Hide Your Heart: A New Zealand Small Town Romance (Sexy New Zealand Beach Romance Far North Book 1) (4 page)

Rain hammered on the iron roof, and a rat, not as discerning as its other brethren who’d abandoned this hovel for drier lodgings, scuttled past his foot.

Looked as if he’d be spending the night in his car.

***

Late next morning, in the weak rays of cloud-strangled sunlight, Nate drove to Lauren’s house. He turned into her rutted driveway, and the explosion of flowers planted parallel to it impressed his photographer’s eye. Below the house spread the tilled rows of a vegetable garden, and farther down the manicured slope, following a fork in the driveway, protruded an outbuilding with roller doors he assumed was a garage.

He’d spent hours being rejected by every skilled laborer in Bounty Bay. More than one local had said, “Todd Taylor lives up thataway, don’t he? Bloke’s good with his hands,” or words to that effect.

Lauren’s brother. Very helpful.
Not
.

The guy would kill him if he knew who featured in his dreams last night while he’d curled prawn-like in his Range Rover’s back seat.

Nate chose the same fork as the night before and killed the engine before he was tempted to run over Lauren’s canine bodyguard, barking apoplectically on the front lawn. The Rottweiler’s black eyes honed in on Nate through the windshield. He edged out of the car.

“Good dog. Good Java. I’m a friend, remember?”

A French door swung open, and a small head peeped around.

Nate raised a hand. “Morning, Superman.”

Drew sent him a shy wave and stepped outside.

Nate opened the passenger door and retrieved the set of crutches he’d picked up at Bounty Bay’s hospital. Java trotted over and sniffed his gumboot, before lifting his hind leg to the car’s rear wheel.

“Charming.”

By the time Nate reached the deck, Lauren stood in the doorway behind her son.

Drew pointed. “What’re those?”

“Crutches. They’ll help your mum get around while her ankle’s sore.”

A faint line appeared on Lauren’s brow as she glanced from the crutches to him.

“If a friend has already dropped some off, I’ll return them,” Nate added.

Lauren shook her head. He extended the crutches and she slid her hands through the plastic arm guards.

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”

Nate studied the smudge of fatigue beneath her eyes while she tested her weight. His lungs snagged as his gaze drifted down her cut-off jeans and long legs. Sensual heat shot straight to his groin, seeing how she looked when she wasn’t soaked to the skin and smeared with mud. Though she’d been downright sexy even then.

After dunking his thoughts in a quick cold shower, he got his mind back on track. “And the friend? You did call someone to come help you?”

“Mummy’s friends are Uncle Todd and Aunty Kathy,” Drew answered for his mother. “They’re not home. Oh, and Aunty Louisa, but she lives a
long
way away.”

Lauren cut Nate a sharp look from beneath her lashes. “It doesn’t matter now that I’ve got a way to walk other than hopping…”

His gaze pinpointed on the telltale pulse at the base of her throat, the flutter of her fingers on the handles.

“You live alone up here with only your brother and his wife as a support system?” He kept his voice pitched low, but incredulousness lifted the last word a fraction. What woman didn’t have a bevy of girlfriends to call on?

Unless that woman was hiding something. Or hiding
from
someone.

She angled her body toward Drew. “You can go and get a muffin now; they should be cool enough to eat.”

“Yummy, blueberry.”

The kid slipped past his mother and vanished inside. The delicious aroma of just-out-of-the-oven baking finally registered from nose to brain, but he refused to be distracted.

“Listen, are you—?” He hesitated. Delicacy and tact were not among his strong suits.

Lauren’s chin jumped up, but she remained silent. Her hazel gaze sparred with his, daring him to continue. It wasn’t his business, as she was bound to point out, but screw it—the kid screaming from a nightmare about his daddy last night? He’d ask, just the same.

“Are you in any danger from Drew’s father?”

***

The question deleted every coherent thought in Lauren’s head and she blinked at him. Repeatedly.

Like an imbecile.

During Nate’s deliberate pause, she’d leaped to the conclusion he was asking about her marital status. Apparently, her current availability wasn’t on his mind. Though after Drew’s outburst, a man of Nate’s profession would naturally be curious. She should tell him to butt out of her business. But avoidance would only challenge him to dig deeper.

“Drew’s father and I are divorced, and he’s since remarried.” Her lowered gaze settled on her empty ring finger where an ostentatious cluster of diamonds once nestled. “He lives in the States.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“We’re in no danger from his father.”

Not anymore.

The familiar weight of shame swamped her. She’d been so weak, and hiding them both from the world in order to feel safe was her penance.

He retreated a step and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “I’d planned to give your car a tow, but since there’s no one here to drive…”

The awareness of how near he’d been standing prickled her scalp, and she sucked in a breath, catching the hint of pine-scented soap from his skin.

“Your car’s automatic; I can handle it.”

With Todd not due until this afternoon—or knowing him, the next day—the idea of having her car back in her garage was tempting enough to overcome her desire to keep her distance.

“
You
want to drive my Range Rover?”

“I’ve got a current driver’s license.” She failed to prevent an eye roll. “I could probably outdrive you on this or any road.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Says the woman who ended up stuck in a ditch.”

“A freakish accident.”

“Uh huh.”

Java padded across the deck and flopped down in a puddle of sunlight, frightening a chattering fantail out of the lush grapevine below.

“I know my way around cars. I do it for a living.”

“You drive cars for a living?”

“No, Todd and I restore them. Classic cars, that is.”

“Really?”

The disbelief in his tone made her shoulder blades twitch, and she jerked them back. “You’re archaic enough to think women can’t be mechanics?”

His grin, startlingly white against his tanned skin, affected her in ways she didn’t want to examine too closely.

“I’ve never met a female mechanic who could be a model.”

The acerbic comment she’d been about to hurl disintegrated on her tongue. Was he playing her? Had he guessed a “wash n’ wear”, medium-brown dye covered her natural shade of ash blonde? That cheap denim shorts and a cotton blouse disguised a body New York designers once coveted?

Lauren stared at him. Like an imbecile. Again.

“Want one?”

Drew’s voice snapped her attention down to her side. He held out a plump muffin.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Nate accepted the treat and with his other hand pulled a keychain from his pocket. “You think you can help tow your car out of the ditch?”

Her son hooked an arm around her thigh. “Maybe.”

“Perhaps you can lift it out with one hand, like Superman?”

Drew’s cheek shifted into a smile. “I’m not as strong as Superman.”

Nate winked. “Not yet. In a few years, you’ll give him a run for his money.”

“Go grab your jacket and gumboots.” Lauren peeled Drew’s arms off her leg and ruffled his hair.

She glanced at Nate’s left hand as he bit into the muffin. Bare. No fine strip of pale skin on the third finger either.

Oh for God’s sake, Lauren.

But she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “You’re good with kids. Have you got any?”

His eyebrow quirked up as he swallowed, the corded muscles surrounding his Adam’s apple flexing. “My biography has been covered by every women’s magazine in the country since I got suckered in to that stupid
New Zealand’s Bachelor of the Year
thing.”

“I don’t read those kinds of magazines.”

His other eyebrow rose to mirror the first, screaming “cynical.”

She wanted him to believe her. “It’s true. Give me an article on brake pads over boob jobs any day. I only recognized your name and face from flicking through my sister-in-law’s coffee-table book. Your photos are…interesting.”

If her hands weren’t gripping the crutch handles, she would’ve smacked herself upside the head. Interesting? Nate’s photos blasted
interesting
into oblivion.

Provoking. Fascinating. Heart-wrenching. Enthralling.

Couldn’t she have uttered a more original adjective than interesting?

“Thanks. I think.” He chuckled and licked a crumb off his finger. “For the record, I don’t have kids. I’m not married or in a relationship, and I’m not gay either.”

He released another devastating grin and turned away, then tossed over his shoulder, “In case you were wondering.”

Her mouth dropped open as he strolled off the deck. “I’ll wait in the car.
Interesting
muffin, by the way.”

***

Sprained ankle or not, Lauren drove the Range Rover back like a semi-pro rally driver. If she did say so herself. Leaving Nate and her station wagon at the driveway fork, Lauren parked outside her house and flung open the door. Even the car smelled like him—fresh pine and the faintest trace of male cologne.

Another engine rumbled in the distance. Lauren slid out and released Drew from his car seat then crutch-hopped across the lawn to greet Todd’s battered ute as it coasted to a halt.

Her brother launched his six-foot-three bulk out of the truck. “What the hell happened to you?” Todd’s gaze scoured the area as he loped over to her. “And whose car is that?”

Lauren quickly explained how she’d come to sprain her ankle and how their new neighbor had helped them get home, but the scowl never left her brother’s face.

“I’m gonna check him out.” He glared down toward her three-bay garage, which doubled as their workshop.

Kathy and their eight-year-old daughter, Sophie, climbed out of the truck. Drew squealed and wrapped his arms around his cousin’s waist, and she immediately picked him up, settling him on her hip.

Lauren laughed and shook her head. “Sophie, he’s too heavy.”

Sophie turned her melted chocolate eyes to Lauren and grinned. “Nah, he doesn’t weigh as much as the bags of kumara Dad makes me carry.”

“Can we go inside and have a muffin?” Drew twisted around and gave Lauren his best beguiling look.

“Just one,” she agreed.

Drew slithered out of Sophie’s arms and the two of them raced for the house.

Kathy strolled over to stand beside Lauren. “Maybe you should come stay with us,
teina
.”

Lauren squeezed her sister-in-law’s hand, drawing comfort from her warm fingers squeezing back.

“You’re still too bloody skinny; that’s why your ankle popped so easy.” Kathy lifted and rotated her flip-flop clad foot. “Now, stay with us a couple of nights and eat some decent
kai
, and I’ll have your scrawny legs fattened up like mine in no time.”

“It’d be more than my legs fattening up if I eat too much of your wonderful
kai
.”

Kathy slipped an arm around Lauren’s waist. “A man needs something to hold on to—whoa, now.
That’s
our new neighbor?”

Nate climbed the stairs at the far end of Lauren’s deck.

Todd, bare feet braced wide apart and calf muscles bunching rock hard under his board shorts, boomed out, “You’re the city slicker who bought Mac’s place?”

Once an easy-going surfer carving out a laid-back lifestyle with his Maori wife and little girl, Todd had changed. Something fundamental had shifted in his attitude when Lauren had returned broken from New York.

“Go calm down your man before he hurts someone.” Lauren poked her crutch at the two men facing off.

Todd’s biceps bulged as he crossed his arms, and Nate had his thumbs hooked in his belt, a casual stance, but one that also said, “Bring it on.”

“Oh, I dunno.” Kathy tilted her chin and chuckled. “Fella looks like he’d give as good as he’d get.”

Though Todd was slightly taller and carried more muscle bulk, restrained power shimmered in every calculated movement Nate made as he leaned against the house and sized up Lauren’s older brother.

“Toddy—play nice with the new boy,” Kathy yelled, jogging across the grass and onto the deck.