Tempting the Negotiator. Zana Bell
was a challenge. Sass pulled her tight skirt halfway up her thighs to scramble in. She wished she hadn’t changed in Auckland, but it was her creed never to be seen tousled or crumpled. Her immaculate appearance was one of her strongest weapons—and defenses.
Jake swung himself into the front seat and adjusted the rearview mirror slightly. He surveyed her, his eyes cool, green and unwavering, like a knight staring through the visor of his helmet. Yet there were laughter lines, too. As she wriggled, trying to pull her skirt down to her knees, Sass wondered what he looked like when he smiled. The backseat was scorching and the seat belt metal burned as she buckled herself in. Her eyes were scratchy from the long flight and she narrowed them against the glare. Damned sunglasses were in her other bag.
In silence, they drove out of the airport and came almost immediately to a T-junction where the left-hand sign read, Whangarimu City Centre and the right-hand sign read, Whangarimu Heads. They turned right.
JAKE WATCHED HER PROFILE as she took in the scenery, and wondered how it would strike a stranger. The road hugged the contours of the harbor, threading through the myriad bays, each rimmed by a horseshoe of modest homes and with a cluster of small yachts bobbing on the late-afternoon tide. A seagull wheeled above with its hoarse, stuttering cry, and Jake’s stomach churned at the thought of developers coming in to ruin it all. He blamed the Lord of the Rings movies for alerting developers from all over the world to the beauty of New Zealand. Locals didn’t stand a chance against foreign currency, and coastal properties advertised on the Internet were now being snapped up at insane prices. That American braggart had bought Aroha Bay for a few million dollars in one brief visit. Money no object. People, place, nature of no concern. Well, Jake had got rid of him but it seemed the Americans were using a different sort of attack now. Easier on the eye, but this lady gave nothing away.
“Those are nice,” Sass said, nodding at the huge, ancient trees that reached sprawling, gnarled branches out over the water’s edge. Her accent was warm and made him think absurdly of honeysuckle and soft summer nights.
“They’re p
“They’re really something.” Her hand was halfway to her handbag. “Mind if I smoke?”
“I do, actually. I hate the smell of smoke in the car.”
Their eyes locked. The wind was whipping her long hair about her head, and the smell of dog punctuated the air. He knew she knew he was just being contrary.
“No problem,” she said, and sat back, breaking eye contact and looking out over the water as though she didn’t give a damn. It gave him a chance to examine her. Nobody should look that good after a thirty-hour flight. Her eyes were so blue, he wondered if she wore colored contact lenses. She had delicate bones, white-blond hair and a fair complexion.
“You’d better be careful,” he said. “The sun here is fierce and you’ll soon fry with that white skin of yours.”
Her eyes met his. “Thanks for the warning, but I’ve come prepared for things to be pretty hot down here.”
He knew she wasn’t talking about the sun.
“Wise,” he said. “Foreigners get burned very quickly.”
Jake thought he saw her eyebrows arch slightly, a smile of challenge flitting across her face, but it might only have been the effect of sun and shadow from the overhanging trees flashing past.
“Don’t you worry about me, Mr. Finlayson. I can take care of myself.”
With that, she captured her flying hair and somehow twisted it into a knot, untidy but tamed.
“Jake,” he corrected. “Where’s your name come from? I’ve never met a Sass before.”
“It’s a nickname from Sasha.”
“As in sassy?” he hazarded.
She laughed. “No, as in pain in the proverbial. I had two younger brothers who resented their bossy older sister. Our mom didn’t allow cussing.”
Their gazes met again. For a second he saw humor glimmer in her eyes, then Jake looked back at the road. He wasn’t about to start liking her—Miss Pain-in-the.
They fell silent, and instead of trying for more lame conversation, he switched on the stereo, letting the Chili Peppers take them down the length of the harbor. Just as they were about to swing onto the dirt road leading to Aroha Bay, she called out, “Stop.”
It sounded like “Staap.” Jake pulled over and waited as the lawyer took stock. It was, he resentfully acknowledged, an idyllic location for a resort. The Jeep sat on the top of a long, narrow ridge that flattened and rounded into a small peninsula, ending in a long sand spit. The view was almost three-sixty, looking down the harbor on the right-hand side and over the open ocean on the left. It would suit all types of holiday-makers. Aroha Bay below them was flat and tranquil, offering safe swimming all year round. On the seaward side, waves unfurled with lazy uniformity right along the coast. On both sides p
“Aroha Bay is a pretty name. What does it mean?”
“Aroha is the M
She just nodded and asked, “What’s that?” pointing to where the ridge ended in a hill with grassy terraces.
“The p
“Oh?” It was hard to read her expression. “Kurt never mentioned it.”
“He was too busy finding out where the nearest nightclub is.”
Jake saw Sass give a faint, disparaging smile—no love lost between those two, then—and wondered why the p
“Shall we go?” he asked at length.
She drew her eyes away, clearly pulling her thoughts back to the present. “Sure.”
Jake spun the wheels a little as he took off, and ground the gears as they drove the last kilometer down the steep, rutted track to the bay. Bringing the enemy right into the heart of paradise.
CHAPTER TWO
SASS’S HEART SANK as they drew up in a whirl of dust between a run-down old house and what appeared to be a shed. It was nothing like the hotel room she’d been hoping for.
“This is the sleep-out,” said Jake, leaping from the Jeep and waving at the shed. “You’ll be comfortable here, I hope.”
There was not an ounce of sincerity in what he said. Wordlessly, Sass wriggled out of the backseat and dropped onto her heels, which immediately embedded themselves in the dusty driveway. Jake hauled out her bags and led her up the steps onto the deck of the “sleep-out” and into the room.
It might have been a shed once, but now its walls were painted a pale