One Night in Her Arms Read online

  “It’s pretty up there.” I’d been some time ago, but couldn’t remember when, or who with. Probably to see friends.

  “Yes, it is. I like how remote it feels.” His voice dropped a fraction, taking on a husky note. It soothed my jangled nerves, as easily as balm on sunburned skin.

  There was a question I had to ask, before I lost my nerve. “This is bugging me, but I can’t remember where we met. Do you know?”

  Wariness flashed across his eyes, before he looked away. “Perhaps a conference? Or a seminar?”

  I hadn’t been to many conferences. “Maybe.”

  “Which University did you attend? Victoria in Wellington, wasn’t it?” I nodded. That had been on my application form. “I’ve done some lecturing there. I’d guess that’s where you remember me from.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t want to appear an idiot. Time to change the subject. “If you like fried dumplings, there’s a little shop near Parliament that specialises in them. They only do takeaways, but they’re quick and delicious. I go there if I’m that end of town.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll share the platter with me.” His eyes twinkled, and he gestured to the approaching waiter. “Here they are. You can tell me how they compare.”

  He insisted we share the dumplings, and it was impossible to resist. Little crispy parcels filled with pork and spices, served with a fierce chilli sauce, I was in food heaven. When our main courses arrived, he frowned at my salad and placed half his salmon on my plate too, along with fries and mushrooms.

  The previously halting conversation became easier as we devoured the lunch. I made him laugh when I told him about dressing in a hurry one morning, and arriving in the café with odd shoes. He delighted me by quoting lines from a recent movie I’d loved.

  By the time the food was gone and we sat back in our chairs, I felt as comfortable with him as I did with any of my oldest friends. The thought made me pause. This wasn’t a date. I wasn’t here to flirt with Daniel, I was here to persuade him to invest in my business—something I seemed to have forgotten about in the past couple hours.

  Chapter Four

  The meal was done. The empty dishes cleared away. We lingered over tiny cups of peppermint tea in the deserted restaurant and Daniel seemed in no hurry to make a move. I tamped down my nerves and drew the folder back to me. Running my fingers across it, I put my professional front in place.

  “Should we talk about my application now?”

  He nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Show time. I slid out the documents and fanned the photographs across the table. “This is the new premises as they look now. And this,” I touched a montage of images, “is the mock-up of how it will look after the refurbishment.” I was proud of the before and after pictures, and had spent hours crafting them in the evenings. “You can see I’m trying to keep the vibe the same.”

  “Same mosaics,” he murmured.

  “Yes. I’ve found a local art student who will produce them for cost price, for the exposure. It’s the same with the artwork on the walls.” Next I lifted up a printed spreadsheet. “The bulk of the cost though, is the remodelling of the space to provide enough power and water. The bathroom needs attention too. These are the formal estimates for the work.”

  He sifted through the papers, studying them intently. I could only sit and watch, my hands knotted in my lap, and hope he couldn’t actually hear how loud my heart was pounding. This had to work. It had to.

  “Tell me, Hannah. If you didn’t run a cafe, what would you do instead? If you could do anything?”

  I expected a question about the budget. Or the contractors’ estimates. I scrambled to answer, but then hesitated. “I’m not sure. Interior design, I think.” I gestured to the montage of designs I’d done. “I did all this. I like playing with colour and shapes.” I gave a self-conscious laugh. “That makes me sound like a pre-schooler.”

  “Not at all. It makes you sound like someone who enjoys what they do.”

  I managed to smile. There was nothing else to show him. Nothing more to offer. Would it be enough?

  Daniel traced one finger down a list of numbers in the printout. “If you had a bigger budget for the remodelling, what would you do?”

  A bigger budget? “I’d use different lighting, and hang some huge mirrors to make the space feel larger. I’d also invest in a patio heater for outside, to encourage people to stay longer.” My mind danced over the options. “And better seating for inside. My current option is practical and robust, but cheap, and not very pretty.”

  “And how long would you be closed, while you moved premises?”

  “I’d do the actual move over the long Labour weekend, since I close Sundays anyway. As far as my customers are concerned, I’m open for business as normal, just relocated a street.”

  “Okay.” He sat back and studied my face. Silence fell between us and I bit my lip to avoid any nervous chatter escaping.

  Was that okay he liked it? Okay he had enough information? For God’s sake, I screeched inside my head, say something.

  “I’m happy to invest. I’ll call the office and confirm, and they can email you the formal paperwork for signing.”

  The breath lodged in my chest and then whooshed out on an ecstatic burst. “You will? Oh, my God, that’s fantastic. Thank you.” Without thinking, I reached across the table, grabbed his hand, and squeezed it. “Thank you.”

  I wanted to leap up and dance around, waving my hands in the air and shouting to everyone. I’ve done it. I can save my business. I couldn’t hold back a great, beaming grin, and already I was planning the people I needed to tell, the list of things to be done.

  Several thoughts broke into my rapture. I needed to check what the conditions of the funding were...And I really needed to let go of Daniel. Strange how I didn’t want to break the spell and do either.

  I released his hand, but couldn’t take my eyes off him. He looked as pleased as I felt. “This must be the greatest part of your job. Giving such amazing news to people.” My tongue had gone into overdrive.

  “It’s a good feeling.”

  My fingers itched to grab my phone and start making calls, but I acknowledged there was still business to be done. I took a rapid breath, and then a deeper one. “Okay. So what happens now? And I guess I need to know whether you want a share of the equity, or a deferred loan, or something else.”

  “I don’t have the fine details to hand. The different options will be clearly shown in the paperwork, and you’ll get to work out the best solution for your needs.” He shrugged, but it looked awkward. “It’s good to do business with you, Hannah.”

  There was something he wasn’t telling me. I dialled back on my excitement and forced myself to think clearly. “Why do I get the sense there’s a ‘but’ coming?”

  One eyebrow raised. “No ‘buts’, although there is a question I’d like to ask you.”

  I swallowed. Was the other shoe about to fall? “Go on.”

  Daniel stared down at the papers on the table, and flicked at the corner of one with his thumb. For the first time since we’d sat down together, he looked ill at ease. “Thing is, I need to hire a designer for my place in Peka Peka.” He looked up, his eyes guileless. “I’d like you to take a look, if you have time. Maybe this weekend.”

  Chapter Five

  My mind stalled on Daniel’s question. Go to his Peka Peka house? This weekend? I hadn’t seen that coming.

  “I must emphasise,” he said. “This is in no way linked to the offer of funding. If you decline, there will be no repercussions. I give you my word.”

  I believed him. Why, I didn’t know, but I trusted my instincts.

  His jaw tightened as I gazed at him. “It’s okay, I understand.” Did I imagine the bleak look that flitted across his eyes when he spoke?

  “What are you looking for? For your house?”

  “It’s very plain,” he said slowly, as though he didn’t quite believe the conversation we were having. I wasn�
��t sure I did either. “I’d welcome your suggestions on how to introduce some colour and life to it.”

  I could spare a few hours, and if I was honest with myself, I was curious about his house. And maybe the man who owned it.

  SOMEWHERE ALONG THE way, the invitation to look over Daniel’s house morphed into spending the night. In separate rooms, of course. And now, two days later, I drove out of the city, my overnight bag in the back seat.

  I’d been on a total high since our lunch together. The paperwork was signed and the funds already transferred to my bank account. Everything was falling into place. I hadn’t felt so relaxed and happy in years.

  It was a glorious late spring day, and even though clouds gathered on the horizon, the sun beat down as I drove up to the coast. I’d brought my camera and laptop, ready to produce mock ups and rough designs, and at the last minute, my old sketchbook. It’d been years since I’d done any real art, as opposed to computer-generated, and maybe this weekend I’d get the chance.

  Daniel gave me clear directions how to find his house. The GPS on my phone would only take me to the closest road, but that was common in this sparsely populated area. As I drove through the nearest village, I recognised it. On my left was a giant horse chestnut tree, so unusual for New Zealand, and I knew there was a delicious bakery just up ahead. I’d eaten croissants from there. Who’d I been visiting? One of my friends from Uni, Lindsay, had gotten married somewhere around here. Maybe that’s who I was thinking of.

  I found the turn off for Daniel’s house, and drove slowly along a rough track. It didn’t look as though many people came here, judging by the height of the grass in the middle, but that suited me. The city was constantly busy and I often longed for quiet.

  It was weird. I didn’t feel nervous or anxious at all. I was planning to spend the weekend with an almost-stranger and I had no qualms about it. Had he hypnotised me? I chuckled at the thought. He wanted me to help with his interior decoration, nothing more. If I wanted to use it as a chance to get to know him better, that was down to me. He’d made it clear why I was invited.

  Just in case, I’d tossed a packet of condoms into my bag, and a bottle of champagne. After all, there was the funding to celebrate.

  When I saw Daniel’s house, I had another jarring déjà vu moment. The white clapboard front was familiar. I’d been here before, parked on this circle of gravel and crunched my way to that door. It’d been a different colour then, but everything else was the same. The sprawling climbing rose that drifted across the trellis and the Pohutukawa tree, although that had been smaller.

  I climbed out of my aging Subaru wagon and stretched, taking a deep breath of the air. Sea spray and flowers. Totally different from the city.

  Was this where I stayed for Lindsay’s wedding party? It was possible. I’d ask Daniel how long he’d had this place.

  As I thought about him the front door opened, and there he stood, a welcoming smile on his face. He strode toward my car and for one awkward moment I thought he was going to hug me. Part of me wanted that, but I didn’t know him well enough. He paused and shoved his hands in his pockets. He wore tailored slacks and another crisp white shirt, but this time the top buttons were unfastened, and there was no tie.

  “You found it okay?” His voice was casual.

  “Yes, the directions were good, thanks.” I clung gratefully to the polite conversation. Standing in a pool of late afternoon sunshine, Daniel looked delicious and I wondered how he looked naked. I reined back the inappropriate direction my thoughts were taking. I was here as a professional designer. Hired help. “Have you, uh, been here long?”

  “Half an hour ahead of you. Just long enough to pick up something for dinner.” He stepped forward, every inch the polite host. “I’ll take your things.” Before I could demur, he opened the car door and plucked my bag from the back seat. “Just the one?”

  “Thanks, yes. I meant, have you owned this house for long?”

  “No. I only just bought it. Come in, and I’ll give you the guided tour.”

  The house was beautiful. Long windows in all the rooms made it feel spacious, as did the open-plan lounge and dining room. It was built high enough to give a tantalising view of the sandy beach a short walk away—a path I’d definitely taken before. He was right about the decor being plain. The walls were a uniform pale cream, with oatmeal rugs on bleached pine floorboards. Leather sofas were off-white, and matched the curtains. It felt as though I’d walked into a child’s colouring book.

  “It’s, ah, very neutral,” I managed. I’d never seen a house so devoid of colour before. The bathrooms had white porcelain fittings. The kitchen was spotless and the four bedrooms followed suit. It would drive me crazy to try and live somewhere so bland. I itched to start work on it right away.

  The only room that was different was the master bedroom. Instead of bleached pine furniture, the bed was a richer colour, a warm honeyed oak. I ran my fingers across the ornate decoration on the headboard. Birds in flight had been carved across it. They soared and swooped, drawing the eye and inviting touch. “This is stunning.” I glanced up to see him watching me, and I pulled back my hand. “It looks old.”

  “I’ve had it a while.”

  I wanted to stay in there longer, but it was hard to come up with an excuse that didn’t sound pervy, so I followed him to the doorway of the en suite bathroom, and then back to the hallway.

  “So. That’s everything. What do you think?” Daniel’s hands were firmly in his pockets again. It was a position that should have looked relaxed, but the tension in his shoulders was visible. He was trying to put me at ease, I guessed. Maybe having a stranger staying here was making him uncomfortable. He might not like his privacy being invaded.

  “Like I said before, it’s so neutral you can do anything with it. The question is, how much colour do you want?”

  His brows dipped briefly. “If you’d just moved in, and had the chance to do anything, what would you do? Where would your tastes run? I’m just curious.” He rocked back on his heels. “Have a think about it, and we can talk some more later. I’m going to start dinner, so come out on the deck when you’re ready.”

  Chapter six

  I ducked into the guest room, grabbed my laptop and headed for the deck, my feet leading me unerringly in the right direction. Almost as though I’d been here before. For heavens sake, this was driving me insane. I’d been here with Lindsay. End of story.

  Like the inside, the deck was spacious and barely furnished. The barbecue was an expensive one set into a brick housing, and there were two comfortable looking padded sofas along with a solid wooden table and four chairs. Early evening sunlight washed across the wooden floorboards, but one of the sofas sat in the shade.

  Daniel looked up from the barbecue, and waved a set of tongs at the shaded area. “You look as though you burn easily. Would you prefer to sit there?”

  “Thank you. I have to cover up during the day, but I’m fine with the sun this low.” I put my laptop on the table and sniffed the air. “What’s for dinner? Smells divine.”

  “Marinated pork fillet and vegetable skewers. I’ve got some Haloumi cheese too.”

  “Very Mediterranean.”

  “It’s probably the only meal I can cook reliably.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” Was I flirting with him?

  “You might have to help me with breakfast.” Was he flirting back? “There’s wine chilling in the fridge, if you’d like some.”

  I wandered through the sliding doors into the massive kitchen and the American-style fridge. There wasn’t much inside, not enough to warrant its size, but I found the wine in the door. A Sauvignon Blanc from one of New Zealand’s more upmarket vineyards. The man had money, but also seemed to have taste.

  Wine glasses sat in a nearby cupboard. I selected two and headed back outside. “Would you like some now?”

  “Yes please. Cooking is thirsty work.”

  I poured a generous measure and walked
up to him, close enough to touch, before placing the glass on a shelf set into the wall. “Can I help at all?”

  “I’m ready to serve up. Could you put some music on?” He nodded to an iPod on the sofa. “The speakers are all wireless. Just select something and press play.”

  Checking out someone’s music tastes was always fun. I scrolled through the artists and albums, noting many of my favourites. Pearl Jam fit most occasions, and I chose Rearviewmirror, their greatest hits album. Moments later, the haunting tones of Yellow Ledbetter drifted across the open area.

  “Good choice.” Daniel flashed me a smile. “Let’s eat.”

  I WANTED TO PINCH MYSELF, to make sure this wasn’t all a dream. The kind that involved a handsome—sexy—guy who seemed intent on making me enjoy his company, and treated me like a princess. The wine flowed and we picked at chocolate covered strawberries, while we playfully argued about our favourite music. I was so relaxed I could have slithered off the sofa and melted into a puddle on the ground.

  So far we hadn’t talked about decorating, or design ideas. The conversation had skipped from music to movies, whether dogs made better pets than cats, and if the Margarita was a better cocktail than the Manhattan. Pearl Jam played on in the background and I let out a happy sigh. “This is a gorgeous retreat, Daniel. You’re very lucky.”

  His gaze was fixed on the sun in the distance. “We get a great view of the sunset from the beach. Fancy a walk? It’s not far.”

  I was getting used to the way he carefully changed the subject if we began to encroach on anything personal. It made me even more curious about him. He wore no wedding ring, and there was no pale stripe on his finger that would indicate where a ring had been.

  When he held out his hand to help me up from the sofa, I had no qualms about taking it. I didn’t let it go when I stood up. Tangling our fingers together felt right. More right than any other guy had in a long time. Walking by his side down the sand-strewn path had an easy quality to it, it felt natural. Something I could do again. Something I’d done before.