Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4) (4 page)

“We can go anywhere you like. You don’t
have to come back here.”

“No, thanks.”

“What about if Rowan comes around? Or
Callie?”

“No. I just want to be on my own for a
while.”

She heard him blow out a breath. “All
right,” he said. “But you’re safe? You’re okay?”

“I’m safe.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

She wasn’t okay, and he knew that.

“Mal’s a fucking idiot, Birdie. You’re
better off without him.”

Deep down, she knew that, but it was too
soon for her heart to accept it. Her eyes welled with tears. She pushed the
phone into Aaron’s hand, went into the bathroom, and shut the door.

Aaron stared at the phone in his hand. She
hadn’t pressed anything, so whomever she’d been talking to was still there.

He hovered his thumb over the red button.
This was none of his business. How had he gotten himself involved? He’d only
meant to be a good Samaritan, but that didn’t mean he needed to become
entangled in something that was nothing to do with him.

Then he sighed. Who was he kidding? When
had he ever been able to look in the other direction when someone needed help?

He held the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Who is this?” A guy’s voice, defensive,
angry.

“Hi. My name’s Aaron. This is my phone,” he
said, somewhat wryly. “I just wanted to let you know that Bridget’s with me,
and she’s okay, just a bit upset, which is understandable, from what I gather.”

“Why is she with you? Where are you?”

“I found her on the quay. She was soaked
through and freezing, and I was worried about her. I’m staying in a hotel not
far away, so I persuaded her to come back with me.” He realized how that must
sound to this guy who was—what? Not old enough to be her father. Brother? “I’m
staying here with my seven-year-old son,” he said, thinking it made him sound
more trustworthy. “I’m a vet,” he added, as he always did, because people
seemed to like vets.

“I want her to come home,” the guy said.
“Tell me which hotel you’re in.”

“Can’t do that. Sorry. Look, I’m talking to
you because I know you’re worried about her, and I wanted to reassure you that
she’s okay. I appreciate that you must be out of your mind with worry, and I’m
not keeping her location a secret out of anything other than respect for her
wishes—I hope you can believe that.”

“I’ll try,” the guy said.

“What’s your name?” Aaron asked.

“Everyone calls me Hitch. It’s our surname—Hitchcock.”

“Right. Look, Hitch, I don’t want to ask
Bridget because I don’t want to upset her, but I presume her husband-to-be
didn’t turn up today?”

“Yeah. Fucking bastard. He did have the
cheek to come around here an hour ago, though. Wanted to apologize.” Hitch gave
a derisive snort.

“Jesus.” Aaron would have echoed Hitch’s
curse if Mateo hadn’t been in the room. “What did you say to him?”

“Didn’t get a chance to say much. A mate of
mine floored him.”

“Good to hear.”

“Yeah. My only regret is that I didn’t get
to do it myself.”

“What did he say?”

“The idiot cried like a baby. Said he’d
thought he wasn’t ready, but that he still loves her and still wants to marry
her.” Hitch hesitated. “Don’t tell her that.”

“I won’t. Not that I think it will matter.”

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time
they’ve broken up and gotten back together. He’s got some kind of hold over
her. I’ve never understood it. He’s never treated her very well, and she’s
always gone back for more.”

“Being jilted isn’t something she’s likely
to forgive in a rush though, right?”

“Maybe.”

Aaron could hear the uncertainty and
frustration in Hitch’s voice. Her brother obviously hadn’t experienced that
sort of relationship for himself. Aaron thought about Nita—about their long
love/hate relationship, about how many times he’d tried to make it work, even
though most men would have walked away years ago. Yes, he understood how
Bridget would be feeling. She’d be wishing her fiancé was dead at the same time
as missing him with all her heart.

“What are you going to do now?” Hitch
wanted to know.

“I gave her some clothes to change into—she
needed to get out of the dress. I’ve just made her a cup of tea. I might see if
I can get her to eat something. Afterward, I’ll ask her what she wants to do. I
can book her another room here for the night, or I can call her a taxi,
whatever she wants. She doesn’t have anything on her—no phone or purse, but
I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“Thanks,” Hitch said. “I appreciate it. She
was lucky you happened to be passing.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Aaron wanted to protest
that he was only doing what anyone else would have done, but then he thought of
the two men who’d passed her and laughed. Maybe not.

“Can I call this number if I need to?”
Hitch asked.

“Of course, any time.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Hitch hung up.

Aaron slipped the phone into his pocket,
added some milk to the tea in the two mugs, then knocked softly on the bathroom
door. “Bridget? Want your tea?”

For a moment she didn’t say anything, and
he wondered whether she was going to refuse to come out. Then the door opened
slowly. She’d been crying again. In fact, as she stood there, more tears tipped
over her lashes and ran down her cheeks. He’d never seen anyone look so unhappy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, so forlorn his
heart went out to her.

“Aw, come here.” Without thinking, he
reached out and pulled her into his arms. At that moment, he just wanted to
give comfort.

She stood rigidly for a moment, and then
she softened and curled up against him, her cheek on his shoulder, her arms sliding
around him.

He rubbed her back and whispered, “Shhh.”
Although she was tall for a girl, maybe five nine or ten, she was still around
four inches shorter than he was, and was small and slight in his arms. Once
again, he felt a strong urge to protect her, to keep her safe.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve
this.”

“It’s all right. I’m used to it. Wounded
things have a way of seeking me out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a vet, remember? I’m a sucker for a
sad stray. Come on.” With an arm still around her, he led her into the room and
over to the other bed.

Mateo had risen onto his knees when she’d
come out, and now he got off the bed and came over.

“Can you pull back the duvet?” Aaron asked
him. The boy did so, and Aaron steered her to the bed. “Sit down.” When she
complied, he lifted her feet and she automatically lay down. He covered her
over. “I’ll get your tea,” he said. He went over to the counter and put a few
chocolate biscuits on a plate. Then he brought them back to her.

He stopped at the side of the bed and
stared.

“I think she’s asleep,” Mateo said.

“Wow. I wish you went to sleep that
quickly.”

“She’s in your bed,” the boy pointed out.
“Where are you going to sleep, Dad?”

Aaron remembered the press of her breasts
against his chest—like two small soft cushions without the support of a bra—and
had to resist the urge to slip under the covers and wrap himself around her. “I
doubt she’ll sleep for long. But if she does, I’ll have your bed and you can
sleep on the floor.”

“Dad…”

“It’s all right, I’ll lend you a pillow.”

“You’re such a tease.” Mateo dragged him
back to the other bed. “Play a game with me?”

“Sure. Just give me a minute.”

He found a rubbish bag under the sink and
went into the bathroom. Her clothing lay in a heap on the floor. He picked up
the dress, folded it, and placed it in the bag, then added the rest of the
items, trying not to stare at the lacy bodice and panties. Wrapping up the bag,
he took it out and left it on the counter. He’d decide what to do with it
later.

A ring sat on the basin. He picked that up
too and slid it into his pocket.

He tipped her tea away and took his over to
the bed, joining his son. Mateo turned on Aaron’s iPad, and they played a
succession of games, then broke up his Lego digger and began to build the other
truck in the leaflet.

While they played, the rain continued to
hammer down outside. Normally, he’d have taken his son to Te Papa or to the
cinema, but that would have meant venturing out in the rough weather again, and
besides, he didn’t want to leave Bridget on her own.

A couple of hours passed. Aaron made him
and Mateo another drink, and they ate the chocolate biscuits as they played and
watched a kids’ movie. From time to time, he glanced across at her. She didn’t
toss and turn, or make any noise, just breathed slowly and quietly. Without her
makeup and in his sweatshirt she looked younger but still as beautiful, her
pale skin bearing a few freckles across her nose and cheeks, her hair gradually
drying to a pretty blonde. How strange that she’d just appeared in his life
like this. Within a few hours she’d probably be gone, and he doubted he’d ever
see her again.

In his pocket, his phone vibrated. Thinking
it might be Hitch again, he pulled it out, only to see the name Nita.

Rising from the bed, he swiped the screen
and answered it softly. “Hi.” He walked back to the kitchenette—hardly miles
away, but it might mean he was less likely to wake Bridget.

“Hi. How is it going?” she said in her strong
Spanish accent.

“Yeah, fine. We’re making a Lego digger for
the umpteenth time.”

“You should not keep buying him Lego,
Aaron. We have so many boxes of it.” Her voice was full of irritation and he’d
only said a couple of sentences. Clearly, it was going to be that sort of
conversation.

“I know, but the boy’s got to have
something to do in the hotel room.”

“So take him out.”

“Have you seen the weather?” He didn’t want
to argue with her, not now. “Do you want to speak to him?”

“Yes, please.”

He walked back to the bed and handed his
son the phone. Gesturing to Bridget, he put a finger to his lips, and Mateo
nodded.

“Hi Mum,” the boy said in a mock whisper.
He listened, then whispered, “Yes, we bought some ice cream but it was raining
so we came back.”

Nita obviously then asked him why he was
whispering, because he answered, “Because Bridget’s sleeping in the other bed.”

Aaron closed his eyes momentarily. He
should have asked Mateo not to mention her, but it wasn’t fair to ask the boy
to keep a secret from his mother.

“Um… we found her on the quay,” Mateo said.
“She was getting married but the man didn’t turn up… Because she was wet. She’s
wearing Daddy’s sweatshirt… Um… I’ll give you back to Daddy.” Mateo passed the
phone back to him, pulling a comical
eek
face.

Aaron tried not to laugh and walked away.
“Hello?”

“What the hell is going on?” Nita’s tone
was clipped and curt. “There is a woman in your hotel room?”

“It’s not what you think. She was in
trouble and we helped her out.”

“That is unacceptable, Aaron. It is
disgusting. You cannot bring women back to your room when our son is there.”

“She’d been jilted at the altar,” he said,
starting to get irritated. “She was on the quay in her wedding dress, soaked
through, and I offered to help.”

“What is it with you? Why do you always
have to help?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“If it is not people it is animals.
Hundreds and hundreds of them, running riot in the house, spreading diseases.”

“At the most there were three dogs and a
couple of cats, Nita, don’t exaggerate. It’s my job.”

“It is your job to stitch them up. You have
a surgery. It is not your job to take them home and personally nurse every one
of them.”

Aaron gave up. He’d never win an argument
with her in this mood, and he didn’t even want to try. “I’ve got to go—it’s
time for Mat’s tea.”

“What are you giving him?”

“Burger and chips, non-diet soda, and ice
cream with sprinkles full of E numbers.”

“Aaron!”

“I’ll speak to you later.” He hung up.

He turned and then stopped, surprised to
see Bridget awake and watching him.

“I’m causing trouble,” she said, pulling
back the covers and sitting up. “I should go.”

“Absolutely you’re not.” He put his phone
in the pocket of his jeans. “I’m sorry about that. Nita is…” He glanced at
Mateo. He never criticized her in front of the boy, even though at times he
wanted to call her all the names under the sun. “Complicated,” he chose.

Her eyes told him she understood. “I’m
sorry,” she whispered.

He shrugged and checked his watch. It was
nearly five o’clock. “How do you feel?” he asked, looking back at her.

“A bit better.” She looked better too,
calmer, less panicky.

“I thought we could go down to the hotel
restaurant and have some dinner. Would you like to join us?”

“I… I couldn’t. I’ve imposed on you enough.
I really should go.”

“Why don’t you have something to eat?” he
said gently. “Later, you can call your brother if you like, or whatever you
want.”

“I don’t have any money,” she admitted.

“It’s okay, I’ll pay. You can always send
me a check later.” He smiled.

She nibbled her bottom lip. She probably
hadn’t eaten since the morning, and maybe if she’d been nervous she might not
even have had breakfast. “I am a bit hungry,” she admitted. Then she looked
down at her herself. “I can’t go looking like this, though. Everything’s too
big, and I don’t have any shoes.”