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  “All set?”

  His smile widened. “Jack MacIntosh will be here first thing in the morning to check exactly what we need done.” He leapt from his chair. “He can have his equipment here the beginning of next week.”

  “The morning?” Shannon sank onto her chair, sipping her coffee and trying to keep calm. She shared Luke’s euphoria, taking pride in knowing she’d been somewhat instrumental in seeing him progress this far with his plans. Less than a week and they could be breaking ground. “But there’s still so much to do. We have to—”

  “I know precisely what we need to show Jack. We don’t need to panic.”

  Shannon bristled. “I’m not panicking,” she argued. “Once they start digging up the place, it’ll be too late to change your plans then.”

  “I have no intention of changing any plans.”

  Shannon ground her teeth and concentrated on the steam rising from her coffee. What does it matter to me? I just work here.

  “Relax. I have it sorted.” Luke swung himself forward. “Jase asked me to consider his father, Barry, if I ever had any work that might suit, so there’ll be a bunch of kids up here throughout the school holidays clearing your tram lines for you. Barry’s going to wander over at some stage tomorrow. You can take him up and show him what you want done.”

  Warmth crept through Shannon. Up to this point, Luke hadn’t voiced approval for the tram tracks. But it now seemed he considered they could be a worthwhile addition.

  “Don’t get carried away about us having golf carts whizzing along any time soon.” Luke pretended to glare at her. “Clearing all along that cutting will give us a decent width of track to utilize. We can branch out from there to some of our other activities.”

  Shannon lowered her head, locking her gaze on her denim-clad knees rather than risk Luke seeing her eyes tear up. She still struggled with his referencing his plans as “our.” Somewhere along the line they had become her plans as well.

  “You said you knew someone into mountain racing?” he continued. “Do you have any contact with a mountain biker, too, by any chance? We need some insider knowledge into these pursuits. We don’t want to develop unworkable tracks.”

  Shannon’s heart thumped. He’d listened, and within the matter of a few hours, had willingly accepted her suggestion. With a shuddering sigh, which she guessed he hadn’t heard, Shannon acknowledged her brother’s—and her own-concern about the ethical likeness between Luke and her late husband had no grounds. Luke was as different from Eric as the sun from the moon. They might be two celestial bodies, just as Eric and Luke were both men, but that was where the likeness ended.

  Shannon cleared the lump in her throat. “I’ll text Jodie now and ask her to call me when she’s home from work. And I’ll find someone through the Southland Mountain Bike club.”

  “Great.” Luke scratched his chin. “You’re meeting with Debra McEwan tomorrow too, right?”

  Shannon swallowed. With all today’s excitement she’d forgotten her forthcoming meeting with the high-powered businesswoman. She nodded. “At nine-thirty.”

  “Well then, you may as well take the boys with you and drop them at school. Save them catching the bus so early.”

  The dread Shannon allowed to rise whenever she anticipated the meeting leveled a little. Having the boys’ chatter accompany her drive into Riversleigh would sure beat driving on her own and getting more nervous with every kilometer.

  ****

  Shannon’s fingers clenched around the handle of the old briefcase in which she’d carefully placed all the paperwork relating to Luke’s business plan. Looking up at the windows of the Riversleigh resort she took a deep breath and slammed her car door.

  “Confidence,” she whispered as she set off. Be confident. As the glass doors swished open her back straightened. This shouldn’t be near as nerve-wracking as the last time I was here, she argued. Last time Thomas and I were almost destitute.

  She glanced around the lobby, hoping Jase might be somewhere in evidence. Seeing a friendly face would help settle her nerves. While the receptionist summoned a welcoming smile, it did nothing to calm the bats clambering for escape from Shannon’s stomach.

  Why meeting with Debra McEwan should be upsetting her psyche to this extent, she didn’t know, but as the lift doors closed on her she practiced repeated deep breathing to calm herself.

  I’ve met important business people before. Not as high-powered as this one though, argued a second voice inside her head. She shook that voice aside. No matter how up themselves they might be, they’re just people. More deep breaths as the door slid open. She slowly followed the receptionist’s directions along the hallway of closed doors until she reached one at the far end that was open.

  “Good morning. Ms. Turner, is it?” A woman of indeterminable age smiled from behind a desk positioned near the window of the small room. She pointed to her right. “Ms. Laurie said for you to go right in.”

  Shannon paused, hearing talking through the half-closed door.

  “It’s okay, she’s expecting you.”

  Hesitancy caused her to tap faintly on the door. As it swung open, she caught her first sight of the property magnate.

  Debra McEwan sat behind a large, decorative mahogany desk, her dark hair drawn back into what might be a bun or chignon, Shannon couldn’t tell. A crisp white blouse under a dark business jacket helped denote her status to the nervous Shannon. The smile which crossed her face as she waved Shannon toward a plush leather lounge suite appeared more friendly than businesslike.

  As Shannon perched on the seat’s edge, she caught a mouthed word from the other woman which she took for an apology.

  Embarrassed to be listening in on what was obviously a personal call, Shannon bowed her head. More deep breathing might be in order. Shannon attempted a few more while trying not to listen.

  “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating just a little?” Debra continued the conversation into the phone clutched to her ear. “He can’t be that bad.”

  Debra’s hand jerked the phone away from her ear as a female voice squealed distinctly.

  “Okay, okay, I believe you.”

  In her peripheral vision Shannon saw drumming fingers play on the desk.

  “I can’t promise any change but I will try talking with him. Mother was planning to go up to Wellington next week anyway, perhaps she might be able to run some interference for you, too.”

  Debra’s trill of laughter tugged Shannon’s head up. The woman’s face glowed, roguish dimples visible on her cheeks. Her dark eyes twinkled with mirth.

  She didn’t project such a formidable figure, despite all Shannon had read about her since Luke had decreed they should meet. Perhaps those business reviews and gossip magazines I found online weren’t telling the real story of who Debra McEwan is.

  Debra listened some more before cutting the call short. “I have to go, Chloe. I have someone in my office. I need to stop ignoring her. Hang in there and take care of yourself and my nephew.”

  Debra laughed softly as she put the phone down. She looked across at Shannon. “I’m sorry.”

  Her rise caused Shannon to jump up, too.

  “My brother’s soon to become a father. Apparently he’s driving his wife to distraction, poor boy.” She chuckled. “Poor Chloe, I should say. She appears to need some moral support,” she offered, by way of an explanation.

  Debra extended her hand as she moved around the desk and gestured toward the chair Shannon had just vacated. Shannon clasped the hand before nervously reaching for her briefcase. “Luke asked me to meet with you—”

  “Yes, yes.” Debra leaned back and crossed her legs, a smile playing around her lips. She took Shannon’s paperwork and absently flicked through the pages. “You’ve done a good job on his business plan.”

  Heat rose into Shannon’s cheeks at the praise. “His accountant helped me a lot.”

  Debra’s eyebrows rose. “Did she? I understood from Luke it was mostly your work.” />
  Shannon’s warm face now burned as if she was flying in close proximity to the sun.

  “If I could make a couple of small suggestions?”

  Shannon grabbed a notebook and pen, ready to jot down the advice Debra shared.

  Shannon’s nervousness lessened as she’d scribbled, querying Debra’s comments where she felt the need. Having Debra acknowledge her argument that the viability of a slightly different approach in one area would work better, had built Shannon’s confidence enormously.

  “You’ll be helping Luke run this park, is that correct?”

  Shannon nodded.

  Debra was flicking through the pages again. “So what do you consider the chances are that he’ll follow anything in this plan?”

  “Honestly?”

  Again Debra’s eyebrows rose before she nodded.

  “Fair to no chance at all.”

  Debra’s spluttered laughter was infectious and Shannon found herself chuckling, too.

  “He only got me working on this”—she nodded at the papers in Debra’s hands—“because you told him he needed it. He’s never acknowledged any such need.”

  Debra gasped. “But you understand a business can’t run without structure, don’t you?”

  “Oh yes. But Luke can be a little”—Shannon struggled to find an apt word to describe his business practices. She finally settled on—“unorthodox.”

  “You’re a brave one, then. Good luck with keeping him to at least the important facets of this.”

  Shannon smiled as she took the proffered papers and pushed them back into their case.

  “Thank you for taking the time to look these over. I know Luke appreciates your advice.”

  A hand laid on her arm halted her attempt to rise.

  “Don’t go. Stay and have morning tea with me.” Debra went to the door and opened it.

  “Mary, can you order us some—” she glanced over her shoulder at Shannon. “Tea or coffee?”

  “Coffee, please,” she instructed after receiving Shannon’s preference.

  “I don’t want to take up any more of your valuable time.”

  “Nonsense, you and Luke are Jase’s friends.” She reached for her phone. “I’ll see if he’s free to join us.”

  Shannon was bewildered to find herself chatting comfortably with the woman she’d dreaded meeting less than an hour earlier. Expecting to face a ferocious jungle beast, instead Debra’s portrayal this morning was more like a contented domestic cat.

  Shannon soon heard the jingle of tea things through the half-open door just prior to a light tap. A dinner trolley entered the office followed by a tiny lady of indeterminable years dressed in a business skirt and jacket.

  “Meg? What are you doing?” Debra leaped to her feet and dashed toward the trolley. “I’ve told you not to wait on me.”

  “Who said anything about waiting? I’m only pushing a trolley.” The woman’s smile increased the number of wrinkles across her cheeks. “I took Mary’s call,” she offered an explanation. “We have a full house for lunch today so I said I’d run the trolley up.”

  Debra’s voice dropped. “So you don’t have time to join us?”

  Shannon frowned. Somehow she’d assumed Debra McEwan and disappointment didn’t go hand in hand. I must be mistaken.

  “Not today.” The woman wheeled the trolley closer to a low table near the lounge suite. “I don’t have time to be sitting around all day drinking coffee with the hierarchy. There’s work to be done downstairs.”

  Debra chuckled.

  Again not a reaction in line with the information Shannon had gleaned about her. Those reports in the gossip magazines couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Debra helped the older lady transfer mouth-watering muffins and coffee to the table next to Shannon before touching her on the arm.

  “Meg, I’d like you to meet Shannon Turner, she’s working with Luke Prescott. But maybe you already know her?” Debra shot Shannon a warm smile. “You grew up around Riversleigh, too, didn’t you?”

  Shannon nodded and at Meg’s raised eyebrows offered. “My parents were Jim and Doris McFarlane. We used to live in Tutuiti Street.”

  Meg nodded. “I remember your mother, she was older than me, but I remember her. She was a great knitter if my memory serves me.”

  Shannon smiled, more of her reserve escaping. Her mother had loved to knit. It was lovely to be reminded of something special about her.

  Debra explained, “Meg was my right hand when I first came to the resort. We had a little problem.” The smile the two women shared suggested there might be a story behind that little problem. “Meg was instrumental in helping sort it all out.”

  A touch of color brightened the older woman’s cheeks.

  “And now she runs the bar and restaurant for us.” Debra faced Meg with what might be supposed to be a fierce expression. “Being our maitre d’ is exactly why she shouldn’t be running around after me.”

  Meg moved toward the door, a smile creasing her face. “Jase was on the phone, he’ll be along any minute, I expect.”

  “Thank you Meg. Join me this afternoon if you can get away.”

  “I’ll see if I can squeeze you in,” Meg sassed over her shoulder as she left the office.

  Shannon gave her head a slight shake. The bond between these two transcended any CEO-employee relationship she could imagine—even a management-level employee—particularly given what she had been able to ascertain about Debra McEwan from her Internet surfing.

  Debra must have detected Shannon’s confusion. As she settled onto the sofa and began pouring their coffee she explained further, “I owe Meg. She took me in hand and made sure I appreciated my staff. I was so out of touch with the day-to-day running of a hotel.”

  She touched her fingers to her lips and mused, “I guess I probably never was very much in touch with any of the people working for us.” She smiled. “Meg showed me the error of my ways.”

  Shannon’s mind went blank as Debra passed her coffee. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as Jase breezed through the door.

  It was almost lunchtime before Shannon left Riversleigh. After spending such an enjoyable time chatting with Jase and Debra over coffee, Shannon laughed aloud as her car turned onto the Murihiku road.

  Why did I allow myself to get so stupidly nervous about meeting Debra? She’s warm and friendly, nothing like those stories portrayed her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shannon’s eyes searched the yard. Thomas hadn’t responded to her call but he was out here somewhere. She headed toward the shearing shed. Perhaps he’s playing with the kids in the paddock beyond.

  The bright sunlight blinded her to the inside of the implement shed as she wandered past. She paused as the sound of a quad bike firing up drew her gaze. Moving closer her eyes soon adjusted to the shadowy interior of the shed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled, sprinting forward. She didn’t care her shrill voice resembled a fishwife. Her heart raced so fast she feared it might break out of her chest and take off. Clammy hands snaked out and dragged her son off the four wheeler, almost depositing him on the dirt floor.

  So incensed, she didn’t notice the surprise on Luke’s face as she repeated the question.

  “I’m teaching him how to drive.”

  “He’s too young to learn to drive, especially something as dangerous as a quad bike.”

  Luke snorted. “For heaven’s sake, Shannon, he’s twelve years old, not a baby.”

  “Get inside,” Shannon ordered as Thomas tried to speak. The rush of color into his face might register later, but right now she was so infuriated she could barely think. How dare Luke.

  “You have no right to expose my son to dangerous pursuits—”

  “Dangerous? Driving a four-wheeler?”

  “People get killed on four-wheelers, particularly in this type of countryside.”

  “Not if they’re careful,” Luke threw back. “Not if they’ve been taught c
orrectly.”

  “I don’t care how correctly you might think you’d teach him, my son is not riding a four-wheeler. He’s not riding any horses, he’s not doing anything hazardous―”

  “He’s a growing boy, Shannon. He wants to push himself, prove what he can—”

  “Like you did when you smashed you head against that bridge?”

  Shannon’s face burned when Luke laughed. Her teeth ached. This is no laughing matter.

  “That didn’t hurt me. It taught me a valuable lesson.”

  Tempted to slap the grin off his face, Shannon fumed. “Yeah right! Well, I’m not having Thomas taught any similar valuable lessons.”

  Luke grabbed her arm as she turned to storm after Thomas. “I’m going to give you some sage advice, Shannon.”

  His fingers tightened as she opened her mouth. “No. Shut up and listen to me.” Each of the next four words was slowly and clearly enunciated. “Let that boy alone.” His eyes were pieces of slivered ice as they glared down at her. “It’s time for him to shed that cotton wool you’re smothering him with.”

  “You don’t know anything about—”

  “I know plenty,” Luke snapped back. He dropped her arm to poke at her shoulder. “I know he’s unhappy. I know he has a chip on his shoulder the size of Southland. I know he hates being mollycoddled.”

  His voice softened. “Shannon, you’ve got a smart kid underneath all that baggage you’re carrying. When are you going to stop punishing him for his father’s stupid mistakes?”

  The automatic raising of Shannon’s arm was halted by tight fingers squeezing the blood from her hand. Her heart pounded as they glared at each other, their breaths coming in short puffs.

  “Oh, what the hell,” Luke muttered.

  Before she had any idea what he intended, Luke dragged her roughly against his body and planted his lips on hers. She pushed against him, but his onslaught was merciless. His lips punished her, his tongue plundering into her mouth with deadly accuracy to entice and arouse.

  Then his hold lightened. Fingers that had been holding her in place now caressed her arms. His lips moved, encouraging a response she didn’t want to acknowledge let alone share.