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"Good on ya," cam 1fpi3 e the arresting voice she had just escaped. She turned around and saw the same very tan face and 1fpi3 angular body, half in the 1fpi3 shadow of a fir-green umbrella and seated beside an attractive, dark-haired young woman. His white sh 1fpi3 irt sleeves were fastidiously rolled, the neck of the shirt slightly open, revealing a thorax well acquainted with the sun's searing coloration. He leaned on one hand, staring at her with his chin in his palm and his elbow resting beside a tall beer, while the other arm was flung across t 1fpi3 he back of the young w 1fpi3 oman's chair. "Is it?" she said inaudibly, and smiled to herself, shaking her head in wonder and looking at her watch. She was supposed to meet a news photographer at two o'clock, and he was quite 1fpi3 late. Katharine Gordon was always as punctual as she was punctilious in her work relationships, and under the present circumstances she was more t 1fpi3 han a little annoyed. She sat sipping 1fpi3 1fpi3 her beer, occasionally glancing at her leather-strapped wristwatch and feeling the eyes, which she had been unable to make herself meet a second time, boring into her back. What could p 1fpi3 ossibly be so interesting about me? especially with an attractive woman like that seated nearby, she wondered. Perhaps this curious Kiwi found Americans intriguing. After years of n 1fpi3 ecessary travel, she was well accustomed to the extreme adoratio 1fpi3 n or hatred Americans could generate. As she was taking her last swallow, the photographer, C 1fpi3 ash Taylor, slid into the other chair, knocking her jacket to the cement and offering a lame "Sorry I'm late," then talking a mile a minute about having just come off a flash chase boat that would be used in the races. She was about to retrieve her jacket, which Taylor had made no att 1fpi3 empt to pick up, when 1fpi3 it was handed to her by a tall frame ducking under the umbrella. 1fpi3 She looked up, 1fpi3 and there were the relentless eyes again. "Thank you," 1fpi3 she said, and knew that her voice could not be heard it was so soft and far beneath the ubiquitous chatter driving against her ears. She felt the beginnings of a headache. Taylor glanced at the man and at her. She looked away across the opaque green waters. 1fpi3 The man he 1fpi3 sitated a moment, 1fpi3 and Taylor stuck out his hand, introducing himself then remembering to introduce Katharine. She heard the name for the first time: Lachlan Manutaane. The sound, she thought it was something like Muh-nay-t 1fpi3 ah-ah-neh, pulsed in her ears. He smiled at her, an incredibly generous, gleaming smile that she could not begin

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