The Seduction of Suzanne (10 page)

“As it comes,” he replied.

When both cups were full she carried them out, bringing a saucer for her tea-
strainer. She held out his cup, feeling with a thrill the warm brush of his fingers as he took it from her. Then she sat on the second deck chair.

Suzanne
was watching him out of the corner of her eye and caught the slight wince as he tasted the coffee. Yet he didn’t say a word about it. Merely drank bravely.

She sipped her tea quietly, looking towards the fantail. She was finding it hard to sit still. That kiss was on her mind, and it made her want to squirm as she sat there stealing glances at the sensuous curve of his mouth. Would he touch her again like that? So softly and gently. Would she feel that
same warm tide of pleasure rising through her body to swamp logic and coherent thought? It was so long since she’d felt physical desire it seemed a totally alien sensation. Had it ever been so intense before?

Finally he put his mug down on the verandah. She leaned just far enough to see it was still half full, and hid a tiny smile.

“Just the other day, someone was telling me about a hot water spring on the island that one can swim in.”

“I know it. It’s about three-quarters-of-an-hour’s walk into the bush from the road.”

“I brought my swimsuit with me,” he said, giving her a boyishly hopeful grin.

Suzanne
looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspiciously wondering what he’d been told. The spring’s water ran down through a series of pools. The walking path met the pools at their lowest point, and there was a small picnic area. Like many of the island’s natural beauties, the path was minimally signposted, so one had to know what one was looking for to find it. This meant that even at the height of summer, one might have the pools to oneself. Even if there were other people, they were likely to stay by the picnic tables where the pools were wide and shallow and pleasantly warm.

But again, if one knew what one was looking for, there was a second, far narrower path leading upstream to the original source of the hot water. There a small, cold waterfall fell into a much
deeper pool, and mingled with the spring water seeping up from between the large pebbles below.

With the tumbling water of the delicate waterfall, the encroaching ferns and foliage, and the secluded silence of the bush, the ambience was purely romantic.

That was why Suzanne was suspicious. Yet Justin met her look with perfect innocence.

“Yes it is a nice place. I hope you’ve got insect repellent too, because the mosquitoes are fond of it as well,” she said repressively.

“It’s in my car,” he replied.

“Give me a moment to get my walking boots and togs,” she said.

“Togs?”

“My swimsuit,” she clarified, knowing that it was not an expression with which an American would be familiar.

She held out her hand for his mug, and he passed it to her.

Back in the house she quickly rinsed the two cups and grabbed a homemade muesli bar for a roving breakfast. Then she assembled a backpack of gear for a light tramp and swimming, as well as her socks and boots. She came back to sit on the verandah steps as she swiftly laced them up, the burn of the laces a familiar friction on her slightly callused hands.

“Shall we go in your car, or mine?” he asked.

“Let’s take yours,” she said. “It’s already halfway to the road. And it’s much nicer than mine.”
Threading her ponytail through the back of a baseball cap, she bounced lightly down the remaining steps and passed him with an energetic stride.

He caught up and matched her easily.

“What’ll we do about lunch?” she asked.

“I packed a picnic.”

“You did come well prepared,” she replied in mocking astonishment.

“Ever the boy scout, and at your service, ma’am.”

With those wicked blue eyes he looked
nothing
like a boy scout, she thought as he smirked good-humouredly at her. And then she blushed hotly as she remembered the last time he had offered to be of service.

She threw her backpack into the backseat of the unlocked car and climbed in, swiping road dust from the door handle off her hand and onto the seat of her shorts. She narrowly escaped slapping a nervous tattoo out on the bare skin of her knees as he climbed in beside her, the sheer scale of him immediately shrinking the available space dramatically. Instead she clenched her hands into fists and then sat on them, determined not to act as jumpy and skittish as she felt.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile as he paused with his hand on the key in the ignition and looked at her enquiringly. “So, which way? Left or right?”

“You turn left, and then just follow the road. I’ll let you know before you have to turn again.”

Her eyes roved the interior of the car, searching for inspiration, some topic of conversation that would stay light and neutral.

“This thing is so space age.” She patted the dash lightly, careful not to trigger anything. “All buttons and knobs and dials and screens. I fell like I’m in something from Star Trek. I’m surprised all its delicate systems haven’t expired from the shock of life on the Barrier.”

“Designed for a rugged life, despite its appearance. Kind of like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You look sleek and lovely. You naturally have the sort of glow some women spend hours to achieve. But it’s good health and vigour, not salon treatments and make up. You’re physically strong, you use your body as you like. I’ve met models who are as slender as you but they are bones and fat. No muscle tone whatsoever. But this,” he laid one hand on her upper arm, circling her bicep in a warm grasp, “this is solid. I love to watch you move. You’re like lightning in female form. Graceful. Riveting.”

Suzanne
gaped at him, astonished and entranced by this foreign picture. She did think of her body as her favourite tool, one that should be used wisely. And she liked to think she kept it tidy. But appearance was never her first consideration. Usually she didn’t dwell on what other people saw when they looked at her. He was the exception. With him, it was often on her mind.  Yet the picture he laid out before her was completely unexpected. And pleasing.

His hand loosened on her arm, slowly as if with reluctance. He let it fall away, then returned it to the wheel.

She felt a warm glow rising inside her, and tried to squelch it, to no avail. He liked – no, ‘loved’-  to watch her move. Wow. She cuddled this new information to her and was silenced.

In all honesty, what could one say?

After a while he commented on the scenery and she answered almost at random. The curving road unfolded in front of them, rising up from the farmland in the valley and becoming forest-clad slopes.

“Here we are,” she exclaimed with relief, restless and wanting to escape the intense atmosphere of awareness that had developed in the car.

They had reached the carpark, which was nothing more than a wide spot in the road. Suzanne was pleased to see there were two other cars already there, both liberally covered with the ubiquitous dust from the dry gravel roads. That meant more people at the pools, which would make their swim much less intimate.

As soon as she was out of the car,
Suzanne sprayed herself generously with insect repellent. It had a pleasantly sharp scent and would keep off the mosquitoes that could be found anywhere that water had seeped to lie in stagnant pools deep within the shadowed undergrowth. Justin followed her lead and used his own repellent, which was a different, citrus-scented brand.

She led the way into the shade of the forest.

Unlike most walking trails, this one was wide enough for three people to walk abreast in perfect comfort, rather than in single file. So Justin walked beside her, matching his stride to her own. She watched their feet moving in step as the path climbed, and took note of his boots. They were well made and looked expensive, if well worn. She didn’t recognise the brand. Apparently he was willing to spend a bit of money where it counted. His clothes might be falling apart but he took better care of his feet. 

They didn’t speak. There was something about the stillness of the bush that called for quiet attention. Only when they walked without speech could they listen to the quietly murmured secrets of the streams which could be heard, but which remained mostly unseen through the trees.

She looked for the flash of birds’ wings, for gnomish fungal landscapes which clung to the huge trunks of trees, for tiny ferns which pushed delicate green fingers through the rich brown matter on the forest floor. With a touch, a quiet word, a pointing hand, she drew his attention.

He nodded, exclaimed, started pointing out things she hadn’t seen.

It felt like companionship.

She always enjoyed a shared bushwalk, but there was something about Justin that made the experience so much better. He seemed to enter so
easily and completely into the same mood, as if he understood and shared the thrill she felt surrounded by such a lush wealth of life.

The fact that his every brushing touch sent ripples down her spine, that she was constantly aware of his large, lithely muscular body beside hers, was quite a different issue.

When they had almost reached the pools, they met a group of people travelling in the opposite direction. It was a Maori family, with three children. As they passed each other they exchanged smiles and casual greetings.

A moment later
Suzanne and Justin reached the hot pools. There was another family there, the children splashing noisily in the water, the parents just beginning to set out food on the picnic table.

“Let’s go upstream,” said Justin in her ear.

She shivered at the feeling of his breath against her neck.

“W-we should get changed here first,” she stammered. “I’ll be back in a sec.” Feeling awkward, she scuttled further up the wide path away from the pools until she was out of sight behind some dense foliage. Quickly she replaced her clothing with her swimsuit, and after wrapping her towel around her waist sarong-style, walked briskly back to where he was standing.

There was no way she was stripping naked alone with him upriver.

“Oh, I see,” he said in amused comprehension. “Give me a moment then.” He sauntered casually
away, to return a minute later wearing only his backpack, socks and boots and a pair of black swimming shorts.

“If madame is ready,” he said with a bow, and a gesture to where the small, winding path upstream started. Almost forcibly, she tore her attention from the beautifully defined musculature of his upper torso. The man really was a walking work of art.

She followed him as they walked single file, the narrow track grassed over in places, leading to a scramble upwards and then a sharp descent back towards the stream. It had obviously never been planned, but simply created by the passage of feet.

It took less than ten minutes for them to reach their destination.
Suzanne felt warm from exertion, and also from watching Justin move.  All that tanned skin, with muscles rippling smoothly underneath. Again she wondered somewhat acidly whether he was aware of his allure and using it deliberately. If so, it was working. She really had no defences against it. He took her breath away.

As she had expected, the highest pool was empty, although the sounds of the children downstream could still be faintly heard. Simultaneously they both bent to untie their bootlaces. He was done before her, slipping off his pack and easing carefully into the water. When his shoulders were under he turned, and she felt the heat of his gaze as she hesitantly untied her towel, and turned to drop it on top of her bag. She followed him into the
water, her eyes on her toes beneath the ripples. He watched her as she came toward him, before veering to one side to find her own spot midway between the cold of the waterfall and the heat of the thermal spring.

She waited, tense and unsure what to expect, but he made no move towards her. Instead he settled himself, sitting against the edge of the pool and closing his eyes with pleasure. “Mmm, blissful.” He looked the picture of unconcerned relaxation, with his head tilted back onto a convenient patch of moss, his eyes shut and a slight smile on his face.

She took the opportunity to stare at him, a blonde river god lurking in her pool. A sleeping satyr. She could feel faint water currents rising up her legs, stroking her inner thighs with delicate fingers, cool then warm. She imagined gliding through the water to him, putting a hand on his hard body, feeling those rippling muscles under her fingers. She remembered the feeling of his hand on her upper arm, clasping her tightly. Would he pull her to him? Would her nipples – drawn tight now, little buds pressing against the fabric of her swimsuit – be pressed up against his pectorals? He had been so solid when he kissed her yesterday, like a brick wall with clothes on. But he barely had clothes on now. What would his naked skin be like, lubricated by the water between them. Silk over steel?

His eyes remained closed, his breathing even. He could almost have been asleep.

The waterfall splashed unconcernedly, and wisping tendrils of steam curled across the surface to rise and disappear in the still air, cool under the tree canopy. Occasionally a mosquito hovered across the surface before skidding away, bereft of a target.