White-Hot Christmas (15 page)

“Normally you have to be welcomed onto a
marae
.” He held her hand as he showed her some of the carvings. “But this is a public one, which isn’t quite the same. At the high school I went to in Kerikeri, all the new students have to go to a
powhiri
—” he pronounced it “porfiri”, hardening the
R
, “—where they’re welcomed into the Māori ‘family’.”

“I’d like to see a Māori dance,” she said, knowing there was a performance at the main centre in the grounds.

He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m playing rugby tomorrow. We don’t normally play in summer but it’s a special charity match. If you want to come and watch, we always do the
Ka Mate
haka
at the beginning. You won’t have to pay for that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Like the All Blacks?”

“Yup.” He grinned. “You want me right now, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. Quick, get your clothes off.”

He laughed, leading her out of the
marae
into the sunshine. “Easy, tiger. We’ll be back soon enough.”

After they’d finished at the Treaty Grounds, he drove them into the seaside town of Paihia and they had a walk around the shops, then afterward they went over on the foot ferry to Russell. It was a small, beautiful town, and she laughed when he told her in the nineteenth century it used to be called Kororareka, which means “sweet penguin”.

There they had lunch, sitting outside in the hot sun, Merle with her floppy hat, trying to protect her delicate English skin. “It’s so beautiful here,” she told him, looking across the bay. “I can see why they call it Godzone.”

“Would you like to live here?”

Merle studied him. Had he meant it as a general topic of conversation? Or was he asking her something else? His eyes were light, not serious, however, and she assumed it had been the former. She gave him a smile as she sipped her ice-cold lager. “It’s a beautiful place. I’d love to live here. But I have other obligations. My job. And my mum. I could never leave her. She needs me.”

The words stuck in her throat. It was so unfair. She felt a sweep of resentment toward her mother. Even though she’d been unwell, Susan didn’t have to make Merle feel so bad about finding a life for herself. She deserved a family and children as much as the next woman, didn’t she? Guilt quickly followed the resentment, however, and Merle sighed. She knew she shouldn’t blame her mum. Susan was lonely and scared. Of course she wanted her daughters around her. It was hardly an unfair demand.

“I know,” said Neon.

Their eyes met for a moment. Was there a flicker of sadness in his, or had she imagined it?

Afterward they came back on the ferry, and she was thrilled when she saw dolphins leaping in front of the boat, as if performing just for her.

He drove them back home and they had a swim, made love, had a shower and made love again. Merle lay on the bed afterward, breathless and exhausted, shaking her head as he got up and said he was going for a workout, amazed at his energy. They ate a light tea and later he brought her back to bed, kissing her slightly sunburned skin, continuing to pleasure her well into the night, as if trying to tell her again and again with his body that, although he couldn’t say it, he loved being with her and wanted the day to last forever.

On Wednesday morning, he drove her across country to the Hokianga on the west coast. They walked along the headland and she took photographs of him with the Tasman Sea crashing onto the rocks and the sand dunes in the background, then they had lunch in the picturesque village of Rawene before driving back for his rugby game in the afternoon.

“You can stay here if you want,” he told her as he dressed in his rugby shirt and shorts and laced up his boots. “But Bree will probably be going as Jake’s playing too.”

“There’s absolutely no way you’ll get me to stay here. A chance to see you playing rugby and doing the
haka
? Are you kidding me?”

He laughed, giving her a hug before ferreting around in a drawer for his mouth guard.

“Who are you playing anyway?”

“I used to play for a local team and they’re raising money for charity. It’s only a friendly.”

That’s not what she would have called it, she thought an hour later, wincing as Neon barrelled into an opposing player, crashing them both to the ground.

“Oh my God, they’re going to be covered in bruises,” she said to Bree, who was jumping up and down beside her.

Bree laughed. “They always are, but it doesn’t stop them.” She studied her sister, smiling. “Did you enjoy the
haka
?”

Merle looked at her and they both started laughing. Was there a woman in the world who could resist fifteen hulking men performing the
haka
? Right from the start she’d tingled all over as soon as the players began forming in three lines, facing the opposing team, who’d performed a
haka
themselves. She’d watched the All Blacks enough times to know one player acted as the leader, calling out i
nstructions to the others before they all joined in with the main chant. She went breathless as she saw Neon walk between the lines of men, yelling out in Māori for the others to take their warlike stance. Of
course
it would be him, she thought dizzily—who could be more of a leader than this six-foot-four hunk of walking masculinity? He widened his eyes, calling to the others to follow his lead, and her mouth went dry as they all began pounding their chests, performing the
Ka Mate
with a dazzling display of testosterone. If she’d thought she couldn’t be more attracted to him, she’d been very wrong. Yet again, the prehistoric, animal attraction, the lust of a female for a strong, powerful male swept over her. And she still had him to herself for the rest of the day and tomorrow. She was already planning what she was going to do to him when they got back to his place.

The match itself was more painful to watch, and she had to turn away several times as tackle followed crunching tackle, although she felt a surge of pride when Neon scored the third try. He slid across the grass and rolled over onto his back exultantly as the rest of his team piled on top of him.

Bree smiled, watching her as she yelled encouragement to him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She reached up and kissed Merle on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“I haven’t been to a rugby match in years.”

“I wasn’t talking about the rugby.”

Chapter Twelve

Merle looked across at her wryly. “I know what you meant.”

Bree squeezed her hand. “Jake and I were wondering if you two wanted to come out to dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?”

“To the Italian, maybe. We thought it would be fun. I know Neon wants to spend his birthday with you tomorrow—we thought we could have a drink tonight to celebrate.”

“That would be lovely.” Merle smiled, hoping Neon would agree. Would it be too much like a date? She didn’t want to spoil the lovely time they were having by making assumptions, acting as if they were a couple when, in the traditional definition of the word, they were anything but.

When he came over after the match, however, it was clear Jake had already arranged to have a taxi pick them up at six o’clock, and Neon seemed quite happy with it.

They walked back to his car, waving goodbye to Jake and Bree, and she climbed in beside him, raising an eyebrow at the grass stains and grazes on his body.

“Usually it would just be mud,” he grunted, starting the engine, “but it hasn’t rained for a while.”

“Are you sore?”

“Nah. I’m a real man.” He flexed his arm muscles before winking at her and driving off. He had never looked more gorgeous, with his hair sticking up at all angles where it had been grabbed by hands that tried to yank it out of his skull, a large graze on his cheekbone, the collar of his rugby shirt half ripped off and his clothes covered in earth and grass. He glanced over at her, then did it again, starting to smile. “Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“Your eyes are like dinner plates again. Am I in trouble?”

“Serious, serious trouble. You’ll be lucky to make it out alive.”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and she sighed, fidgeting until they got home. When he finally pulled up, she jumped out of the car and, taking his hand, led him forward. She waited impatiently while he insisted on leaving his boots by the door, then took him straight through to the bedroom. Walking up to the bed, she fell backward, pulling him on top of her. He burst out laughing, propping himself up on his elbows. “I’ll squash you!”

“I want to be squashed.” He was right, he was so heavy he was pressing her into the bed, and she hardly had any air left in her lungs, but the sheer weight of him, the breadth of his chest, the strength in his muscles, was making her crazy.

She raised her arms above her head, stretching out beneath him, pushing up her hips. “Come on, Mr. Rugby-Player-Surfer-Firefighter, take me like a caveman.”

His eyes went from zero to a hundred degrees in seconds. “You want it rough, baby?”

“Rough as, Mr. Kiwi.”

He laughed, catching her wrists with his hands. He planted hot kisses on her neck, pinned both her hands with one of his own and pulled up her T-shirt to access her nipples, which he licked hungrily, making her catch her breath and sigh. Suddenly he fastened his mouth onto the swell of her breast and sucked, making her squeal. “You’ll give me a hickey!”

“You betcha.” He ignored her protesting wriggle and continued to take bites out of her, nipping at her ear, grazing his teeth across her shoulder. She swore out loud, and in answer, he pushed up her skirt and pulled down his shorts.

She squirmed beneath him, realising she couldn’t get out of his grip—his hand was like a vise. He was going to take her immediately, without a full minute of foreplay, in his rugby clothes, grass-stained and covered in dirt and sweat. She nearly came at the thought.

He stroked her briefly, checking that she was wet, laughing when he found she was. Immediately he slid into her, making her swear again. He closed his eyes momentarily. When they opened, they were hot as the sun.

“Don’t close your eyes again,” she demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.” He pushed hard into her, making her gasp.

She wanted to run her fingers up inside his shirt and feel the warmth and heat of his skin. “Let me go. I want to touch you.”

“Nuh-uh.” He took a wrist in his other hand, pushing himself up, forcing her to bring her legs up.

“Neon…”

“I’m not letting go. Deal with it.”

She tried to pull her hands away but should have realised she wasn’t strong enough to do that. She could only lie there as he thrust into her, hard and fast, fixing her there with his gaze as much with his hands. She looked up at him, thinking she’d fallen so far in love with him she was never going to be able to claw her way back. And when she came, he watched her possessively as if he wanted to drink in her pleasure, his body tightening as he followed her, his eyes watching her the whole way.

Neon released her wrists, guilt sweeping through him as he saw the red marks on her skin. He lifted himself off, lying beside her on the bed. He looked at himself, ashamed. He must smell awful. How on earth did he turn her on like this?

He looked at Merle. She hadn’t moved, her arms still above her head, her eyes closed, her breathing gradually calming. He moved closer to her, pressing soft kisses on her face. “Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, then started laughing. “Oh my God.”

He grinned. “Sorry.”

“I swear you are trying to make sure I never walk again.”

He shrugged. At least that would mean she wouldn’t be able to leave him. But he wished he hadn’t been quite so rough. Sometimes he forgot his strength. He looked at her breast. She followed his gaze and squealed.

He pulled an
eek
face as he saw the large love bite. “Oh dear.”

She gave him an exasperated look, pulling down her T-shirt. “Well, I guess I won’t be wearing a low-cut top tonight.”

“For that I am sincerely sorry.”

She pushed herself up, groaning. “I’m so stiff. I haven’t done any yoga for days.”

“You do yoga?”

“Are you going to say something about it being a wussy sport?”

He laughed. “Not at all. I used to do it when I played rugby. It’s great for flexibility.”

“I think I might have to do some now. I need to get my hips back in working order.”

“I’m sorry.” He kissed her again as an apology.

She smiled. “It’s okay. I enjoyed myself, in case you didn’t notice.” She got to her feet. “How long have we got?”

He checked his watch. “Forty-five minutes. I think I should take a shower.”

“Hmm. I’m going to work out on the decking.” Arching her back, she grabbed a towel from the bathroom and went outside.

He sighed, went into the shower and ran it hot. He stripped and stood underneath the burning water, scrubbing himself clean. Then, turning it to cool, he let it run over his face. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

He thought about their dinner reservation with Bree and Jake. When Jake had asked if he wanted to go to dinner with them, he’d responded without hesitation, thinking it would be fun, the four of them, considering they all got on so well. It was only now that he realised how unusual that was for him. Although they all socialised in a group, if he took a girl out, it was usually alone and most often ended back at her place, certainly since he had moved to the house. It was as if he wanted to keep his love life separate from the rest of his life, and though he hadn’t thought about it, he now realised he’d been spending more time alone since being in his house. He wasn’t sure why. All he knew was he didn’t feel the same way about Merle. When they’d walked across the rugby field after the match, he’d put his arm around her shoulders, wanting everyone to see the beautiful blonde was with him. And now, he wanted to go out tonight with her because he wanted people to see them together, to see how happy they were.

He leaned forward, putting his forehead on the glass. What the hell was he doing? Tomorrow was their last day together, then he was back at work and very shortly afterward she was flying back to England. He doubted he’d ever see her again, or if she did come back, it would probably be in a few years’ time, when she was married, maybe even with kids.