Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4) (6 page)

“That’s good of you. Not everyone would be
so nice about it.”

He shrugged, and it was clear to Bridget
that he didn’t understand how he could have reacted in any other way. “We’re
waiting for them to make a decision. Unfortunately, though, they couldn’t stop
her moving to Wellington. She’s been here six months, and I fly down every
other weekend to spend some time with Mat.”

“That must be hard.”

“It is.” He looked out of the window. “I’m
forcing her to stay in New Zealand, and she hates me for it. She punishes me
every way she can. I’m not sure what to do for the best. Should I withdraw my
case against her and let her leave the country, in which case I’ll only see my
son probably once a year if I travel to Spain, and make him unhappy because he
doesn’t want to go? I’ve tried my best to make it work with her, but her
resentment is rooted too deep. She could never love me now.”

“Do you still love her?” Bridget asked
softly.

It wasn’t the sort of question she would
ever have asked a stranger normally, but this situation was so far removed from
normal that she felt as if she could discuss anything with him, sitting there
in the semi darkness, the taste of wine in her mouth, the TV flickering in the
background, the boy snoring gently in the bed.

“I’m not quite sure what that means
anymore.” He sipped his wine. “She’ll always be Mat’s mother, and because of
that I’ll always have some affection for her. And because of the history we’ve
shared, even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could forget the intense passion
we had for a while. But what is love? Feeling comfortable and content with
someone. Being safe and secure. Desiring them. Wanting to be with them all the
time, to have them to yourself. Feeling as if life is better when you’re with
them. Well, I don’t feel any of those things. She doesn’t wear my ring. She’s
not mine anymore. So no, I don’t think I love her. Not like I used to, anyway.”

Bridget nodded. “Have you thought about
trying to get custody of Mat yourself?”

“I’ve considered it, but I don’t want to
put the boy through more than he’s been through already. And Nita’s a good
mother—she loves her son, and it wouldn’t feel right to take him away from her.
There isn’t an answer that will satisfy everyone. Someone’s going to suffer,
and as I’m the man, I guess it’s going to be me.” His lips twisted.

“It’s unfair,” she whispered.

“Yeah. But what can you do?” He sipped his
wine. “So I’ve told you my life story. It’s your turn now. If you want to.”

Aaron had surprised himself by opening up
like that. He’d been known to subside into melancholy and talk
ad nauseum
about his woes to Joe, his business partner, usually after they’d shared half a
bottle of whisky, but it was a long time since he’d talked to anyone else about
Nita, and about what had happened between them.

He turned the wine glass around in his
fingers, watching the woman sitting opposite him. Now she was calmer, the
redness had faded from her eyes to leave them a shining blue. Her hair had
dried to a bright blonde, strands creeping out from her braid to curl around
her cheeks. With her face clean of makeup she looked young, although maybe not
as young as he’d first thought—mid to late twenties, maybe. Her pale lips
looked soft. He imagined that if he kissed them, it would feel like kissing
rose petals.

“You have big hands,” she said.

His eyebrows rose, and he turned the hand
on the table, looking at the creased palm. Yeah, maybe they were big—strong,
capable hands, used to lifting, handling, holding. “Big feet too,” he said,
waving one around.

“Hmm. Big feet, big…”

He met her gaze to find her eyes alight
with mischievousness. Her impish smile lit up her whole face and turned it from
pretty to stunningly beautiful.

“Shoes,” he finished, his heart rate
picking up.

She held his gaze for a beat longer than
was necessary before she laughed. She liked him. It was so unexpected it took
his breath away.

Then her smile faded, and he remembered why
she was there.
Idiot
, he scolded himself. The last thing she needed was
to have some random guy flirting with her. She needed a father figure to
comfort her, nothing more.

“There’s not much to say,” she said in answer
to his query about her life story.

“I don’t believe that.” He stretched out
his legs. “How long had you been dating—what was his name? Mal?”

“Seven years.”

His eyebrows rose. “And he’d only just
asked you to marry him?”

“It must seem positively glacial compared
to the speed of your commitment,” she teased.

“A bit. But seven years is ridiculous.” She
was gorgeous. Why would a man not want to get his ring on her finger as soon as
he could to tell every other guy she was his?

She shrugged and brought up her feet so she
could rest her heels on the edge of the seat, her knees against the table. “It
was a very on-off relationship.”

“You’ve broken up before?” He remembered
her brother’s words:
She’s always gone back for more.

“Several times. It became a thing—I don’t
know why.” She stared out the window, where the light had now faded and stars
were beginning to pop out against the darkening sky. “After the first couple of
times, neither of us took it very seriously. We’d argue, I’d walk out, we’d
wait a week, then he’d beg me to come back, and I’d give in. It was just what
happened. A game we played, I suppose.”

“What did you argue about?”

“Usually him not being committed enough. It
makes me sound like an awful nag, but I’d watch my friends with their partners
and see how their guys didn’t seem to want to be apart from them—like you said,
love is wanting to be with someone all the time. He was never like that. He
would much rather have been with his mates than be with me, unless it was an
event where he needed a girlfriend, and then he’d want me. It all sounds so
bloody immature and childish now.” She took a mouthful of wine, color touching
her cheeks.

“But he did propose in the end?”

“Only because I gave him an ultimatum.” Her
eyes had dulled and lost their shine. “I told him that if he didn’t grow up and
make a proper commitment, we were done for good. I refused to see him for
several weeks, and I think he got into a panic. He proposed over the phone.”

“Jeez.” At least Aaron had done better than
that. He’d arranged a romantic dinner in an expensive restaurant, and had the
waiter bringing the ring over with the dessert on a tray. Not that it had made
any difference to the final outcome of the relationship, obviously, so maybe he
was the mug.

“I should have known,” Bridget said. “He
was halfhearted about the whole thing. He didn’t want a church wedding, didn’t
want any guests or fuss. He even stated that he didn’t want me to buy a big
dress. I was so pleased he’d finally proposed that I went along with
everything. But I should have known.”

She rested her lips on her knees, looking
down at the table. Aaron could feel the embarrassment and anger radiating from
her.

“You said you were more upset by the
humiliation of being jilted than about losing him,” he pointed out. “So why did
you keep taking him back?”

Without moving her head, her gaze rose to
meet his.

“I’m not accusing, by the way,” he added.
“I suspect your answer will be the same as mine, but I’m interested to know.”

Her gaze dropped back to the table. “He was
safe. The devil I knew, I suppose. He’s the only guy I’ve ever dated.” Her eyes
met his again.

His eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yeah. I suppose some kids might have gone
off the rails after having both parents die, but not me. Hitch had to battle to
keep me—he was only eighteen, and he put off going to university so he could
look after me. I was always very grateful for that. I knew what he’d had to
sacrifice. He did his best, but he was never very good at hiding his
frustration. Those years when he should have been going out with his mates,
meeting girls, getting drunk—he stayed at home with me and made sure I did my
homework. Or he worked, in part time jobs here and there, whatever he could
get. I adored him for that, and I was determined not to disappoint him. I
worked hard through school and then at university. I wanted him to be proud of
me.”

“He sounded it,” Aaron said, smiling.

“Oh he is—I know that. We’re very close,
and I wouldn’t give that up for anything. But it also made me… I don’t know,
timid, I suppose, unless I’m just like that naturally. I didn’t date anyone at
high school, nor at university, not until right at the end, when I met Mal. He
was young, good looking, smart, funny…”

“I hate him already.”

She chuckled. “He played rugby—half my year
level idolized him. I didn’t think I stood a chance with a guy like him, but to
be fair he was patient and gentle with me. He wasn’t all bad. I had stars in my
eyes for years. I suppose he knew that I loved him more than he did me, and
that allowed him to string me along.”

“And now? Do you still love him?” She’d
asked him the same question, and he wondered, when her hurt and humiliation
died down, whether she would go back for more.

“No.” Her tone was flat, emotionless. “I
can’t imagine any excuse he could come up with that would justify what he did
to me. If he loved me, he would never have abandoned me like that. It was a
horrible thing to do to someone. I wouldn’t have done it to my worst enemy, let
alone the person I professed to love. He had plenty of time to tell me he was
having second thoughts. I don’t believe that everything was fine right up until
this morning, and suddenly he changed his mind. I don’t think he had any
intention of going through with it, and that in itself is enough to make me
despise him.”

Aaron didn’t particularly want to stand up
for the guy, and he knew her brother thought keeping Mal’s words secret would
help her get over him, but he couldn’t bear to see the hurt in her eyes. He
leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “It’s possible he didn’t think it
through and just panicked this morning, and that he didn’t mean to hurt you.
You said he wasn’t all bad, and it certainly sounds as if he’s always had
feelings for you. Apparently when he saw Hitch, he said he was sorry, and that
he still loves you and still wants to marry you.”

Her eyes met his, thoughtful, puzzled. “Did
Hitch tell you not to tell me what he said?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I suppose he thought it might make you
inclined to forgive Mal, and it sounds as if he wants to murder the guy—I’m
sure the last thing he wants is for you to get back with him.”

“So why are you telling me?”

“It’s not my place to withhold information
from you. I think you should know all the facts before you make a decision.”

She sucked her bottom lip. He couldn’t help
but drop his gaze to it. As he watched, she moistened her lips with the tip of
her tongue, a tiny, innocent gesture that nevertheless sent his pulse pounding.
He raised his gaze back to hers, his heart missing a beat to see her eyes fixed
on his.

They looked at each other for a long
moment, and Aaron’s head spun. Something shifted inside him, making him catch
his breath, the world slanting as if someone had tipped the camera and skewed
the shot. He almost gripped the edge of the table so he didn’t fall off his
chair. She felt it too—he saw it in the flare of her eyes, the parting of her
lips. It took all the willpower he possessed not to lean across the table and
press his lips to hers.

He reined himself in sharply.
For fuck’s
sake, Reed
. He had to get things in perspective. He didn’t believe in Fate.
It had been pure coincidence that he’d been the one walking past her on the
quay at that exact moment. Their meeting wasn’t written in the stars—she wasn’t
his soul mate or anything else remotely romantic like that. What he was feeling
at the moment was a connection born out of a false intimacy, the kind that grew
when actors worked together on a movie set. The last time he’d acted on
impulse, he’d set off a sequence of events that had ended in nothing but
misery. He had to be cautious and sensible.

“What do you think I should do?” she
whispered.

“It’s not my place to say.”

“Even so.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Tell him to
fuck off and die. Find a decent guy who’ll worship the ground you walk on.”

Her lips gradually curved up. “I see.”

“I’m sure your brother would agree with
me.”

“I’m sure he would, too.” She rubbed her
nose, her eyes shining.

It was getting dark in the room. He stood
and walked over to the kitchenette, switched the small lights on opposite the
bed, then picked up the half-full bag of Maltesers and brought them back.
Sitting at the table, he tipped some of them out and rolled them toward her.
She took one and popped it in her mouth, and he did the same.

“So what do you want to do?” He sucked off
the chocolate, then crunched the honeycomb. “Do you want to give him another
chance?”

She crunched hers. Then she shook her head.
“No. I’m done.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed and then popped
another chocolate in her mouth. “I appreciate what you said about him not
meaning to hurt me, but he did, and I can’t forgive that.”

“I’m glad.”

She turned her head and rested her cheek on
her drawn-up knees, still looking at him. “I think I’ve gone back to him all
this time because I’ve been frightened about being on my own. I lost my
parents, and Hitch loves to travel, so he’s away a lot… I was scared of being
alone. And I know that relationships take work. Everyone says that, and I was
determined that mine wouldn’t fail. I didn’t want to fail, you know? And
standing on the quay, I thought I had failed, and that I was going to be alone
forever. And then you came along.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sir Lancelot.”

His lips curved up. “I’ve never been called
that before.”

“Oh, come on. You’re a vet. I heard what
you said to your ex about three dogs and two cats. You must have spent your
life rescuing lost things.”

“That is true, actually. But I don’t think
you should put yourself in that class. I didn’t rescue you. I don’t think you
would have jumped into the harbor. You were upset and needed comfort, but I
think you’re very strong deep down. Even if I hadn’t been there, you would have
worked out what to do.”