Once a Rebel... Page 10

  She’d been happily engaged in a long conversation with their trusty Captain about piracy on the high seas—though, given a chance and despite his age, he’d bet his life that the charming Captain Konstantinos would have proven just as untrustworthy with his passenger—and he’d had the double assault of endless monologue on one side and the Shirley Marr show on the other. Complete with seamen who didn’t know he understood some Greek discussing with much hilarity the comparative merits of tanned blondes versus sultry brunettes.

  The brunettes won.

  It wasn’t fair to blame Caryn for not being as interesting as the only other woman in the room. The two were completely different people. Night and day. Except he’d spent his entire life indulging in bright, obsequious day when deep down inside he was all about the cool, mysterious night. The cover of night disguised so many more faults.

  Shannon. Courtney. Louisa. Dominique.

  He had as many names as Shirley could possibly want to hear. It wasn’t a struggle with recall that had kept him silent; it was the implication of her words. That he should have started a life with one of them by now. That he was late to some kind of party and that it was his personal failing.

  Did she not see the irony?

  Shirley had more shields around herself than any man could possibly negotiate. She’d be single and stoic until her last breath, despite her great faith in the random lightning-bolt strike of love.

  Who was she to judge his choices?

  He reached into his room and grabbed his coat, then headed for the wind storm outside. It was too early to sleep, even if he believed he could. But there was a lot of unexplored ship out there yet.

  And a lot of disquiet to burn off.

  He wandered the entire circumference of the freighter, staring out through the occasional slot in the bulky siding into the vast nothing of the ocean and up into the vast everything of space. So far from the visual pollution of land, and despite the floodlights at the front of the ship and the glow of the full moon, the stars seemed to blanket the dark sky. Together they were more than ample to see by.

  But one circumference was complete and he wasn’t yet ready to return to the solitude of his cabin, which was insane because the past two years had been all about solitude. He turned into the heart of the sea-containers massed in the middle of the vessel.

  He heard Twuwu’s contented rumination—a kind of chew and snort combo—before he turned the corner into her clearing. A bit of time in the company of a female with no expectations, no opinions and no judgements to cast. That was what he needed.

  ‘Hayden?’

  Hell. Awful timing on his part.

  ‘Out for a walk?’ Caryn asked. The caution in her voice was immediately obvious and his mind went straight to Shirley’s defence of the woman. He sighed.

  ‘Caryn, I think I owe you an apology …’

  They talked for quite some time as Caryn finished her checks on Twuwu and settled her for the night. She accepted his fumbled explanation and his assurances of regret for his hasty departure earlier in the evening.

  ‘Is it Shirley?’ she asked, wiping her hands on her jeans.

  His denial was instant. Too fast. Like his pulse at the mere suggestion of something more going on with him and Shirley. ‘It’s such a short trip, Caryn …’

  She called him on that deflection. ‘You don’t really strike me as a man who would have a problem with something short-term.’

  ‘I’m not.’ At least he wasn’t. That thought got him frowning.

  ‘I thought we had a spark.’

  And a spark might once have been enough. More than enough. The truth—and the outrage of what it signified—burned. ‘It’s me.’

  She stared at him long and hard. But what could she say, really? Other than the obvious. ‘Fair enough. Your loss.’

  Maybe so. And given how tightly wound he’d been after storming from Shirley’s room, definitely so. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you back.’

  ‘Oh, God, chivalry? You really aren’t interested.’ She fell in beside him.

  It felt good to laugh. And it felt strangely pleasing to have treated this woman with respect. This woman who loved her family and her homeland and was happy to talk to a stranger for hours about them.

  ‘Can I ask you something, Caryn?’

  ‘Shoot.’

  ‘Is your wildlife park anywhere near Queenstown?’

  ‘About four hundred kilometres away.’

  Oh. It was worth a shot.

  She took pity on him. ‘But we go right through Queenstown on the way.’

  He lifted his head. ‘Will you need any help with Twuwu on the journey?’

  She laughed. ‘No. There’ll be a whole transport team meeting us at Invercargill. Why? You need a lift?’

  ‘It’s a long story, but yeah.’

  ‘Let’s see what happens. There’re always multiple vehicles.’

  He held the door of the accommodation deck for her and dropped his voice. ‘Thanks. We’ll even ride in with Twuwu if we need to.’

  ‘Are you kidding? No one gets to do that.’ She stopped a few doors down from Shirley’s room. ‘This is me.’

  He shoved his hands into his pockets, carefully away from her. He wasn’t used to negotiating his way out of a woman’s room. ‘I appreciate your understanding, Caryn,’ he whispered. ‘Considering.’

  She laughed in the silence and unlocked her door. ‘I think I understand a lot better than you do.’

  ‘See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yep. Bright and early.’ She stepped into her room.

  ‘’Night.’

  Her door clicked shut. Hayden leaned on the corridor wall and looked diagonally down the hall at Shirley’s door. Would she have given him points for that? For extricating himself with care and leaving Caryn’s pride intact?

  He gave himself a few. And that was rare.

  He pushed off the wall and his expensive shoes took him silently down the hall. He opened his door gingerly to avoid waking Shirley. It closed just as quietly.

  The entire time he’d paced the ship’s deck he’d been working himself up to the decision that he would sleep with Caryn just to show Shirley he didn’t care what she thought. To do something with the useless tension resonating through his body and maybe to prove himself as heartless and soulless as she clearly believed. If he was going to burn, it might as well be justified.

  Yet here he was, heading to bed solo.

  So, all those points he gave himself for treating Caryn with compassion …?

  He ripped them off again for being so damn weak.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘SO, LOOKS like we’re giving you a lift when we head north.’ Caryn looked up as Shirley slid into a seat across from her.

  ‘Sorry?’

  After a night with no sleep in that tiny dark cabin, she’d been desperate to get out of the confined space that had started to feel like a coffin. Hence her early breakfast. She thought she might have seen some of the crew but she hadn’t expected either Caryn or Hayden. Not at this hour. Not after what she’d heard in the hall.

  A deep, familiar masculine murmur. A throaty, carefully muted feminine chuckle.

  The stone in her stomach settled in further. What had she expected? It wasn’t reasonable to tell a man he was worthless and then be shocked when he went out to find someone to prove otherwise.

  ‘When we hit Invercargill,’ Caryn clarified. ‘Our convoy will go right past Queenstown.’

  A ride. She tried to muster up some enthusiasm. ‘Oh, great. Thank you.’

  ‘You don’t look like backpackers,’ she hinted.

  So Hayden hadn’t told her why they were heading for New Zealand. Shirley didn’t know whether to be grateful for his discretion or appalled at his form. He still hadn’t made actual conversation with her?

  What a prince.

  A confused jumble of anger and hurt curdled her hastily downed cup of tea. ‘We’re kind of on a … challenge.’

  ‘You agains
t him?’

  Most of the time. ‘No. Together.’

  ‘Shame. I could have arranged to leave him behind. We girls have got to stick together.’

  Shirley lifted her heavy head. The hint of solidarity confused her. ‘He’d only get his wallet out and hire a chopper and be standing there, smug, when we arrived.’

  Caryn’s eyes grew keen. ‘He’s loaded then?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  She grunted and went back to her eggs. ‘Well, that figures.’

  ‘Ladies …’

  The man of the moment walked through the door and slid into a seat next to Shirley. Caryn said a cheerful good morning through a mouthful of eggs and Shirley gave a tight smile as the ship’s cook came out with two more plates of breakfast and placed them next to each other on her side of the table.

  ‘How did you sleep?’ Caryn asked casually.

  Shirley reached for the salt and pepper, desperate to be doing something as this conversation happened around her. She concentrated on breathing.

  ‘Actually, like a log,’ Hayden said. ‘Must be the sea air.’

  ‘Or the late night exercise,’ the blonde offered.

  Shirley’s hand closed hard around the salt shaker. Any harder and it might shatter. ‘I’m surprised to see either of you up this early,’ she hedged.

  ‘Twuwu has to have checks every four hours overnight,’ Caryn said. ‘Ten, two and six. So here I am.’

  ‘You went out again after I left you?’

  ‘The line of duty,’ Caryn said, wiping her hands and mouth on her napkin. ‘I can sleep all I want when I get home.’ She stood. ‘That said, I’m going to head back down to her now for her six o’clock check. Remember to come on down and say hi. She’s bored already.’

  ‘I know the feeling,’ Hayden grunted.

  Was that why he’d pursued Caryn—ennui?

  And, ultimately, what did it matter why he’d done it?

  You didn’t want him, Shirley …

  Shirley smiled as Caryn departed, then let it fall from her lips. She focused on pushing her scrambled eggs around the plate.

  ‘You working on a masterpiece, there, Picasso?’

  She lifted her eyes to Hayden’s. They were lighter, by far, than they had been when she’d last seen him. Maybe his good mood was symptomatic. Unfortunately for him, she’d had no sleep and no … stress relief to enhance her mood. She hit him with full-frontal sarcasm.

  ‘Does arrogance come naturally to you, Hayden, or do you have to work at it?’

  His frown doubled. ‘Shirley …?’

  ‘Late night exercise. Caryn.’

  Duh!

  Right at the back of his deep blue eyes a little light bulb illuminated. His answer was measured. ‘I walked around the deck and I ran into Caryn on her way back from checking on Twuwu.’

  ‘Unplanned, of course.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because you know nothing about planning seductions.’

  Ha. Hoist with his own petard. And other nautical metaphors.

  ‘There was no seduction.’

  ‘I guess there wouldn’t need to be if she was willing enough.’

  ‘There was no sex.’

  She pushed her plate away. ‘Spare me the details, Hayden. I don’t know why I’m so surprised.’

  ‘Given the kind of man I am, you mean?’

  She rounded on him, guilty heat surging forth. ‘Well, was I wrong?’

  ‘Actually, yes, you were. I have nothing to apologise for. And no requirement to, come to think of it. I’m a free agent.’

  ‘So all those murmurings I heard last night were just hallway chit-chat, were they?’

  ‘I have no idea what you heard, but yeah, they would have been.’

  A strange kind of earnestness tinged his expression. She frowned. ‘You didn’t sleep with Caryn?’

  ‘I did not.’

  The overhead radio crackled out music but the silence from the kitchen suggested the cook had tiptoed out or was listening in avidly to the raised voices in the mess room. Probably the latter. Maybe he had more English than he let on.

  ‘Right. Okay then.’

  Awkward …

  His lips twisted but she couldn’t honestly call it a smile. ‘Apology accepted.’ His voice lowered dangerously. ‘Now you can tell me something, Shirley … Exactly what business is it of yours what I do? Or with whom?’

  She pressed her lips together. ‘I … It’s not.’

  ‘Insufficient.’

  Of course he wasn’t going to let her just walk away from having made a colossal ass of herself. He was Hayden. She hissed out a breath. ‘You’d just finished telling me how she’d yammered at you all night. So the thought that you’d go straight to her from …’ She ran flat out of steam. And courage.

  His eyes grew keen. ‘Straight to her from you?’

  She sat up straighter. ‘Straight to her from our argument.’

  ‘No. From you. That’s what’s bothering you.’

  All right, fine. ‘You kissed me half to death yesterday and just hours later you were kissing her.’

  ‘Only I wasn’t.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’ She took a breath. ‘It … disappointed me.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m sure I disappoint you daily. That’s nothing new.’

  She didn’t answer.

  ‘I have no obligation to you, Shirley. We’re friends.’ He glanced away. ‘If that.’

  Ouch. That hurt, unexpectedly. ‘We’re friends,’ she confirmed.

  ‘Then how have I broken faith with you?’

  ‘I just …’ What? She had no idea why she had such massive expectations of him. She sank back in her chair. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know how. I’m sorry.’

  The silence in the kitchen slowly returned to the sounds of cooking. Their conversation had apparently become less riveting. Hayden’s eyes went from thoughtful to slightly abashed.

  ‘You don’t need to beg my forgiveness any more than I need to explain myself to you.’

  Friends apologised to friends. Friends explained things to friends.

  Not owing him an explanation was a careful way of double reinforcing the fact that they barely even made friend status. As if she’d been clinging to some kind of illusion.

  Maybe she had.

  Silence resumed.

  ‘How did you go for Internet signal yesterday?’ he asked, finally breaking it.

  ‘Good. The ship has a router on the accommodation deck. The Wi-Fi is good.’

  ‘Great.’

  Awesome. Talking about Internet signal strength. Only marginally less pathetic than talking about the weather.

  ‘Does that mean you’re going to be working today?’ she checked.

  ‘I think I might. Up here in the recreation area. See what I can get done.’

  Was she surprised he was in no hurry to hang out with her? Or even near her. ‘Okay. Good luck with that.’ She stood. ‘I’m going to head off for a shower.’

  ‘Catch you later, then.’

  And less enthusiastic words had never been spoken. She noticed the careful way he studied the watery horizon.

  Lord.

  It was going to be a long four days.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE CONVOY pulled away and rumbled off into the distance, leaving Hayden and Shirley standing on the edge of the Gibbston Highway, daypacks in their hands. Twuwu’s massive head poking out the back of the trailer grew smaller and smaller in the distance until she pulled it back inside her crate.

  Shirley did a slow three-sixty, taking in the dramatic view around them. This part of New Zealand’s South Island was a topographer’s delight, all ancient ranges and green river valleys with turquoise water lying far below. On the horizon, snow-capped mountain peaks were protected by a layer of white cloud.

  ‘So, here we are,’ she breathed.

  ‘They’re expecting us?’

  ‘They know we’re coming today, just not when.’

>   And thanks to Caryn and Twuwu being the first piece of freight off the Paxos, they were hours ahead of what she’d forecast.

  They started walking towards a distant car park to check in. Beyond that was an old steel and stone suspension bridge that forded the river rushing by fifty metres below. And dotted all over that were people. Everywhere. Even though it wasn’t yet mid-morning.

  A long scream punctuated the serenity like the cry of an eagle soaring overhead, chased, moments later, by cheers and whistles.

  She sucked in a breath.

  Hayden glanced at her. ‘Nervous?’

  Until that moment, she hadn’t been. She’d been way too busy being distracted by Hayden’s emotional withdrawal. But given how her body reacted to simply walking up the Paxos’s gangplank, she suddenly doubted whether she’d be able to step out into the nothingness of open space at all.

  Cord or no cord.

  Fear was not a good way to get something like a bucket list achieved. She blew the breath out carefully. ‘I guess we’ll find out.’

  The organisers slotted them in after the present batch of jumpers had gone through. They waited for the first hour on the observation deck, which hung out high above the gorge, amongst the friends and families of those taking the leap. As the morning wore on, the deck got more and more slippery as those taking the plunge climbed back up the side of the valley, wet, and then joined the spectators to vicariously relive their experience.

  ‘That’s a good sign,’ Hayden murmured close to her ear. ‘If it was traumatic I doubt people would stick around to watch others going through it.’

  Trauma. Something else she hadn’t thought about. She’d been so focused on how she was going to get out there at all she hadn’t really thought about whether or not she’d ever recover from it.

  The growing spectator crowd pressed them closer together and Hayden slid an arm around behind her to keep the soggiest of them back. Soon enough they were funnelled out of the crowded area to the two ornate stone towers that anchored the bridge to the land at both ends. A production line of safety instructions and advices began there and Shirley busied herself with taking them very seriously and making an endless stream of decisions.