The Mighty Quinns: Rogan. Kate Hoffmann
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hour. Great food. You’ll love it.”
“You think of everything,” she said.
“That’s my job, Dr. Mathison.”
He left the bathroom and she listened for the room door to click shut behind him. She’d pictured this trip in her mind a thousand times since coming up with the plan, but she’d never imagined it would turn out like this. A rocky start, a sexy guide, a surprising kiss and a bad hangover. What was next?
“Certainly not sex,” she muttered to herself as she got to her feet. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, bugger.” Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes and her dark hair was a rat’s nest of tangles. She peered more closely at a brown streak on her chest, then realized it was melted chocolate. She must have eaten a candy bar before passing out last night.
“Well, you’ve created an excellent first impression.” Thank goodness her patients hadn’t seen her in this state. But Rogan had. He’d seen her at her absolute worst. Maybe that was for the best. A single kiss was one thing, but encouraging some kind of relationship with Rogan Quinn was ill-advised. She had a professional reputation to maintain and if she was mooning over the handsome guide, her group would surely notice.
Besides, where would it lead? Time after time, man after man, Claudia had managed to analyze herself out of every romantic relationship that came her way. She couldn’t seem to keep herself from picking apart every conversation, every simple gesture, every perceived problem until the relationship fell apart in front of her.
Though she’d tried to stop herself, she couldn’t. It was one of the downsides to her profession. She knew too well how the mind worked. Claudia groaned softly, bracing her hands on the edge of the counter.
But who’d said anything about a relationship? Here was a man with whom she couldn’t possibly have a future. He spent his days wandering the world, and she lived her life in an office in Sydney. If there ever was a time to indulge, this was it. It might even help give her more confidence in her work.
It felt wonderful to indulge in a bit of a flirtation and to have it reciprocated. And it didn’t have to end in bed, did it? They could kiss, they could touch and then, at the end of the week, they could part. It would be simple.
And she would maintain control, as Claudia always did in her personal relationships, never allowing herself to get too far ahead of the curve, never indulging in feelings that might never be reciprocated. It wouldn’t be any different with Rogan Quinn.
She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth. Once she’d changed into fresh jeans and a comfortable cotton shirt, her outlook had improved considerably. And though she wanted to grab a shower, Claudia couldn’t expect the group to wait any longer.
Grabbing her bag, she hurried to the lift and then rode down to the lobby. To her surprise, the group was relaxing on the sofas and everyone seemed calm and happy. Rogan was sitting with them but as soon as he saw her, he stood.
“There she is,” he said.
“Sorry I’m late. Did you explain?”
“I told them you had an emergency call from back home.” Claudia appreciated the lie. “Is everything all right?”
She sent Rogan a grateful smile. “Everything is fine. Are we ready to go? I hear we have an interesting day ahead of us.”
As they walked to the van, she caught up with Rogan. “Thank you. I usually don’t lie to them, but in this case, I think it was justified.”
“No worries,” he said.
“So what’s the plan for tonight?”
“We are going to camp at the regional park at the end of our kayak trip. It’s a pretty tame spot, but it will be a good test. I’m going to teach everyone a few survival skills, we’ll make a camp meal and then I’m going to kiss you again. After that, my plans are pretty much up to you.”
“Have you told the group?”
“About the kiss? No, but I will if you want me to.”
“About your plans for them,” she said.
He grinned. “I have. And though they’d prefer to stay at the hotel, they’re ready for a challenge.”
“It’s a fine plan,” she said. “Carry on.”
The group had loaded their luggage into the back of the van. Rogan took her bag and tucked it into an empty spot, then he placed his hand on the small of her back as they waited for everyone to choose a seat. Claudia focused on the warmth of his hand, on the sensations caused by his touch, knowing it wasn’t just a polite gesture. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her, and he was just biding his time until they were alone again.
Her pulse quickened and all the effects of her hangover seemed to disappear. She felt energized and exhilarated. She was ready to spend the day repairing her reputation as a competent therapist and getting to watch Rogan in his element.
* * *
IT HAD BEEN years since Rogan had visited the quaint village of Puhoi. It wasn’t the kind of place that usually popped up on his guiding itinerary. Just a bit too civilized for him and his usual clients. But for Claudia’s patients, it was perfect. The town had been settled by Bohemian immigrants in the mid-1800s and retained much of its European charm.
The group enjoyed a lunch at the local pub, gathered around a long wooden table filled with food and drink. To Rogan’s surprise, they were quite at ease with each other, and he came to understand that they spent every Tuesday afternoon together in group therapy, working through their individual problems.
Though Claudia hadn’t given him any specific information beyond the fact that they were working on a variety of phobias, it wasn’t difficult to discern what each of them was afraid of.
Emma, a tall thirtysomething woman, always had antibacterial wipes on hand, offering him his own pocket package shortly after they met. Millie, a pretty but shy twenty-six-year-old, avoided small spaces and would not use the lift or sit in a booth at the restaurant. And Leticia was afraid of heights. Marshall was a nervous forty-year-old who seemed obsessed with bugs. But Rogan hadn’t quite figured out Eddie’s problem yet. The skinny young man just seemed uneasy all the time.
Now on the banks of the river, Rogan stood back and watched as the group got a lesson in paddling and kayak safety by an instructor from the kayaking company. The Puhoi was a tidal river, shallow and smooth, the perfect place for novice paddlers. The presentation went without a hitch until Eddie raised the subject of crocodiles. It seemed all of Claudia’s patients had heard the story of the Kiwi bloke who’d been stalked by a giant croc in Australia and were justifiably concerned.
“I can assure you,” Rogan said, “that there are no crocs or snakes here in New Zealand. Except for a few spiders, we are free of creepy, crawly things.”
“I hate spiders.” Marshall shuddered.
“I know,” Rogan replied. “But they are notoriously bad swimmers, so if you stick to the middle of the river, you’ll be perfectly safe from them.”
Marshall seemed mollified by Rogan’s suggestion, so he moved on and spent another few minutes explaining Kiwi wildlife and its lack of any native mammal species, beyond the bat. After a long discussion about rabies and a reassurance that bats were nocturnal creatures, all five were finally ready.
As the rep from the kayaking company began to get everyone fitted for buoyancy vests, Rogan noticed that Claudia had pulled away from the group. He walked over to where she stood.
“This is wonderful,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement. “They’re so...engaged. And you’ve handled all their concerns brilliantly.”
“They do seem to wind themselves up for no reason.”
“You have no idea. This group has a very hard time putting their fears aside, for any reason, and they just have. Look at them. After