Jaded Lydia alias Katie

"I'm off to get us lunch," he said, pulling a rug over Lydia. "Why don't you have a kip?"

"Oh, could you get some more condoms from the shop. I only had a four-pack with me."

"I'm going out to the reef for catch a snapper for our lunch, but I'll hop into the village although buying those will give me a bad reputation as people will know you are more than a house guest."

Lydia giggled. "Well, I'm confident I'm clean, what about you?"

"I've not been anywhere to give me anxiety, though one never knows."

Lydia said then perhaps they should not bother with condoms and Taylor agreed, looking very happy as he just loved giving his lady of the moment a full blast and then later to see the result oozing. It was not a delectable sight for some perhaps, but it stroked his ego and rounded off the moments of lust.

Taylor launched the 12ft aluminium dinghy with its 25hp outboard motor and returned in just under twenty minutes with two legal-sized snapper and figured one would do for their lunch. He slipped into the bach quietly in case Lydia was asleep - she was, soundly.

He pulled on a pair of walking shorts, grabbed his wallet and when into the village to use a pay phone. When going to the hideaway, he never took a cell phone and banned guests using theirs, arguing it couldn't be a true hideaway if one remained in contact with the rest of the world and, more importantly, cell phones could be used as tracking devices.

In the village, Taylor phoned Cindy (Cynthia) Younger, a retired fashion model who lived in the hill beyond the village in a fabulous home with her much older husband, a semi-retired banker.

"Hi, I heard you were here at the beach with a most beautiful woman, you naughty boy, but the rumour is she'd older than you."

"You're four years older than me but that hasn't stopped you tumbling into my bed," Taylor laughed.

"Well, that's my fault for bringing up the question of age, darling. I guessed I asked for that put-down."

"Come on, Cindy, that was me just pulling your tit."

"I'd like you to be doing that again soon, Taylor. I'm really missing you. When can I meet this, err, client?"

"Tomorrow night, dinner at your place."

"Tomorrow, that's fine. I'll invite two or three other couples. There's never a shortage of takers as people in this remote paradise is afflicted with boredom."

"That's great, but Cindy, could you limit it to people who know how to behave in the company of big celebrities."

"You conceited asshole, is that what you're calling yourself these days," laughed Cindy, knowing instantly that a big surprise was about to be revealed.

"She's incognito, Cindy, recovering from a huge emotional overload and a fucking awful winter in London. She's Katie O'Shea, THE Katie O'Shea."

"Omigod, Taylor, and you're fucking her. Oh, this is unbelievable."

"I didn't say I was doing that, Cindy..."

"She's got the three minimum requirements for you, Taylor: she's female with tits and two legs."

"That's an uncharitable comment and you're defaming my dear new friend."

"I know, and aren't I wicked, darling? I can't wait until tomorrow evening, so let's make an early start, say six-thirty?"

"Marvellous and she is going under the pseudonym of Lydia Valencia."

"That was the name of her character in her second film, 'Pirates of Cádiz'. How sweet."

"She's lovely Cindy but she needs to be treated with loving care; try not to get any aggressive people near her. I'll bring some fish and wine."

"No wine, darling, Laurence had a cellar that he'll not manage to drink dry in his remaining lifetime."

"How is he?"

"Remarkably well. I've long accepted that I would end up fucking him to death as there's not a great deal to do around her if you don't like golf, going to the pub, bridge or fishing."

"I'm glad he's coping, as you're the sort of gal who needs company. Until tomorrow night, then."

"Bye, and thanks for the big surprise."

Lydia slept after lunch until almost 4.00 and sighed, thinking she felt oh so good.

Taylor picked her up off the bed after she'd called to him and carried her down into the water. He then put her into the dinghy and they slowly motored out beyond the reef, Lydia protested they should put clothes on if leaving the privacy of the bay. But that just earned a smile from her frisky and unconventional man.

Taylor picked up a light rod with a spinner attached, fed it out and handed the rod to Lydia, cutting the speed of the boat back to 4.5 knots.

Fifteen minutes of going up and down the shoreline, beyond the bay being mostly eroded cliffs, the rod suddenly jerked in Lydia's hands and she screamed.

Taylor calmed Lydia down, altered the drag on the reel and told her as she reeled the line in to keep watching the water about fifty feet beyond where the line when into the water.

Lydia squeaked in awe as she watched the kahawai, a small game fish called a sea trout by some fishers in other lands, broach and rise two to three feet into the air before splashing into the sea on its side and ripping off in another strong run.

"I've lost it; I've lost it," wailed Lydia.

"Hold the fucking rod tip up and wind in the reel as it's probably still hooked and is coming towards you."

Lydia wound the reel furiously.

"I feel it, I feel it, it's still there!"

A few minutes later the fish was against the side of the boat.

Taylor cut the motor and went forward, grabbed the line and lifted out the streamlined bluey-green and silver fish which looked about 2 kg, he thought.

"Your choice: we take it home and dump it in the bait freezer or we let it go."

"Oh, the beautiful creature, we must let it go."

Taylor let it go, rinsing his hands before hugging Lydia.

"How was that, exciting?"

"It was thrilling. It's the first fish I've ever caught."

"Eeek!" yelled Lydia, pointing. "Sharks!"

Ten to twelve fins were slicing through the water towards them.

To her horror Taylor, after taking one look at them, dove into the water and went deep, Lydia screaming as she watched the fins disappear as the fish went down after the diver.

Taylor surfaced and Lydia screamed, "What are you doing, are you mad?"

"I'm swimming with the dolphins. Come and join me."

Relieved but still frightened, Lydia was then terrified by a sudden splash right alongside the boat behind her. Turning she saw the dolphins had resurfaced and several had most of their backs out of the water, then in the clear water she saw one swimming fast and it came clear out of the water, did a somersault and landed back in the water wish a splash.

"Lean over on that side," Taylor called, "I'm coming aboard."

As he came to her aboard, Lydia hugged him, ignoring the wetness.

"I was so scared, I really thought they were sharks."

"We do have sharks, including bronze whalers, but these guys belong to a larger pod that come around here a lot. Twenty-two varieties of dolphins and whales have been identified in this the Hauraki Gulf."

"That makes the gulf a marine playground."

"Sure is, and don't people especially boaties know it. There are seventy-two islands in the gulf."

They returned home and Taylor cooked fish and as the sunset faded just before 9 o'clock, they went inside to escape the insect invasion. Lydia invited Taylor to her bed and after another bout of gentle fucking, they fell asleep.

The next day Taylor hauled the jet ski down to the water and after taking Lydia for an exhilarating ride taught her how to operate it and before long, she was going solo and carrying on like a larrikin.

After a salad of tomatoes, gherkins and defrosted crabmeat and prawns eaten leisurely while a bottle of chardonnay was emptied, Lydia was sent to bed and was told to have a good sleep because they would be going out later for dinner.

"By why, it's glorious here?"

"Because I want to see you in stockings. It's formal."

Lydia had assumed they were going to a restaurant and was surprised when the taxi Taylor had ordered while in the village the previous day, took them past the only restaurant in the village and began climbing steeply towards the only house she would see.

They had a lovely time and only the hostess Cindy was aware of the real identity of the foreign guest. Before the evening was done, Cindy's invitation to Lydia to go shopping with her the next day was accepted.

"We'll be waiting at the beginning of the track down to the bach at 9:15 as we have to be on the beach reserve before 9.30 for the chopper."

"What, we're going shopping by helicopter?"

"Yes, over to Auckland as it's a business trip for Lawrence so his corporate client will be paying for our transport. We fly back at 4.00."

When they met next morning, Lydia said, "That was a lovely evening and those people were real characters. Amy really has a soft spot for you."

"Amy? How do you know that?"

"I see the way she glances at you; attempted concealed glances say it all."

"Hmm," said Cindy and glancing at her watch said, "Where's the fucking chopper and Laurence cocked an ear and said, "I hear a flap-flap."

Seconds later the aircraft rose above a coastal ridge and roared toward them.

While lunching late at a discreet restaurant in the waterfront Wynyard Quarter that as under re-development, they were recognised and photographed unnoticed by an English travel agent who alerted local news media.

Cindy noticed the quiet arrival of a film crew and dropped $200 on the table and said, "Come on, let's go. Hurry."

"But I'm waiting for my coffee

Cindy pointed to the van double-parked outside the window opposite them and said, "The news media is arriving."

"Oh damn," Lydia groaned.

They fled through the kitchen and made their exit from an emergency exit door.

They found a taxi and went to Mission Bay and stayed drinking coffee under shade cloth at a coffee bar, opening shopping bags and discussing their purchases until it was time to go to meet Laurence at the helicopter base to return home across the Hauraki Gulf.

Read to here

The days turned into weeks and no longer jaded Katie O'Shea painfully packed, preparing to leave, watched by her lover who wore a perpetual smile to hide his pain. He knew he'd miss the best client who'd ever engaged him and his best lover ever.

But he knew even good things come to an end.

At the airport, Katie had a pass to enter the VIP lounge but Taylor was without one because he had no ticketing.

The security guy at the door thrust out an arm to prevent Taylor from proceeding.

Katie turned to watch what would happen, making no attempt to intervene, thinking this could prove interesting.

It was, although passively.

Taylor handed the native guy his ID and said sarcastically he supposed the 'heavy' could read.

The guy's mouth tightened but when he read the name on the document, he breathed in awe and said, "So you are Taylor Novak, the legendary Taylor Novak. Pass with my compliments, buddy."

Katie clutched her man as they entered the lounge and whispered, "It made me so proud to hear you being called a legend in unmistakeable awe."

"It's nothing Katie. People who mouth stuff like that tend to be readers of Marvel Comics."

She giggled as they sat and said, "I'm surprised you never asked me about my film career and the successes I've had."

"That was because my brief was to help restore you to good health and so my focus was entirely on that. No way did I wish to encourage you to wallow into talking about your failures and your successes, as behind every success would be huge periods of exhausting work that we call hard yakka, plus despair and disappointments. Reminding you about that would not be the right thing to do."

"Omigod," Katie said, looking at Taylor in awe.

They enjoyed their final 20 minutes together, holding hands and chatting while sipping coffee.

A hostess arrived to escort her to her aircraft.

"This is it," Katie cried, hugging her minder.

"It is," Taylor said. "We had a great time, eh?"

"Yes, but then you have had many other clients."

"True, but you surpassed them all."

The hostess led Katie to her seat in the First-Class cabin.

Katie was sobbing.

"I viewed you on breakfast TV this morning describing your wonderful 6-week stay in New Zealand, Miss O'Shea and we women I was with all giggled when you were asked what appealed you most, and you replied with a huge smile it was the men and swimming in the sea nude when it was mid-winter in your homeland, England. I'm prepared to bet that excerpt from the film clip of that interview is likely to be picked up by some TV stations all over the world.

"Thanks, Sylvie. That makes me feel a little better. But my heart is broken."

"Perhaps I should tell you this, Miss O'Shea as you may not be aware of it. That man you just left is in love with you."

"What!" Katie gasped.

"Keep calm, and think that if you want him enough it may happen. Begin be writing to him weekly, a letter rather than an impersonal email and use perfumed paper. If you continue writing long enough, before too long there could be knock on your door."

"You mean it would be him?"

"Could be, or perhaps you may have to try an incentive."

"Like what, Sylvie?"

"One suggestion is to post him a pair of your panties, fresh ones of course. He appears to me to be a real man."

"Omigod, you darling," Katie said, clutching the hostess's hand and squeezing it. She felt so happy.

The End