“What?”
“The shuttle guy. Things like that. How did he know when to
be there?”
Drew looked a bit embarrassed. “Gave him a window, that’s
all. I had a fair idea of how long it would take us.”
“It’s going to be hard to go back to my regular old life,
after all this luxury,” she sighed. “I’m not used to this.”
“Then we’d better make sure you enjoy it. Get your money’s
worth out of your holiday.”
“I think I’ve already got that,” she smiled at him.
“Glad to hear it. And here’s the next surprise,” he
announced, pulling off onto a side street as they passed through a tiny town on
their way back to their lakeside bach.
“I’m not sure I can walk any more,” she said doubtfully.
“And I’m pretty sweaty.”
“Then you’ll like this even more.” He pulled a duffel from
the back of the truck and walked with her into a modest building set amongst
native plantings and a river. More steam rose from the ground all around the
area.
“It’s a bath house,” she exclaimed. “So there’s a spa, or
something.”
“Built on the local iwi’s—the tribe’s—medicinal hot pools. They
own it, and run it. I’ll show you.”
After negotiating with the Maori woman at the front desk, Drew
walked with Hannah through a gate, and they were outdoors again, on a concrete
sidewalk with a wooden building on either side.
“Go take a shower,” he instructed, showing her the changing
room and handing her a large towel from the bag. “And I’ll meet you out here
again.”
“I don’t have a suit, though,” she protested.
“Just wrap up in the towel,” he insisted.
“Drew,” she told him as she came out of the changing room to
find him waiting, barechested and wrapped in his own towel. “Much as I’d enjoy
seeing you, I can’t get naked in a pool full of people.”
He laughed. “No worries. I know that by now.” He held out
the key, then turned toward one of the wooden doors along the sidewalk.
“Private,” he explained as he opened the door.
The simple concrete-floored area was partially open to the
sky, but was otherwise an enclosed room. A wooden bench ran along the length of
the back wall, but the bulk of the space was taken up by a huge, rectangular
bath of steaming water.
“This isn’t a spa,” Hannah exclaimed. “It’s a pool. I could
swim in this.”
“Awesome, eh,” he grinned. “Most tourists never know about
this. Best thing about doing the Tongariro Crossing. Especially with you,” he added,
tugging her towel off and leading her down the steps into the pool.
She sighed, stretching out in the hot, mineral-laden water,
feeling it soaking into her aching muscles. “You’re right. This is a treat. How
long do we get in here?”
“I paid for thirty minutes. And I told her to give us more
time, if we needed it. We can stay in here as long as we like. Until you’re
cooked through.”
That wasn’t all he had in mind, she discovered. Relaxed in
the bone-melting heat of the water, she found his hands wandering over her
body, underneath the water.
“Mmmmm,” she hummed, leaning her head back against the edge.
“That feels really good.”
“What does?” he asked, his hands sliding over her breasts.
“Everything,” she admitted, her breath catching. He petted
and stroked her until she felt liquid inside and outside, then gently guided
her onto him. She buried her head in the side of his neck and let him move her
as he pleased. She had never felt so warm, so boneless.
Slowly, slowly, the heat built. Each time Drew pulled her
into him, her temperature seemed to rise. She lost the ability to move herself,
became pliable in his hands as he moved her over him. Her entire being seemed
to center on her warm core, where he touched her. It grew and built until,
finally, she shattered over him, the strong contractions seeming to wring the
last of the strength from her body. In answer, he emptied into her with a long
groan of pleasure.
Afterwards, she curled against him, the water lapping around
them.
“Hannah,” he smiled against her hair. “Don’t go to sleep, now.”
“Hmmm?” she murmured, lifting her head at last. “Oh,” she
sighed. “Is it time to get out?”
“I reckon,” he answered solemnly. “Or they’re going to find
us in here, melted.”
She smiled languidly. “I’m not sure how you do that.”
“Do what?” he asked, stroking her face and kissing her
gently.
“Make me feel so good.” She leaned back and looked into his
face.
“It’s hard work. But I think I’m up to the challenge.”
“I think you are,” she sighed blissfully.
She was embarrassed watching him pay for two more fifteen-minute
sessions, after they had at last showered and changed into the clean clothes he
had brought.
“Did you enjoy it, then?” the motherly woman asked them.
“Very much,” Drew answered with a smile.
“She could tell what we were doing,” Hannah whispered as
they left.
“Reckon she could. And reckon we aren’t the first ones to do
it,” he answered cheerfully. “But I like to think nobody enjoyed it more.”
“You know, I think I’ve made up those whole three years by
now,” Hannah told him the next morning as they lay in bed, looking out over the
view of lake and mountains. “And we still have five more days. I guess that’s a
down payment on the next year or so.”
She felt a pang even as she said it. She had deliberately
avoided thinking about the time they had left. Now, she forced herself to look
at the situation squarely. She was going to leave.
That’s why this was a bad idea, she thought again. Oh well. She
had done it now. She would just have to compartmentalize, that was all. Enjoy
it while it lasted, and move on. That’s what other people did, after all. She
knew she wouldn’t have given this up, now that she knew how good it was, no
matter how she might feel later.
Drew held her to him more closely. “Why don’t you stay
longer? There are so many more places I could show you. Things we could do,” he
grinned. “
Interesting
things. But seriously. We can change your ticket, give
you another week or two. Go to the South Island for a bit.”
Her heart leapt, but she knew it was impossible. “I have to
get back,” she said firmly, to herself as much as him. “I’ve never taken this
much time as it is. It’s a busy season, and I’m needed at my job. Besides, I
saved all my vacation time for the year to take this trip. I don’t have as much
as a day left.”
“You only get three weeks, then?” he asked in surprise.
“I’m lucky to have that,” she protested. “I only started to
get three weeks after five years with the company. Most people just get two
weeks. Why, how much vacation time do people get here?”
“Four weeks minimum, plus public holidays, of course. Two
weeks,” he said, stunned. “That’s shocking. Don’t see how you do it.”
“Well, we don’t all have to recover from rugby seasons, so
it isn’t that bad. I’m used to it, I suppose. But that’s why this trip has been
so wonderful. One of the reasons,” she amended. “I’ve never had this much time
off in my life, not since I was old enough to work, at least. And meeting you
made it even better. I wish I didn’t have to leave. But I have to get back to
my life. And you have to get back to yours, I know.”
“I do take trips to the States, though,” he objected. “The
planes fly both ways these days. The end of your holiday doesn’t have to mean
that we never see each other again.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Would you want to do that?”
“Think you’re selling yourself short. Yeh, I want to keep
seeing you. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I like spending time with you. I’ve
got bugger all fishing done while you’ve been here. My mates will tell you that
if I’m not fishing on my holidays, something’s up.”
“I’m right up there competing with the fish, am I? I’m
flattered. But I’d love to see you again after I go back. If it works out.”
But she wouldn’t get her hopes up, she thought privately. It
was obvious that Drew had plenty of chances to meet women. Once she was across
the Pacific again, she doubted that the relationship, if that was what they
had, would be sustainable. The distance was just too great. It was hard enough
for couples to maintain something that involved driving more than a few hours,
she knew. And they’d only had a couple weeks together to build on.
She’d enjoy this now, she told herself, and be happily
surprised if she saw him again. Not that there would be much difference in her
social life, she admitted. Even less, now. Nobody else was going to look very
good, after him.
Time passed far too quickly. Before she knew it, it seemed,
they were driving south to Auckland again, toward the plane that would take her
home. Drew had taken her to the quiet, nearly deserted beaches of the Far North
during their final days together, where they had stayed in yet another house he
had borrowed from a friend. He had joked that he simply wanted to get her into
the tangerine suit again.
“Can’t keep you naked all the time,” he had told her. “You
keep insisting on getting out of bed. But those togs are the next best thing.”
They had spent a blissful few days swimming, kayaking, and
snorkeling in the warm waters. No wetsuit needed, she thought now with a smile.
Which had suited her just fine, too. Familiarity with Drew’s body hadn’t bred
any contempt. None at all.
On their last day, he had hired a guide to take them on a
private tour to swim with the dolphins. One of the most wondrous experiences of
her life. And one of the most bittersweet. Watching the playful mammals swim
around her, leaping and frolicking, seeming to smile at her with their
intelligent eyes, had brought her pure joy. They had seemed so curious, coming
close, it seemed, just to check the two of them out, to play with them. She
would never forget the feeling, she knew.
The fact that Drew had arranged the trip, that he was willing
to go to so much effort to please her, had been wonderful too. But knowing she
had to leave the next day, that this was their last time together . . . the
realization had kept catching up with her unexpectedly, bringing waves of
sadness that threatened to overwhelm her. In fact, she admitted, she was
feeling fairly miserable right now, watching him next to her, knowing she was
about to leave.
You had a fantastic vacation, she scolded herself. You met
the man of any woman’s dreams, and had a wonderful time with him. You got more
than your money’s worth. Back to reality now, that was all. And, she reminded
herself, she would see her brother and sister again, and her friends. And get
back to her job, see what was happening, pick up the reins again.
But somehow, the prospect wasn’t as attractive as it should
have been. She had thought she’d be champing at the bit to get back to her job
after the unprecedentedly long break. She realized now that, after the first
day or two, she had barely thought about the office. She had told Emery and
Beth that they could email her, she realized with a shocked start. Yet she
hadn’t gone online since her second day. Not once. She sighed guiltily. She hoped
there hadn’t been a crisis.
If there had, they could handle it, she reminded herself
now. But what if Kristen had had a problem? Or Matt? She had been so selfish,
she thought in dismay, her heart beating harder as she envisioned her siblings
needing her, not being able to reach her.
Drew glanced over at her as he drove. “You’re quiet. Everything
all right?”
She sighed again. “I was just realizing how selfish I’ve
been,” she said wretchedly. “I’ve never even checked my email. I don’t know how
my brother and sister are doing. If they’ve needed me, and not been able to get
hold of me. Not to mention work. I said I would check in, and then I never did.
How could I have done that? Just walked away from all my responsibilities?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t think you did that,” he
commented mildly. “You went on holiday, that’s all. Everyone needs a holiday.
Reckon you needed it more than most. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Put
everything out of your head, think about something else for a change. Keeps you
fit, eh. Nobody can focus all the time.”
“I think you’re being too easy on me. But thanks. There
isn’t too much I could have done from here anyway, I guess.”
“And I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Do your
sister and brother check in with you, then, when they’re on holiday?”
“No,” she admitted. “And I worry about them when they’re
away. Especially Matt. I always feel better when I hear from him again, once
he’s home. I never thought about it that way. But that’s different. They’re
used to counting on me. To my being there for them. It isn’t the same thing.”
“They’re grown, though, aren’t they,” he said gently. “It
may be better for them to solve their own problems. Hard to grow up if you can
count on someone else pulling you out of the fire every time.”
“You sound just like Susannah. She says the same thing. That
I baby them, and they count on me too much to rescue them. That I’m keeping
them from growing up.”
“She may have something there,” he responded seriously.
“Think about it. Maybe this holiday was a good start for you. I know it was
good for me,” he said with a grin.
“You know it was good for me,” she laughed. “You made it
good for me. Many times.”
“But you know that I really am grateful to you for everything.
It was the best time,” she added more seriously. “Thank you for that.”
“Well, it was an effort,” he sighed. “But it’s every Kiwi’s
duty to see that the tourists have a good experience, want to come back.”
She swatted him on the arm. “You’d be busy, if you showed
every tourist that kind of good time. I know you’re good, but even for you, that
might be too much.”
“You’re right. Reckon it’s better if I focus on you. Quality
over quantity.”