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  Chelsey Jones, Max’s marketing manager, paced away from Max toward the window, but Max knew she wasn’t admiring the view. She stood with her hands on her suited hips, blonde hair smoothed into a French twist, as elegant as ever, but unusually disconcerted.

  “Damn!” she added for good luck before turning back to Max. “They made the booking under another name. I had no idea.”

  “Rachel tells me Laura and her team are out of here the day after tomorrow.” He tapped a finger irritably on the wooden armrest of the couch. “If only we’d known we could have capitalized on her visit with some publicity of our own.”

  She shook her head. “I know. I’m sorry, Max. I dropped the ball. I should have been on to it as soon as they arrived. But I was in Wanaka and…”

  As irritated as he was that they’d let the opportunity slip through their fingers, Max couldn’t stay angry with Chelsey for long. They went back a long way and, from the slight droop of her shoulders, he could see she was more angry with herself. “That’s okay. Everyone’s entitled to time off.”

  She turned to face him, her expression stern. “No, it’s not all right. If I’d only known I could have arranged some meetings… a few situations to showcase the Lodge and all it has to offer. I could have done what you employed me to do—make Queenstown Lodge the place to be in the Southern Hemisphere.”

  He rose and went to her and laid his hand on her tense shoulders. “Chill, it’s okay.” He lifted her chin so she was forced to face him. “But tell me…”

  She frowned. “Yes?”

  “Why only the Southern Hemisphere?”

  She smiled and stood straighter. “Because your ego needs to be contained, Max Connelly.” She paced away from Max once more, tapping her cellphone against her lips.

  Max sighed. It was always a bad sign when Chelsey was deep in thought. It usually meant work for him. She turned and caught his gaze.

  “What can we do to keep her here?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “She doesn’t strike me as the sort of person you can keep anywhere.”

  “If you can make her stay for at least a week, that’ll give me time to get some national media attention.”

  “She’s on YouTube all the time. Won’t that do?”

  “Not by itself. We need to get you two together, engage the media, and get them pointing to Laura’s YouTube channel, and it should snowball from there.”

  “Me and Laura. Together.”

  “You know what I mean. Judging by the video clips from this afternoon, it’s not going to be hard for either of you.”

  “You think a little flirtation would be good for business.” He didn’t phrase it as a question. He knew it was what they were both thinking. He also felt unaccountably ill at ease with the idea.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you have qualms about that, because I won’t believe you. Business always comes first with you.”

  “You know me so well.”

  She walked up to him, and tapped her cellphone on his chest. “Yes, I do.”

  She looked up at him with a wistfulness which disarmed him. He’d called off their relationship a year ago and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to do enough to recompense for the hurt he’d caused her—a hurt that rarely showed through. He’d thought he saw a glimpse of it now, but it was too quickly gone to be sure.

  “I’ll get in contact with Kelly, Laura’s PA,” Chelsey continued. “If she’s as smart an operator as I think she is, she’ll see the benefit in staying around for another week. Leave it with me. You go and flirt outrageously with Laura and I’ll do the rest.”

  “You’re using me for my sex appeal, Chelsey.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”

  “True,” he said, walking toward the door. “We all have to play to our strengths.”

  He closed the door on Chelsey’s groan.

  * * *

  Max’s meeting with Chelsey had made him late for dinner. He paused on the threshold of the restaurant and looked around. The place was packed with Lodge guests and casual diners enjoying the finest wines and food prepared by the French chef he’d persuaded to move here. The chandeliers glittered overhead, sparking light from the crystal glassware. The concertina windows were pushed back to allow the cool night air into the warm room.

  He was proud of the Lodge, what it had been, and what it had become. He’d built on the old-fashioned charm of the original Lodge, keeping its character but bringing it into the twenty-first century. But his ambitions for it hadn’t stopped—not by a long way.

  A quick scan revealed Rachel sitting next to Laura, surrounded by others. Ignoring Rachel’s knowing grin, he walked over, persuaded the person sitting on Laura’s other side to leave with the lure of free wine, and took the place himself.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “And what if I say no?” said Laura.

  “Then you’ll have to inform the owner who, I’m afraid, has my best interests at heart.”

  “Maybe I will,” she said, sitting back, an eyebrow raised in query. “What do you think he’ll do about it?”

  He flashed a quick smile at the waitress who set a new place for him. “Probably tell you that you should reconsider.”

  “Really? And why should I?” She leaned in toward him, flirtatiously. “Is he such great company? Is he so utterly charming, witty, and interesting?”

  Max raised his eyebrows. “He’s all that but, more importantly, he’ll sulk if you don’t let him sit beside you. And you really don’t want to see a grown man sulk.”

  Laura laughed, a laugh that wrapped around inside him and gave a sharp tug. It was adorable—strangely natural and innocent for all her worldliness and flirtatious, danger-seeking nature. “You’re right. I don’t. You’d better make yourself comfortable then.”

  Max signaled the waiter who brought him a plate of hors d’oeuvres. He helped himself as a wine waiter poured him a large glass of his favorite Central Otago pinot noir. “So how are you enjoying Queenstown?”

  “It’s wonderful. It has everything I love here. Extreme sports, beautiful scenery, but with an airport so you can escape to the city if you want to. I could live here.”

  “You should.”

  “No, I won’t. What I mean is, if I had another job, another personality, another life, I could live here.” She shook her head. “But I don’t settle.”

  “I can understand that. I only returned here a year ago after traveling pretty much constantly overseas.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Everything. Made money through various businesses. Tried my hand at different things.”

  “Successful?”

  “Yep. Made enough to buy this place and some other properties in the area.”

  “So why come back?”

  Max didn’t speak immediately. He drank from his glass and put it down carefully on the table before turning to her. “I’d had enough. I wanted to stop, spend time with my family, my friends. I wanted to know them. I wanted to know this place. After a while, traveling becomes tedious. You must find that.”

  Laura looked uncomfortable. “Not really. I find it exciting. Besides, I like to keep things simple. And it’s simpler to keep moving.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That sounds kind of… restless.” She didn’t respond. “You don’t find that way of life lonely at all?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m always surrounded by people.”

  He looked around. “And you’re close to all these people?”

  Whether it was the way he’d asked the question, or the question itself, something made her pause. Her green eyes flickered over his and he could see enticing glimpses of doubt behind the bravado. Bravado was alluring, but doubt was intriguing.

  “No,” she said. “Only a couple of them. The rest are”—she shrugged—“just there. That’s enough for me.”

  “Really?” he asked gently, his curiosity piqued by her response. “And I thought I
liked a minimalist life.”

  She raised an eyebrow and indicated all around with her glass of soda water. “Minimalist? With all this? You’re kidding me!”

  “Good point. This is probably the least minimalist part of my life. I came here with some mates a year ago and, once I’d seen this place again, I couldn’t let it go.”

  “You fell in love with it.” She looked around. “I’m not surprised—it’s a wonderful place.”

  “Oh, I’d fallen for it over thirty years ago.” He smiled at her confusion. “You see, it belonged to my grandparents. My mother used to bring me here as a youngster to get me away from my dad.”

  Laura shot him an interested look. “You don’t get on with your dad?”

  “No. Still don’t. Anyhow, this place meant more to me growing up than my own home. My grandparents died while I was overseas and it was left to a cousin of mine. Mom was gone by then and Dad wasn’t interested. But when I came back here the place was falling into ruin.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t walk away from it.”

  “So you bought it off your cousin?”

  “Yeah. He was relieved. He had no interest in it and had been trying to sell it for years. But it needed a lot of money pouring into it.”

  “So… you poured the money in and you’ve made a wonderful place. But…” She hesitated.

  “Go on,” Max prompted. “Ask away.”

  “But why? I wouldn’t have taken you for the sentimental type. And you’re so far away from most other countries it must be hard to keep it commercially viable.”

  Max didn’t answer immediately. Was he sentimental? He’d never thought of himself like that but it was true, he’d done it because, somewhere deep down, he’d heard his mother’s voice saying it was the right thing to do. He’d always been guided by that voice because it had never failed him.

  “I’m not sentimental. I do what I think is right. Simple as that. And it’s going just fine. And we have plans. Big plans.”

  “You’re going to make your grandparents proud.”

  He nodded. And his mother. Though he wasn’t going to tell Laura that. She might call him sentimental again and he had an image to maintain.

  “They’d be pleased. It was the holiday place to come to in the 1920s, when my great-grandparents ran it. And if you think it’s out of the way now, you should have tried to get here then. It took a week to get here from Christchurch and half of that was from Cromwell, where the rail line ended. It was a challenge all right.”

  “One I’d have been up for.” She grinned.

  He smiled back. “You know? I can just imagine you here, in the middle of last century, clipping on your wooden skis, trekking out to get wood for the fire.”

  “Right. I get the picture. You see me as some kind of pioneer, a colonial woman come to claim her place in the world. I’d have liked everything except the claiming part. I don’t want to claim anything for my own.”

  “Looks pretty much like you’ve claimed the world if the number of views on YouTube are anything to go by.”

  She raised her chin. “You’ve been checking me out online.” She grunted softly. He liked the sound. It made him think of how it would feel if she grunted close to his ear, with her body pressed… He cleared his throat.

  “Simply keeping myself informed about my visitors.”

  She pushed away her empty plate and sat back in her chair, nursing her glass of soda water, and shot him a challenging look. “So tell me, what have you learned about me?”

  “I’m pretty sure you know what I’ve learned about you. Your life is an open book. But I can read between the lines,” he said, unable to resist teasing her.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Between the lines? Nothing there but empty white space, I should imagine.”

  “Should you? Then you’d be wrong.” He paused, intrigued by the flash of doubt which lurked behind her eyes—darker, more mysterious now. He liked mystery, and he also liked women.

  Her phone beeped and she picked it up. “Excuse me.” She rose and walked outside. He watched her as she went and realized he wasn’t alone. Those diners who hadn’t moved to the bar next door, were glancing her way. She had that knack of making people look at her, without revealing a shred of self-consciousness.

  She returned to the table, sliding the phone onto it, and cocked her head to one side. “So, it seems Kelly wants me to extend our stay a week. Kelly and your marketing manager believe it’ll be good for business.”

  “You okay with that?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Is there enough around here to keep me occupied for a week?”

  Just the thought of how he could keep her occupied made his lips twitch into a barely concealed smile. “I’m sure of it. Lots of things to explore. Lots of attractions.”

  “Is that right?”

  “I can guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself.”

  “Well”—she rose out of her chair and turned, arms crossed under her perfectly formed breasts—“in that case, how can I refuse?” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked across the room, toward the door. “Goodnight,” she called without turning around.

  “Goodnight.” He watched her walk, barefoot, along the wooden veranda, her long blonde hair skimming her back and shoulders. His gaze dropped to her rear, perfectly enhanced by the worn jeans. He groaned and ordered another drink.

  This was going to be an interesting week.

  2

  “Who’s that man flirting with Laura? And, more importantly, what’s she going to do about it?” @TellTaleGirl #romanceisintheair

  There was no sign of Laura the next morning which was just as well. It meant he could focus, or at least try to focus on his other guests, and his family. He adored spending time with his little niece, Aimee, which he and Rachel purposely did, giving the newly loved-up Lizzi time with his good mate, Pete. He really wanted it to work out for them.

  But, as much as he enjoyed being with Aimee, he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder whenever he heard a shout, or a group of people approach. Because he’d worked out that Laura was never alone, her entrance was always heralded by an excited buzz of voices and laughter. He wondered whether her need for company extended to the bedroom. Despite her flirtatious nature, there were no scandals surrounding her, no talk of lovers, spurned or otherwise.

  After lunch he and Rachel waved off his sister, Lizzi, Pete and Aimee before returning to the Lodge’s terrace. Rachel’s phone rang and she stopped suddenly, looked at the phone, bit her lip and glanced up at Max with a heartbreaking expression of sadness and anger. The phone stopped ringing and she sighed with relief. But before she could slip it back into her pocket, a text came through. She read it, grunted with anger and tossed the phone onto the table. It landed with a clatter.

  “Not in the mood for a phone call?”

  She turned to him with surprise, her expression grim. “You could say that.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not sure there’s much point.”

  “Try it and we’ll see if a point eventuates.”

  She shrugged. “My latest fling. Except I didn’t realize it was only a fling until now. I don’t know why I always end up with men I work with.”

  “Cameraman or director?”

  “Cameraman,” she said with a sigh. “I held such high hopes for him. Turned out the reason he wanted that revealing photo of me was to put it on his Facebook page.”

  “Bastard! What’s his name?” Max was incensed.

  She patted his arm. “Thank you, big brother. But you can’t go and sort it out like you used to in the playground.”

  “Want to bet?” Max was ready to jump onto the next plane and make sure this pathetic individual was never able to upset his sister again.

  “No, actually I don’t. But I don’t want you to do anything. I’ve dealt with it.”

  Max grunted and turned to look at the view, his gaze narrowed as he wondered, not for the first time, why his gorgeous sisters—both Rachel
and Lizzi—had such trouble with men. It wasn’t because they weren’t strong. They managed to sort him out all right.

  “Did you fire him?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “So at least he won’t be there when you get back to Wellington.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going back to Wellington. This is just one time too many. I need a change.”

  “From your TV show? But you’ve worked so hard on that. Built it up from nothing.” Max couldn’t imagine his little sister, who’d been dubbed New Zealand’s answer to Nigella Lawson, doing anything different.

  “No, I’m not going to give up my career. But I may take it some place else. I’ve had approaches from the US.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah. But there’s a few issues to iron out so I’m going to head home to Belendroit for a while before going overseas. I haven’t spent any length of time there for years.”

  “Dad will appreciate your company. Not sure how long you’ll be able to stand it though, not after your show-biz life in Wellington.”

  “At the moment a non-show-biz life, hundreds of miles from Wellington, sounds pretty damn good. At least for a while.”

  “Then do it.”

  She glanced at her phone and nodded. “I think I will.” She gave him a hug and chucked him under the chin. His sisters were the only people he’d ever accept that from. “You don’t mind if I clear out early?”

  “Do what you have to do. How long do you think you’ll stay at Akaroa?”

  “I’m not sure. There are a few things I want to do there—six months tops.”

  He watched her walk away. “Call me!”

  Rachel waved a hand of acknowledgement. “Sure thing.”

  Suddenly a phone went and he looked down. It was Rachel’s. He picked it up and looked at it. The face of the caller looked up at him. Max turned it on and prepared to put the fear of God into Rachel’s ex.

  Satisfied that Rachel wouldn’t be bothered by her ex anymore, Max returned to his office. His sanctuary.

  Chelsey teased him about it—called his style ‘grunge-minimalist’. He didn’t mind, she could call it whatever she wanted, so long as she didn’t try to prettify anything. One old couch placed in front of an open fire, an over-sized screen, and fridge and other gadgets hidden behind a bank of seamless doors, was all there was. It was enough.