“Yes.” She got serious now. “I didn’t know you’d be acting skipper. Or leading the haka.”
“It happens sometimes. Both things, though usually not together. The haka because I’m Maori, of course.”
“And a leader,” she said. “With all that mana.”
How good did that feel to hear from her? He said, “Because I’m in the leadership group. It’s always …”
“Always what?”
“An honor.” It sounded stupid, but it was the truth. “There are bigger honors, I’m sure, but none I’ve ever felt.”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I imagine it is.” Then shivered again. “I’m going to take the world’s fastest shower, then change. Wait for me?”
“Absolutely,” he said again. “Take your time.”
She didn’t think,What am I doing?She didn’t second-guess herself at all. She was tired of it, maybe, or maybe she’d just enjoyed that too much. It had felt like her mind was touching his. Or something deeper. Her heart? Her soul? Was that even possible?
A quick shower, some product scrunched into her damp curls, then her PJs and dressing gown again, and she was down the stairs to the enormous kitchen, where Zane sat at the breakfast bar in his black tracksuit with its silver fern, his feet bare, his hair rumpled and face unshaven, with two mugs of tea in front of him. Domestic, and … not, because he’d never be a domesticated animal.
She slid in next to him and took her mug, and he asked, “Warmer?”
She smiled—slowly, because she was so relaxed—and said, “So much warmer.” She wrapped her two hands around the mug and enjoyed that, too.
“Does your hair do that naturally?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Curl the way it does. It looks like you’d have to curl it around your finger to make that happen.” He put up a hand, then hesitated. “May I?”
“Uh … sure.” Her heart was beating faster, her breath coming harder. He touched one of the curls that were already springing up, then turned his hand. Hewaswrapping his fingers around a curl, then. “It feels alive,” he said.
She couldn’t answer. How could you, with a man’s hand in your hair like that? Finally, as the moment dragged out, she said, “You didn’t shave again. Do you do that on purpose for the match? To look tougher?”
He frowned, and now, she put a hand onhischeek, rough with dark scruff. His eyes on hers, and he said, “Yes. Probably.”
“Ah,” she said, and it was a sigh. “It works.”
Now he was the one not answering. That was probably because he was kissing her. His mouth gentle on hers, his strength held back. Her hand went to his shoulder, and she was hanging on. His hand on her face, and his lips on hers. His were cool from the water, but they were burning her all the same.
She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, perched on those stools, kissing. Barely touching, and feeling so much. She was drowning in it, and then he stopped, rested his forehead against hers, laughed a little, and said, “Not doing so well on our non-involvement, eh.”
“Uh … no.” She should pull away. She should sit up. She had exactly zero desire to do either. Instead, she rubbed a cheek over his, reveling in the roughness. She put a hand on his face again, because she loved doing that, and kissed his neck, there where the scruff ended and the smooth skin began. He shuddered under her touch, and that was another hot stab of excitement.
Arms around each other now, and the kiss was hotter. Wilder. He had a hand on her lower back, pulling her into him, and she wanted to get closer, but …
“Dad!”
Oh, bloody hell.
24
FAMILY MEETING
They pulled apart so fast, only Zane’s hand on her back kept Skylar from falling straight off the stool, because she definitely teetered.
“Hi,” he said, turning to see Scarlett, knowing his voice was rougher than usual and unable to help it. “What’re you doing up? It must be after two.”
“I heard something.” Scarlett stood foursquare, hands on her hips. “Her, in the shower. Then I fell back asleep, but I thought I heard something else, so I came down.” Her eyes were accusing.
