Page 115 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars
She nods, her expression inscrutable. She’s being careful to hide whatever she’s feeling. “And after that? Were the next two in the UK?”
“Yes.”
“What were their names?”
“I never asked.”
“Linc!” She looks shocked.
I roll my eyes. “I’m joking… jeez. I met Alys on a dig in Scotland. We dated for over a year but never moved in together. The last one was called Eurydice.”
She laughs. “You’re kidding me.”
“Actually, no. She called herself CeeCee. She was fun.” The words are out before I can vet them, and Elora’s eyes flash.
“Fun?” she says. “Did she like playing Pictionary or something?”
I stifle a laugh, amused that she’s jealous. “She was just a friend. We only hooked up a few times.”
“Put it about, did she?”
I raise an eyebrow, and she looks down, chastised. “Sorry,” she mumbles.
I drink my coffee, pretending to be offended, although secretly I’m smiling.
She puts her face in her hands. “That was so rude. I really am sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Aw, don’t be nice. I hate that I said that. It’s not me at all.”
“Lora, sweetheart, it’s what happens when you like someone. You want them all to yourself. You feel jealous at the thought of anyone else touching them. It’s perfectly normal.”
She lowers her hands. “That would be acceptable if we were dating, but we’re not, and I don’t have any claim on you. I do know that. I don’t want you to think I’m being overly romantic.”
Her cheeks have flushed slightly. She was cute as a girl, but she’s beautiful now, her nose a little tip-tilted, her blue eyes large and gorgeous, her cheekbones high enough to give her face an attractive shape.
She’s jealous because she has feelings for me. I know she does. That makes me melt inside. I adore this woman. She drives me crazy. And suddenly I know it’s going to be impossible for me to leave her behind.
“You do have a claim on me,” I tell her.
She stares at me.
“You’re the only girl I got wings for,” I remind her.
Her gaze drops to my neck. “I wondered whether you had any tattoos inspired by other women.”
“No. Unless you count Boudicca and Cleopatra.”
Her eyes meet mine. We study each other for a long time. I feel the way I do when I spot something unusual on an excavation or in a museum—a tingle that starts at the back of my neck and travels all the way through me. A warning that there’s something special beneath the surface, something I need to investigate.
Elora opens her mouth to say something, but at that moment the flight attendant comes back to collect our plates and cups, and then the pilot announces we’ll be landing shortly, and the moment passes. But the memory of that feeling remains with me, and I make a mental note to think more about it later.
*
Henry’s waiting for us at the airport, and we spot him as we exit the gate. He’s Maori and was tall as a boy, and now he’s even taller with an impressive physique, but looks super sharp in an obviously expensive suit. I know that he married Juliette, one of his colleagues at Kia Kaha, and they have a baby. He’s alone right now, though, and he comes over and gives me a big bearhug that nearly breaks my spine.
“Linc,” he says in his deep, gruff voice. “It’s been a long time.”
