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“Like what?”
“You know like what. Like you want to kiss me.”
She looks up then and meets my gaze. I stop walking, and she does too, turning to face me.
“I do,” I say. “I can’t help it.”
Her lips curve up. “You’re a naughty boy.”
“Our clothes are still on.”
She laughs. “That’s true.”
“The question is, would you like to kiss me?”
She sighs, repeating the answer I gave when she asked the same question. “More than life itself.”
I move closer to her, and she slides her arms around my waist. “Well, if anyone’s watching, we are officially a couple,” I murmur, and lower my lips to hers.
Her mouth is soft, and her lips part for me, allowing me to slide my tongue against hers. I cup her face and deepen the kiss, and she gives one of her delightful half-sighs, half-moans, tilting her head, her tongue darting to stroke mine.
I lower my arms around her, and her arms rise around my neck as she presses against me. Ahhh… I stroke my hands down, following the line of her waist, the flare of her hips, fire licking up inside me, and I can’t resist flicking up the hem of her top and resting my fingers on her bare skin. She gives a delicious shiver, and that’s it, my erection springs to life.
We kiss for a while, in the afternoon sunlight, surrounded by the gentle quacking of the ducks, the honks of geese flying overhead, and the movement of water through the reeds at the edge of the river.
When I eventually lift my head, her cheeks are filled with a rosy flush, and her eyes look dreamy.
“Mmm.” She presses her lips together. “You kiss like a god, Lawrence Oates.”
“It’s easy when I’m kissing you.” I touch my lips to her cheek, then her lips once more, briefly. “Come on,” I say softly. “Let’s get back to the lodge.”
We continue walking, but this time I put my arm around her, and she nestles against me with her arm around my waist.
“I was thinking while you were talking to Alan and Vicky that you seem quite shy sometimes,” she says.
“Oh?”
“You don’t talk about yourself much. I mean, you discuss your work, and you have funny anecdotes and stories, but I realize I don’t actually know that much about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know. About your family? Have you got any siblings?”
“Nope. Only child.”
“Do you have any other relatives in New Zealand?”
“Yes, my dad’s a Kiwi.”
“Oh of course, he’s in politics, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he’s a lawyer, based at the Beehive. Most of my family is in Wellington. My dad’s sister is a surgeon. Her husband is a computer engineer, and he’s the reason I got into the field. He invented a computer graphics card when I was young that was the best-performing in the market at the time, which is where he made most of his money. When I was in my teens he started to get interested in AI. He’s got three boys, and I spent a lot of time with them all, tinkering with computers and writing code, so it’s not surprising we all ended up working in the field.”
“They’re all computer engineers as well?”
“Yeah. Saxon’s actually on the verge of opening up a second branch of NZAI in Wellington with me.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Oh, really?”
