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  Irish.’

  And if Sion Edwards was there? He felt a surge of excitement at the prospect.

  Flicking through his contacts, he pressed the phone to call.

  “Whitey? It’s Irish.”

  He let him rattle on. Whitey was a big fan of his new white VW van.

  He wasn’t sure how this would play out, so it was softly, softly. Whitey was a hard nut. He’d chopped that scumbag into fish food even after he’d got his money back for him. But even so, he was still touchy as Hell about his dead twin brother. Even after thirty years.

  “Listen la’, I’ve got a favour to ask yer.”

  “D’ya still have little Vinny’s birth certificate?... Does yer mam still keep everything in a box? Ah! Fair play to her… yeah… yeah… she has had it tough.``

  He yawned silently. Enough buttering him up.

  “Errr Whitey? How hard would it be to get hold of it for us? The birth certificate? That’s right… Just for a few days... Yeah… ‘course we’d give her summat for it… A holiday?…. Go on then… She loves Prestatyn, does she?… I’m sure we can fix her up with a static caravan on the Welsh coast… For a month?”

  Cheeky git.

  “I need it by tomorrow… The Richmond? Alright. Two o’clock it is.”

  It was done.

  At this stage it was only an idea. But things took time to organise, and as Vincent Cullen, Whitey’s now not so dead twin brother, he’d be free to go wherever he wanted without the National Crime Agency keeping tabs on him.

  Even to New Zealand.

  ◆◆◆

  When Shaun had agreed to help row the waka, he hadn’t realised he’d be bare-chested and wearing a piupiu, which was a skirt made entirely of flax leaves. Thank God he’d been able to wear his black Speedo shorts under it.

  He’d taken a selfie for Claire but she hadn’t opened it yet.

  And now, here he was, climbing into the waka with nineteen men.

  The massive canoe was floating well. And Ari was beside him too, in what he was coming to rapidly realise was far more than a boat launch.

  Rawiri nodded to Shaun and they moved up into the back of the waka like they’d practised. He was certain he was only there to make up the muscle, but it was still a huge honour for him. He was being allowed to take part in something symbolic and spiritual. This was not purely a boat ride.

  Blessings were given and the waka was named. The tradition, Ari told him, went way back to when the first iwis or tribes were named after their canoes.

  Local families lined the estuary, willing them on. And then, as each man held his oar vertically to the sky, Ari stood up tall in the waka, proud and invincible in his ceremonial kākahu, a spectacular cloak of feathers.

  Speaking in Māori he commanded the men and they flattened their oars. Touching the water with them they began to paddle as they’d practised. Together as one, they stroked out onto the tidal current and then worked steadily along the estuary.

  In the distance, Shaun was aware of a buzz of cheering and shouting from the shore, but no more than that. The bank had become blurry in his peripheral vision as he focussed on his oar and the rhythm of the strokes. Feeling only the pride of the men flowing like electricity and powering their corded muscles, they paddled their new waka first up to and then back from the river’s mouth.

  And on the estuary headland, blending in amongst the crowds one woman watched them. Her heart burst too as she followed the wake of the waka as it sliced through the brown river water towards the sea.

  Arriving back at the riverbank, Ari and Shaun jostled through the crowded shoreline surrounding the returned waka. Strangers slapped the backs of the waka captain and his Pākehā friend.

  Rawiri pushed excitedly past them, and Shaun watched him heading towards a group of tough-looking tattooed men.

  One of them stared back aggressively at Shaun and he glanced away. It was a proud day for the boy, but Rawiri’s situation concerned Shaun.

  Ari had told him to leave it be because Rawiri’s dad was into some serious shit. They had plantations of skunk set up in a forestry unit. Shaun had seen marijuana growing wild around the lodge but he hadn’t realised that criminal gangs were farming it out this way.

  And would Rawiri get sucked in too? He couldn’t save them all, but he vowed to talk to Rawiri again before he left.

  Finally, they found a space in the crowd to stand and breathe easy. Ari put his hand on Shaun’s shoulder.

  “Hey, you’re whanau now. Family.”

  Shaun swallowed a hard lump in his throat. How could Ari, new father and well-respected leader of men know what that meant to him? To be told he was ‘family.’

  He cleared his throat.

  “Thanks, bro. You’re only looking for a babysitter.”

  “There is that.”

  Michelle came over and Ari carefully took his new baby boy Kauri from her. Reaching forward, he passed the sleeping child over to Shaun who took him gently and held him.

  “Seriously, thanks, man,” Shaun said quietly, gazing at the sleeping child in his arms. “I will never forget today. And to be whanau with you. It means a lot. More than you know.”

  Ari looked him in the eye, commanding and displaying respect.

  “I’m here for you, bro’, even after our gig at the hostel’s up.”

  “Me too, brother. I’m gonna miss you all.”

  “I’m expecting an invite over to yours, real soon,” Ari laughed. “So, get the stubbies in, yeah. Might be sooner than ya think, if this little fulla keeps me awake much more.”

  Little Kauri looked so angelic, fast asleep in his arms. One week left, it was all he had until the students finished school and the hostel shut for good.

  He was genuinely sorry to be leaving. He’d learned so much from the boys and from Ari. And there was so much that he admired about Ari’s ways. Especially, how connected he was to his place. His environment, his culture, his family.

  “Shaun.”

  He glanced up. Stunned.

  She was standing there. In front of him.

  Long, silky, dark hair sweeping down across one shoulder, full red lips, reflective aviators masking her eyes. Her long, black t-shirt dress was slit up the sides giving a hint of her fabulous legs.

  His heart pounded.

  “Claire.”

  She slipped her glasses onto the top of her head as they stood in awkward silence, unable to speak, both overwrought, unable to take their eyes off each other.

  “Err... Claire. This is Ari.”

  “Ari, this is my friend who’s looking for her father.”

  “Hi Ari,” she smiled. “Thanks for your advice, though I’ve not made any enquiries yet.”

  Her eyes pulled back towards Shaun’s bare chest.

  It had been six months since he’d seen her but the physical magnetism between them took his breath away.

  As did his sudden bout of shyness. For the first time in his life, he was stuck for words.

  Ari stood transfixed, staring at her too, seemingly also unsure of what to say.

  Looking away, Claire touched her neck nervously.

  He plucked his son carefully from Shaun’s oblivious arms.

  “Kia Ora, Claire... uh, I think that this little one needs a change, so I’m gonna get outta here… See ya later at the hāngi, bro.”

  “Hāngi?” Claire asked, looking confused and a little disconcerted by Ari’s reaction to her.

  “They’ve got a heap of food cooking in this underground oven they’ve dug. You gotta see it,” Shaun explained breathlessly, finally able to speak. “Did you see us?”

  She repositioned her hair over her neck self-consciously.

  “Yes... I got a picture too. The boat cutting through the morning mists. And your friend there, standing in the middle. I’ll never forget it. Was it alright for me to come?”

  “Claire!”

  He took her hand, her almond eyes meeting his and lingering there. His bare skin goosebumped as he felt
the charge between them.

  Unable to bear the intensity any longer, she glanced shyly away.

  He watched her trying desperately to recover her composure.

  “It’s more than alright.”

  She flicked him a nervous smile.

  “Look at you. Let me see what you’re wearing.”

  Shaun obliged by stepping back and turning slowly for her as she giggled.

  She was still on edge, he could tell.

  “What would they say in the Cross Keys if they could see you now?”

  “Let’s keep this to ourselves, eh?”

  He took both of her hands and she gasped as he pulled her in towards him, her eyes widening with surprise but desire too as she gazed up at him.

  His bare skin felt the warmth of her t-shirt dress and the softness of her breasts pressed up against him as he lowered his head down towards hers.

  How much had he longed to kiss her? She had no idea. Or maybe she did? To put his lips on hers, hold her in his arms, feel her heart beating against his.

  But not here.

  Not where the boys and everyone could see them.

  He grazed the top of her forehead gently with his mouth, and using every ounce of willpower he had, he released her hands, fixing them solidly on her shoulders.

  “Wanna get outta here? I need to get changed.”

  Taking her hand in his, they walked back inland away from the headland of the estuary and the crowds, back towards the deserted beach and the school hostel.

  She looked around at the closed-up wooden school buildings and the hostel in front of them.

  “So, this is where you’re staying?”

  The look she gave him crackled in the air between them. There was no way he could invite her in to see his room.

  “Yip. Give me five minutes to change my skirt.”

  “Take your time. I’m fine out here, catching the rays. But be warned, if you come out in a dress, I’m walking away.”

  She sat down on the wall with her aviators back on.

  Dammit! Did she have any idea of the effect she was having on him?

  She brushed her hair over her shoulder again when she saw him coming back out. This time in shorts and a t-shirt.

  “Better?”

  “I preferred the bare chest.”

  She instantly coloured up.

  Crossing the road from the school they dropped down onto the empty beach and found a spot to sit together on the sand.

  She scooped up the fine sand in her hands and looked wistfully at the waves.

  “My first New Zealand beach.”

  He leaned his head against her soft hair tumbling down over her shoulder.

  “The first of many, I hope. How about when I finish up here, we take off and tour the country? The summer’s nearly here, we could head over to the Bay of Islands and then down to the bubbling mud places and the mountains in the South. What d’you think?”

  “Shaun.”

  Something was off. He tried to see her face but she’d turned her head away from him.

  “You don’t have to do this. Honest.”

  “What?”

  He was confused.

  “Claire, please?”

  She twitched her neck.

  “You don’t have to be with me, because of this.”

  “Claire?”

  He moved his arm to try and touch her face, to see her, but she flinched and he held off.

  “Shaun, you’re a decent guy. You feel bad about me. I get it.”

  Shaun rubbed his eyes and took a deep jagged breath, trying to quell all the emotions welling up inside. Love, hurt, fear, it all felt the same.

  “Is that what you think?”

  Turning her head to face his, her hand caressed his cheek.

  “How would I ever stop worrying that I’m your charity case every time you look at me?”

  She searched deep into his eyes.

  Could she not see how he felt? How much he loved her?

  Leaning tentatively towards her, his lips gently found hers and feathered across them and along her face.

  “Is this charity?”

  He nuzzled her ear with insistent kisses that sent her skywards.

  “Or this?”

  His hand carefully lifted her long silky tresses off her neck.

  “Do you trust me to do this?” he breathed, his lips still on her ear.

  She nodded.

  Healing her with his mouth, his lips gently felt their way over her scar, brushing her skin, gently, coaxingly over her neck. Then, up along her defined jawline until his lips finally and tantalisingly found hers.

  “Do you truly trust me, Claire?” he whispered, his lips against hers.

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  He edged apart. His eyes hooded with desire.

  “So, now you trust me, do you believe me when I say that I love you, Claire?”

  He flicked a lock of her hair tenderly off her face.

  “Not because of your wounds, or any sense of guilt or duty because the men were after me and you got hurt.”

  She let out a sob deep within and he answered it with a light kiss.

  He cupped her face in both of his hands, his eyes meeting hers and burning with the passion he felt.

  “I’m in love with you because you’ve gotten to be my best friend. And, if I’m being brutally honest, I fancy the pants off you. So much, it hurts.”

  She breathed out a small sigh. Her eyes still lost in his.

  “Good answer.”

  Lifting her hands to his chest she pushed him gently back flat onto the sand.

  Taking his mouth hungrily, she kissed him deeply, opening up to him as a tide of emotions flooded through her, drowning out all her doubts and fears.

  Surprised, relieved, overjoyed he responded ravenously; their tongues becoming wrapped in delicious desire for each other as they became a torrid tangle in the sand.

  The low pop-popping of a bike engine suddenly brought Claire to her senses.

  “Woah…”

  She pulled herself free from below him.

  “I think we might be drawing an audience.”

  She giggled, drawing away from Shaun.

  “Making out on the beach in broad daylight. See, they’re taking photos of us.”

  Shaun turned around and then jumped up when he saw them.

  “Shit! That’s Rawiri,”

  Three Harley Davidsons revved and pulled away, one with a boy on the back still dressed in his ceremonial clothes.

  ◆◆◆

  Shaun sidles up closer to me, shoulder to shoulder, his thigh touching mine as we sit on the grass, our bellies full of sweet potato and lamb from the hāngi.

  We’ve been watching the girls perform with the poi. They’re like balls that they move about and spin as they sing. It’s so clever and they’re all so strikingly beautiful in their traditional woven dresses.

  And it’s been party-party all day after the waka launch and I don’t want to go.

  “I need to be heading, I don’t want to be travelling back through the forest after dark.”

  He gives me a smouldering look that I’m finding impossible to resist. What is it about him? My body thrums as I feel him next to me. I think about our kiss on the beach, about him bare-chested. His tan, muscular body.

  I clear my throat.

  There are parents and kids everywhere, this is not the time or the place. And as much as my body aches to stay, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right to sneak into the hostel.

  He stands up and offers me his hand.

  “Walk you to the ute?”

  We make our way out of the party and wander back towards the car park.

  “It drives okay?”

  “Yeah. Good choice.”

  He seems suddenly a little nervous too. And when I get out my car keys, I’m not sure either what to say beyond, I can’t keep my hands off you. Or I want you right now, here in the car park.

  So, I opt to say nothing and the sile
nce becomes edgy between us, electrically charged.

  He feels it too, I can tell.

  My hand is on the truck’s door.

  “I better be off, then.”

  “Okay,” he mumbles, “Call me when you get back.”

  I turn to open the door.

  “Claire.”

  He sweeps me into his arms, his hand cradling the crook of my neck, his mouth tasting soft and sweet. A groan rumbles from deep within him as I feel the silky softness of his tousled hair and our tongues dance together in a hot, fiery kiss.

  Feeling the flames building deep within me, my hands roam over his broad shoulders following the contours of his back and down onto that spectacularly muscular chest.

  So much for Mr Nice. He presses me back against the door of the truck, kissing me intensely, passionately, ravenously. I feel his hardness against my stomach, and his hands under the slits of my dress, stroking their way up inside my thighs.

  “Easy, soldier,” I mumble, suddenly coming to my senses.

  He pulls away suddenly and punches his fists into his trousers to stop himself from touching me. It’s still broad daylight, but this time thankfully there’s no one around.

  “What is it with you?” he says shakily. “I’m sorry. I can’t help myself. You do things to me.”

  I take a deep breath, feeling the unspent desire still pulsing through my core.

  “I wish you could come back with me. I want you. All of you.”

  He rakes his hand through his hair.

  “Me too. But I can’t.”

  Ari’s off duty and with the waka celebrations, a couple of the boys are staying over through the weekend.

  “I guess, I’ll see you at the lake lodge, then.”

  I get into the truck a little unsteadily.

  “I can’t wait,” he says huskily, leaning into the ute and finding my lips for another toe-curling kiss.

  “I love you, Claire.”

  I get lost in his hooded eyes; my heart thumping, my body aching for him.

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter 16

  ---------✸---------

  “Bingo! Fuckin’ Bingo! YES!”

  The photos were undeniable.

  Claire Williams. There she was, in the crowds talking to a bloke wearing a grass skirt. Then another one of her, this time snogging him. Then, and this was the hattrick in the back of the net, a full picture of the same bloke in shorts jumping up to look straight at the camera. And man, did he look pissed off.