Thomas came to awareness with anticipation. Birds twittered outside, and he could feel the sunlight caress his face as he lay snuggled in a warm bed. Things felt right. Except for one thing. With eyes still closed, his fingers marched across the crisp, white linen, searching for their prey. They found ... nothing.

The palm of his hand bounced back and forth against the mattress. Empty. He pushed up and blinked, then let out a chuckle and flopped back down. The git must have fallen asleep on the couch.

A smile stretched his lips as he thought about waking her with fresh coffee or an English Breakfast tea, and... yes, pancakes. He could cook those, surely.

But for now, the necessary called.

He groaned as he levered his legs over the edge of the bed, his muscles cramped and tendons tight. The strands of his hair felt longer as he combed them back. Beatrice would hate that. He grinned; Nadia didn't care. Nor did he, for that matter.

Done, he located his briefs from behind a chair, and, for a moment, considered walking downstairs in his full morning glory, but decided not to risk Murphy's Law — or the eyes of an unwitting maid — and bent over to retrieve them.

A mess greeted his eyes from the landing. Scattered cushions, a few dirty dishes, and no Nadia.

Unease prickled from the tip of his head to the base of his spine. He rushed down the stairs and picked up his iPad. When he unlocked the cracked screen, he read the email from Beatrice and took in an image that made his eyes goggle. She had pulled out the big guns, literally, zoomed and in and in full Victoria Secrets magnificence.

The tablet fell to the floor.

The next day, Thomas darted through the dense crowd of Lima airport. It buzzed with energy. Despite the early hour, the building was full: tourists of all shapes and sizes, professionals in slick suits pulling wheelie bags and airport staff off to work. He stopped, jumped to the left, launched diagonally forward, zipped around a morbidly obese man and despaired.

How in the hell was he supposed to find her? He stopped and fisted his hair, starting to pace. A little girl with big brown eyes stared up at him, mouth wide. Her mother muttered something in Spanish and yanked her away.

Calm yourself, Waterhouse. She has to be here.

She had to be. He had ruled out every other scenario — and the check-in desks had opened. Could she be boarding a plane even as he delayed? Please God, no.

After finding the email, he had hopped into his slacks and ran to the reception. The staff had confirmed his suspicions — a bleary-eyed Nadia had ordered a cab to the bus terminal. By the time he got there, she'd already left.

He'd hot tailed it back to the hotel and checked the browser history. The smashed display verified his worst fears: she'd searched the flight options from Lima to Adelaide, but got no further. The stubborn woman likely waited until she arrived in Lima and bought the cheapest, last-minute deal there. The problem was, planes didn't fly directly to Australia — they left via an almost infinite number of routes.

The bus to Lima took at least eighteen hours. So more like twenty-four — quite possibly sixteen. Flying was much quicker. After that, she would need to make her way to the terminal with plenty of time to check-in. Or, too much time. A sleepy Jacquie had assured him Nadia had not turned up on their doorstep. Here then. She must be here.

He grimaced at the thought of her waiting outside in the cold. Not that the luxury of his room did him much good. He'd barely slept a wink. Instead, he'd paced to and fro, between the foyer and the terminal, as if practising for this very moment.

Where was Diego? Thomas' feet tapped on the polished tiles as he made his way over to the security guard. The erratic beat of his heart faded a notch as he took action, but his ears still throbbed, and his hands felt like blown up balloons as he breathed in and out on shallow puffs of air.

The tall man shrugged his shoulders when Thomas stopped him. "Disculpe, señor, nada."

Thomas slumped. "Gracias." And left Diego to continue to go search out some caffeine.

A few minutes later, the aroma of burnt coffee wafted into his nostrils, and he winced. Sadly, it's this or matchsticks, he told his eyes. Nervous energy had its limits, and he was almost ready to drop to the floor. The scalding liquid slapped him awake, though, and he ran a tongue over his teeth to dislodge the pieces of grit, shuddering.

"Señor! Señor!"

Diego's' head bobbed above the crush. Thomas dropped his paper cup, ignoring the brown puddle growing at his feet.

"Venga, conmigo!" The man waved at Thomas and dragged him by the arm, pushing through the press.

Then Thomas saw her, hunched beneath her pack, almost at the front of a queue at the Air New Zealand check-in counter.

"Gracias. Gracias!" Thomas said. Fumbling, he pulled out a wad of cash and slipped it into Diego's pocket.

A shining gold tooth twinkled under the bright lights. "Va!" Diego said, and then called something quick and loud to the check-in-staff a moment before he pulled back the barrier.

Thomas didn't think twice. The haze of wavy, light-brown hair ahead of him was replaced by a bruised face and dull-slate eyes.

"Nadia!"

Her eyes widened. Up close, the blood-shot whites made her irises flash with green sparks. "Why are you here?" she asked with a brisk tone.

Thomas' stomach clenched. "For you, of course."

"Huh!" She hiked her pack and turned on her heels. "Just go back to the Belmond, Thomas."

He seized her shoulder and spun her back around.

"I want you — not her! Even if you're acting like a crazy woman."

"A crazy —"

Snatching her hand, he pulled. "Come!" Nadia resisted, but he refused to let go. "Stop behaving like a child. You've had me at my wits end the last twenty-four hours, let alone the last two weeks. The least you can do is give me five minutes of your time to explain myself."

Diego lifted the barrier up again and winked as they moved past him. Thomas nodded back and strode to an empty corner.

The second they got there, Nadia's fists started to pound on his chest. "You bastard! You mother-fucking bastard!"

Thomas struggled for her wrists, clucking to quiet her. A different member of security started to head over, but Diego stopped the man, and seconds later, the two of them began to snigger.

"Nadia, Nadia. Stop that!"

"You're as bad as the rest of them. Typical, fucking —"

"Nadia!"

Finally, he snared her wrists and shook her until she stilled.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, glaring down at the top of a quivering matt of hair. "Oh, for goodness sake, will you just look at me?"

With his forefinger, he tipped her head up and regarded a pink face with lips curled back over teeth.

"I'm not a fucking child!" she said, stomping a foot.

Thomas raised his brows and maintained her red-hot gaze until her lids flickered down.

"What about Beatrice? Did you take a bloody minute to think about her?"

"I couldn't give a damn about her."

"So why is she sending you pictures of her tits?"

Thomas snorted, wiped his face, then raked his hand through his hair. "Because she's a vain, deluded woman, and I should never have dated her in the first place."

Her head jerked up. "Dated?"

"Humph, I'm glad to hear you got your tenses straight. D.A.T.E.D. Dated."

"Well, why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

It was his turn to widen his eyes. "Why didn't I tell you?" He started to pace. "Why? I'll tell you why. Because you ran into the night like some loon and I didn't know where the hell you were."

Her mouth compressed, and a lump rose up and down her neck.

"So, what do you have to say?" he asked, staring her down.

Seconds crawled past before she answered, fists clamped. This time there was a waver in her voice. "Well, what do you frickin' expect me to think when I see an email like that?"

"If you hadn't snooped in my things, you wouldn't have seen it." Her eyes narrowed, causing him to flinch, but he pressed on. "More importantly, if you'd bothered to read the rest of the thread, or better, woken me up, the explanation would have been quite forthcoming." He sighed, as the tight coil in his chest turned. "Did you honestly think I would do that to you?"

Her eyes started to water. "Huh — you wouldn't be the first."

He drew closer to her, and this time she didn't back away. Even wearing her enormous backpack, she fitted perfectly into his arms, head resting into the curve where his collarbone joined his chest. A tremble rolled through her body, turning into a shiver as drops of warm water collected in the hollow of his neck. She smelled of artificial apple and the mustiness of a packed bus. He squeezed her tighter, wanting to pull her into his very being.

After a time, she relaxed. He tilted her back and brushed his lips across her forehead. "Come on. You look like you're due for a good sleep." She stiffened again. "Nadia?" A pounding grew in his head. What now?

She held out her tickets. "These are non-refundable, Thomas."

He could have laughed, but her face sobered him. "I have more than enough."

"And I have my self-respect."

"You're hardly a gold digger, Nadia."

"I know that, but ..." She chewed her lip as she mulled over her words. "I don't want to be dependent on you either."

A wash of cold swept through his body, and his eyes started to prick. "Please," he croaked, in a just audible whisper, and pressed her hands. "Please, I need you."

"What?"

"Please, Nadia."

"Why? It's not like you're in love with me." She laughed nervously and held her hand's palm outwards. "No, it's too soon, Thomas. We hardly know each other. I'm not falling for that love-at-first-sight mumbo jumbo ever again."

"Why not? I've never met anyone like you. You're smart, willful and eccentric. A breath of fresh air. You don't try to control me — well not too much — or tell me how to speak and dress." He gulped down the golf ball wedged in his wind-pipe. "But more than that, I do feel something around you. Like I could do anything ... and I could help you do the same."

Thomas fought the urge to look at the tiles, his cheeks heating. "Hell, stranger things happen, Nadia. Perhaps it's just infatuation now, but there is one thing I know: if it isn't love now, it could be. And I plan to find out." He squared his shoulders. "If you get on that plane, I'll find a way to follow you."

The constriction in his throat tightened. With eyes burning, he used the sleeve of his pullover to wipe away tears as he tried to read her emotions. He was failing.

"I'm not like him, you know. I don't want to control you. I'll make sure you can leave whenever you want." He heard her intake of breath. "Consider it an interest-free loan, if you like. But, Nadia, don't make this about money or pride." He stroked his hand gently down her face, holding her eyes, watching them settle. "It's about giving what we have a chance. Don't let it sway us when it doesn't have to. Please. I am nothing like him. Don't treat me like I am. I don't want to lose you."

She didn't respond at first. Just stared at him, her mind ticking away as the silence extended between them. The airport continued to move, a hive of restless activity: clicking heels, whirring wheels and multiple conversations. Everyone else around them oblivious to this crucial moment.

An announcement sounded, first in Spanish, then in English, and burst their bubble. "The last call for Air New Zealand flight LX184 to Christchurch, please make your way to check-in."

Times up, he thought and resolved to give it one more shot.

"I wanted to know you the second I saw you." He paused. Her eyes were shimmering, drawing the truth out of him. "We have something special, and I think I could come to love you for a damned-long time."

He stepped towards her again and pulled her against him. She came, trembling under his hands. "But there's only one way to find out." Carefully, he unclipped her daypack, kissing her as he did. It landed with a thump. His fingers sought the clips around her chest and waist, and his mouth moved across the edge of her face. When he reached her ear, he breathed, "Yes?"

She nodded.

"Really?"

A sob escaped her mouth. He'd never seen her speechless before — probably never would again. Best make the most of the opportunity, he decided and scrambled to untangle her from the straps of the huge bag on her back, then scooped her into his arms. Swinging her around, he kissed her until they fell into the wall, a giggling tangle of limbs, heedless of the stares of the people passing by.

When the world stopped spinning, Thomas spotted a thumbs up from Diego and sent one back.

"So, what do we do now?" Nadia asked.

He planted a kiss on her hand, then the inside of her wrist, and held it against his cheek as he decided. Bending down, he swung up her backpack and guided her to the exit.

"First food," he said, "then sleep. After, we decide where to go next."

She stopped. He turned to look at her. "Is there something wrong?"

"Your plan."

Ice shot through his veins until he caught the flicker in her darkening eyes.

"You forgot the most important thing, Thomas." A broad grin broke across her face, as she leaned forward and cupped her hand to his ear and whispered.

The tips of his ears burned. He measured the distance to the hotel room, estimating how long it would take to slam the door behind them. Once again, he grabbed her hand and tugged.

"Come on!"

She did. Together, they ran.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Disculpe, señor, nada — Sorry, sir, nothing

Gracias — Thank you

Venga, conmigo — Come with me

Va — Go

Image by Alejandra Quiroz on Unsplash.com