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“Even so. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t keep you safe.”
“You’re not a gentleman,” I scoff, taking his hand as he offers it to help me climb over a fallen log. “You’re like a big cat. You’re just identifying my weak spots so you can pounce.”
“I’ve had worse insults.”
“I bet you have.”
He laughs and sets off along the track. “Jeez, this is overgrown,” he complains, brushing aside the branches leaning down from the trees. “It’s going to need some work.”
I realize the truth then. “You just want to check out the land and see what needs doing. This has nothing to do with my safety.”
“I can’t do both?”
I send him a wry look, but he’s studying the ground, obviously thinking about how the path could be improved, and maybe what it would cost.
The sun slants through the trees across him, showing that his hair is dark brown, not black, and putting gold flecks in his blue eyes. His shirt is drying out a little, but still clings to his big biceps. He’s so handsome.
I hurriedly tear my gaze away from him and concentrate on where I’m walking so I don’t fall over.
I feel a little panicky at the thought of him coming back to Kahukura. Some of the Elders will be there and will want to talk to him if they see him. And Ana will also be around. I surprise myself by feeling a flare of jealousy. Ana is prettier than me, more outgoing, and better with men. I don’t want Orson to meet her.
Then I get cross with myself. I’m being ridiculous. I don’t know why he’s coming with me anyway. I hardly need protecting.
At that point I walk straight into a tree branch and nearly decapitate myself.
“Jesus,” he says, catching my arm as I stumble. “Girl, you gotta be more careful.”
“It’s your fault,” I complain before I can think better of it.
“Why is it my fault?” he asks, amused.
Because I’m having trouble concentrating on anything else but you.
“You keep distracting me,” I complain. “Go home.”
“I’d like to look around the commune.”
“No,” I say with alarm. “Absolutely not.”
“You take visitors around, don’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then I’d like to visit. I’d like to know what you do there.”
“There won’t be any group sex sessions going on, if that’s what you’re hoping to see.”
He laughs, and our eyes meet. “I want to see your world,” he says mildly.
I hesitate. Then I say, “I don’t want you to make fun of it.”
He snorts. “Because you would never make fun of mine.”
He’s right, and I feel ashamed of that, especially now he’s told me about how hard he works, and how much he studied to get where he is.
He’s looking at me, and now he says, “I won’t make fun of the commune, I promise. I am sorry I teased you.” He frowns. “There’s something about you that…”
“That what?”