The Honeymoon Trap (11 page)

‘Like that’s a surprise.’

‘It’s a surprise to
me
.’

‘Shouldn’t be. When it comes to loving someone, you always go all in. It’s a gift. Wish I had it.’

‘No you don’t.’

Caleb laughed outright. ‘So we’ll see you Tuesday?’

‘Yeah.’ His voice sounded thick. ‘Thanks, man.’

‘Don’t mention it. Really. Ever.’

Zoey wasn’t in the honeymoon suite when he returned half an hour later. A handwritten note, the lettering full of extravagant loops and slashes, told him that she’d gone on ahead to the con and that if he wanted to find her he should look for a space pirate wearing a brown coat, thigh holster and suspenders.

Hopefully there were other items of clothes involved, because that vision right there in his head?

Pure erotic fantasy.

He drove himself to the convention hotel and handed the keys to the porter with a warning glance and a muttered, ‘Be careful with her. I want her out of the way and secure.’

‘Yes,
Sir
. Your room number?’

‘The Venexiana’s Queen Suite.’ Surely they’d be able to cross reference the rooms?

The guy nodded. Eli smiled, tipped the man plenty and strode inside.

She wasn’t in the foyer area or the bar. He headed for the convention hall, bracing himself for the people and the big screens, the sounds of battle and a lady warrior with ringlets in her glossy brown hair. He needed to tell her he’d been an idiot this morning and that he was sorry for storming out on her after the night they’d just shared. He needed to tell her he was sorry if he’d made her feel less valued and that it wouldn’t happen again. He needed to ask questions and get answers and just hold her for a while until he settled. Find out what she needed from him and give it to her. He had so much to say… so where the hell was she?

Eli could be impatient when he wanted to be.

Who knew?

It took him ten minutes to find her because the crowds were bigger than yesterday and they’d opened up new gaming rooms. She was in the motion capture sensors room and she was very definitely in the thick of things. She had a sword and an opponent with a sword and both of them were swinging, taking direction from a third man who was walking them slowly through an attack and defense routine. On the green screen behind them the swords and skeleton style arms showed up in 3D. The swords were real and hopefully blunt.

Zoey’s opponent outweighed her by approximately a hundred kilos.

Eli shoved his hands in his pockets and waited. She hadn’t seen him, all her concentration was for the instructions, her opponent’s moves and the weapon in her hands and that was how it should be. Laughingly graceful, eyes sparkling, body whirling.

Dicky heart nowhere to be seen.

How long did she have before her body realized its limits?

She knew those limits, she’d said. Trust her, she’d meant. With her life and his heart and God knows he wanted to, was going to.

Maybe he already did.

He watched from the sidelines as the instructor slowly put the routine together and then let them run through it three times in slow motion, and then added music with a ponderous heavy beat and made them do it again with each beat corresponding to a sword stroke or counter. Three more times and now ten minutes had passed, and now the instructor was swapping slow music for some with a slightly faster beat and telling Zoey and the big guy to listen up, feel the rhythm and just go with the flow because they were going to run through the routine again on the count of three.

The big guy messed up halfway through it and they started again, messed up again. On the third run through one of the guy’s strokes was so hasty and way off line that Zoey had to counter way down low or lose a leg. She went with the movement and it put her on the mat on her knees and then her ass as she went down laughing. Big guy looked mortified and well he should be. The instructor moved in but Eli was there before him, offering his hand.

‘Hey, it’s you,’ she said, eyes bright and skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. ‘Do you want a turn? It’s fun.’

‘No.’ He didn’t want a turn. He wanted to pick her up and wrap her in cotton wool and then turn and deck the idiot who’d let her fall. Instead he gritted his teeth and helped her to her feet and stood by as she brushed herself down and clapped her hand on the big guy’s shoulder. ‘So this is Gene, my sparring buddy, and our instructor here is Roger.’

Gene looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry, Zoey. I’m such a klutz.’

‘Yeah, but we almost had it. One more for the road?’

Gene nodded. Eli frowned. Roger put the slow music back on.

Damn fine idea.

They ran through it once more. All went well. Gene lumbered forward with a smile, knelt on one knee and laid his sword at her feet. He thumped his fist to his heart and declared fealty to the Zoey space pirate with the motion capture sensor sword.

She did seem to have that effect on people.

Eli met Roger’s gaze with a flat stare of his own. Roger grinned and gestured towards the sword. ‘Wanna try it?’

‘No.’ He’d probably take someone’s head off. Eli didn’t feel like making friends, but he held out his hand and made pleasant enough work of it. Roger made it easy with a seasoned stream of banter mixed with explanation of motion sensor equipment and how it all worked.

Zoey looked fascinated.

Eli went and fetched her coat.

‘The three amigos were looking for you,’ she said. ‘I think they want to try their hands at deep-sea fishing while they’re up this way. If they can get something organized I said I’d go too.’

‘Cutter’ll take them.’

Her pretty eyes narrowed as she took her coat from him and put it on. ‘Will he take me?’

‘Probably.’ But Eli would make damn sure that Cutter knew not to strap her to a chair and let her reel in a four-hundred-kilo marlin. Maybe she could fish for bream.

They said their goodbyes to Roger and Gene, Zoey was downright big on cheerful goodbyes for people she barely knew, and then she walked with him from the room as if she didn’t have a care in the world. And then she turned her pretty backlit eyes on him and there was an echo of pain in them, no costume could hide it. The other thing blazing from her eyes was hope.

‘You came back,’ she said with a decided hitch in her voice.

‘Did you think I wouldn’t?’

‘I didn’t know.’ She looked away. ‘I’m sorry, Eli. I should have been more up front with you about my condition. I could’ve brought it up in conversation early. The day we met or that first night. The following morning even. I knew I should have. I just wanted… last night… the way you made me feel. I traded honesty for that and I’m still not sure that I regret it.’ Her eyes grew bright and not in the good way.

‘Are you crying?’

‘No.’ Even as she dashed tears from her cheeks with her fingers. ‘Something in my eyes.’

‘They’re called tears,’ he muttered and gathered her into a bear hug. ‘Let’s start this morning over. How are you?’

‘I’m good,’ she said, still burrowing into his chest. ‘I’m dog tired, a little bit heartsore and dead scared of losing you when I’ve only just found you. But it’s all good.’

He could feel himself relaxing into her words. ‘Are you okay with me asking a few questions about your heart condition?’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Everything.’

She pulled back reluctantly. ‘Are you going to use that knowledge against me? Try and stop me from doing things?’

‘Maybe sometimes.’ May as well tell it like it was. ‘On occasion.’ He knew she hoped for a different answer but he could only offer the one he had. ‘I know you’re worried that I’m going to be overprotective of you, Zoey. I’m built that way, I know. Sometimes I’m going to weigh opportunity and cost differently to you. Sometimes I get stubborn and you’re just going to have to humor me. But maybe we can figure something out as we go.’

Her smile wobbled at first and then firmed. ‘Going to hold you to that.’

‘Feel like walking around and taking another look at all the pretties?’

She nodded. ‘The brown coat needs to pull some orders.’

‘And here I thought it was because you were aiming to misbehave.’

She smiled a little wider. ‘That too.’

She took two enquiries about her coat in the next half hour, along with shoulder and arm measurements, waist measurements and shoulder to knee. She set up two appointments for people to visit her for a costume fitting. She was running out of business cards.

‘So ask me a question about congenital heart disease,’ she said when finally they were alone again. ‘I don’t really know where to start.’

Neither did he. He needed to read up on the matter. Find out exactly what was wrong and how it impacted on her life. All the little ways. And bigger ones.

‘Let’s start with children. Do you even want children?’ Yeah, so maybe he could have led with something a little less… big.

‘Yes,’ she offered simply.

‘Good.’ So did he. ‘If pregnancy wasn’t for you would you consider other options like surrogacy or adoption?’

‘Would you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Me too. There’s research coming through that suggests that my condition could be a result of environmental conditions rather than genetics. That’s good news. Some conditions are genetic.’

‘Is your condition operable?’

She nodded. ‘For now it is. A lot of it’s been done. I spent months at a time in hospitals when I was a kid. I’ve had my share of operations, more than my share and some of them went well and some didn’t. I usually ended up in the cancer kids’ ward. No one wants to end up in the cancer kids’ ward.’

Touch was the second last sense to go, and then you just talked to them, and then…

God.

Eli shoved his hands in his pockets and remembered to breathe. ‘How careful do I have to be when it comes to lovemaking?’

She colored up beautifully. ‘I kind of… don’t know.’

‘You don’t
know
?’

‘I mean, two orgasms is clearly fine. More than fine,’ she offered earnestly. ‘Trust me.’

‘We’re getting out of here. We need to talk.’ He needed to panic. In private.

‘But I haven’t said goodbye to people.’

‘Do it later. Do it online. How could you
not know
?’

Had his voice risen? Her eyebrows had.

‘It’s hardly an exact science… and it’s not as if I’ve had extensive experience.’ She rocked back on her boots, tucked her thumbs into the waistband of her trousers and swiftly took his measure. He had a feeling that she was downright enjoying the torture Eli show. ‘We could try for
three
Zoey orgasms in one night. See how we go.’

She was definitely enjoying the torture Eli show. ‘Are you done making my brain explode?’

‘I still need to say goodbye.’

‘Is saying goodbye to absolutely everyone another quirk of yours? Like touch?’

She nodded. ‘Got to appreciate people.’ She didn’t need to say
while they’re still there
.

‘You know you’re pushing all my buttons, right?’

‘Got to make sure you know what you’re getting into.’

It took them an hour to make their way to the foyer.

Another half-an-hour to get to the door.

And then Zoey stopped to browse the tourist brochures.

She picked up a flyer advertising bungee jumping.

He put it back.

She picked up a paragliding flyer next.

He put it back.

‘Seriously?’ she protested. ‘All you do is sit there and go really slow.’

‘We’ve got one,’ he growled.

And she smiled sunnily and her eyes glowed.

Three orgasms. And when she got her way with that she’d aim for four.

‘Three’s my limit,’ he offered curtly, not really caring if she knew what he was talking about or not. ‘I’m the one who’ll need resuscitating if we aim for four.’

Zoey knew damn well what he was talking about. Her angelic smile and the gleam in her eyes said it all.

The man was beyond adorable when frustrated, impatient, and doing his level best to find a way to make them fit together, flaws and all. He wanted children, he wasn’t ruling out adoption, he wanted more of her and he was offering… something.

As far as Zoey was concerned, she was offering him all.

He took her by the hand and ushered her out the big double doors and gave a ticket to the doorman standing there. The doorman nodded, crossed to his little desk and picked up the phone. Minutes later a creamy green nineteen fifties FJ holden ute, fully restored and slightly improved, rolled to a stop in front of them. A young porter got out and handed Eli the keys.

‘Sweetest ride, man.’

Zoey blinked. ‘Is this yours?’

Eli nodded.

‘I have sunglasses that would match this car.’

‘Put ‘em on. What about a dress?’

‘I’ll make one.’ One for each day of the week. She headed around to the passenger door, trailing her fingers, but emphatically not her nails, over the vehicle’s sweet curves. ‘So where are we going?’

‘To the honeymoon suite.’

‘My favorite place.’

‘To talk.’

Zoey could talk when she wanted to. Zoey could talk about the world, the weather and everything in between. But talk was overrated when the man of your dreams was ushering you into a luxurious honeymoon suite and letting the door close behind him with a decisive click.

‘Are you sure we need to talk?’ she began as she ran her hand nervously over the nearest fabric, a rich burgundy and gold upholstery brocade. ‘We’ve covered plenty of ground already when you think about it. Clothes. Boats. Babies. Philosophies to live by…’

‘I want to see you again, Zoey.’

‘Naked?’ she asked hopefully. ‘Now? Really not a problem.’

But he wasn’t to be distracted. ‘I want to game with you on Friday afternoons, and have you walk into the party at the marina later that Friday night.’

‘This can be arranged.’

‘I want to have breakfast with you at the weekends.’

‘You’re going to have to meet Sophie. Sophie’s breakfasts are superb.’

‘Take you sailing.’

‘Now you’re talking.’

‘Take you to meet my family.’