Just This Once (8 page)

He laughed. “I haven’t even mentioned League, have I. Never
mind. Can’t have too much rugby. Not in En Zed. It’s our national sport. Maybe
our national religion. They play both League and Union in Aussie, too, though. Of
course, we think we play the real rugby—Union. League players will tell you
their version is better, faster. They’ll try to tell you it’s tougher, too. But
we may have a wee bit to say about that.”

“I guess I’ll have to watch some games and judge for
myself,” she decided. “I have a feeling, though, that it’s all going to seem
tough to me. It’s about tackling, right? And being in that big ball of people,
pushing on each other?”

“Yeh,” he responded, hugely amused. “You could say it’s
about tackling. The ‘big ball’ is the scrum—the way we restart play. Each team
tries to move the other backward, while the team in possession tosses the ball
in. It’s a bit of a physical contest. There are heaps of rules about the scrum,
but that’s as much as you’ll want to know. Are you keen on sport?”

“Not exactly. I told you I used to watch football with my
father sometimes. But I never knew much about it. I watched because he liked to,
and I liked to be with him. But I felt sorry for the losers. They always looked
so sad.”

“You’re right about that. Nobody likes to lose. That’s what
makes you bust a gut, though, to keep it from happening. And not to let your
mates down, of course.”

“I suppose it’s not that different from anything else,” she
mused. “Just more straightforward. There are lots of times when I don’t feel
like making the extra effort at work. I guess I go ahead because I don’t want
to fall down on the job. Or to let people down. If I don’t do it, somebody else
will just have to pick up the slack.”

 He nodded. “Not so different.”

“Of course,” she added, “Nobody’s trying to beat me up.
There is that. I think I’d give up pretty fast if someone came flying out of
the copy room and tackled me while I was trying to finish my budget.”

“Could be. We’ll hope you’re not put to the test. Tell me
about what you do, then.”

“I’m not sure that’s much more interesting than the rules of
the scrum. But I work for a women’s fitness company. We sell workout clothing—running,
swimming, bicycling. Plus general workout gear, and casual clothes for active women.
Everything I’m wearing today came from our stock.”

“Seems like a good fit for you. You’re quite keen. I’ve seen
that. Like I said, I’ve never taken a woman tramping before.”

“And here we are,” he announced as they pulled into the
almost-deserted parking area near a marked trailhead. “The Pinnacles. It’s
quite a walk. We don’t have to do the last bit, if you’d rather not.”

“Sounds ominous. I’ll see how it goes. If I’m too slow for
you, you can always go on ahead of me and wait.”

He smiled and helped her out of the truck. “That
would
be
heaps of fun, but I already did my training this morning. Reckon I’ll stick
with you.”

As they started up the wooded track, lush with ferns and
palms, Hannah thought about what he had said. “But you picked me up at eight
today. What kind of workout did you do before that? Didn’t you say you were on
vacation?”

“Can’t afford to get soft. Doesn’t matter what time of year
it is, have to keep fit. Nothing too much, though. Just running, this morning.”

“I can see there’s a real danger of your getting soft,” she
said dryly. “You’d better work on that.” Walking behind him on the narrow
track, she couldn’t see anything wrong with his condition. Nothing at all, she
decided, eyeing his impossibly broad shoulders and powerful thighs
appreciatively.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, as he waited for her to come
up next to him.

She gave a start and blushed. “Yes! It’s beautiful. Thanks.”

He looked at her curiously, and slowly smiled. “Good. Let’s
keep on, then.”

Good to know, he told himself. She was worth the wait, he
was beginning to be sure of it. And unless he missed his guess, the wait was
going to be over soon. Which was a good thing. Anticipation was one thing, and
he was enjoying it—to a point. But he was more than ready to move on. 

She looked so bloody cute in her hiking shorts and boots,
with a cap perched on her blonde head. He enjoyed talking to her, too. Being
with her. She was interested in everything, full of enjoyment for every new
experience. He liked her honesty and her teasing sense of humor. But most of
all, he liked her body. And he wanted to see it all. In all sorts of ways. For
a long, long time.

“Tell me more about what you do,” he said, after they had
negotiated a narrow swing bridge and were headed up the track again, the river
running beside them, vines twining among trees above the moss-covered banks.
“At that fitness company of yours. Besides wear their clothes so well.”

“I’m the Sales and Marketing Director. Which means I do a
little of everything, I suppose, except the Operations side. The warehouse,
Customer Service, accounting, things like that. And I’m not in charge of the
actual product selection. I work on that in collaboration with our Product
Director. There’s always something new to learn, something different to do.
That’s what I like about it.”

“Aren’t you too young, though,” he asked, taken aback, “to
have a job like that?”

“I’m lucky to work for someone who’s always willing to give
me more responsibility. My boss isn’t very hands-on. We like that, though. We
have a great team, lots of talented people. It’s not like I have to know how to
do every job best, or have all the good ideas. All I have to do is recognize
other people’s strengths and help them work together so the best ideas get out
there.”

Nothing easy about that, he knew. That was always the
challenge, and not everyone was up to it. “How’s the company doing, then?”

“Really well, actually. We’ve been growing every year, both
in sales and staff. I like knowing I’m helping women be active. No trophies,
I’m afraid, or anyone to cheer for us, but I love getting letters from women,
and choosing pictures of real women wearing our clothes for the catalog. Women
who are doing all sorts of amazing things. They inspire me.”

“Sounds like you have a bit of pressure on you, though. Good
for you to get away, I reckon. What made you come on this trip alone? I’m
surprised you didn’t bring someone with you. That you aren’t with someone, as
pretty as you are.”

“I could say the same thing. Not that you’re exactly pretty.
But why are
you
here alone? There isn’t somebody back home, is there?” she
asked in sudden alarm. “You aren’t married, or in a relationship with
somebody?”

 “Hang on.” He held up both hands in protest. “How did this
get to be about me? Nah, I’m not married. Not living with anyone. Not with
anyone. Single and available. What about you? Bit of a holiday away from your
partner?”

He laughed at her shocked expression. “Never mind. I may not
know you very well yet, but I can tell you’re not the type.”

“Let’s hope not. No, nobody at home waiting for me. And as
for a friend to come with me—a
female
friend, I could have worked that
out, I suppose. But I wanted to come here by myself. I’ve never had much time
alone, to do what I wanted to do. I haven’t had any adventures at all, really. It’s
so nice,” she smiled happily, “and I’m only a week into it. No schedules, no
plans. Bliss.”

“And now you’ve almost drowned, and snorkeled through a sea
cave,” he agreed. “Up here, we’re going to have another adventure, if you’re
ready.”

She looked in the direction he pointed. The path wound
steeply up a rock-strewn slope to where, far above, jagged rocks thrust against
the sky.

“This is where you tell me if you want to turn around,” he
said seriously. “You can see why they call it The Pinnacles.”

“Is it safe?” she asked doubtfully.

“All steps, and ladders, and handholds,” he reassured her.
“More of a physical challenge. Stamina. I’ll watch you, no worries. Somebody
counted, I heard, and found there are more than 500 steps. What do you think?”

“500 steps. How can I resist? Although now I’m going to feel
I have to count them all.”

They set off on the steep ascent. The wind was stronger up
here, threatening to take the cap from Hannah’s head and blowing her shirt
against her body. And he was right, there were a lot of steps. A whole lot of
them. After the fourth or fifth long flight, she found herself slowing down to
maintain her stamina for the long trek.

“Why don’t you walk ahead of me?” Drew suggested. “I’ll
match your pace. Take your time.”

After a few more flights, though, she stopped and told him, “I
think you should go ahead.”

“Why?” he objected. “You’re doing fine.”

“Because,” she said in exasperation. “I don’t want you
walking up all those steps behind me, looking at my rear end. I know it’s big,
OK? I don’t want you getting that view, and thinking how I should be working on
that.”

He burst out laughing and pulled her to him. “Sweetheart,”
he said, still grinning, “who says it’s big?”

“It’s been mentioned,” she answered stiffly. “I’m not one of
those skinny girls. I know that. Nobody’s going to ask me to model on the
catwalk. But I’m strong.” She glared at him. “And this is what I have.”

“And I love it. Whoever told you your bum was too big was
mad. Your bum,” he said seriously, running his hands down her back and then,
slowly, onto the offending body part, “is perfect.”

“Absolutely perfect,” he murmured as he bent to kiss her.

She wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss,
rising up onto her toes on the open track. As his mouth moved over hers, her
hands went of their own volition around the back of his neck, pulling his head
down to hers, rubbing over the corded muscle at the side of his neck, and then sliding
down over his broad back. Her hands settled on either side of his spine, where
her fingers felt the ridge of muscle rising strongly on either side.

In response, he kissed her again, harder and more hungrily,
his hands moving up and down her lower back, then moving lower, pulling her
closer.

Voices from above brought him back to himself. Good choice
of a spot, mate, he told himself disgustedly. Here they were, hours from the
trailhead, and all he could think about was making love to her.

He lifted his mouth from hers with regret. “Someone’s
coming,” he told her gently as he set her away from him.

She blinked up at him, a little dazed. “Oh!” She came back
to herself with a visible effort. “All right.” She pulled her shirt down around
her where it had pulled up over her belly, and gave herself a little shake. “Phew.
So.” She grinned at him. “Not too big after all, huh?”

He laughed back at her as they stood aside to let another
couple pass on their way down the stairs.

“Whoever decided that women should have a flat bum?” he
wondered aloud once the coast was clear. “No man, I’ll tell you that. We like
something to hold onto back there,” he teased. “I’ll have to study it more to
be sure, but based on a quick check, yours is just right. Round. Fit. But if
you’ll walk in front of me a bit longer, I’ll let you know if it’s as good as I
think it is.”

“What an offer,” she complained. “I’m all self-conscious
now.” And in fact, as she set off up the steps again, she
was
self-conscious,
feeling his eyes on her. Knowing he liked what he saw sent a tingle through
her.

She felt as though he were still touching her as they continued
to climb. They didn’t talk now, just walked steadily up. Steps, then more
steps, until a long ladder bolted directly into the vertical wall loomed in
front of her. She swallowed as she looked up, to a series of ladders amidst the
rock above.

“I’ve got you,” he said behind her, reaching to pull her
against him. “But if you want to turn around and go back down, we can do that
instead. In fact, that may not be a bad idea. I’m beginning to think this whole
tramp was a mistake anyway. Take us too long to get back from here.”

She turned in his arms and looked at him. “I want to go to
the top, though. I want to stand right out on the edge with you.”

His eyes kindled as he looked back at her. “Reckon we’d
better get on, then. Because I want to be on the edge with you too.”

She turned back to the ladder, a surge of power coursing
through her. She wanted this, and she was going to take it. But first, she was
getting to the top of this thing. She was going to look out over the world from
the top, and know she had climbed there.

On and on, up and up. The ladders gave way to single metal
rungs bolted into the rock, and scrambles up the steep slope. Drew was there behind
her, a steadying hand and an encouraging word, as he negotiated the difficult
path with ease. Her breath came harder as the track grew more vertical, but she
focused on pushing up. On not looking down, as she pulled up from rung to rung
over a sheer face.

She pulled herself at last up a final ledge, around a final
corner, and suddenly found the concrete viewing platform in front of her, as
far as they could climb. A wall of rock on one side, a simple metal guardrail
on the other, with just enough room for a few people. And all around her,
sweeping views of rugged hills, jagged rocks, and far away, the sea.

She had done it. She had never loved heights, but she had
climbed all the way up here, and now she was at the top. She stood, proud and
happy, embracing the fierce wind that blew harder up here, on the exposed
heights. She wanted to feel more of that. She wanted to be wild, fierce as the
wind. She pulled off her hat, yanked out the band holding her braid, and shook
out her hair. And laughed, exultant, as the mass of fine strands rose around
her, whipping in the wind.

She turned to Drew. “Isn’t it great?” she exulted. “I did
it!”