Tempting the Negotiator. Zana Bell

Tempting the Negotiator - Zana  Bell


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what the hell he was trying to prove with this stupid celibacy kick, anyway.

      Sass, of course, had been as cool and as annoyingly imperturbable as ever during the drive into town earlier. She’d said she wanted to look around, and Jake had been glad to drop her off and leave her to her own devices for a few hours. The fact that the whole of Whangarimu shopping center could be done in under an hour had given him a small flash of malicious satisfaction. He’d thought once she discovered how hicksville they really were, she’d be ready to catch the next flight out. Instead, it seemed she was already finding her feet, taking control.

      With Jacob still screaming, Rob and Moana said hasty farewells and, freed from the necessity of picking Sass up, Jake decided to drop into the local polytechnic. He survived financially by taking a series of temporary jobs such as farm work and teaching the conservation course part-time. This last job was proving more challenging than he’d thought. Who’d have ever guessed teachers put so much time and thought into their classes? Still, he loved the subject and his students, but the copious paperwork that went with the territory proved to be his bête noire. He was struggling with mounds of neglected filing when Colin popped his head around the door of Jake’s tiny office.

      “Ah, there you are. Heard rustlings and thought it might be rats. Then I heard the swearing.”

      Jake looked up at his colleague from the pile he’d just knocked off the desk. “Can’t believe how much junk accumulates in such a short time. Good thing I’m only part-time. If I were full-time, I’d be buried alive under avalanches of this crap.”

      Colin stepped over another teetering pile and perched on a chair after removing yet more papers. His habitual good humor was intact. But beneath his thinning, sandy hair, his pale blue eyes were considerably sharper than his mild manner suggested. “Systems, that’s what you need.”

      Jake grimaced. “Yeah, I know. I just seem biologically programmed to be incapable of following any.”

      Colin looked from Jake’s biceps to his own thin, freckled arms. “I haven’t heard your female students complain about your biological programming.”

      “It doesn’t impress management, however.”

      Colin shook his head. “That’s not what I’ve heard. Numbers enrolling in conservation have rocketed—and not just girls. Rumor has it you’ve turned down offers for a full-time contract twice. Why’s that? I thought you were skint.”

      Jake laughed as he leaned back and swung on his computer chair. “Yeah, well, it’s true I could do with the money but—” he hesitated “—full-time is a real commitment.”

      Colin surveyed him. “More fun to be had on the surfing circuit?”

      “Nah, I’ve been there, done that. Teaching is fun and I really enjoy it. It’s just—”Again Jake broke off, not sure himself what his objections were. “It just seems so final.” He knew that sounded lame, the minute the words were out. He wasn’t surprised when Colin shook his head.

      “Listen to you. You sound like a kid of eighteen instead of a man in his thirties. It’s got to happen sooner or later. You can’t float on the surface of life forever. You need to put down some roots, mate.”

      Jake pulled a face. “Think I’ve been on the road too many years to settle down now.”

      “No desire for a wife and a home one day?” Colin eyed him curiously.

      “Yeah, I’d like them someday—just not now.”

      “Spoken like a true commitment-phobe.”

      “Commitment-phobe?” Jake feigned outrage. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m up to my bloody neck in commitments at the present.”

      Colin scratched his chin, a gesture he did when pondering an interesting phenomenon in the science lab. “Hmm, but they’re all short-term, aren’t they. The boys are only with you until the championships, the book has its deadline and as for the resort, well, that’s going to be settled sooner or later. Then what? Will you stay on and see how things go for the tern?”

      His tone was dispassionate; he was simply analyzing the situation from an objective point of view. But it left Jake feeling disconcerted, even a little defensive.

      “I haven’t planned that far ahead,” he said with a shrug.

      Colin leaned back and folded his arms. “You know what your problem is?”

      “No, and I don’t want to hear it from you, either.”

      His colleague smiled but continued, unperturbed. “You’re still searching for the next best thing—the perfect wave. But a surfer like you should know there’s no such thing. You’ve got to take what’s in front of you.”

      “What’s in front of me,” said Jake, making a sweeping gesture, “is this bloody nightmare, and the next best thing I need is a shredder. Is there one I can use?”

      Colin laughed as he got to his feet. “Yeah, there’s one in the admin block. Okay, champ, have it your way. See you in a couple of weeks.”

      THE OLDER MAN’S WORDS stayed with Jake, however, and as he drove home, his thoughts were bleak. It wasn’t only his desk that was a mess, his whole life needed systems. He was already past one deadline for the book he was writing on the fairy tern. How could he tell the publishers he’d stalled with it? All his energies, he told himself, were being used up in the battle to keep the invading Americans at bay. How could a man work when his home was threatened?

      Damn Rob for saddling him with the woman. It just added to Jake’s responsibilities, this need to make her fall in love with Aroha Bay. If she had eyes in her head, she’d see for herself what a travesty a holiday resort would be in such a place. The last thing in the world he needed right now was to play host to some insufferable hotshot.

      As for the boys…he’d bitten off more than he could chew there. It had been a great idea at the time—just like the book had been—but the reality was considerably more difficult than he’d expected. He’d had some cool idea that it would be like a surf camp and that as long as they were focused on surfing, the rest of their lives would sort out. Instead, the house was constantly a wreck and the boys seemed to need feeding every minute of the day.

      What’s more, he had a feeling that even though it was still early in the school year, they were probably not doing as well as they should. The boys never seemed to do any homework, but Jake didn’t want to harp on about assignments and tests. God, he’d sound like his old man, and Brad was always squaring up against him as it was. What was up with the kid? He pretended it was all a joke, but he never missed an opportunity to make a dig at Jake, to defy his authority.

      Jake still believed that Aroha Bay was what the boys needed, but Janet, their social worker, seemed unconvinced a single male was the best guardian for them. She’d been clearly unimpressed by the state of the house the last visit, and had said she’d drop by again soon. Despite her smile, it had sounded like a threat, and he knew she’d be along any day now. He really needed to clean ASAP, stock the fridge with fresh salad, that sort of thing. That’s what she’d be looking for. He could lose the boys otherwise. As he could lose the battle for Aroha Bay and the fairy tern.

      Jake hated the mere thought of losing.

      As he swung down the driveway to the house, his stress levels mounted. What he really craved was a surf but instead he’d have to cook dinner and sort through some of the bills that were cluttering the table. He probably also ought to entertain the American, though how, he couldn’t imagine. Well, he could. But that image was sharply repressed.

      The first thing he saw, sitting jauntily next to the sleep-out, was the car. A red convertible. Bloody typical! He might have guessed she’d get something like that. He was amazed the boys weren’t all standing around it, tongues hanging out and begging for rides. Brad would be itching to drive. Oh, man, yet another battle Jake simply didn’t need. He pulled up next to the convertible and jumped out, slamming his door. There was no sign of Sass, but music


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