Chapter Nine

Zoe’s whole body shook. She sweated. Her throat rasped as she breathed. Her stomach ached and she feared being physically sick. She still wasn’t sure if she could do this, despite Bess’s loving encouragement.

Thank goodness Bess had assumed all Zoe’s nervousness and worry was wrapped up with meeting her relations today. It had been hard appearing happy and excited when Bess got home, but she’d never let on anything about Connor. That ache she’d keep tucked away inside.

Zoe sat slumped on a bench seat next to a children’s playground. There were no kids playing here today, although she could see numerous families along the street as children tried out brand new bikes, skateboards, and scooters. The laughter and squeals and shouts of glee contrasted with her morbid thoughts.

A large green house across the road and down a little was her destination, if she could find the guts to make those last fifty meters. There hadn’t been any movement outside this house while she’d been sitting here, but the windows were wide open and indistinguishable people were moving around inside. Her relations.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at her watch. Bess had asked for her to arrive promptly at eleven-thirty. She didn’t know what her grandmother had planned, but Zoe needed to concur with her wishes. After all, Bess was the only person likely to have any kind words for this unknown relative.

Two minutes to go. She tried standing, but her legs refused to obey. Her fingers tugged hard at her hair in an attempt to focus on a different pain. She grabbed a small mirror out of her bag to check how hideous she looked. She groaned.

Somehow she had to stop the quiver in her chin and lips. Her heart was pounding hard enough to jump out of her chest. She rubbed her hands up and down her legs, telling them they didn’t have a choice now, they had to carry her. After some long, deep breaths she made a wobbled start.

Cold seeped right through her. Her stomach ached worse than she’d ever remembered. The pain was almost crippling, but somehow she managed to walk up to the door and ring the doorbell.

Immediate quietness enveloped the house. Zoe was shaking so bad she slumped against the wall. Inside hands clapped and Bess’s voice called. “Come into the lounge everyone. I have something to tell you. Come on, come on, hurry.”

Zoe almost smiled as Bess’s voice continued, “Leave that, Maria, it won’t spoil. We’ll dish in a moment. No, leave the door, Jason, I’ll get it. It’s Gran’s Christmas present to you all.”

“Okay, Gran.”

Zoe stiffened at the sound of Connor’s voice teasing his grandmother—their grandmother. “What have you managed to do this year?”

Other adult and children’s voices clamored to know what she’d got them.

Zoe took a deep breath, holding onto the doorframe for dear life as the door swung open. The breath she’d been holding escaped. Those assembled in the lounge were out of sight of the doorway.

“Are you all right?” Bess whispered. A beaming smile covered her face.

Zoe shook her head. “I think I’m going to puke.”

“Rubbish.” Bess’s arms slipped around her and Zoe clung tight, shaking like a leaf. Bess gently drew away. “It’ll be wonderful. You’ll see.”

“Yeah, r-right,” Zoe stammered through chattering teeth.

“Trust me. I wouldn’t put you through something as overwhelming as this if I wasn’t sure, Zoe. Come on, where’s your grit? Head up, boobs out, you can do it.”

Zoe swallowed hard, lifting her chin and stiffening her back. “I’m trying to believe you.”

“That’s my girl. Come on.”

Zoe only had a second to take in the mass of people standing and sitting haphazardly around a large room before a steely voice rang out.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

Unwelcome heat rushed into her cheeks as her gaze locked with Connor’s. She shivered at the cold loathing in his face. Turning frantically to escape, Bess’s fingers tightened around her arm halting her attempt.

“Connor, sit down and shut up.”

Zoe’s gaze flew to Bess. She’d never heard Gran speak with such determination and authority.

Perhaps Connor hadn’t either. In her peripheral vision, Zoe saw him sink into a seat, his mouth hanging open.

Bess’s arm sneaked about her shoulders and Zoe was turned away from those cold eyes until she faced two men near the fireplace, one sitting, one standing. Zoe feasted on them as they looked back at her and their mother with perplexed frowns.

“Warren, David, I’d like you to meet the boarder you’ve been so worried about. This is Tommy’s daughter, Zoe.”

Zoe couldn’t get air past the lump in her throat as she continued staring at the two men, waiting for their reaction. After a moment of stunned silence the room broke out in an uproar, questions flying everywhere.

Zoe’s gaze remained glued on her two uncles as their expressions changed from curiosity to astonishment to wonder. David was the first to enfold her into a tight hug, although straight after Warren’s arms surrounded them both.

“I can’t believe it.” The excitement in David’s voice took any sting out of the words.

“Let me look at you.” Warren drew her around to face him. After studying her for a moment he burst into what sounded like delighted laughter. “She’s the spitting image of you, Mum.”

“I know,” Bess replied, joining the tight little circle. “I knew the moment I opened the door to her.” She poked a finger at both of her sons. “That’s why I never worried about my boarder. I always knew who she was.”

“It would have been nice for you to have told us.” Connor’s cold voice affected no one else.

“You’re Jenny’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Zoe’s head swung around.

Warren was smiling at her. “I met her a few times. She and Tommy were besotted. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. What ever happened? I expected they’d get married when Tom came home. I know he expected to.”

“I guess I happened,” Zoe whispered. “I don’t understand why Mum never told him.” Zoe’s voice wobbled. “I—”

“She was real proud of how well Tommy was doing, of what he could achieve.” Warren smiled down at her. “She loved him something fierce. I expect she thought she was doing the right thing.”

“It wasn’t, though,” Zoe muttered.

“No, it wasn’t,” he murmured into her ear as he hugged her tight.

The rest of the day became a blur to Zoe. All the faces she met were so familiar to her. She’d pored over their photos enough during the last six months, but now she had personalities to attach to those faces. She returned Bess’s “I told you so” smile so many times during the day, she wondered if her face might wear out.

Zoe couldn’t believe how wonderful these people were. Her family had taken her in immediately, and although questions continued all through the day, there had never been one second’s doubt in anyone’s mind she was who she said she was, or that her reasons for being here were anything but pure. A glow of happiness warmed her like never before.

Everyone was so amazing, so welcoming. Except Connor. He stayed in the background with a black scowl on his face the whole day, making no attempt to speak to her at all. She’d caught his eye on occasion, but his face remained cold and stony with anger.

She bit her lip. Hearing his teasing voice change and seeing his smile disappear every time she was close cut into her like a sharp knife.

She expected once he knew the truth, he’d understand her stance. He must know their family relationship was the only reason…Zoe pressed a hand over her face, her throat suddenly convulsing…her gaze racing around, looking for an escape.

Stumbling through the kitchen she rushed out the back door, hoping no one had seen her mad dash. Sinking onto the back steps, she buried her face in her hands, moaning.

What had she done? I’ve fallen in love with him. My cousin. Wasn’t that a forbidden liaison?

Tears gathered, obliterating her vision. She leaned her head against her upraised knees. What am I going to do?

She wasn’t aware of concerned whispering behind her until a hand touched her shoulder. She jumped, knowing she mustn’t look at anyone right now for fear they might see her anguish and recognize its cause…

“Are you all right, Zoe?” Bess’s voice was thick with alarm.

There was only one person worse who could have found her in this state. She swallowed a hysterical laugh and nodded.

“Are you sure?” Bess sank down beside her on the step.

Zoe nodded, turning her face away. Bess was an astute lady, Zoe couldn’t risk Gran getting a whisper of what was troubling her.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

Zoe held herself stiff as Bess’s arm encircled her shoulders, lest she crawl into her grandmother’s embrace and sob her heart out.

“It’s all been too much for you, hasn’t it?”

Embarrassed at the half snort, half sob that erupted from her throat, Zoe buried her head in her knees and rocked herself. “I’m okay,” she mumbled. “Really.”

Bess sat beside her, gently rubbing her back for some time before whispering. “We’ll always be here for you, Zoe. Always. No matter what. You know that, don’t you? You do believe it?”

Zoe turned a tear-streaked face and gave an unsteady smile. “I believe it,” she brokenly told her grandmother.

The two pairs of blue eyes clung together until Bess leaned forward and kissed Zoe’s cheek. “I’ll give you some space. But promise you’ll come to me if you need to talk.”

“I promise, Gran.” Zoe guessed her smile was weak and watery. She just hoped Bess wouldn’t realize talking wasn’t going to help solve Zoe’s heartbreaking problem. Nothing could help that.

Apparently no one noticed she and Connor avoiding each other. Even Bess. With so many people in the house it should be easy to make sure they weren’t in the same room together, or if they were, there were plenty of others around them.

Zoe mentioned returning to the backpackers that night, but no one would let her go. She was spending every moment of the holiday with them, they insisted.

David and his wife Gloria appeared delighted they’d won the argument of where Zoe was to sleep. The time was creeping toward midnight when she fare-welled her Uncle Warren and the remainder of his family, and followed David and Gloria to their car.

“Okay, baby?” Bess’s arm slipped about her shoulders as they neared the car.

Zoe turned to her grandmother and promptly burst into tears, clinging to the older woman. “Oh, Bess,” she mumbled onto her shoulder.

A sharp, mock shake jerked her back. “No more of that ‘Bess’ rubbish now, my girl.”

“Sorry, Gran.”

Zoe’s heart filled with contentment when her wobbly smile was returned with one just as wobbly from Bess. “You were right. I’m so sorry I didn’t let you call them that very first day.”

Zoe was relieved Bess’s satisfied I-told-you-so look wasn’t put into words. Instead she was given another tight hug. “We got to know each other.” Her eyes shone. “Now you have the rest of your life to get to know the remainder of your family.”

“Thank you, Gran. Thank you for the best Christmas present I could ever have dreamed of.”

“Tish-tosh.” Bess’s happiness mirrored her own, despite the scoff. “Hurry up and get out of here. We’ll see you in the morning. David,”—she leaned down to the driver’s window—“make sure you have her back here by ten.”

“Ten? No way,” David argued as he started the car. “We’re going to have some time with her first. We’ll be here for the barbie, not before.”

“But—”

Zoe giggled as David accelerated away leaving Bess shaking a fist after the car.

“She’s had you for six months.” David’s teasing growl warmed Zoe’s heart. “If she thinks she’s going to dictate how long we spend with you…”

“What an incredible day.” Gloria yawned as David turned the car toward the city to pick up Zoe’s bag.

Incredible? That wasn’t the half of it. The last twelve hours had been more exhilarating, happy, and devastatingly heartbreaking than Zoe could ever have imagined.

****

What followed was the most surreal week of Zoe’s life. Her lifelong craving for space and solitude vanished as someone was with her for every waking moment, her family desperately trying to get to know her and cement her place in their lives.

Discovering David’s younger daughter was only two days older than she had excited them both. A special bond grew between her and Natasha, who claimed having an “almost twin” cousin was as great as having another sister. By the third night at David’s, she’d abandoned their guest bedroom in favor of sharing Tash’s room.

This accounted for the horrible black shadows under her eyes, she tried to believe as she prepared for another day with her family. Oh, what a wonderful word. I never guessed belonging somewhere could make a person feel so…whole.

Turning away from the mirror, her shoulders sagged. It wasn’t Tash keeping her awake every night. During the days, with so many people around, she could pretend; but in the darkness Connor’s cold face haunted her.

As dawn splattered color into the room, she’d accepted she had to talk to him. Biting her lip, she was no closer to knowing how to do so than she had been lying awake half the night. She had to get him alone and have it out. But how?

He’d probably refuse her outright if she asked him, and then everyone would wonder what was going on between them. Their estrangement was the only thing marring this perfect time.

She’d noticed Bess looking at them both a couple of times, a worried frown on her face. She must recognize the atmosphere was different. Even when they’d been fighting in Devonport, there hadn’t been this cold contempt radiating from him.

No. She marched out into the kitchen to join the others for breakfast. Going on like this is impossible. Today I’m going to sort out whatever has stuck in his craw. She grimaced. Or die trying.

Getting him alone was proving impossible. With so many people around, the house was splitting at the seams. Connor always managed to stay in the background—away from wherever she was.

Finally, as they all sat around the table enjoying a quiet coffee after lunch, Zoe grabbed a chance before her courage failed her. Refusing her now would appear churlish and she doubted he’d want to explain why he couldn’t go with her.

She shoved back her seat, her heart pounding, and boldly meeting his cold eyes challenged, “Connor, why don’t we walk off some of that lovely food. You could show me some of your old haunts.”

Triumph raced through her as his eyes narrowed and his murmur of needing to help with the dishes was met with quick denials from his parents.

“We’ve got plenty of people here. You two go and explore the neighborhood. You’ll find a few changes, Connor.” His father smiled benignly at them.

Once they were out of sight, Zoe’s casual saunter changed to a stomp as he remained one pace behind her, a murderous expression still on his face.

“Which way?” she snapped, as they neared the footpath.

“This is your idea, not mine.”

“If that’s the way you want to play…” Zoe abandoned all pretence and stalked off down the street, hoping he would actually follow her. She didn’t slow her pace until she spied the local rugby ground, surprisingly deserted. No one would hear them shouting at each other here.

She marched across the grass until she stood on the halfway line, where she stopped and swung around to face him, her hands fisted on her hips. “What the hell is it with you? I know you’re peeved we never told you before, but I had my reasons. Why are you being such a prig?”

“A prig?” His mouth drew into a thin-lipped smile.

“Yes.” Her voice rose. “A prize prig.” So much for me maintaining self control. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to contact you for the last fortnight to tell you I’m sorry. You’ve been too arrogant to even acknowledge me.”

She couldn’t believe her voice was trembling. “And now you’re doing your utmost to undermine”—she sucked in a deep breath and firmed—“my meeting everyone.”

Looking up into his thunderous expression, her flash of anger drained away leaving her with nothing but her pride to hide her inner turmoil. When even that deserted her, she whispered brokenly, “How could you do that, Connor? I’d never do anything to hurt you. How could you be so cruel?”

“Cruel?” He grabbed her arms, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. She shriveled at his tormented expression as he shook her. “You’d never hurt me?”

Her head bumped sharply forward and back as he shook her again.

“You liar.” His features were contorted with rage. “Do you think I didn’t see your face, that day on the beach, feel you shudder with disgust when you saw…touched my back?” He shook her again. “I’ve never let…no one’s ever seen…”

Zoe gasped at the pain in his voice and almost tripped when he threw her away from him and ran across the field. Without giving herself time to consider her actions, she streaked after him, catching up with him as he labored under the trees on the far side of the domain.

“Connor, you’re wrong.” She grabbed his arm and wouldn’t let go, despite his attempt to shake her off. “Stop and listen to me.” She planted herself in front of him and stayed there, dodging this way and that as he tried to push past her. “Please, Connor, listen.”

Her shoulders slumped as he stilled. Guessing he wouldn’t listen for long, she burst into speech. “Connor, your scars are horrific, terrible. I agree.”

His eyes flared with what looked like hatred.

“But only because of how you came by them. They don’t change the man you are. Seeing them did nothing but make me feel sad. They didn’t change how I feel about you.” Zoe swallowed hard; horrified she’d almost given herself away.

She hastily revised the thoughts running through her head that she couldn’t voice. “You’re a great bloke, Connor. I wish I was like you…so confident and sure of yourself and where you’re going.”

Her grip on his arms loosened and she couldn’t resist running her fingers up and down his forearms. “Is that why you didn’t call me? Because of your thoughts on my reaction to your scars?”

The tension drained from Connor’s body and his head jerked stiffly.

“What a dork.” She smiled through watery eyes.

“I guess that’s an improvement over being a prig.”

“A great improvement.” Zoe looked around. “Connor, could we just sit down here and talk for a little while? Please?”

His expression was wary but he nodded and sank onto the grass. They sat in silence for some time before Zoe managed to raise the subject which had to be discussed.

“Connor, that day, on the beach…” Heat rushed into her cheeks and she couldn’t meet his gaze.

Taking another deep breath she made herself look at him, praying he would believe her. “It wasn’t your scars that”—she covered her burning face with her hands—“made me… Connor, we’re cousins, blood relatives. It was wrong.”

Connor’s slumped body jerked, as if a puppet master had pulled some controlling cord.

His intense look unsettled her planned speech. She held his gaze, but the abrupt change in his mood baffled her. Unnerved by his odd look she shifted restlessly.

“How much research have you done into the family so far?”

“What?” Zoe stared, her mouth dropping open.

“Your family research, how much have you done?” His lips twitched. “It’s a simple enough question.”

“Not much, I guess. I’ve been trying to get as many hours of work as possible, and with Bess going off on holiday—I’ve concentrated on sorting out all the living relatives to start with—marriages, births, places of birth, that sort of thing.” She frowned, remembering his objection to genealogy.

“What about birth certificates? Don’t genealogists collect them?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, “but they’re expensive. There’s no real need to buy them unless you need the information off them. Bess gave me so many details, so I haven’t needed any. When we go further back to find our ancestors, we’re more likely to need to check certificates then.”

Distracted by the light in his eyes, and needing to clear up their misunderstanding, Zoe crossed her arms and demanded, “Why all these questions about research, Connor? You don’t even approve of genealogy.”

“I don’t. At least, I didn’t,” he hedged. “Maybe there’s something in it, after all.”

“I don’t understand you, Connor,” Zoe spluttered. “What has genealogy got to do with what we were talking about?”

He lay down on the grass, gazing up at the clouds tripping across the sky. “I just wondered how much you’d dug up about me.”

Had he guessed she’d avoided checking on any of his details? Bess had them all, anyway. There hadn’t been any need to check their authenticity. “I hadn’t got around to checking anything about you,” she snapped. “I was more interested in your father and uncles.”

Connor’s response, a quiet murmur, frustrated Zoe. What’s he on about? She glared as he clasped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. She waited for him to speak again.

And waited.

He can’t be asleep. Tempted to dig him in the ribs or smack him over the head, Zoe struggled to restrain herself. Dragging fingers through her hair she shot him an angry stare, which of course bounced right off him.

Some moments later, after she’d managed to calm her agitated breathing, Zoe welcomed the peaceful mood settling over her. Connor wasn’t angry with her.

She couldn’t fathom his sudden interest in their genealogy, but he wasn’t gnashing his teeth anymore. She sat watching him, resisting the urge to touch him.

Zoe lay on her side next to him, her head propped up by one arm. He’s such a good-looking bloke. He’d have no trouble finding someone to settle down with. And the sooner, the better.

She needed some help to exclude him from her thoughts. Knowing he was her cousin hadn’t stopped her falling for him. Perhaps his marrying someone else would force her to extinguish these cravings—for his company, his touch—from her mind.

She sure hoped so, ’cause feeling this way whenever he was close had to stop.

****

When Connor had calmed the excitement roaring around inside him, he opened his eyes, only to find Zoe slumped beside him fast asleep.

Able to look at her without constraint, Connor’s pulse quickened as his gaze roamed across her face, down her body and then back up. His hand reached out to touch the dark marks under her eyes, but he stopped just short of making contact.

He mustn’t jump to conclusions that might prove untrue, but when he’d accepted Zoe’s version of what happened on the beach that day, he’d also acknowledged the beginnings of a dream.

Connor sat up and encircled his knees with his arms.

Zoe has no idea I’m not Warren’s biological son. Hell, I’m not even Warren’s adopted son.

He plucked some grass and threw it up in the air to idly watch it return to earth. If she’d taken the time to check she’d have found his name change when he was eighteen, when he’d finally thwarted his father’s continuing refusal to allow Warren and Maria to adopt him.

Becoming Connor Matthews had been the most wonderful day of his life. He grinned as he remembered the celebration they’d had on the day he shed his past forever.

After being so enraged with Zoe’s interest of digging around in the past, now he wished she’d done just that. If she’d known we weren’t related, would that little beach scene have ended differently?

Connor’s body stirred into life as he imagined what could have happened. Would she have melted into my arms again when we entered the house? Would we have ripped off our wet clothes and sunk onto my bed?

He shook his head to dispel the image. Hell, if she wakes up now and catches sight of me.

He eased the tightness of his shorts over the bulge and forced himself to imagine how the Black Caps cricket team would do in their one-day match against Australia in a few days. Anything to allow his body to relax before she opened her eyes.

“How did you get those scars, Connor?”

Connor started. Zoe had made no sound warning him she was awake.

Her gaze was on him as he stared across the field, uncertain if he could respond.

“Was it a car accident or something?”

The gentleness in her soft voice warned Connor she suspected the truth. Well partly the truth. A lump rose in his throat. Dare I tell her?

His head shook as if by its own volition.

She sat up beside him, dribbling a light touch of fingers across his arm, but she asked no more.

“My father did it.” The words escaped through clenched teeth.

Zoe’s horrified “Warren?” swung Connor to look at her and see the blanching of her face.

Her distress forced words to pour out of his mouth. “Warren’s not my father. He found me hiding in the attic of his church when I was eight. I got to come live with them when I was ten.”

Her fingers tightened on his arm and shocked astonishment reflected in her widened eyes, but still she asked no questions.

“He’d have killed me—my biological father.” He studied his clenched fingers. “Warren saved my life.”

Connor tried unsuccessfully to clear the lump blocking his throat. A shaking hand touched the back of his shoulder. “That was the last. He threw a pot of boiling porridge over me.”

His voice choked again as memories he’d buried so deeply returned. “He told the cops it was an accident, that I’d run off and he couldn’t apply first aid. But Warren made them believe me. He wouldn’t let them send me back.”

Zoe’s arms were a sanctuary as they enclosed him.

Aware he was shaking, he tried to control himself, but her whispered murmurs and the strength of her embrace allowed some of the horror to slowly dissipate until he lay exhausted, his head pressed against her breast.

“Your mother?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe he killed her, and my little sister. I don’t know. One day they just weren’t there anymore.”

He lifted his head but she refused to loosen her arms. “Maybe she just left me with him when she took off. I never knew what happened to them.”

“Did you try to find them later, when you’d grown up?”

Connor wrenched away from her. “Why? If she was still alive, that meant she’d left me with him. She knew what he was like, I remember him slapping her about. If she was dead…” He shrugged. Finding his birth mother wasn’t something he’d allowed himself to think about much.

Maria was his mother; he hadn’t needed anyone else once he’d begun living with them.

“Oh, Connor, I’m so very sorry.” Connor’s throat clogged up again as tears filled her eyes. “And I’m sorry for all the times I made fun of you. It was unforgivable of me.”

They sat in silence for a long time, unified and yet separated by their deep thoughts.

Connor finally thrust the pain of those memories back where they belonged, behind the defensive wall he’d built years ago. He scrubbed his shaking hands across his face, hardly believing he’d told Zoe. Hell, he’d never told anyone.

The family knew, but only because they’d been privy to what happened during those last two years under his father’s care. He’d never told anyone anything about his childhood. But now he’d started, would he be able to avoid sharing all those memories? He hoped so, sharing would be too painful to endure.

“Let’s go back.” Standing up, he scrubbed a hand across his face again before holding out a hand to help Zoe to her feet.

“Are you okay?”

They ambled toward the footpath. Connor nodded, surprised how quickly the horror had disappeared and something else had replaced it. Warmth, that had nothing to do with the blazing sun and everything to do with the girl at his side, surrounded him. “I’m glad we’ve talked.”

Zoe’s face flushed as she met his eyes. “I’m sorry I never let Gran tell you the truth about me straight away.” A little grin came and went. “We gave you some hairy moments, didn’t we?”

Feeling his own lips twitch, Connor replied. “A few. I was sure you were setting her up to rip off. I told Dad and David I’d have you out in a week.”

Zoe bristled. “Did you indeed?” Her face creased in a huge smile. “So what was their reaction when you couldn’t get rid of me?”

“Oh, I didn’t let on, I kept telling them I had you all sussed.”

“And they believed you?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“Of course.”

Zoe’s burst of laughter couldn’t be ignored, and Connor chuckled.

Looking back, they’d had a couple of good tussles, and some good times too. He’d enjoyed talking to her. She could listen, didn’t want to be interrupting all the time, or expect to talk about herself. In fact, when he recalled their friendlier conversations, he couldn’t remember her sharing much of herself at all. Something he intended rectifying.

He stopped, staying her with his hand. “Can I ask you something now?”

Zoe’s smile faltered a little, and her gaze slid away from him, but then she lifted her chin and nodded stiffly.

Connor chewed over what to ask. He wanted to know about these men in her life, and figured she’d be honest. But she’d balked when he’d asked about Rangi before. How would she react to the mention of his name now? Connor didn’t want to destroy the relaxed camaraderie in place between them at the moment.

“Tell me about John.”

Connor frowned at her soft sigh of relief.

“John lives in Belmont. He’s a quadriplegic.” She was watching out the corner of her eye for his reaction as they recommenced their walk.

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile as he recalled her taunt about sleeping with him.

“I’ve worked with him for two years now, usually just twice a week, but the hours are flexible. I can take time off during exams, and take extra shifts other times.”

“Like over your semester breaks?”

Zoe nodded. “It’s great money for what I do. I still get about six hours sleep so I can keep my day job, too.”

“You need to turn him, what, once or twice during the night?”

“Once. I get his supper, chew the fat with him if he wants, and then help him to bed, and that’s it. The morning shift gets him up and dressed.”

“And you pretend you’re sleeping with him if anyone gets too nosey?”

Zoe smiled across at him. “Hmm,” she considered, “I think I’ve only done that once.” Her huge eyes tugged at his ability to keep his hands to himself. “After all, it is the truth.”

Connor couldn’t contain his chuckle. Glancing across at her, he was pleased to see a teasing light in her eyes.

Still keen to understand where this Rangi fitted into her life, Connor decided to wait for another time before bringing up his name. Instead they continued chatting about inconsequential things until they neared Warren’s gate, where Zoe suddenly stumbled, and almost fell.

“Are you okay?” His hand shot out to steady her. “Have you hurt your ankle, or something?” He peered down to diagnose what had happened.

Zoe shook her head and tugged away from his hand. There was a faint hint of hysteria in her voice when she spoke, her voice whispery thin. “You’re not Uncle Warren’s son?”

He shook his head, a little smile twitching at his lips.

“Not even his adopted son?”

“Not even his adopted son.”

“Oh.”

He loved the way she blushed.

“Yes. ‘Oh,’” Connor repeated before leaning over and kissing her firmly on the lips. He left her standing at the gate, a stupefied look on her face, as he strolled down the pathway, whistling.