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Authors: Serenity Woods

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BOOK: Mr. Insatiable
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Here, it wouldn’t work. They’d agreed that neither of them wanted to lose the other as a friend, and here it was too serious, surrounded by their friends and family and their real lives. But soon they’d be going away. To another country–another continent. A place renowned for keeping secrets, where they could remain unseen by those who knew them. Except for Charlie, and he didn’t count–Kit had known him a long time, and knew he could rely on his discretion.

Would she be up for it? Four days of unbridled passion before they came back and got on with their lives? He wasn’t sure. Clearly, she’d felt uncomfortable with him after the one time, and he didn’t want to ruin their friendship.

At that moment, however, she glanced across at him, her cheeks flushing prettily. She wanted him, and although she was trying to fight it, the signs were there. He was happy to provide some encouragement.

He stood and pushed his chair under the table, and winked at her as he made his way out of the shop. China was going to be very interesting.

 

 

 

Chapter

9

 

At five o’clock on Monday morning, Enya was packed and ready, waiting for John Fawkes to pick her up. John passed her house before Kit’s, so she knew she’d be the first to be collected.

She waited for him, nibbling her nails. She’d known John the same amount of time she’d known Kit, around eleven years, and she was closer to him and Cate than she was to any of her relatives, bar her parents. And yet, she remembered the look on his face when he’d caught them kissing and at breakfast the morning after the wedding. For some reason he disapproved of her, and she found that oddly hurtful. Of course, she had no intention of getting serious with Kit, but why would John be upset if she had?

John pulled up at the house she’d shared with Lisette until the wedding, and Enya carried her hand luggage and suitcase out to his car.

“I thought you were only going for four days,” he said, raising an eyebrow as she pulled it around to the trunk of the car.

“Ha ha. Give me a hand, will you?” Together they lifted the suitcase in, and then they walked around and got into the car.

“Must be funny without Lisette,” John said as they buckled in and he drove off.

“It is. Very quiet.”

“I suppose you’ll be looking for someone else to share the house with soon?”

Enya nodded. “Pru–one of the girls at
Tea & Biscuits
–is talking about moving so she might be interested.”

“That’s good, especially if it’s someone you know.”

“Yeah.” Enya looked out of the window, watching the shops and houses flash by as John headed out of Ponsonby toward the CBD. The Fawkes family had been incredibly supportive after her assault, and she knew John and Cate had provided much needed support to her parents as they tried to help her through it. They rarely talked about it nowadays, but John had always been as protective of her as he was of his own daughter, Sasha. At the time, Enya had rebelled against them placing too many restrictions on her freedom, but she’d always appreciated that they wanted to keep her safe.

John drove without speaking, and Enya looked across at him, unnerved by his unusually taciturn manner. It wasn’t as if the heavy traffic demanded his close attention, as the roads were fairly empty due to the early hour.

She cleared her throat. “Is everything all right, John? Only I get the feeling something’s bothering you.”

He glanced at her briefly before returning her gaze to the road. He didn’t immediately deny it and she knew she’d guessed correctly. When he eventually spoke, his voice was hesitant, as if he had something to say, but was reluctant to let the words past his lips. “I’m worried about Kit.”

“Oh?” So she was right. He
had
disapproved of the kiss. “Why so, exactly?”

He glanced at her again. “I think you know why.”

Her lips parted as she went to protest, but the words she’d been about to say faded away at his direct gaze. She closed her mouth and looked out of the window again. “I see.”

“Enya...” He sighed. “You’re a lovely girl, and ordinarily I’d have absolutely no qualms if Kit became interested in a relationship with you.”

“But you want me to keep away from him,” she said flatly. “Because I’m damaged goods.”

He looked at her sharply before exclaiming, “Enya.” A guilty look flashed over his face, although she wasn’t sure why.

“What? Kit didn’t like me saying it either, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

He frowned, pulling up at a set of traffic lights, turning to face her. “Sweetheart, you’re a beautiful, spirited, courageous, wonderful young woman, and Kit could do a lot worse than fall for someone like you.” He gave a her a fond, wry smile. “In fact, I’ve been waiting for it to happen. It was only a matter of time.”

She stared at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Cate and I thought something would happen between the two of you eventually. He’s crazy about you, and I think you’re pretty fond of him, too.”

Enya couldn’t form a thought–she could only blink at him stupidly.

John looked up at the lights, saw them change, and pulled away. “Kit’s loved you since the moment he met you. He’s hidden it behind familial affection, but it’s always been more than that.”

Her heart pounded. John didn’t know what he was talking about. Kit didn’t love her–at least not in the way a man loves a woman. He loved her like a sister, but that was all it was.

Wasn’t it?

John headed the car under the Auckland-Hamilton motorway and along Victoria Street West. He pulled up at another set of lights and turned to her again. “But the problem is that Kit wants a family.”

Enya’s shoulders sagged like a balloon that had been half-blown up and then popped suddenly with a pin.

“Being adopted, he wants kids of his own, love, and I want him to have that blood tie, that security.”

Her eyes met his. “You know, don’t you?” she whispered. “You know I can’t have children.”

He nodded again. “I’m so sorry, love. I know this sounds cruel, and I so want you to meet someone and be happy, but I have to be honest and say that I want Kit to have everything we couldn’t give him. I want him to watch his wife get pregnant, and to be at her side when she gives birth. You’ve got to understand, love, I’ve been there–I’ve had to go through it all, watching Cate get so upset because she couldn’t have children. And I don’t want Kit to have to go through it too.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she bit her lip hard and blinked them back. She wasn’t going to let John Fawkes see her cry. “I understand.”

He studied her. His eyes were compassionate, but hard, and she suddenly saw him in his role as lawyer, determined and uncompromising, willing to do anything to get what he wanted. It was the first time she’d ever thought about the fact that he wasn’t Kit’s real father, but at that moment, she couldn’t see a bit of him in his adopted son. Kit would never be this cruel, this pitiless. “I hope you understand,” he said, his eyes as cold as the slate-grey winter’s sky.

Ordinarily, if someone else had given her such an instruction, she would have told them in no uncertain terms where to put it. Half of her burned with indignation at his casual disregard of her feelings. His words were incredibly cruel, clawing across her sensitive heart like barbed wire.

The only thing that stopped her speaking out was she knew he was right. Kit
did
deserve to have a real family. Hadn’t he told her himself that he wanted one? John was trying to protect him, and she couldn’t blame him for that. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to be adopted, and not have the security of knowing where you came from or who your parents were. Kit wouldn’t want his children to go through the same thing. John was right, even if it did sting.

“Of course.” She forced herself to smile. “You only want the best for your son. And so do I. I have no intention of taking our relationship further. Don’t worry, John. I won’t lead him on.”

The lights changed, and he pulled away. The flinty look faded from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Enya. I must sound cruel to you.”

“Not at all. I hope my father would be as defensive of me. That’s what parents are for.”

He seemed relieved that she’d understood. “I hope the two of you have a nice time in Beijing, anyway.”

“Yes, it should be good fun. I’m looking forward to it.”

He nodded.

They didn’t talk again until they reached Kit’s house.

Over a year before, while he was still with Beatrix, Kit had bought himself a house in Newmarket. It was a pleasant home, with three decent-sized bedrooms and a living room overlooking a beautiful garden full of jacaranda and pohutukawa trees. Enya had puzzled over why he hadn’t asked Beatrix to move in with him at the time, and she wondered now whether things had already been going wrong between the two of them. It would make a lovely family home, and she could almost see it full of three or four children, possibly with a dog causing added chaos, Kit holding a toddler in one arm as he played soccer with another. The thought filled her with sadness, and as John pulled up, she took a shaky breath to gather herself before she got out of the car.

Kit came out carrying a hold-all and his laptop case, looking bright and breezy in a sky-blue shirt under a black V-neck sweater and faded jeans.

“Morena,” he said to his father, the Māori word for good morning. He placed his luggage in the trunk of
the car and held Enya’s upper arm as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hey you, all ready?”

Enya forced away the warm glow that enveloped her as he approached. He kissed her on the cheek, and she stiffened, conscious of John’s eyes on them. “Yep, ready to go.” She turned away from his hand, opening the passenger door and sliding in.

He hesitated, but his father was already walking around the car, so he got into the front seat and buckled himself in, and John started the engine and pulled away.

“Bit of an early start,” Kit said cheerfully. “Can’t remember the last time I got up before eight.” Enya and John both mumbled their agreement, and Kit turned in the seat, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Enya said, smiling at him. “I’m still half asleep. What time’s the flight again?”

“Seven.” Kit still looked suspicious, but he didn’t press it, although he gave his father a frown. But John changed the subject, asking what their itinerary was, and they spent the fifteen or so minutes’ drive to the airport talking about what Charlie had planned for them, as well as the visit to the fireworks factory.

At the airport, John helped them out with their luggage and shook hands with his son.

“Stay safe,” he commanded. Then he came over to Enya. She had to force herself not to step back as he kissed her on the cheek, resentment still burning inside her, even though she understood why he’d said what he said.

“I’ll be back to pick you up on Friday night at eleven,” he told them, and got back in the car and drove away. Enya watched him go, relieved to be alone with Kit at last.

“Okay,” he said, shouldering his laptop case and picking up his bag. “Out with it. What’s he said?”

“John? Nothing.” She feigned a look of surprise. “Which gate are we at?”

“Dunno yet, haven’t checked the ticket. Come on, O’Donnell, I know you better than that. You two have had an argument, haven’t you?”

“God, no.” And that was the truth. She hadn’t argued back. “Come on–we might as well get checked in.”

“Celt.” He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Talk to me.”

She shook his hand off. “Why do you think you need to know everything that’s going on in my head? We had sex, Kit. Not a mind-meld.”

Hurt flickered in his eyes and his hand dropped away. Guilt flooded through her. She’d upset him, nice, dependable Kit, who was so sincere and protective of her. Emotion rushed through her, and she slid her arms around him, relieved when he dropped his case and wrapped his tightly around her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s all right.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re right. You don’t have to tell me everything that’s going on in your life.”

“I do usually, Kit. Honest. I like being able to talk to you. We talk about things I can’t talk to anyone else about.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she bit her lip again to stop them falling.

“Hey, come on.” He rubbed her back. “We’re going on holiday! It’s going to be warm and fun, we’re going sightseeing, we’re going to eat Chinese food and act like tourists, and screw everything else.” He kissed her hair again. “We’re best friends, right? BFF?”

She laughed, in spite of herself. “Yeah.”

“Well, then. Nothing else matters, honey.”

She gave herself a few more seconds to hug him, comforted by the strength of his arms and the thud of his heart beneath her ear. “Kit?”

“Mm?”

“Did you sniff my hair when you kissed me?”

He chuckled. “Might have. I can’t help it–it smells nice.”

She pulled back, and smiled wryly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you. Come on then. Let’s get checked in.”

* * * *

BOOK: Mr. Insatiable
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