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“That’s what I’ve heard,” he replied. “I must admit, I’m looking forward to a change of pace. I think the island will be good for me.”
“If it gets in your blood, then you’ll never want to leave,” she agreed.
“Is it really covered in Kangaroos?”
She laughed. “Yes, it really is. You have to be extremely careful when you drive around the island. They like to throw themselves at unsuspecting cars. The tourists usually find out the hard way exactly how many roos there are.”
“Damn, really?” He turned to look at her, a grin on his face. The smile lit up a dimple in his chin. Now that he was facing her head-on, she saw his nose was long and defined, and just that little bit crooked, as if it’d been broken at least once. It gave his strong features even more character. Hell, it made him almost irresistible. Not that she was in the market for a man, no matter how tantalizing he might be.
“Where are you from?” she asked, but thought she already knew.
“New Zealand.”
Of course, he was a kiwi. She’d picked up his accent as soon as he spoke. That explained even more about him. The lovely treacle-colored skin, the dark, brooding features.
“Have you lived on the island all your life?”
She gave a light laugh. “No. But I haven’t come far. I used to live in Adelaide, just over there.” She waved her arm in the general direction of the city. If the night had been clear, they might’ve been able to see the glow of the lights from Adelaide, but tonight everything was covered in glowering clouds. It would be pitch dark by the time they reached the island.
“Funny, I’ve spent the past eleven years in Adelaide myself. But never once visited Kangaroo Island.” He stared off at the disappearing mainland and Sierra pulled her coat in around herself. It was getting colder now the sun was gone.
“Hey,” he continued. “I feel better.” He tilted his chin. “Thanks for distracting me. I’m feeling almost human.”
“Not going to puke anymore?” she asked.
“Nope.” He gave her that rakish grin again, the one with the dimple, and something shifted inside Sierra’s chest. “My name’s Reed. Reed Kapua.” He held out a hand.
What else could she do? She took it. “Sierra Goldstein.” His hand was warm, much warmer than hers. And strong, with long firm fingers.
“Nice to meet you, Sierra.”
* * *
Reed turned the dial on the dashboard as far as it would go, waiting for the engine to warm up enough to start heating the car. Damn, this place was cold. But he’d have to get used to it. Rubbing his hands together, he glanced forward through the windshield of his black Jeep. The car ramp was down now, they’d be giving the signal for the vehicles to move off the ferry soon.
The woman he’d met out on the deck sat in the gray Subaru in front of him. Sierra had offered to show him the way to the Kingscote Police Station. It was the least she could do, she said, to help out local law enforcement. He was to follow her car out onto the main road. He’d been surprised to hear it was nearly a forty-minute drive to the main township. Being an island, he’d thought everything would be close. But Kangaroo Island was a whole lot bigger than he imagined. Nearly one-hundred and fifty kilometers, from end to end.
If he’d had time, perhaps he would’ve done a little research on the area, but the job had come up, and in an uncharacteristic bout of spontaneity, he’d applied. They’d interviewed him the next day over Skype, and he’d been informed by his Senior Sergeant a day later that he could take the transfer if he wanted it. This was a sideways move, not a promotion. But Reed was happy with that. Life in Adelaide had been growing thin and stretched lately, his days as a cop starting to blend one into another. If he was lucky, this island might even turn out to feel a little like home.
His family had moved to Auckland when he was a teenager, but he’d always yearned to go back to his hometown. Missed the feeling of community and belonging that Hastings offered. Missed the slower pace of country life. Only time would tell if he might find that feeling of inclusion here.
Which reminded him, he should call his father. Nikau Kapua would be keen to hear about his new job. And his mum would want all the details of where he was staying, make sure he was eating enough, have enough warm, clean clothes, whether his new boss was treating him fairly, and all the other minute details. Reed smiled to himself, wondering if mothers all over the world worried about their grown sons as much as Shelly worried about him. Soon. He would call them soon.
A movement from inside the car in front caught his eye, and he watched the back of Sierra’s head as she leaned across to look at something on the passenger seat and then sat up straight again, her long ponytail swinging against her shoulders. It was nice of her to offer to show him the way. He continued to stare at her profile, wondering what she did on the island. Now that he thought about it, all their conversation, standing out in the freezing, salty air, had either been about him, or what he could expect on the island. She’d masterfully re-directed every time he asked her a personal question. Damn, how had she done that? He usually prided himself on finagling out the details of people’s lives. It’s what he did. What he was good at. If he hadn’t been so seasick, holding back the violent urge to puke his lunch all over the side of the boat, then maybe he would’ve been more aware of how she’d played him.
She was arresting; a classic beauty. Dark features, high cheekbones, and a sultry mouth. It was hard to tell exactly what was going on beneath that large Gortex jacket, but from what he could see of her well-toned thighs, sheathed in thick, black leggings, he’d bet his last dollar she had a killer body hidden under there, as well. As they’d parted to get into their respective cars, she’d playfully told him they were sure to run into each other again on the island. And now he found himself hoping her throwaway comment would come true.
Reed blinked. This was the first time in nearly two years he’d actually considered a woman in that way. But then, she probably wasn’t the type to do casual, and he certainly wasn’t into commitment.
A sharp pain shot up his calf and he eased his foot off the floor, rotating his ankle until the ache subsided. Cold always made his leg worse. But again, it was probably something he was going to have to get used to out here. The only thing between this island and Antarctica was a whole lot of wild ocean.
Anyway, who was he kidding, thinking lustful thoughts about a woman he’d only just met? He wasn’t here to find a relationship. He was here to do a job, a good job. Nothing more, nothing less. Better to stop thinking about those luscious lips and waves of silky hair. Mind back on the job, Reed.
The cars in front started to move forward and he eased his foot onto the clutch and put the Jeep in gear. It was fully dark now, the sun sinking behind the island well before they docked at the port town of Penneshaw. He flicked on his headlights and eased his car out behind Sierra’s. She’d warned him, more than once, not to get too close on the road and to keep his eyes peeled. She wasn’t kidding about the roos, they were a real menace, she said.
Just as they drove out of the ferry carpark, a figure stepped toward Sierra’s car, and she pulled over to the side of the road. Reed pulled in behind her, letting his car idle as he watched a short man lean in her window, passing her something, while talking animatedly. It was hard to see the man’s features in the poorly lit street; all he could make out was the man was wearing glasses, and was thinning on top. Reed waited patiently until finally the guy stepped away from her car and back onto the sidewalk. As he followed her into the main street again, Reed caught a glimpse of the man staring at him as he drove past, no doubt wondering who this stranger was following Sierra around town.
It was too dark to make out much of Penneshaw as they drove through, he’d have to come back and explore it in daylight, so he could acquaint himself with the lay of the land. Once out on the open road, Sierra kept her car well below the speed limit, and he stayed a dozen or so car lengths behind her. Three or four times on the trip to Kingscote, Sierra’s brake lights flashed red and he’d had to slow down, watching as groups of kangaroos stared at them from the roadside, before bounding off into the dark, ears pricked forwards, tails held high. By the time they reached Kingscote, he could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, just waiting for the next set of eyes to appear out of the gloom. This was crazy. One more hazard he was going to have to get used to.
