Page 141 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

I continue to do that long after she’s fallen asleep, just wanting to touch her and commit her to memory.

If I let her go, one day another man will do this to her. Another guy will hold her, kiss her, take her to bed, slide inside her, and make her come. And he’ll hold her after they’ve been intimate, and whisper in the dark how much he loves her.

I look out at the stars, and it’s a long time before I fall asleep.

*

The next day is a busy day onboard. At eleven I have my main presentation, and Elora takes a seat in the theater to watch as I lecture on the excavation of early Anglo-Saxon sites in the UK, as some of the techniques employed there are useful for early Maori sites here in New Zealand, which primarily involve natural building materials.

After the lecture and the questions that follow, she comes up and gives me a hug and whispers, “That was so hot, watching you.”

I chuckle and nuzzle her ear, and I’m about to suggest we go back to our cabin when Alethea comes up and says in a teasing tone, “Put her down, Linc. No time for that. The board wants to talk to you about establishing a regular communication, and delivering some online lectures via Zoom, if you’re up for it.”

Surprised, I follow her into the next room, Elora in tow, and spend an enjoyable hour listening to them trying to convince me to give regular lectures on my time at iDigBritain via Zoom. I’m more than amenable to the idea and promise to contact Alethea when I return to the UK to set up a calendar.

I don’t miss that Elora goes quiet when I mention going back to England, but she doesn’t talk about it afterward, and we don’t revisit the subject.

We punctuate lectures and panel discussions with frequent trips outside to look at the magnificent scenery as the ship sails up the coast of the Fiordland National Park. It’s the wettest climate in New Zealand here, and the rain falls steadily, interspersed with brief sunny periods that bring rainbows out over the many waterfalls.

We help ourselves to a magnificent buffet lunch and take our plates outside so we can eat while we sail serenely past the stunning view. A fiord is a geological word meaning an ice-carved landscape that’s been inundated by water—lakes, streams, waterfalls, and rivers—all surrounded by lush rainforest and the backdrop of the cloud-topped mountains.

We take hundreds of photos and video footage of the scenery and of the dolphins, penguins, and seals we spot along the way.

Around four p.m., the ship enters Milford Sound, called Piopiotahi in Maori—a sixteen-kilometer or ten-mile inlet leading up to the small settlement of the same name. This was the place Elora and I read about when we were kids, lying in the makeshift tent while we leafed through the atlas. We lean on the railings, looking up at towering Mitre Peak, at Stirling and Bowen waterfalls that tumble down its sides, and down at the dark, inky, mysterious waters as the ship carves through them. To our delight, we’re treated to the sight of a Hector’s Dolphin—the smallest dolphin in the world, and for a while a group of bottlenose dolphins swims by the ship, one leaping out to take a look at us.

“It gives me the shivers to think about Atticus Bell sailing here back in the 1860s,” Elora says, “looking for a piece of greenstone for the girl he loved.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Hinerangi. It means sky-girl or heavenly-girl.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“I think so.”

“You’re my Hinerangi,” I tell her, thinking how lovely she looks with the bright blue sky behind her, a rainbow arching over her head, conjured by the light passing through the waterfall.

She looks up at me with her big blue eyes and swallows. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

“Heavenly girl.” I take a strand of her hair and slide my fingers down it. Then I lean forward and murmur in her ear, “well, not last night, obviously.”

She pushes me. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“I like embarrassing you. You go all pink and flustered.” I kiss her, and she gets exasperated, then gives in and loops her arms around my neck.

When I finally release her lips, I move behind her and slide my arms around her waist, and we watch the scenery passing by together.

“I wonder whether Maureen will have the ring,” she whispers.

“Even if she hasn’t, I’m so glad you came with me.”

“Me too. It’s been a lot of fun.”

I kiss the top of her head. We both know the adventure is close to ending. Soon we’ll have to return to the real world, and then it’ll be time to make decisions and sort out what we’re going to do.

But not yet. It’s not quite time for Future Linc to have to step up.

We stay leaning on the railings while the ship sails all the way up the Sound, and then finally, around seven p.m., we make our way to our cabin to pack ready for disembarking. Most of the passengers are staying for the trip across the Tasman to Australia, and when the ship docks and we head to the exit, we find Alethea and many of the others waiting to say goodbye, which we both find quite touching.

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