favoured. Even though she knew it was risky. Every minute she spent with him increased the attraction he held. Brought her closer to falling back into the dangerous quagmire of emotions she’d once before barely survived.
Slowly Rebecca nodded her assent.
Not far turned out to be a twenty-minute drive into the country, where Damon finally nosed the Mercedes into a long pohutukawa-lined avenue. The large hand-carved wooden letters against a schist wall announced simply Lakeland Lodge. Through the trees Rebecca caught a glimpse of a large country house and a vast silver sheet of water glittering beyond.
Her breath caught. “How lovely,” she breathed.
The lodge radiated serenity. Informal arrangements of country flowers decorated the foyer, and Rebecca paused at a large picture window at the sight of the colourful gardens leading down to the lake.
“What magnificent gardens,” she murmured.
Damon smiled. “I thought you’d like it here.”
After a moment she took the arm he offered and they made their way to the restaurant, where Damon was greeted with enthusiasm and shown to a table with a fine view of the gardens.
“How on earth did you discover this place?” Rebecca asked after they’d perused the menu and placed their orders.
“In the way one finds out about all best-kept secrets—by word of mouth. I came here to celebrate the silver wedding anniversary of a business acquaintance.”
“I never even knew it existed.”
“Then I have achieved something. I didn’t think there was an establishment in Auckland you didn’t know.” He gave her a narrow smile. Before Rebecca could retort, their smoked salmon starters arrived and a companionable silence fell between them.
“That was heavenly.” She laid her fork down. Taking a deep breath she decided to get whatever he’d brought her here to discuss out of the way. “There is something you wanted to talk about?”
His eyes became serious, intent. His mouth flattened into a grim line. Apprehension flooded Rebecca. She hoped it wasn’t what she’d been dreading. Did he suspect…?
Had he worked it out? No, he couldn’t have. He’d have given some sign surely. But the gravity of his expression worried her as the seconds dragged past and still he didn’t answer.
Just when her nerves reached breaking point, he sighed.
“It’s something I don’t want to admit. Something I’ve been fighting for longer than I care to think about.”
“What is it?” she asked in a rush.
He didn’t reply.
The taut pallor of his face scared her. She pinned on a bright smile. “Come on, fess up. It can’t be that bad.”
Or could it? Was something wrong with Soula? But, no, she’d spoken to Soula only half an hour ago, and the older woman had sounded upbeat, joking that she would be dancing soon, that certainly she would not need a wheelchair.
Could it be…? Was something wrong with Damon? Horror swept her. She thought wildly of James, of the shock after his diagnosis.
“Are you ill?” She blurted it out and could have kicked herself when his eyes widened.
“No, no. Nothing like that. I want you, Rebecca.” He blurted the words out and a blaze of colour stained his angled cheekbones. Her knees went weak at the sight of the naked emotion that flamed in his eyes. Then the controlled mask dropped back into place and she thought she’d hallucinated.
She blinked. Once. Twice. But the remote, powerful businessman remained. Unshakable, hardly the kind of man who would utter such a stark statement with so much haunting desperation.
“What did you say?” she whispered at last as the seconds stretched and the silence grew more strained.
“I want to make love to you.” His voice was flat, his face expressionless. He could’ve been talking about something mundane, something he didn’t particularly care much about.
Except she’d seen that hectic, passionate flash of emotion. And a telltale flame of fire still seared his cheeks.
Disbelief floored
Slowly Rebecca nodded her assent.
Not far turned out to be a twenty-minute drive into the country, where Damon finally nosed the Mercedes into a long pohutukawa-lined avenue. The large hand-carved wooden letters against a schist wall announced simply Lakeland Lodge. Through the trees Rebecca caught a glimpse of a large country house and a vast silver sheet of water glittering beyond.
Her breath caught. “How lovely,” she breathed.
The lodge radiated serenity. Informal arrangements of country flowers decorated the foyer, and Rebecca paused at a large picture window at the sight of the colourful gardens leading down to the lake.
“What magnificent gardens,” she murmured.
Damon smiled. “I thought you’d like it here.”
After a moment she took the arm he offered and they made their way to the restaurant, where Damon was greeted with enthusiasm and shown to a table with a fine view of the gardens.
“How on earth did you discover this place?” Rebecca asked after they’d perused the menu and placed their orders.
“In the way one finds out about all best-kept secrets—by word of mouth. I came here to celebrate the silver wedding anniversary of a business acquaintance.”
“I never even knew it existed.”
“Then I have achieved something. I didn’t think there was an establishment in Auckland you didn’t know.” He gave her a narrow smile. Before Rebecca could retort, their smoked salmon starters arrived and a companionable silence fell between them.
“That was heavenly.” She laid her fork down. Taking a deep breath she decided to get whatever he’d brought her here to discuss out of the way. “There is something you wanted to talk about?”
His eyes became serious, intent. His mouth flattened into a grim line. Apprehension flooded Rebecca. She hoped it wasn’t what she’d been dreading. Did he suspect…?
Had he worked it out? No, he couldn’t have. He’d have given some sign surely. But the gravity of his expression worried her as the seconds dragged past and still he didn’t answer.
Just when her nerves reached breaking point, he sighed.
“It’s something I don’t want to admit. Something I’ve been fighting for longer than I care to think about.”
“What is it?” she asked in a rush.
He didn’t reply.
The taut pallor of his face scared her. She pinned on a bright smile. “Come on, fess up. It can’t be that bad.”
Or could it? Was something wrong with Soula? But, no, she’d spoken to Soula only half an hour ago, and the older woman had sounded upbeat, joking that she would be dancing soon, that certainly she would not need a wheelchair.
Could it be…? Was something wrong with Damon? Horror swept her. She thought wildly of James, of the shock after his diagnosis.
“Are you ill?” She blurted it out and could have kicked herself when his eyes widened.
“No, no. Nothing like that. I want you, Rebecca.” He blurted the words out and a blaze of colour stained his angled cheekbones. Her knees went weak at the sight of the naked emotion that flamed in his eyes. Then the controlled mask dropped back into place and she thought she’d hallucinated.
She blinked. Once. Twice. But the remote, powerful businessman remained. Unshakable, hardly the kind of man who would utter such a stark statement with so much haunting desperation.
“What did you say?” she whispered at last as the seconds stretched and the silence grew more strained.
“I want to make love to you.” His voice was flat, his face expressionless. He could’ve been talking about something mundane, something he didn’t particularly care much about.
Except she’d seen that hectic, passionate flash of emotion. And a telltale flame of fire still seared his cheeks.
Disbelief floored
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