Found (Not Quite a Billionaire Book 3) (12 page)

After our swim, Hope signed herself and Karen up for more lessons, and she didn’t even object when I paid for them. And when I stopped at the bank and opened an account for the two of them, all she did was sigh and say, “Hemi . . . how does this help my reestablishment plan, exactly?”

“You don’t have to use it for anything, ah, frivolous,” I said, and then went on with what I thought was some pretty faultless logic. “But you and Karen will be caring for Koro, won’t you? If you weren’t here, I’d be paying somebody else, or a team of somebodies, more likely, and that wouldn’t come cheap. Plus groceries and whatever else he needs. Besides, who knows what he’s giving my dad. Could help me with that, couldn’t you, so he’s not caught short. And if you had an emergency, you wouldn’t have to worry.”

Hope took the cards, tucked one into her wallet, and handed the other to Karen. “You keep sneaking in under my defenses. I know why you’re so successful. You are the most single-minded man I’ve ever known.” But she was smiling when she said it.

We headed back up the hill to Koro’s, then, and Karen said along the way, “Tane and June invited me to have dinner with them tonight, and to sleep over. So I could get to know my cousins better, they said, which was nice of them, even though their kids won’t actually be my cousins at all.”

I made a mental note to thank Tane next time I saw him. “Course they will,” I said. “You’ll find the definition of ‘cousin’ is pretty fluid to a Maori. You could say we have heaps. Your whanau’s more than your mum and dad. Or, in your case, your sister.”

“Huh,” she said. “That’ll be novel. Anyway, I said yes, because I
thought
this would be my last night in New Zealand until you guys finally got married. Ha. Little did I know I was going to be a resident. But they have a ping-pong table, so that’s cool. Besides, otherwise I’d be hanging around here, trying to read my book while you guys show me a whole bunch more of that ‘Do as I say, not as I do,’ making out right in front of me and staring deep into each others’ eyes. So awkward. Leading by example, right? Showing me how not to give in to my hormonal urges?”

“We’re engaged,” Hope said, and I could see her smile trying to escape. “It’s allowed.”

Karen snorted, as well she might. “I hate to tell you this, but you started doing that a long time ago.”

“Your sister’s also nine years older than you,” I said. “And I’m in love with her, not just some fella looking to hook up.”

Another snort. “I was
there,
Hemi. Maybe try again.”

“All right,” I said. “She said no.”

“Oh, so guys only respect you if you say no? They act like they want sex and they’ll leave if they don’t get it, but if they
do
get it, they leave because you’re a slut? Who thinks like that anymore? That just makes guys sound like jerks.”

I shook my head, feeling like a bull being pestered by an annoying fly. “If you don’t become a lawyer, the world will be missing out on a perfect match. But you’re right. Guys
are
jerks, at least some of them are, especially the young ones. I know I was, but your sister made me work for it until the relationship was on her terms and wasn’t all about what I wanted. She’s still doing it. She tells me what she needs from me, and then she holds my feet to the fire until I give it to her. And you know I love her, or I wouldn’t be telling you all this,” I added, pulling into Koro’s drive once again. “Bloody uncomfortable, isn’t it.”

“Open communication is key between adolescents and their authority figures,” she said. “Even though your sexual politics were forged in fire at about the same time as the One Ring, and you aren’t really my authority figure.”

I started to say, “Of course I am,” but held myself back at the last minute. Fortunately, Hope did it for me, just as she’d done with my dad. “Of course he is,” she said. “He’s your secondary authority figure. And his sexual politics are pretty much on target, from everything I’ve ever seen. Sad but true. If you want a good guy, you have to be picky. He has to
know
you’re picky. Then, whatever you choose to do or not do, and however long it lasts, you’re left with your self-respect and pride intact, because it was a hundred percent your choice.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of “secondary,” but it didn’t seem that I got a vote. “You could ask Tane,” I suggested. “He’s got sons, and a daughter as well. Bet he’ll say the same, and he’s not nearly as much of a caveman as I am, or so I hear.”

“Yeah, right,” Karen said, opening the car door. “That’s a conversation I’ll be having.”

She went into the house, and Hope looked at me, and I looked back at her. “Well,” she finally said, “at least they have a ping-pong table. Would you like to rethink your decision to be involved with either of us?”

I couldn’t help smiling. I reached over, put a gentle hand behind her head and another on her shoulder, pulled her into me, felt her body yielding to me, and finally kissed her the way I’d wanted to ever since I’d seen her again. Slow and deep and the way I needed it, taking her mouth hard enough that she’d feel it, making it mine. Until she was making some noises, those little whimpers that drove me wild. Until she was clutching at my shoulder, hanging on, and I had my hand in her hair, tugging her head gently back in the way I loved most, and everything about her response was telling me that she wanted me to lay her down then and there.

And when I took that gorgeously full lower lip between my teeth and gave it a nip? She gasped, her whole body jerked, and I finally did the other thing I’d been longing to do. I slid my hand into the low neckline of that snug tee, straight inside her bra, palmed her breast, and bit her lip again. And felt her squirm. Hard.

I let go of her, sat back, and said, “No. On consideration, I think I’m going to have to insist on keeping you.”

She was lying back against the seat, her color up, an audible hitch in her breath, and all she could say was, “Hemi.”

She wanted to hear it all, so I gave her what she needed. But then, giving Hope what she needed was the greatest pleasure of my life.

“Yeh,” I told her. “I have that work to do. And then I’d like to make an appointment to remind you who you’ll be waiting for, and what he expects from you. You may hold my feet to the fire, but I can hold yours, too. I can do more than that. I can hold your ankles, and I can hold your knees, and tonight, I’m going to do it. We’ll have another chat about your independence when I’ve taken all your clothes off, you’re on your back in my bed, I’ve got my hands on your pretty thighs, and I’m holding them apart while you squirm to get loose. When I’ve got my mouth on you, and I’m reminding you what my tongue is for and exactly how much you need it. We can have another chat about it when my hands are on the backs of your legs, when I’ve got them shoved up so you’re spread wide open for me, and all you want is more. When you find out just how long I’m willing to play with you, and just how far you’re willing to go.”

Hope

Maybe you can see why distance was necessary to maintain my self-control during my regrouping period.

What did he do after that? Did he kiss me again? No, he did not. He got out of the car, then came around and opened my door like the gentleman he most definitely wasn’t.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes and said, “What I told Karen is true. It’s still a hundred percent my choice.”

“Now, sweetheart,” he said, only the barest movement at the corner of his mouth betraying his real feelings, “when did I ever say it wasn’t? It’s my job to make you want it. It’s your job to decide whether you do.”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “you’re too good at your job.” And this time, his smile might have escaped.

He was setting me up for later, that was all. Too bad he was the master at that. Or lucky for me that he was. One or the other, because it sure had worked. I was a quivering, tingling bundle of arousal right now, and he still looked as cool as ever.

Except that I knew he wasn’t, because if he knew my dirty secrets? I knew his, too.

I didn’t know what we were doing tonight. Going out, or staying in. The only thing I knew for sure was that Hemi knew which it was going to be, and what was going to happen.

Well, I might have a plan, too. I hung up my suit and towel, then took off all my clothes and took my time rubbing wildflower-scented body butter into my skin. I applied just enough makeup to look like I wasn’t wearing any and fixed my hair in a tousled bedhead look before changing into soft black cotton leggings and a long, stretchy white shirt with a low crossover neckline, a gathered front, and a hem barely long enough for decency. A tiny gold heart on a chain around my neck, and Hemi’s ring on my finger. All soft and clinging and innocently, sweetly seductive, like I didn’t know what I was doing.

I almost hadn’t packed this shirt. I was glad now that I had. Hemi was going to try his best to knock my socks off tonight, but he was going to be facing some competition. If he knew how to push my buttons? I knew how to push his, too.

I’d never been much good at sports, but there was a game or two I was good at playing all the same. I’d been a late bloomer, but I had what Hemi needed. Of that, I was sure.

He was at the dining room table, working on his laptop with his usual focus, when I came in with my own computer. I set up at right angles to him, then wriggled around some, pulled my hem down, which also had the effect of exposing my newly acquired cleavage, and shoved a foot under myself so I was curled into the chair, angled a tiny bit toward him.

Did he look up? Yes, he did. And then he kept looking.

I didn’t pay any attention. I found my document, propped an elbow on the table, shoved my hand into my hair, messing it up some more, bit my lower lip, and sighed. And he watched that, too.

He went back to work, eventually, without a comment, and I smiled a little inside and kept my own focus on applying for the working holiday visa I’d need to get a job here, then did some more research on everything I’d need to know and everything I’d need to do. Hemi sat still, his face intent, his fingers flying, and if he looked at me from time to time? Maybe I did my best to distract him.

Tomorrow, he’d be leaving, back to his fourteen-hour days, back to running his empire and managing his crises without distraction. Tonight, though, he was mine.

It was almost six when Tane’s oldest, sixteen-year-old Nikau, showed up at the door. Karen, who’d come into the living room at the sound of the doorbell, said, “I could just have walked up the hill, you know. I mean, it’s nice of you to come get me and all, but unless I’m going to be attacked by a wild pig or something, I think I was pretty safe.”

“Karen . . .” I began.

Nikau, already almost as tall as his father, looked startled, then grinned. “Yeh, nah, maybe you’re not all that, eh. I came to deliver some fish to Uncle Hemi as well.” He handed Hemi a squashy parcel in a plastic carrier bag and said, “Dad said you’d be expecting it, Uncle. We caught it this morning.”

“Cheers,” he said.

Karen said, “Whoops. I guess I blew it, huh?” And I thought,
You think?

“Nah,” Nikau said. “Just don’t say something like that to Dad, and you’re all good.”

“Oh,” she said. “Is that some kind of New Zealand thing about respect for your elders?”

“Some kind of Maori thing,” Hemi said as Nikau looked startled again. “Could be you’ll learn something.”

She
laughed.
Oh, man. I really had to teach her some better manners. Then she picked up her backpack and said, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning, then. Or tonight, if they kick me out for being rude.”

“At least you get that,” I said. “For heaven’s sake, Karen.”

“Won’t be happening,” Hemi said. “Hospitality’s another Maori thing. See you in the morning.”

Once he closed the door on them, he hefted the plastic packet, looked at me for a long moment, and headed into the kitchen.

Oh,
I thought.
Refrigerator.
In another second, I heard it shutting, and Hemi came back out to join me.

He wasn’t wearing jeans tonight. I’d already noticed that. He’d changed after the pool, too, while I’d been in the bathroom. Now, he had on black trousers in a fine wool, together with one of his white dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up to show the lowest few inches of his swirling tattoo, not to mention the forearms I never got tired of looking at, with their thick bands of muscle under the bronzed skin.