spying
on me. Aren’t I due a little bit of revenge?”

He blew a long breath through his nose. “You’re paying me to lie to your father.”

“And you’re letting me,” she said. “So how come you’re such a martyr?”

“He’s trying to protect you, not police you.”

“Protect me from what? My past aside, tell me one thing
you’ve
seen me do that’s so reprehensible.”

“Well, what if it hadn’t been me who found you on that beach?” Reece asked. “What if it had been some actual pervert? Or the cops, coming to arrest you for building an open fire or drinking in public? What if the person you got to drive you out to a secluded beach had pulled a knife on you or something?”

“Everything fun in life requires you to put yourself out there, lover. Take some risks.” She sank back against her chair and crossed her legs. “That’s what makes it exciting. Not everybody wants to be safe and respectable all the time. That’s why so many of us are willing to get tipsy and sing in front of strangers. You’re the one who needs an adjustment.”

Reece’s jaw tensed as though he were working through a hunk of invisible gristle.

“I think it’s probably pretty telling that you chose the line of work you did,” Libby went on. “Martial arts, I mean. It’s your job to be on your guard every moment, in case somebody attacks you. How paranoid is that? And now you’re going to be a
cop
? Maybe I
am
manipulative, but at least I don’t have the holy pole of propriety rammed up my backside. At least I don’t need to be in control of everything, every second of the day.”

She steeled herself for a counterattack, but Reece just shrugged.

“Jesus,” she said, grinning. “You are a frigging iceberg. What do I have to do to melt you, anyway?”

Reece smiled back, a tiny glimmer of triumph lighting his eyes. Heating Libby’s blood.

“Is this how you win?” she asked. “You just don’t take the bait?”

“Very few things are worth getting angry about.”

“Oh, yeah?” She cocked her head at him. “So which one made you the way you are?”

Reece smiled tightly and stood, taking their empty cups away. Libby narrowed her eyes at his retreating back. “You win this round, Nolan. That makes us even.”

They continued through the museum, then afterward walked around downtown. Libby went about her feigned normal business, browsing in shops and swinging by the university to pick up some lab results a student assistant had prepared for her. Yet more unexciting chemical analysis, more BS to write up as part of her findings.

Reece was leaning against a signpost and fiddling with his camera when she emerged from the science wing. She stared at him long and hard, flummoxed. His body and face did something to her, something unfamiliar. His inaccessibility and coldness lit her on fire. But what good was that miracle, if he wouldn’t ever let her get close enough to enjoy it?

They turned their heads in tandem as a passing man about Reece’s age called his name.

Reece snapped into self-awareness and smiled. “Hey, Jason. Gidday?” They shook hands.

Libby meandered closer as the man said, “I thought you were still in merry old England.”

“I’ve been back for a couple months.”

“Home for a while?”

“For good, actually,” Reece replied with a loaded exhale.

“I ran into your brother a month or two ago. I’m sorry about your dad.” Jason gave Reece’s upper arm a fortifying squeeze.

Reece nodded and said, “Cheers,” then turned as Libby walked up to them. “Jase, this is my mate Libby. Libby, this is Jason. We were at school together a million years ago.”

“Nice to meet you,” Libby said, aglow from Reece’s decision to label her as a friend, even if she knew it was merely the simplest thing for him to say.

“She’s visiting from Boston,” Reece added.

“Ah, very exciting,” Jason said.

“Well, Cambridge, actually.”

“How are you finding Wellington?” Jason asked, clearly intrigued.

“It’s fantastic. I just wish I could stay longer. We were about to get some lunch, if you want to join us,” she added recklessly. She knew Reece was about to call it a day but the meal could tack on another half hour of face time with this, the world’s most frustrating love interest.

“I was on my way for a Chinese,” Jason said, still giving Libby that hungry look she was so accustomed to it bored her.

She looked to her left. “Reece?”

For once, he didn’t twitch a muscle of protest. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Libby’s heart leapt.

Jason nudged Reece with a smirk. “You look like a tourist with that camera, mate.”

Reece settled beside Libby in a booth after they placed their lunch orders at the counter. He was happy to have this break—he could use another person to distract him from his charge’s exhausting energy.

“So your brother’s looking well,” Jason said as he sat down across from them.

“Yeah, he’s doing all right. Working all the bloody time.”

“And your sister?”

“She had a baby in December, if Colin hadn’t mentioned it.”

“Damn. I remember when she was seventeen and we all thought she was so sophisticated.”

“So did she,” Reece said.

“And your mum?”

“She’s…she’s all right. She’s tired, you know. Still works at the pub every afternoon. She misses my dad.”

They made a bit of small talk about Jason’s family until their orders were called. Once they were seated again, Jason said, “So what brings you here, Libby? Holiday?”

“Half. Half-research. I’m starting on a PhD through the folks at the Karori Sanctuary and the university.”

“Well, that’s very impressive.”

Reece frowned to himself, displeased by the wave of sexual interest Jason had sent crashing in her direction.

“So what does your wife do, Jason?” Libby asked smoothly, her gaze zeroing in on his ring finger.

He stumbled a second before answering.

Reece nudged Libby’s knee with his, and when she glanced sideways he let her see his smirk. He was impressed—or at least relieved. Her capacity for shameless flirtation clearly had its limits.

Reece surrendered the rest of the meal’s conversation to Libby and Jason. He wasn’t much of a talker, and besides, there wasn’t really anything positive to share on the topic of his family’s recent fortunes. Or misfortunes. And to be honest, he sort of enjoyed Libby when she wasn’t at his throat. When she was faced with a third party she didn’t turn completely docile, but she dialed back her intensity to a level that was more like banter than verbal assault. She was quick and she wasn’t a fluffy conversationalist. She wasn’t so bad, really, Reece decided. Maybe Annie had a point.

Libby shook Jason’s hand as they exited into the afternoon sunshine. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too. Enjoy the rest of your visit. Good to see you again, Reece. What nights are you tending bar these days?”

“Varies. Wednesdays and Fridays, usually. But only for the next couple months. Stop by, though. It’ll be good to see you.”