“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper. “You don’t fool me.” Leaving him feeling like an idiot, she turned and walked away. When she reached Mark, he put his arm around her shoulder as he glared back at Devin. Tough. The kid would get over it. They disappeared from sight.

A gust of wind made Devin shiver even though it wasn’t cold. Briefly, he closed his eyes, then picked up his clothes and began dressing, his movements tight, economical, verging on vicious.

Heartbreaker. He’d thrown down the challenge and it had come back to haunt him with a vengeance.

“Wait a minute!” Dimity stood up in the spa, her skin as red as an overcooked lobster, her blond hair dripping. “Aren’t you joining us?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, girls. Party’s over.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MARK SPENT MOST OF THE taxi ride back to Devin’s to pick up their bags, then to the wharf, racking his brain for something to say to make things better.

“I’ll buy the tickets,” he said when they got to the terminal. “You sit down.”

“Will you quit worrying? I’m fine.” But there was a terrible emptiness behind Rachel’s “reassuring” smile. As he waited while she made the purchase, Mark decided he’d lost some respect for Devin. Stripping down for the spa was cruel when he and Rachel had just split up. It was almost like he was trying to punish her.

When she handed Mark his ticket and led the way to the ferry, brightly lit at the end of the wooden dock, Mark overrode her protests and carried her weekend bag. Someone had to look after her.

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” he ventured. “The breakup.” Rachel stumbled over the ridged gangplank and he caught her by the elbow to steady her.

“What makes you say that?”

“You blame Devin for letting Zander smoke dope in front of me. But what could Dev do, Rachel, wrestle it away from him?”

The wind shook the electric lanterns hanging on the rail, and light wavered on her set face. “He could have sent you away.”

Mark winced. He was not a child. “Well, mostly Devin trusted me. I don’t think it was a coincidence that he showed up when he did.” Over the past five weeks they’d had frank talks about drugs and alcohol. Tonight had only confirmed that being stoned wasn’t a good look-even on someone as cool as Zander.

The interior cabin was nearly deserted. Mark recognized a few partygoers. By their shrieks of laughter, they were still partying.

Rachel backed up. “Mind if we sit outside? I know it’s windy but I need fresh air.”

She did look pale. “Sure.” They settled on a sheltered bench at the stern. The ferry chugged away from the dock; in silence they watched Waiheke’s smatter of lights recede into the distance. Mark’s thoughts turned to Auckland…and Trixie. First thing tomorrow he’d shake the information out of her if he had to. He shifted restlessly on the hard bench.

“Really, our breakup isn’t your fault,” stressed Rachel, misinterpreting his agitation.

Bracing against the bulkhead to counter the increasing swell as they hit open water, he searched for something to cheer her up. Zander said he’d give me a job when I want one. Nope, the guy wasn’t exactly top of Rachel’s hit parade. Someone at the party had even said she’d shoved him into the pool, but Mark figured that was another rumor, like Devin rejoining the-

He brightened. “Devin’s not leaving, you know. You could get back together.” But even as he offered the crumb, Mark wondered. There had been something ruthless about their parting, something final.

“It’s over.” Rachel’s flat tone confirmed his suspicions. She mustered another “dead woman walking” smile.

Mark pretended to buy the smile. “You’re still young…ish. What, twenty-nine, thirty?” Sheesh, that sounded old. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned age. But to his intense relief, Rachel smiled-a real one this time.

“Actually, Mark, I’m thirty-five in another month.”

He whistled. “Man, you don’t look anywhere near that,” he said honestly. “I mean, that’s old enough to be my mother.”

She was still smiling, but her expression seemed to freeze over.

Mark recoiled.

Staring down at her feet, she didn’t notice. “Listen,” she began awkwardly, “there’s something I need to tell you about me.”

He sucked in a great lungful of air. “You’re my birth mother.”

Rachel lifted her gaze to his. “Yes.”

Mark felt like he’d been shot. Soon it was going to hurt, but right now the shock protected him. Rachel…his mother?

Her cold hand covered his. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

He looked down. Even her hands were young. Then what she’d said registered. “Wait a minute…you knew I was looking for you?”

“Only for a week.”

“A week…” Bewildered, he stared at her then jerked away, tucking his hands under his armpits. “And you didn’t tell me?” A week ago he’d gone to her house with…“Does Devin know it’s you?”

“Yes.” She added quickly, “But the decision not to tell you straightaway was mine. He argued against it.”

Trixie had called Rachel tonight, not to ask for advice but to warn her. Everyone had betrayed him. Everyone had taken her side.

Rachel was still talking. “You see, I wanted you to get to know me properly before I told you, so that you’d be more open to listening to-”

“Excuses!” Shooting up from the bench, he stumbled on the lurching deck.

“No excuses.” Her gaze held his, raw with regret. “I should have told you earlier.”

He hated her looking at him like she cared, when she couldn’t have-not and kept the secret. The engines slowed to a throb as the ferry edged against the Auckland pier. Mark regained his balance. “Can you even imagine what it’s like to discover everything you believed about yourself is a lie?” He spat the accusation at her. “Can you?”

“No, and I’m deeply sorry.” Her hands twisted together in her lap. “But please know that I had no choice but to give you up.”

“Why?” Maybe understanding would somehow help. “Wouldn’t your parents let you keep me?”

Momentarily, her gaze dropped. “It’s…complicated.”

Complicated. Trixie had used that word. “Screw you. I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say.” Picking up his bag, he stormed back inside, letting the wind slam the door behind him.

Another bang told him Rachel had followed, so he headed for the gangway, toward the people milling on the lower deck, waiting to disembark.

“Mark, please.” Rachel clattered down the stairs behind him. “Let me tell you the circumstances.” She became aware of the curious stares and dropped her voice. “Come back to my place.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He didn’t give a damn who was listening. Let everybody know what she was like. “You were my age when you gave me up. If it happened to me, if I got a girl pregnant, I’d stay in that kid’s life no matter what.”

“Steady, mate,” advised the purser, who was standing near the exit. “Calm down, eh?”

They both ignored him.

“At seventeen, you see your choices as black-and-white, right and wrong,” said Rachel. “I did, too. And I thought if you didn’t know you were adopted-if I broke all ties-it would be easier for both of us to get on with our lives. I was wrong, Mark.”

“You think?”

The gangplank rumbled down; in relief the dozen passengers debarked, heads down in embarrassment. A couple sent back curious glances.

Mark went to follow, but Rachel barred his way. “Your parents tried to talk me out of it-until I made it a condition of the adoption. I’m just sorry that they kept their word, though it shouldn’t surprise me. They’re good people.”

“Better than you,” he said, wanting to hurt her. But she only nodded.

“That’s why I chose them.”

She wasn’t even going to fight.

He shoved all the contempt he could into his next words. “I don’t want you in my life.”