‘I can’t believe I left my mobile phone at home,’ she said, annoyed with herself. ‘Elise should still be at home at this hour. Her fiancé plays Rugby League Sunday afternoons now that the season has started. Elise loves to cheer him on.’
Jared scooped up the bacon and shared it between two plates. ‘Rugby League style of football is such a dangerous game. There are many injuries. They have such little protection.’
‘But it’s so exciting! Phil plays on the wing and when he makes a break down the side-line, then dives in the corner to score a try, it certainly gives an adrenaline rush more than anything I know.’
‘More than anything?’ he mocked wryly and gave her a challenging glance.
‘Certainly not. I mean, yes. Oh!’ She blushed in confusion, knowing exactly what he meant.
‘You look so beautiful when you blush.’
The comment only made her cheeks rosier. ‘I’ll set the table,’ she said, doing her best to ignore his virile body and potent scent.
He cracked three eggs into the fry-pan. ‘You still have a few moments to make your call,’ he said.
‘Can I take some juice with me?’ she asked, her stomach rumbling.
He nodded and handed her a glass of it.
Accidentally brushing his finger-tips, instantly zapped her with a spark of awareness so powerful, she almost dropped the glass. She had to get away, before she did something far worse than drop a glass.
‘Thanks,’ she murmured, taking a quick sip. ‘Sweet!’ The homestead was quiet, as she pirouetted and rushed out into the hallway, so out-of-sorts, she didn’t have a clue where she was going.
Kirra opened the first door she came upon and slipped inside. The room was dark and she groped on the wall for the light switch. When her fingers felt a familiar lump, she flicked it and the room came alive in the vibrant glow of an antique chandelier.
The furniture and décor was all chocolate brown and beige. So masculine and business-like, it was such a stark contrast from the rest of the homestead.
There was a wooden door engraved with the word, ‘Surgery’ at the rear of the room. Though tempted, she didn’t open it.
An old-fashioned upright telephone stood proudly on the chunky walnut desk which looked out of place beside the modern technologies of computer and all-in-one printer, fax and scanner. Behind it, there was a ceiling-high wall of books on shelves and there were stacks of newspapers in the corner. An overwhelming sense of intrusion flowed through her. It was definitely his room - his retreat.
A few newspapers lay opened in front of the leather high-backed chair on the desk. Absentmindedly, her eyes flicked over them while she dialled Elise’s number.
Shock waves of realisation rippled through her and a flare of outrage made her slam the receiver down before it was answered.
The newspapers were all Brisbane Bulletins! Every last one of them. All were opened on pages where her previous articles were printed.
How dare he check up on her?
What was he expecting to find? A serial she’d written about her past romantic adventures? Did he think he would be the next Prince Charming of the newspapers? She’d already told him that she wrote fact, not fiction. And she thought he might be starting to respect her. Ha!
As her eyes rolled up in disgust, something glinted and caught her eye. She reached up and plucked a small gold-framed photograph from one of the middle bookshelves.
Simmering down a little, she examined the picture with a trained, investigative eye. A young, pixie-faced woman looked away from the person taking the photo. The redhead, sitting on a hospital bed, looked like she’d just given birth. Pale-skinned and freckled, she held out a newborn baby away from her. It was an odd photo. Why would Jared choose to display such a photo? It wasn’t a happy snap. Surely, there were more flattering photos taken of them?
Was this his wife and son? Come to think of it, this was the only photograph she’d seen in the entire house. It had to be them.
His wife seemed plainer than she’d expected. She didn’t seem at all his type. But then, what was his type? Not that she cared. Maybe, she’d also responded to a newspaper ad for a wife.
Kirra carefully replaced the photograph back in its exact position.
Calmer, she redialled Elise’s number.
As she waited, her eyes trailed over Jared’s extensive, well-used library of textbooks and fiction. Many were related to veterinary science, she noted.
Elise’s cheery voice came on the line.
Kirra glanced down at the newspapers again. ‘Hi Elise. It’s Kirra. What needs to be changed in the article? Length? Material?’ This was the journalist in her talking now - calm, precise, business-like.
‘Oh, it … it was too long.’
‘Can’t Reece edit it?’
‘He already has. I … I just wanted to see if your new man was more important than your job.’
‘That’s absurd!’
‘He sounds dishy on the phone. Phil reckons it must be love at first sight if you’re still there after two days.’
Kirra sighed. ‘I have no choice. It’s flooding out here and the bridge is cut.’
‘How wonderful!’ she clucked. ‘You could be there indefinitely with dishy Jared.’
Suspicion spiked in her mind. ‘You sound so familiar with him. On first name basis are we?’
‘He answered the phone yesterday,’ she said, then rushed on. ‘Jared Glengarry - veterinarian. If his voice is anything to go by, he must be stunning in the flesh. What’s his son like?’
‘Caleb is holidaying on the Gold Coast with his grandmother.’
‘Wow! So it’s just you and him alone together. How absolutely cosy?’
‘It’s not cosy at all!’ she refuted hotly. ‘He’s got me milking cows!’
Elise laughed. ‘I can’t imagine it.’
‘Well, it’s true.’ Her voice became hoarse with emotion and she inhaled deeply.
‘Kirra, are you alright? Do you want me to call a Rescue Helicopter to save you from him?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. They have more important things to do. I’ll be okay. If the situation becomes intolerable, I can always commandeer his dinghy or take up mountain-climbing.’
‘Is it really that bad?’ Elise sounded glum.
‘No. I’ll manage. If nothing else comes of this little adventure, at least I can write an article on how to milk cows,’ she joked dryly.
‘Well, I’ll see you when you get back. Don’t forget if you want to be rescued just give me a call.’
‘I don’t think that will be necessary. Jared is a gentleman, I’ll give him that.’
‘Thank you,’ his low, amused voice cut in.
Kirra’s face coloured crimson again. She said a quick her goodbye and put the receiver down.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Were you eavesdropping?’
‘No,’ he said, giving her a teasing smile. ‘I came to ask how many slices of toast you’d like.’
‘Oh.’ Embarrassed, her eyes lowered to the newspapers and she her outrage re-flared from when she first came into the room. She looked up and met his eyes with a piercing gaze. ‘Why have you opened all these newspapers at my articles?’
Jared folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. ‘To be frank … curiosity. I also thought they may assist you with your rewrite.’
‘Each story is different,’ she pointed out stiffly.
‘Yes, I see you mainly do human interest stories.’
She detected a touch of cynicism in his tone. ‘When I feel there has been an injustice done.’
‘You won’t find any injustices here, Kirra.’
‘Really?’ She glanced up at the photograph on the bookshelf, then back at him.
His dark eyebrows crowded together. ‘I see you don’t waste any time.’
‘Was she hired help too?’
His grey-blue eyes hardened to steel.
‘Well?’ She folded her arms across her breasts.
&nbs
p; ‘Well, nothing. I see through your ruse. You’re a determined woman, Kirra, I’ll give you that,’ he ground out. ‘But you’ll never dig up any dirt on me to print in your precious newspaper.’
‘Is that so?’ She exhaled heavily in frustration. ‘You accused me of bottling up my grief before. What about you? You’re doing exactly the same thing. I bet you haven’t spoken to anyone about your marriage either.’
‘And nor do I want to. There is nothing to tell. I’ve accepted Heather’s death,’ he said flatly. ‘Now, come and eat your breakfast before I change my mind about feeding you.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
‘Don’t try my patience, Kirra.’
‘Fine.’
He disappeared back into the kitchen and she followed him in, chewing hungrily on her bottom lip.
She must have sounded like an ungrateful shrew. What right did she have to jump to conclusions? To pry? It only drew her down to his level. She was capable of more diplomacy than that. Surely? But why did she feel always on the back foot with him?
With renewed purpose, as she headed back to the kitchen, she drilled herself to stay away from any more questions of a personal nature. He’d opened his home to her. If she had to stay with him indefinitely, it made sense not to antagonise him.
Taking a seat at the breakfast table, she watched him hold up two slices of bread towards her. Absolutely famished, she nodded and he dropped them in the toaster.
It was then she noticed that there were purple shadows under his eyes. Was he also sleep-deprived? Could that be affecting his demeanour?
‘I … I’m sorry for assuming the worst where your wife was concerned,’ she found herself apologising. ‘You seemed to think my husband was having an affair, but I had no right -’
‘Exactly,’ he cut in, as the toast popped. He pulled them out and buttered them on the plate.
She waited for an apology from him, but none was forthcoming.
Couldn’t he at least meet her halfway?
She shoved her spoon into the bowl of cereal, then poured milk from the jug onto the crispy flakes. Spooning some into her mouth, she crunched noisily to release her frustration.
When he brought the hot meal to the table, she was feeling more even-tempered. ‘Thank you. This smells wonderful.’
His steel-blue eyes softened to grey, as he sat down adjacent to her. ‘You’re welcome.’
He ate hungrily. As he forked bacon into his mouth, Kirra’s eyes were drawn to his hands. They were large and she remember how it felt to be caught by them in the milking shed. She found herself wanting to be held in his arms again and she didn’t trust herself to speak.
‘After breakfast, I’ll take ‘Blinky’ out for some exercise to check the state of the bridge. That should give you some peace and quiet to rewrite your article.’
‘Ah. . .’ Kirra paused for a moment. She couldn’t tell him that it was all a ruse by Elise. He would only think less of them both, so instead she asked, ‘Whose ‘Blinky’?’
‘My horse. Never ask a four year old to name your animals.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she refuted. ‘It’s a cute name.’
He grunted. ‘Don’t let Caleb hear that.’
Kirra swallowed some of the delicious egg. ‘And why not? Children like to hear that their fathers approve of their choices. It gives them self-worth.’
‘How come you know so much about children?’ He forked more bacon into his mouth.
‘My cousin has three little darlings under six. I used to baby-sit them often to give Gabi and Kyle some couple time.’
‘On the weekends?’
‘Yes.’
‘How convenient? Sounds like an excuse to side-step your martial problems to me.’
‘My marital problems?’ Her temper flared. ’I didn’t let Zac down or avoid him if that’s what you mean … No, yes I did! I didn’t try hard enough to fit in with his lifestyle.’
‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’
The back of her mouth dry all at once, Kirra swallowed down a gulp of juice. ‘That was an underhanded trick! You’re really determined to find out about Zac and me, aren’t you? Yet you won’t tell me anything about you and Heather.’ She stood, tears burning at the back of her eyes. ‘If you must know, I failed at marriage. Failed miserably. I drove Zac away because I wanted a family straight away. I hope your curiosity is satisfied. Now, I’ve lost my appetite so it looks like you have an added bonus, doesn’t it?’
Kirra veered around the table, but wasn’t quick enough to dodge his large hand that gripped hers, halting her in her tracks.
His touch set her pulses racing. She wanted to pull away, but he gently rubbed the inside of her wrist with his thumb, as if trying to calm her.
‘I didn’t force you to tell me, Kirra,’ he said soothingly. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Marriage is a two-way street. From what you’ve told me about Zac, he wasn’t putting much effort into the marriage. Maybe, you were simply incompatible.’
Kirra’s shoulder dropped and she sighed. Elise had told her that. According to her, Virgo and Aries weren’t the most compatible of astrological signs. A mother-and-son type relationship.
Kirra cringed inwardly and somehow, she knew that Jared sensed it. His chair scraped on the timber floor, as she watched him, stunned in the headlights like a kangaroo at dusk on a country road. He stood slowly and brought her hand up to his chest. The narrow gorge of air between them intensified with the same electric chemistry she’d felt in the milking shed.
She looked up at him through lowered eyelashes. ‘You must think me a hard, scheming woman.’
He half-smiled. ‘On the outside.’
‘And on the inside?’
‘I think you’re very strong and kind, but oh so sensitive.’ He slid his hand so their palms met squarely, then entwined his fingers comfortably in hers.
The intimate gesture caused Kirra’s pulse to escalate alarmingly.
‘I think you could have a very enjoyable stay with me if you pulled down that superficial veil of yours.’
‘And be one of your harem of nannies that you bed, then dismiss under the flimsy excuse of neglecting your son. No nanny would do that while you’re away milking the cows for half the day.’
The words said in haste battered hard against his rugged face. His eyes hardened to steel. ‘Why do you persist in finding the same faults in me as in your husband? We are two very different people. Do you group all men in the same basket?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t known any other men closely beside Zac and my father.’
Jared dropped his hand, the intimacy lost again to her jumping to conclusions. ‘Why don’t you sit back down and tell me about them?’ His voice softened with compassion, disarming her again. ‘I know you’re still hungry.’
‘I am hungry,’ she admitted and sat back down. ’But it doesn’t mean I’ll tell you anymore.’
‘Fair enough.’ Jared reclaimed his seat and casually finished eating his breakfast.
Kirra was infuriated. ‘Well, if you must know, my father was very much the head of the family. He was strong, fair and jovial. After completing my Degree in Journalism, I moved out of home to marry Zac. To me, he seemed the same as my father.’
‘How did you meet Zac?’
‘He was at university when I started there. He was studying Business Management. When he graduated, he received this great job opportunity to manage a Gold Coast Resort.’
‘And what about your career, Kirra? Did he take that into consideration?’
‘No, though I didn’t mind. I was keen to start a family with thoughts of resuming my career when I was older . . . but I never did conceive,’ she said sadly. ‘I was fertile, but Zac refused to have any tests. After I gave up trying to have a baby, I half-heartedly answered an ad for a journalist in a local newspaper. I was offered the job. Then, I was head-hunted for the Brisbane Bulletin. I’ve been there for four years now.’
‘And Zac, did he turn out to
be the strong, fair and jovial type?’
‘Oh, he was strong-willed alright and the life of every party, but his only fairness was his blonde hair. He was so irresponsibly impulsive,’ she spat out. ‘He was different before we started living together.’
Anger firing through her blood, she forked a crunchy strip of bacon into her mouth, chewed and swallowed, scraping the back of her throat, as if punishing herself for her stupidity. ‘If I hadn’t had a job and paid the mortgage on our apartment,’ she blurted out, ‘we would have been -’
‘On the street,’ he supplied knowingly.
‘He accused me of being miserly… and boring.’ Her fork slipped out of her hand and clattered onto her plate.
She took a breath and closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to think about it anymore.
‘Are you okay, Kirra?’
Kirra swallowed her emotions. Down, down, down they went until she felt her stomach roil. She shuddered involuntarily.
As quick as a stock-whip cracking, Jared stood and drew her up into his comforting arms. ‘I‘m sorry,’ he whispered in a low, calming tone, his feathered breath rustling the top of her hair like a hot summer breeze.
After a time, the tears came and she sobbed quietly against his broad chest.
His hand gently smoothed over her head, soothing her frazzled nerves.
‘You have a good head for business, Kirra,’ he muttered, ‘from some of the articles you’ve written. Sensible, I’d call you, not miserly … and I certainly find you far from boring.’
She pulled away from him, taking deep breaths to regain her composure. Her gaze narrowed, when he reached up and wiped away her tears from her cheeks, his thumbs working like giant, windscreen wiper blades. He gave her a reassuring smile and his hands settled on her shoulders.
Kirra’s tongue went dry and her mouth fell open, as his warm, caring touch penetrated the flimsy, silken material of her top. She looked up at him in puzzlement, full of conflicting emotions. Her mind felt at peace, but his touch was wreaking havoc through her entire body.
His grey-blue eyes darkened with desire and without drawing her into his body, bent his head down and brushed her bottom lip with a kiss, as if testing her resistance.
Kirra was so shocked she let it happen, even wanted it to happen. She leaned into him, wanting more.
The Outback Cattleman's Hired Wife Page 6
