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‘And that’s a bad thing?’ She glared at him.
‘It is when it stops you from achieving your own dreams.’
‘Like I said, people come first for me, Lorenzo. Always.’
‘Aren’t you a person? Isn’t what you want just as valid as what others want? Surely if you explained how busy you were, she’d find someone else to do whatever it is. A paid assistant, perhaps?’
She stiffened—but not because of the little jibe.
His eyes narrowed. ‘She doesn’t know, does she?’ With scary precision he zoomed in on the problem.
No, and Sophy didn’t want her to—didn’t want any of them to. ‘The sooner I go and do this, the sooner I can get back upstairs.’
‘But you were out yesterday afternoon too. For three hours.’
What was he, her timesheet? She wasn’t accountable to him. Not on this.
‘You can’t let this opportunity go, Sophy. Your work is too good.’
That made her even more tense—she felt pressure enough without him making sweet comments like that. ‘I really have to go, Lorenzo.’ She looked past him down the stairs. ‘And it really isn’t any of your business.’ He wouldn’t open up to her at all, so why should he have the right to comment on her life?
‘Sophy,’ he said quietly, leaning forward and branding her lips with the heat of his. ‘At least be quick.’
Chapter Eight (#u93bc5a2c-1219-52f8-9ffc-86403a564ce3)
‘SOPHY, can you come with me, please?’ Lorenzo met her as she walked into the building.
She glanced at Kat behind the reception desk, hoping the girl hadn’t picked up on the chill in his words. ‘Of course.’
Was he mad with her? She hadn’t returned to the warehouse yesterday—had got held up completely until the early evening. Her sister had come round and it had turned into a whole family gathering. She’d made excuses and gone after a while—but she needn’t have hurried. Lorenzo hadn’t come round, had left no message on her phone. It was the first night they hadn’t had sex all week. And stupidly she’d had less sleep than ever. So she really wasn’t in the mood to have a hard time from him.
He led her out the back and gestured for her to get into his car.
‘Where are we going?’ She fixed her seat belt—he already had the engine running.
‘You’ll see.’ He fiddled with the stereo and put the music up loud. What, he didn’t want conversation?
‘I had a nice night, thanks.’ She chit chatted really loudly just to annoy him. He didn’t want to talk personal? Tough. ‘Big dinner with my parents and Victoria and Ted. It’s my niece’s birthday this weekend so we were celebrating early. Rosanna sent a text. She’s in Sydney for a few days.’
He gave her a sideways look but said nothing.
Yeah, she loved having conversations by herself. So she gave up. They drove through half of Auckland and she relaxed into the comfortable seat. Suddenly she sat up. ‘Lorenzo, this is the airport.’
‘And we’re right on time.’
On time for what? ‘Where are we going?’
‘Have you ever gotten on a plane and not known the destination?’
She shook her head.
‘Now’s your chance.’
‘Lorenzo—’
‘Have you ever taken a risk? Gone with an impulse?’
‘Maybe,’ she said cautiously. Like the time she’d come on to him with the basketball.
He parked the car, crossed his arms and called her on it. ‘What are you going to do, Sophy? Play it safe or walk on the wild side? Come on an adventure.’
‘How wild an adventure?’
‘Totally legal.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Honestly, don’t make a big deal about it, you’ll end up disappointed.’
She didn’t think so. She didn’t think she’d ever be disappointed when he was offering adventure.
He got out of the car. ‘Are you coming or what?’
As if she could say no. He loaded a surprisingly heavy-looking suitcase onto a trolley and headed to the checkin. She wasn’t worried. It wasn’t as if they were going to go overseas—he didn’t have her passport, this was the domestic terminal.
‘We’re flying back tonight, right?’ She’d better check on that though.
‘No.’
‘Then when?’
‘Sunday.’
Sunday? ‘Lorenzo, I can’t. I promised my brother I’d organise the cupcakes for my niece’s party.’
‘Were you going to bake them?’
‘They’re not that hard.’ She nibbled her lower lip. ‘Oh, I can’t, Lorenzo. I can’t let him down. I can’t let her down.’ But she was disappointed for herself more than anything.
‘Do you have to be at the party?’
‘No. It’s for her little friends. I was just making the cakes. She likes the icing I do.’
‘Someone else can do icing.’
Who? Baking wasn’t something anyone else in her family did.
‘Phone a bakery and get them to deliver,’ Lorenzo said, as if he were instructing a small child. He was right, of course. It would be so easy.
‘It’s short notice.’
‘Just offer to pay double and they’ll do it.’
She laughed. ‘Is that how you get what you want? Offer to pay?’
‘No. That wouldn’t work with you. I have to come up with other alternatives.’ He grinned. ‘Like abduction.’
She chomped on her lip some more. So tempted.
‘Phone up and get it done.’ He gave her a sideways look. ‘What else did you have scheduled for the weekend?’
‘A few things.’ Sophy dug out her phone and her diary. ‘What am I going to tell them?’
‘The truth.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘You don’t want to say you’re running off for a dirty long weekend?’
Oh, she couldn’t hesitate now. ‘We’re a secret, remember?’
She got on and made the calls. It took the whole twenty minutes they had left on the ground to rearrange everything she’d agreed to do in the weekend.
She put the phone away but her practical-oriented brain presented her with the next set of problems.
He lifted her face to his. ‘What’s wrong now?’
‘I don’t have any clothes with me.’
‘You don’t need any.’
‘Oh, we’re going to a naturist colony? Awesome.’ She aimed for sarcastic but was burning inside with the naughty promise of his words. ‘They don’t mind furry teeth either?’
He laughed. ‘There are shops where we’re going. We can get you a toothbrush, okay?’
‘Fabulous.’
The flight was only just over an hour. Christchurch. She knew the destination now, of course—the signs and the pilot’s message had given that one away. She was fine with it. Christchurch was a nice city and she hadn’t been there in ages.
But when they got into the rental car he headed straight onto the bypass and the motorway north.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I told you, you’ll see.’
After forty minutes or so she thought she had it figured. The rows and rows of vines in the fields gave it away. Waipara—part of the wine region.
‘We’re staying on a vineyard?’
‘No.’ He kept driving.
It was another hour, passing alongside a river and the weird shaped cabbage trees that looked like something Dr Seuss would have drawn. A few sheep were scattered in the fields. And then they got there—to Hanmer Springs, an Alpine spa town in the heart of a geo-thermal area. He slowed down as they drove through the main street of the village.
‘Look, swimsuit shop on the right,’ he pointed out. ‘Leopard print number in the window gets my vote.’
Oh, please.
‘Superette on the left for toothpaste and other essentials.’ He pointed with his hand. ‘Bakery for the best pies in the country.’
She chuckled. ‘Everything one could possibly need.’
‘That’s right. Now I’m going back to Waipara for some meetings.’ Halfway up the hill he pulled up in front of a house. ‘You’re staying here.’
She got out of the car. He was leaving her? She walked up the path slowly, not caring enough to appreciate the pretty wooden chalet he’d just unlocked. When was she getting the ‘dirt’ in the weekend? Inside he’d opened the big suitcase. Carefully packed inside was all her gear—all her tools, all her unfinished work. She stared at it, then at him.
‘I’m not letting you throw away this opportunity, Sophy,’ he said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘Not even for hot sex with me.’
‘Lorenzo—’
‘Give me your phone.’ He held out his hand.
She pulled it from her purse and gave it to him.
He switched it off and put it in his pocket. ‘You have no excuses now. You have to finish them.’ His expression softened. ‘I’ve booked you into the spa at four p.m. for a massage and whatever other treatments you feel like.’
‘Really?’ Her spirits lifted a fraction.
‘Uh-huh.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘But you have to do nothing, and I mean nothing, but work until then—deal?’
‘Okay.’
‘And you’ll have to walk down to the spa because I’m taking the car.’
‘That’s okay.’ She nodded again. ‘Thanks.’
But she was disappointed. She ached for him. And he’d played on that—used it to set her up. She’d cleared her weekend to be with him, but now she had nothing to do but finish her pieces for the show.
She supposed she’d thank him one day.
He kissed her, drew away way too soon. But at least he groaned as he did. He put his hands behind his back. ‘Nothing but work. Nothing.’
She managed a laugh and watched him go. As he got to the car she couldn’t stop herself calling after him through the open door. ‘You’ll be back later?’
‘Count on it.’
She turned back inside and looked at her stuff. She had all afternoon. All day Saturday and Sunday too. With no phone, no outside contact—no one calling. Suddenly she felt it—liberation. And she did as he’d bid. It only took twenty minutes to set herself up and then she worked. In the silence, alone, she got into the zone. Her enthusiasm for it returned, as did her confidence. She studied her options, assessing the work she had completed and her pages of notes for other styles. She deliberated carefully before making a decision. She wanted her work to be the-matically linked, but for each piece to stand uniquely, to showcase a broad range.
There was a harsh ringing. She literally jumped three feet in the air. Spun round, looking for the source of the noise. It was the landline of the holiday home. ‘Hello?’
‘You need to go now or you’ll miss your appointment.’
‘Oh.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Is it that time already?’
