The Seduction of Suzanne by Amelia Hart Page B

his meal, his elegant progress slowed even further, until he eventually leaned back in his chair with his glass of wine in hand.
    “That was magnificent. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted better lobster than that. Even in the fine. . . ah. . .the fresh seafood capitals of the world.”
    “Thank you. When you’ve got good ingredients, it’s best to keep it simple. So. . .uh. . .” She didn’t know what to do, now she had no meal with which to busy her hands. She clasped them between her knees, rolled her lower lip between her teeth. “What do you have planned for tomorrow?” she finally asked, a conversational gambit she only belatedly realised could be read as an invitation.
    “I thought perhaps you might have some suggestions about what’s good to see. Since you know it all so well.”
    Suzanne took a deep breath, and then brightly launched herself into a description of the pleasures of Great Barrier Island’s walking and cycling paths, thermal springs, fishing, kayaking and snorkelling, knowing but not caring that she sounded like a tour guide. It was a conversational treading of water.
    When she paused for a moment, temporarily out of words, Justin said, “I’d love to see more of the island than what I’ve seen so far – mostly just the surf beaches. Of course I really need a companion, someone who knows the best things to see and do. Preferably a local.”
    “What about your friends?” she asked. “Aren’t they from round here?”
    “They’re all Aucklanders who’ve bought baches on the Barrier. They come over quite often in the weekends, and for the next couple of weeks they’re here on holiday, but they’re only just beginning to get to know the island. No, I really need an expert.” He met her eyes again, blatantly making this broad hint even broader with his warm and meaningful gaze.
    Ah, he was so. . .beautiful. It was difficult to look at him and think clearly at the same time. There was no doubt that she wanted to respond by offering herself as a knowledgeable local. The desire was based on the pleasure she always felt when sharing her beloved island with those who didn’t know its most precious secrets, and a near irresistible urge to explore the dynamics of her attraction to him. That urge was starting to dominate her fears.
    Her hand came to her mouth in a thinker’s pose. She was trying hard to look as if she was giving the idea calm contemplation.
    She would be a fool to commit herself to spending hours or even days in this man’s company. He created such a tumultuous reaction within her. She didn’t want to stir up the peaceful tenor of her life by letting him in at all. Certainly any relationship with him, no matter how casually it was intended, would prove to be uncomfortably intense. Her every instinct and internal barometer warned her of that.
    Of course, he had as good as declared that he was free to stay for months if he wanted to. But that didn’t put him in a ‘reliable’ category, by any stretch of the imagination. There was nothing in his behaviour to indicate that he genuinely intended to remain for a long period of time. And did it really matter how long he stayed, when it was inevitable that regardless of what happened, he would eventually leave?
    Yet there was the way she felt with him sitting so close beside her. She was drawn to him with a strange, bone-deep excitement. She thought of the moth with the candle flame. She also had to admit that it wouldn’t be difficult to like him, as easy-going and assured as he was, with his genial sense of humour. He had charisma and confidence, yet managed to escape the swaggering machismo that would have instantly repelled her.
    Perhaps she could simply get to know him better, without becoming romantically involved. It was a possibility.
    A vague possibility.
    And underneath it all were those damned fears, making her feel like any step towards him, any lessening in her defences was a mistake. She should be more guarded,