White-Hot Christmas (2 page)

He looked her over at the same time, his gaze skimming down her figure and back up to her face. When his eyes met hers, they were filled with lazy admiration.

Jake cleared his throat. Merle suddenly realised she’d been staring as if she’d met a movie star, and heat rose in her cheeks.

Neon studied her, then looked up at the sky, shading his eyes. “Warm day, isn’t it?”

“Very,” she agreed, realising he was trying to cover up her blush. How nice. He didn’t fool her sister, though. Bree began to walk up the beach, not even bothering to hide her amused smile.

Merle bit her lip and turned to follow her but didn’t miss the way Jake elbowed his cousin in the ribs and the playful push Neon gave him back. She lowered her eyes, trying not to laugh. What were they, twelve? It was fun for a moment, to pretend to be ten or fifteen years younger, thinking about nothing but boys. Real life was so much more demanding. She gave a sigh, turning her attention to the scene before her. It had been a pretty intense year, and she’d managed to escape her demanding life by the skin of her teeth, and then only for two weeks. She desperately needed to relax.

When was the last time she’d had a holiday? Worryingly, she couldn’t remember. She’d had that weekend away with Phil over a year ago, but it had only been to Cornwall, and he’d spent most of it on the phone, sorting out some case with his partner at the law firm. The last time she’d actually got away, out of the country, to somewhere warm and foreign, had been while her father was alive, more than three years ago. That had been to Minorca, and Bree had come with them. It had only been a package deal, basic bed and board, hardly the holiday of a lifetime, but the landscape and climate had been hot and alien, and they’d all enjoyed the seafood, the warm sea and the golden sand. It had been the last time they’d been happy as a family.

“No unhappy thoughts are allowed in New Zealand,” Neon stated, surprising her. She hadn’t realised he’d drawn alongside her and was watching her as she gazed out to sea.

She glanced at him, seeing his eyes were kind, thoughtful. “Sorry. I was thinking about my father. He’d have loved it here.” She smiled at how exotic the scene looked from a British perspective, the sea a startling blue, Neon and Jake fit and tanned, surfboards under their arms. It was quiet and peaceful, the only sound the cry of the seagulls and the squeal of children as they ran in and out of the waves—not that there were many people on the beach. In what she was beginning to recognise as true Kiwi style, only half a dozen families dotted the golden sand, enjoying the sunshine. “You’d never get this kind of view at Margate.”

He laughed. “I’m guessing England’s beaches aren’t its best selling point.”

“Let’s just say similar weather in the UK would bring people out the way jam draws ants. You wouldn’t be able to move on the seafront. Have you ever been to the UK?”

“No.”

“Well, don’t bother. You wouldn’t like it.” As the words left her mouth, she realised how arrogant she sounded and flashed him an apologetic smile—who was she to say what he would or wouldn’t like? But he didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re probably right.” He bent to pick up a stone, brushed the sand off it, looking at the colours, then skimmed it into the ocean. “Jake wasn’t impressed.”

“What did he say about it?”

“I think his exact words were ‘It’s fucking cold’.” She burst out laughing and he joined in. Then he brushed the sand off his hands and sent her a wry look. “Sorry. I’ve only just met you and I’m insulting your country. I’m sure it’s got many redeeming qualities. I’d love to visit some of the historical sites—we haven’t got anything like that here, apart from Waitangi and the Stone Store, and they’re hardly ancient.”

“Its history is its main attraction, I think,” she said. “Unfortunately, though, many of the places are overrun by tourists, and it’s difficult to get a sense of atmosphere.” She went to say more, but they were approaching a group of about seven or eight other men and women sprawled out on towels, soaking up the sun, and Jake had walked up next to her.

“Come and meet the rest of the gang.”

Merle smiled nervously as Jake led her up to the rest of the party. Bree had told her they were staying in a beach house that night with some friends, and Merle had nearly decided to stay behind in Kerikeri. She wasn’t keen on parties or socialising in general and felt out of her depth in this country with the athletic, tanned women who were comfortable prancing around in the tiniest bikinis. But as she approached, everyone sat up, smiling, and when Jake introduced her, the chorus of hellos made her feel welcome.

Bree shook out the two towels she’d brought from the car and collapsed on one, indicating for Merle to sit beside her. She did so, stretching out her legs and leaning back, letting the sun warm her through. It had been a cold autumn in England, with snow in November, and she’d thought she’d never be warm again.

“Beer? Or Diet Coke?”

Neon crouched beside a cooler, holding up two bottles.

“A beer would be lovely.” She didn’t normally drink it, but the idea of a cold lager appealed in the heat.

He twisted off the top and handed it to her, and she thanked him. Nodding, giving her a smile, he stood and walked off with Jake to where some of the guys were starting to throw a Frisbee around.

Merle glanced across at her sister. Bree had been watching them, and now raised her eyebrows and laughed.

“What?” said Merle. “He was just being nice.”

“Yes, he was. He also wants to rip all your clothes off.”

Chapter Two

Merle felt her cheeks flush red for the second time in about ten minutes. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. We were just talking.”

Bree’s eyes danced with amusement. “I think you’ve been out of the dating game too long, sis. If you’re missing signals like that, no wonder you’re still single.”

“I’m single by choice.”

“Hmm.” Bree gave her a look. “Have you had sex at all since you split up with Phil?”

“That’s none of your business,” Merle said, big-sister fashion, fixing her with a firm look.

“Oh my God.” Bree rolled her eyes. “Merle, seriously, are you aware that real penises don’t vibrate?”

“Bree!”

Her sister laughed out loud, reached across and patted Merle’s knee. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, you’re so easy to tease!”

Merle said nothing, looking out to sea. Bree’s statement had touched a sore spot. It had indeed been over a year since she’d had sex, and though she would never have admitted it to Bree, she missed the intimacy, even though Phil had hardly set her alight in bed.

Bree reached out and grasped her hand. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I know it’s been a difficult year for you.”

“Just a bit.” Merle glanced across at her sister. “You should call Mum more often.”

Bree dropped her hand, turning her face up to the sun. “She depresses me. The more I ring, the more depressed I get.”

“I know, but she misses you so. She’s just lonely, Bree, and she’s not well, you mustn’t forget that.”

“I know she’s not well, but that’s no excuse for being so horrible to me.” When she looked over, Bree’s eyes were cold. “And to Jake. You don’t know everything she said to us before we moved out here. She was nasty, Merle. I haven’t forgiven her for that.”

“I know. It was only because she didn’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t care. You don’t say those kinds of things to your daughter when she’s getting married. She should have seen how excited I was and been happy for me. And anyway, she could come and visit. It’s not all down to me.”

Merle said nothing, absently watching Neon as he stretched up for the Frisbee, catching it easily, sending it spinning to one of the others with a flick of his wrist. Bree didn’t really have any idea what effect the illness had had on their mother. The cancer, jealousy and fear had eaten Susan from the inside out, and she was a shadow of the woman she’d once been. She would never be able to manage the twenty-six-hour plane journey, physically or mentally. And even if she were able to make the flight, she was just as stubborn as Bree and would never consent to visiting New Zealand. She would see it as giving in, accepting that Bree had been right to choose her husband over her mother.

Susan hadn’t always been this way. But the shock of the illness, combined with losing her husband a few years before, had seemed to lower her threshold of resistance and change her personality. She’d had the mastectomy and the cancer had apparently vanished, but she insisted she could feel it inside her, and Merle could almost see the dark hand of the disease still hovering over her mother, twisting her conception of the world and warping her love for her daughters.

“You do too much for her,” said Bree.

“She needs looking after.”

“She’s learned to rely on you. She’s not an invalid, Merle. But she is manipulative and devious. She’s got her claws in you and she’s not going to let you go easily, you do know that, don’t you?”

Merle spoke sharply. “Don’t talk about her like that, you know it upsets me. And anyway, I’m happy to look after her. I don’t need a lecture on how to run my life.”

Bree sighed. “I’m not giving you a lecture. I hate to see you not being able to live your life because of her. I mean, I know she had something to do with you splitting up with Phil, didn’t she?”

Merle said nothing. Bree was right that their mother had been the reason she and Phil split up, but it hadn’t been her mother’s fault. If anything, Susan had been a catalyst, an excuse for both her and Phil to bring to an end a relationship that had gradually petered out, like a firework that blazed briefly before dwindling to a gentle spark and finally a dull glow. Except it hadn’t really blazed that much in the first place. She’d agreed to go out with Phil because she’d been lonely, and even though their affection had eventually turned physical, she couldn’t honestly say in the bedroom they’d done anything but fizzle damply.

She hadn’t been as upset when they broke up as she’d thought she’d be when ending her first long-term relationship. Although she’d cried afterward, if she was honest, she knew it wasn’t because she missed him but because she was afraid she’d never meet a man who would make her feel the depth of emotion she longed for.

Bree took her silence as affirmation. “I knew it. I’m amazed she let you go long enough to come over here for a fortnight.”

Merle stared out to sea. Susan had begged her not to go, but Merle so wanted to see her sister that in the end she’d lost her temper with her mother, which she now regretted, guilt hovering like storm clouds. But it had been an exhausting term at work, and the weather had been bitterly cold. She’d been desperate to escape to somewhere warm, where she could have some freedom, even if it was temporary.

She sighed. “The last year hasn’t been much fun. Phil wasn’t exactly Casanova, but I did at least get out of the house with him.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” Bree reached over and squeezed her hand.

Merle smiled. Unbidden, her gaze sneaked to Neon, and she watched him standing with hands on hips, talking to Jake, his back to her. She took the opportunity to admire him, noting his long legs, strong shoulders and muscled arms. He must work out. And she absolutely
adored
tall men. At five-foot-ten, she didn’t often meet guys who towered over her.

He glanced over his shoulder suddenly, looking right at her, and, flustered, she looked away.

“You like him, don’t you?” said Bree.

“I think your husband’s lovely.” Merle brushed sand from her skirt, deliberately misunderstanding.

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Merle sighed. “I’m terrible with men, Bree. I do try. I go out for dinner, or to the theatre, or the cinema. But I always end up thinking they’re idiots, and after two or three dates I call it off.”

“But you do like Neon.”

Merle looked across at her, and was unable to stop her lips curling. “Yes, of course I do. He’s gorgeous. But, sweetie, I live on the opposite side of the world. The last thing I need is to get myself caught up in the complication of a long-distance relationship.”

Bree shrugged. “Who said anything about a relationship? If I wanted to find you a husband, Neon would be the last person I’d pick. His middle name’s ‘Feral’. But if you want to get laid… He’s pretty good, by all accounts.” She winked at Merle. “You know it rusts up if you don’t use it.” She laughed at the indignant look on Merle’s face. “Your problem is you’re aiming too high. You need to get back in the saddle. Stop thinking about long-term relationships and concentrate on sex.” Her gaze slid across to the guys. She looked back at Merle and waggled her eyebrows.

“A one-night stand?” Merle looked at her, horrified. “Oh my God, I couldn’t.”

Bree shrugged. “You’re halfway across the world where nobody knows you—apart from me and Jake. It’s the perfect opportunity to drop your professorial act and turn into a complete tramp. Who’s gonna know, for God’s sake?”

“How about me? And you and Jake? For a start.”

Bree snorted. “Well, I don’t care, and we just don’t tell Jake.” She glanced across at her sister, a gleam in her eye. “I bet you aren’t brave enough to have sex on holiday, with a complete stranger.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Stop being so bloody English, Merle. Loosen up a bit.”

“Ever heard of AIDS? And STDs? And pregnancy?” Merle’s back was ramrod straight with indignation.

“So use a frickin’ condom! Sis, you seriously need to loosen up. You’re so tight-laced you’re practically wearing a girdle.”

Merle sighed, looking at her sister. She knew what Bree was trying to say. The younger girl’s hair hung loose and tangled around her tanned shoulders. She wore an old, faded orange T-shirt and denim cutoffs, and she looked blissfully happy with her new life. Merle looked away, fighting an uncharacteristic surge of envy.

Bree studied her sister. “If you get yourself laid over the next fortnight, I’ll give you fifty bucks.”

Merle stared at her. “Twenty-five pounds? For my good reputation? Are you kidding me?”

“Fifty bucks for every time you get laid. And Merle—if you manage it five times, I’ll make it a round three hundred.”