Cassie's Chance by Antonia Paul Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Antonia Paul
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"You didn't have to come and tell me," she said , listessly.
"I know," he said.
"So why did you really come? A last look at your latest plaything?" She was determined she was not going to cry, as his sexy voice washed over her. She couldn't have him, and her body could quit responding.
He stood, abruptly, and in a stride was beside her, his hands on her shoulders, then her face. She flushed as the electricity hummed between them.
"I wanted to make sure you were ok," he said. "When you got out of the truck, you might have just been annoyed you didn't get your way. But you might have been really upset."
""Um, I'm fine," she said, her vagina muscles clenching involuntarily at the memory of his touch.
"I can see you are." He grinned. "I also wanted another look at your face, so I'd have it fresh in my mind while I'm out on the yacht.
"And . . ."
What else did he want? But the attention was warming her.
"I'd like to see that bird, if you'll show me."
Concern crossed her face."I don't have it, now. I dropped off the tui at the gallery. Your uncle's going to frame it."
"Good." He bent and kissed her cheek."I can wait. I've got plans for when I get back, by the way. Ever been jet-skiing?"
Cassie looked into the eyes she adored. "No, but I've often thought I'd like to."
"A date then," he said, replacing his shades. "And this time, you can't tell me we didn't plan it."
She slumped in the chair as his back retreated down the steps and jogged to the street. She felt stretched out, twanged like a guitar string ; drained. Wiped out.
But he cared. Tears formed in t he corners of her eyes and she wiped them with a flick. He cared. He wasn't just a jerk. She guessed she had herself a guy.
In or out?
Cassie didn't feel like swimming in the morning. She didn't feel in the mood for much at all. Rangi wasn't coming back for another two days.
I t was stupid to feel out-of-sorts over that, and she berated herself; the telling off didn't increase her appetite for painting, especially after she'd looked at the fantail and decided it wasn't salvageable. She'd got the pose wrong, somehow.
Too much thinking about Rangi.
She wasn't in the mood to start the painting again. She went back online, and decided to book another distraction. The Cape Reinga trip, through Northland to the top of New Zealand and back along the beach with sand-boarding included, seemed ideal. She could take it the next day, and that solved the problem of what to do.
After that, she went in search of Suzanne. She'd decided to stay the extra week. Offered coffee, she gratefully accepted .
She spent an enjoyable half hour, and when she mentioned the Northland tour to Suzanne, gave herself a smile. If Mr Chief Rangi wanted to know where she was when he returned from Whangarei, he could find out. Suzanne encouraged her to try the sand-boarding as she said her grandkids had had great fun doing it the previous summer.
Cassie left the hotel and walked down to the gallery. Her painting wasn't hanging. Rachel said Stephen wasn't coming in.
She went down to the sand, not to swim, just to walk. There was a figure by the catamarans, and her heart leaped. He was there? She could see it wasn't Stephen, but then the figure disappeared behind the boats.
She had to investigate. She'd thought he was away. Maybe the yacht delivery had been cancelled. Had he made up a story to cover . . ? She stopped her march across the sand. Surely not?
She had to find out; she wasn't staying away and staying ignorant. She walked more purpose fully, up between the boats, and he was sitting there, slouched against the seawall, cap down over his eyes.
He was Maori, but he wasn't Rangi.
The young man looked up, and she saw he admired her; she knew he admired her. He scrambled to his feet, and she backed off a pace. She saw him considering her. Eartha knew she didn't want his hands anywhere near. She thought he could put his eyes somewhere else too, and was glad she had on loose
"You didn't have to come and tell me," she said , listessly.
"I know," he said.
"So why did you really come? A last look at your latest plaything?" She was determined she was not going to cry, as his sexy voice washed over her. She couldn't have him, and her body could quit responding.
He stood, abruptly, and in a stride was beside her, his hands on her shoulders, then her face. She flushed as the electricity hummed between them.
"I wanted to make sure you were ok," he said. "When you got out of the truck, you might have just been annoyed you didn't get your way. But you might have been really upset."
""Um, I'm fine," she said, her vagina muscles clenching involuntarily at the memory of his touch.
"I can see you are." He grinned. "I also wanted another look at your face, so I'd have it fresh in my mind while I'm out on the yacht.
"And . . ."
What else did he want? But the attention was warming her.
"I'd like to see that bird, if you'll show me."
Concern crossed her face."I don't have it, now. I dropped off the tui at the gallery. Your uncle's going to frame it."
"Good." He bent and kissed her cheek."I can wait. I've got plans for when I get back, by the way. Ever been jet-skiing?"
Cassie looked into the eyes she adored. "No, but I've often thought I'd like to."
"A date then," he said, replacing his shades. "And this time, you can't tell me we didn't plan it."
She slumped in the chair as his back retreated down the steps and jogged to the street. She felt stretched out, twanged like a guitar string ; drained. Wiped out.
But he cared. Tears formed in t he corners of her eyes and she wiped them with a flick. He cared. He wasn't just a jerk. She guessed she had herself a guy.
In or out?
Cassie didn't feel like swimming in the morning. She didn't feel in the mood for much at all. Rangi wasn't coming back for another two days.
I t was stupid to feel out-of-sorts over that, and she berated herself; the telling off didn't increase her appetite for painting, especially after she'd looked at the fantail and decided it wasn't salvageable. She'd got the pose wrong, somehow.
Too much thinking about Rangi.
She wasn't in the mood to start the painting again. She went back online, and decided to book another distraction. The Cape Reinga trip, through Northland to the top of New Zealand and back along the beach with sand-boarding included, seemed ideal. She could take it the next day, and that solved the problem of what to do.
After that, she went in search of Suzanne. She'd decided to stay the extra week. Offered coffee, she gratefully accepted .
She spent an enjoyable half hour, and when she mentioned the Northland tour to Suzanne, gave herself a smile. If Mr Chief Rangi wanted to know where she was when he returned from Whangarei, he could find out. Suzanne encouraged her to try the sand-boarding as she said her grandkids had had great fun doing it the previous summer.
Cassie left the hotel and walked down to the gallery. Her painting wasn't hanging. Rachel said Stephen wasn't coming in.
She went down to the sand, not to swim, just to walk. There was a figure by the catamarans, and her heart leaped. He was there? She could see it wasn't Stephen, but then the figure disappeared behind the boats.
She had to investigate. She'd thought he was away. Maybe the yacht delivery had been cancelled. Had he made up a story to cover . . ? She stopped her march across the sand. Surely not?
She had to find out; she wasn't staying away and staying ignorant. She walked more purpose fully, up between the boats, and he was sitting there, slouched against the seawall, cap down over his eyes.
He was Maori, but he wasn't Rangi.
The young man looked up, and she saw he admired her; she knew he admired her. He scrambled to his feet, and she backed off a pace. She saw him considering her. Eartha knew she didn't want his hands anywhere near. She thought he could put his eyes somewhere else too, and was glad she had on loose