Her Man with Iceberg Eyes (16 page)

Kate handed the dress to the sales assistant.
“We’ll take it,” she said, flinching only slightly at the
outrageous price.

Matthew rose from the chair and indicated she
should sit. He knelt in front of her, legs parted. And set one of
her feet firmly and precisely where his thighs joined. Kate caught
her breath and tried to wriggle away.

“Mmmm,” he hummed. “Nice action, Katie.”

She stopped her wriggling. One striped sock
and a layer of blue denim separated her from his warm and willing
body—and it was becoming more willing by the moment. Horrified, she
felt him slowly lengthening and hardening beneath her toes. And he
held her foot right there as he leisurely loosened off her
bootlaces with the fingers of his other hand.

He looked up at her and quirked an eyebrow as
he finally slid her boot on and repositioned her foot again. At
least the tough ridged sole was now between them. She resolutely
locked her eyes on his until he looked down with a small chuckle
and started to rethread the laces. Two could play at this, she
decided.

The immaculately groomed sales assistant
stood only feet away, folding the dress, making a great crackle
with sheets of tissue paper on the countertop. It gave a whole new
meaning to
menage a trois,
Kate thought, suppressing a
giggle.

He finished his job and set her booted foot
aside.

Kate gracefully lifted the other and
positioned it as he had, adding a wriggle of her toes and a little
nudge from her heel as though she was settling herself
comfortably.

“Goodness, Matthew,” she said. “What a
nuisance that must be for you.”

He compressed his lips, refusing to comment,
but a snort of laughter soon rewarded her.

She had the measure of his game now. And the
measure of more besides. Okay, he wanted to play. She wasn’t about
to let him win again without a decent fight. She pressed a little
harder, flexing her toes against him. He unlaced her other boot and
then ran a finger caressingly under her arch as he inserted her
foot. Kate jerked and caught her breath.

“I must see how to do this,” she said, once
the sensation had lessened off a little. She leaned over,
ostensibly to watch his fingers rethreading the laces. Her hair
swung forward in a soft concealing cloud, brushing over his face,
surrounding him in shadowed fragrance.

“Katie...” he growled.

“Am I making things difficult for you?” she
asked with mock-innocence.

He turned his head, grabbed a mouthful, and
tugged.

She gasped at the small sharp pain. “You’re a
hurter, are you?” she whispered.

“Never.” He unclamped his teeth and released
her. “But you’re deliberately winding me up.”

Kate leaned back in the chair and smiled as
he finished lacing the second boot. “You think?” she teased. “No
more than you deserve.”

Kate’s spirits soared as high as the little
plane. Matthew had helped her in, belted her up, made sure her
headphones were comfortable, and then ignored her. He ran through
his park-up checks with meticulous attention, called the
controller, and received permission to start his engine and taxi to
his holding point on the runway.

“Ready for departure.”

“Cleared for runway.”

Suddenly he clapped a big hand on her thigh,
flashed a broad grin, and the engine note increased. They picked up
speed, racing along through the clear morning air. Then he pulled
back on the control column and they rushed up into the dark blue
sky. Queenstown receded to the size of a town-planner’s model. Lake
Wakatipu sparkled; the cableway looked tiny; the mountains became
magnificent.

It was noisy but fascinating. She peered from
side to side as they threaded their way past vicious drops and over
snowy peaks. This was nothing like flying in a commercial airliner.
They were close enough to see unexpected little lakes and tarns
full of velvety green water, thousands of feet above sea level. The
alpine vegetation became sparse. The up-thrust rocky crags were
majestic as organ pipes.

Matthew drew her attention to some
fleet-footed animals swarming up and over a sharp ridge—some sort
of deer she presumed.

Through the headphones she heard, “Himalayan
Tahr. We might see some Chamois, too.”

“How do they keep their balance?” she called
back.

He grinned and shrugged.

For much of the journey they were the only
people in the world—no visible farmhouses, no fences, no roads, no
power pylons. She was astounded how empty and undeveloped the
country was. Prehistoric. Truly the earth as it must have been when
dinosaurs roamed the plains they’d left behind.

The winter sun glanced off the pristine snow
below them. Sometimes it even felt possible to reach out and touch
it as Matthew piloted them through passes and gullies, and the
plane floated past jagged snow-dusted rock-faces.

The engine note changed and she looked across
at him with alarm. He smiled and shook his head. Tipped a hand down
to let her know he was starting his descent. She nodded and
relaxed.

They droned ever lower, below the tops of the
mountains down to dense green forest that lay like a huge crumpled
quilt over the primeval land.

A veil of cloud sped by, sunlight winking
through it. He pointed across to the end of the valley and Kate
recognized the scene every Kiwi calendar featured, sooner or later.
Mitre Peak—so triangular and tall that wispy clouds passed by less
than half way to the summit.

The icy dark water of Milford Sound sparkled
with a trail of sunshine. The airfield was close now. A surprising
number of other small planes and helicopters had already landed.
And a collection of coaches were parked near the famous hotel.

Matthew set down with a gentle bump, taxied
off the runway and rolled to a stop.

Within minutes, Kate found herself boarding a
boat named Water Nymph. Not one of the big tourist craft...this was
a nicely appointed pleasure cruiser belonging to a tanned and
bearded friend of Matthew’s. She could hardly refuse—he’d
apparently arranged yet another treat for her, and now he’d neatly
separated her from the crowds. She drew a deep breath, clenched her
jaw, and managed a tight smile of appreciation.

Bob of the beard waved cheerily as Matthew
piloted the boat out. “Lunch in the fridge,” Bob shouted over the
increasing gap. “Don’t drink it all at once.”

They burbled out onto the huge fiord. The
surrounding mountains rose straight from the water, for these were
old drowned valleys carved during the Ice Age. Waterfalls plunged a
thousand metres or more down the sheer sides.

Kate sat outside, marvelling at the scenery.
The frisky breeze tugged at her hair, so she twisted it up and
pulled the knitted angora cap over it. She’d expected to be part of
the tourist throng at the hotel or on one of the big boats, but
Matthew had thwarted that scenario with ease and left any signs of
civilisation far behind. They were soon hundreds of yards from
shore and quite alone. He cut the engine, and they drifted. The
only sounds were water sucking and lapping at the boat’s sides, the
muted roar of distant waterfalls, and occasional calls from
birds.

He settled into the seat beside her,
unzipping the jacket he’d added over his sweatshirt. The breeze was
less chilly now they were still. “You don’t need this on any
longer,” he said, pulling her cap off so her hair cascaded
loose.

She drew a sharp breath. He was far too close
again. Now she regretted her game with him in the boutique.

She leaned away and stood, but the rocking of
the boat made balancing difficult. She stumbled—and grabbed his
shoulder for support. His arms snaked around her waist in an
instant, yanking her to stand between his knees. He slid forward
and trapped her with his thighs.

“Kiss me,” he said, tilting his head back at
her.

She stared down, horrified, at his handsome
demanding face.

“No, Matthew. Sorry.”

“Kiss me,” he repeated. “Bend over so your
hair falls all around me again.”

“No,” she exclaimed, trying to twist away. “I
don’t steal other people’s husbands.”

“However much you might be attracted to
them?”

Oh hell.
She made a supreme attempt to
keep her gaze locked with his. “However much.”

“So you are?”

“You’re very nice,” she said carefully.

He gave a snort of amusement. “You’re
thinking more than nice. We’d be fantastic.”

“Perhaps.”

“You
know
we would, Katie. We’ve been
fencing around each other for two long frustrating days. Kiss
me.”

“I’ll be gone on Sunday,” she tried,
attempting again to escape, and knowing she really wanted him to
hang on tight and make the decision for her.

“I’ve waited long enough.”

“You might feel like that, but maybe I don’t?
And I told you—I don’t steal other people’s husbands.”

“Very laudable of you, but I’m no-one’s
husband any longer. Whose do you think I am?”

She had no way of avoiding the topic now.
“You’re Lottie’s of course.”

Her world stood still as he slowly shook his
head.

“But...” She snatched a quick breath.
“Charlotte McLeod... Matthew McLeod...” the same names, living in
the same home. You’re—”

“Her half-brother. Same father.”

She stayed poised above him, brain rapidly
re-running the data. Her suspicions were now confirmed. But did
that make things better or worse? Awash with longing and relief,
she stared down at his infuriating triumphant face. “Why didn’t you
tell me that?” she demanded.

“Didn’t occur to me. You knew she slept
upstairs.”

“No I didn’t. I knew there was a bedroom
there. Maybe for when she painted late. That’s
all
I
knew.”

He shrugged. “Did you ever see me treat her
as a wife? Did I ever kiss her like a husband would?”

Their chaste embrace in the hospital flooded
back into her memory. A pat on the shoulder. A peck on the
forehead. Now it was Kate’s turn to shrug. “Why didn’t you just say
at the airport, ‘Hello, I’m Matthew, Lottie’s brother’?”

He gazed at her with a thunderous expression.
“Jeez Kate, maybe because I was totally thrown. She really hurt
herself in that accident. Blood all down her face.” He shook his
head sharply, perhaps to banish the scene from his brain. “She
couldn’t walk. And I had to get her to hospital somehow, worrying
about how bad the bang on her head was. Not to mention suddenly
finding I had to entertain you as well. I’m sorry. It probably
didn’t occur to me.”

She relented slightly. “You’re very kind to
her.”

“She is my much loved sister, Katie. My wife
is long gone. Did you really think I’d make a play for you if I
already had a woman in the house?” His eyes held hers—magnetic,
serious.

Kate bit her lip, willing her thumping heart
to calm down. He’d become everything she wanted, and everything
she’d tried to steer clear of. “Some men might?” she said,
realising she’d offended him.

“That’s quite an opinion you have of me.” His
eyes now flashed with undisguised annoyance. “You really thought
that
?”

“Some men wouldn’t be so scrupulous.”

“I’m not among them. So kiss me.”

Oh God, she wanted to so much. Wanted to do a
lot more than just kiss him. But the job? Their living
arrangements? Surely kissing him again would throw everything into
turmoil?

“No,” she said, bending a little lower so her
hair slipped past her shoulders and started to curtain him. She
shook her head. The soft dark wings brushed his hard-planed face.
He waited.

“No,” she repeated softly, as she lowered
herself enough to feel his breath feathering over her.

“Yes,” he whispered, threading his hands into
her hair and tugging her the tiny remaining distance.

The moment Kate’s lips touched his, her
fragile resolve evaporated. She followed his lead as he nipped and
licked in a long, slow, delicious exploration. Matthew gathered her
closer and closer until she finally lost her balance, fell on top
of him, and they broke apart, laughing.

“God, the things I want to do with you,” he
said, pulling her onto his lap with surprising ease. “But probably
not out here with hundreds of tourists training their binoculars on
us.”

He cupped her face in his palm, and stroked
his thumb gently over her cheek.

“They’re a long way away yet,” she said,
exploring his face in return. Her fingers traced the edges of his
mouth, and he closed his silver-blue eyes. Kate laid her lips on
his again and they sank into another long, dizzying kiss, arms
sliding around each other until they pressed tightly together.

She breathed him in. Cologne and clean
cotton. Spices and honey. Heat and temptation. Tasting like
heaven.

So big and strong that for the first time
ever she felt almost petite.

Time slipped by until the wake from one of
the big tourist boats reached them, setting them bobbing and
sloshing, and making them draw apart with surprise.

“How many binoculars?” Kate gasped. How long
had they been lost in each other, oblivious to the approaching
vessel?

“They’ll survive the sight.” Matthew held her
close to counteract the water’s chop. “They’re plenty far enough
away.”

She peeked over his shoulder. “If they’re
even looking.”

“Yeah, probably not, but we should go inside
because I have more than this in mind.” He kissed her again, this
time with deliberate intent, and finally drew away. Their boat
continued to dance and sway. He held out a hand. Kate shuffled off
his lap, stood, and wrapped her fingers around his. They staggered
toward the cabin.

He threw off his jacket, and reached for hers
before drawing her down onto one of the padded seats and cupping
her face in his hands. “Now,” he murmured, “let’s do that
again.”