by Valerie Parv
Gradually her breathing returned to normal and she turned her head to smile at Tom, lying as limply as she, his body pressed tightly against her. They had tumbled over the edge at almost the same moment. She’d thought she cried out his name, but she couldn’t be sure. At the time, her world had been spinning too fast for conscious thought.
“Are you okay?” he asked as his heated gaze met hers.
She suspected her own gaze was as hot. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I was afraid I was being too rough with you.”
“I’m not as fragile as I look.”
His mouth slanted into a smile. “Consider me convinced.”
She pretended an embarrassment she didn’t feel, although part of her wondered if she should. “Now you’ll think I’m a wanton woman.”
He cupped her chin and lifted himself to kiss her firmly. “If it’s always as good as this, you can be as wanton as you like.”
“You’re teasing me.”
“No, I’m stating a fact. In Australia, provided you’re both consenting adults, there are far worse sins than making love out of wedlock.”
“Such as?”
“Running out of beer or money.”
She smiled. “Then I should be grateful we got our priorities right.”
He levered himself over her to kiss her again. When he lifted his head, he said, “Our priorities are perfect. In fact, I’m inclined to test them again.”
Feeling the pressure of his burgeoning arousal against her, she widened her gaze. “Already?”
A small frown wrinkled his forehead. “Unless it’s too soon for you.”
She linked her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. “I told you, I’m not as fragile as I look.”
He nuzzled her cheek. “You’re also a fast learner.”
“Is that a compliment?”
He shook his head. “It’s a statement of fact. There can’t be another woman in the world like you.”
“Now, that must be a compliment.”
“Nope, another fact. Along with how much I want you right now.”
She was already well aware of it, and this time she didn’t allow him to go slowly. As soon as he came to her, she wrapped her legs around him, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere for the longest time.
When the world finally stopped spinning again, she looked at Tom, sleeping peacefully, his limbs entwined with hers. She wondered if he knew how boyish he looked when he relaxed completely.
A lock of dark hair fell across his face and he stirred as she brushed it out of his eyes. She looked down at the marks of initiation standing proud on his chest. He was a desert warrior, her desert warrior, responsible for initiating her into his own kind of tribalism. She felt drained of energy, and every muscle ached, including a few she hadn’t known she possessed, but she also felt elated. Whatever happened between them after this, she would never regret making love with him.
He opened his eyes and caught her studying him. “What?”
“I was thinking how cute you look when you’re asleep.”
He groaned. “No man likes to be called cute.”
“Virile, then.”
“After today I may never feel virile again.”
“Maybe I should have been gentler with you.”
He laughed. “Princess, you’re really getting the hang of this. The man who marries you will be one lucky devil.”
Her insides constricted in protest. She’d thought—
No, she’d been sure he was the man for her. Was she wrong? Her joy evaporated, leaving confusion in its wake. “I thought by sharing your bed, I was also committing to sharing your future,” she said, keeping her voice carefully emotionless when what she really wanted to do was hurl something heavy and breakable at a wall.
“We made love not wedding plans,” he said, sounding strained.
“And in Australia, that isn’t a sin,” she parroted, adding, “even so, I thought you cared about me.”
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I do care about you, enough not to let you make plans that include me.”
“Do you think I care that your father’s in prison?” she shouted. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Talk to me, don’t turn your back on me.”
She grabbed his shoulder, desperate to have him look at her, and was stunned when he swung around and caught her hand, forcing her arm down. Her elbow screamed in protest but she kept her cry to a faint whimper.
He heard it and stared in horror at his hand clamped around her wrist. When he freed her, the marks of his fingers remained. She saw the blood drain from his features. “This was a mistake,” he said.
His raw tone flayed her. “What part? The lovemaking, or my expectations?”
“All of it.”
She lifted a shaking hand. “For pity’s sake, don’t apologize. What we shared was wonderful and beautiful. I won’t believe it was wrong.”
He passed a hand across his eyes. “You’re right, it was wonderful. But it’s still a mistake and I made it.”
“No,” she denied angrily. “You didn’t force me into anything I didn’t want to do willingly.” Remembering how willingly, she felt heat flood into her neck and face until she drove it down. “This isn’t about me at all. Whatever you think I’d find unacceptable in you is really something you can’t accept about yourself, isn’t it?”
His angry gaze raked her. “Didn’t you see what I just did? I almost broke your wrist.”
Her heart was in far greater danger, she suspected. “You stopped,” she pointed out. What was this all about?
He stood up and reached for his clothes. “Yes, I stopped, this time. Next time you might not get off so lightly.”
“Why, Tom? What is it you think you might do?” she asked, but the bathroom door slammed between them, cutting her off.
Chapter 13
Next time you might not get off so lightly.
His words resonated through her as she clutched a sheet around herself. What made him think she’d gotten off lightly this time? Her body ached, both from him and for him, but her thoughts were in the greatest turmoil.
No regrets whatever the outcome, she’d vowed. She hadn’t counted on Tom simply walking away. She knew she was reacting from her own history. In many countries these days, lovemaking was regarded almost as a recreation. It was different in Q’aresh. There, physical love was sanctioned only between two people who were committed to each other.
Clearly Tom wasn’t committed to her. It would help if he told her the reason. She’d made it clear she didn’t hold his father’s record against him. Was it her position? He’d called her princess with affection, and it hadn’t stopped him from taking her to bed.
Perhaps it was simply the wrong time. The specter of Jamal hovered over them both. And Tom had many concerns with his foster father’s illness and the threat to his home from their neighbor. In her country, men usually put their affairs above personal matters, so there was no reason to feel so slighted.
She could be grown-up about this, she decided. If time was the problem, it would also be the solution. Above all, women of her desert clan knew how to be patient. She would wait until their other problems were resolved, then she would talk to Tom and make him tell her why he considered this an ending rather than a beginning.
In the meantime, she wouldn’t let anger sully what they’d shared. She now knew the great secret between men and women, and she understood why it was celebrated in story and song. With the right man—and Tom had been more right than she’d imagined—the experience was incomparable.
After the first few awkward moments, having him undress her and touch her had felt as natural as breathing. Her skin still felt flushed and her body tender. But they were good feelings. She refused to condemn herself for something she knew in her heart was right.
Tom cared for her and she cared for him. What the future held, she didn’t know, but somehow he would be a part of her future. She knew it as
surely as she knew the sun would rise every morning. All she had to do was convince him.
She pulled on one of the T-shirt dresses over her jeans for maximum protection from the sun. Her explorations turned up several pairs of shoes, and she smiled at the impracticality of wearing the strappy confections in the outback. Rejecting them, she retrieved the dusty sports shoes and put them back on. She could almost see her father’s frown of disapproval. Not that he would approve of anything she’d done lately, she thought with a pang. Would she ever see her home and family again?
Dismissing the sadness, she rummaged through the closet for the most practical clothes to take with her. She stopped as Tom emerged from the bathroom dressed in his ranger’s uniform. He seemed to have reached a similar decision to hers, for he made no reference to their lovemaking, although she saw his glance go to the chaos of the double bed.
He looked at the cotton shirt and pants in her hands. “Is that all you’re packing?”
She was foolishly pleased to hear him sounding less than steady. She thought of the designer clothes in the closet. Most were unsuitable for the outback. The makeup would slide off her face as soon as she applied it. There was no sign of the jewelry case she usually kept aboard. Jamal must have it. “We could take some of the food supplies,” she suggested.
Tom slanted her an odd look, and she felt elated. Had he expected her to act the shrew, ranting over his lack of promises? He’d made promises, she’d decided, only he didn’t know it yet. With his body, he’d shown her a future she was determined to have. She wanted his children. She wanted him.
All in good time.
In the main cabin he filled a bag with food and drink then went around shutting everything off. “No sense wasting the generator. We won’t be back here until Jamal is dealt with,” he said. “Once the plane is repaired, you can use it to return home.”
She met his gaze unflinchingly. “I intend to ask my grandmother to send me the title deeds and put the plane up for sale. When I find a buyer, there will be enough money to repay your family’s kindness, including your foster father’s medical care.”
“Money doesn’t solve everything,” Tom replied, his tone rough. “Horvath has big ambitions. Even a share of the proceeds of this plane might not be enough to satisfy them. Assuming you can establish clear title to it.”
Worry furrowed her forehead. “You think I might not?”
“I think Jamal is more devious than you’re giving him credit for. He isn’t the type to leave you such an easy way out.”
“I should have considered that. He’s already taken the jewels I usually keep aboard.” Then she had another thought. “There’s a supply of cash in various currencies kept in the safe.”
She went to the framed etching that concealed a small safe, slid it aside and keyed in the combination. “The cash is gone, too,” she said. An envelope was all that remained inside. She took it out and opened it, feeling herself turn pale. “This is a letter from my father to Jamal, confirming his ownership of the plane.”
“You mean like a dowry?” Tom asked.
She clasped her hands together. “Not precisely. In my country, a woman’s wealth is held in trust by her parents until she marries and has a man to help her manage her affairs.” Bitterness colored her tone. “My father is so sure I’ll soon be Jamal’s wife that he has already started handing my life over to him.”
Tom raked a hand through his hair. “What happens if the marriage plan falls through?”
“To avoid that, every couple goes through a traditional two hundred-day engagement steeped in rituals.”
“And you and Jamal had already started this ritual engagement?” Tom surmised.
“One hundred and eighty days to be exact. That’s how I got close enough to Jamal to discover his evil plan.” Then a new thought occurred to her. “Do you think Jamal wanted us to gain access to the plane?”
Tom’s thumbnail worried at his lower lip. “It was convenient. He may have set it up as bait, hoping that you’d try to get on board. I should have thought of the possibility long before.”
But she had distracted him. She had also led them both into the trap, if such it was. She pushed the guilt away. If she let herself feel badly about what she and Tom had shared, she gave Jamal power over her. “If it is a trap, why did he shoot at the plane?” she asked.
“It may have been for show. His aim was suspiciously bad. Maybe he didn’t intend to hit anything.”
“Then his plan has already gone awry. He may track me down through the plane but he can’t fly it anywhere until it is repaired.”
“By which time you’ll be well away from here,” Tom assured her.
“I’m not leaving,” she said quietly.
He stared at her. “What?”
“We’re in this fix because you insisted on sending me away to safety,” she said. “As long as Jamal stalks me, nowhere is safe. I intend to stay until I have the evidence to condemn him.”
Tom’s mouth twitched. “Very noble, but it won’t take him long to find someone who saw the plane heading this way. As soon as it’s repaired, he’ll have the means to drag you back to Q’aresh.”
“Assuming he still wants me. I’m—” she chose her words with care “—no longer pure.”
Tom’s gaze grew heated. “He’ll want you. Men may say they want to marry virgins, but the truth is sometimes different. Experience has its advantages.”
Thinking of what kind of experience he meant, she fought to keep from blushing. The woman Tom would marry had been a virgin when she came to him. Nothing else mattered. “In any case, my body is not all that Jamal wants,” she stated, untroubled by the truth of it. Being desired by a man like him was no compliment. “I am only his passport to my country’s crown.”
“Nice guy,” Tom agreed. He picked up the bag and her satchel. “We’ll go to the farmhouse first and retrieve your notes. Then we’ll go in your car to Des’s place. I want to see how he is. I’d rather you didn’t tell Des your theory that a vanished tribe may have lived on Diamond Downs. In his present condition, it’s better not to get his hopes up.”
“I understand. I want to be certain, too.”
He made no more reference to taking her to the airport and putting her on a plane to Derby. The likelihood was that Jamal’s men, or Horvath’s, would be watching the airport. It wouldn’t make any difference. She meant what she’d said. She wasn’t leaving Tom.
Tom might be right about Des not accepting her help, but she intended to try anyway. First she had to recover ownership of the plane, then she could look into selling it. She could worry later about convincing the Logans to share the proceeds. After she had resolved the question of what she and Tom would share.
The only way to the farmhouse was on foot. In the midday heat, even a short walk was enervating, but they agreed they weren’t safe near the plane. They had already spent more time there than was prudent, and not only because of the threat from Jamal and Horvath.
Tom knew that if he was alone with Shara for much longer, he would take her back to bed and damn the consequences. Knowing how dire they could be didn’t stop his blood from heating at the thought. She had surprised him today. Expecting a trembling virgin, he’d found a fiery, passionate woman who’d fulfilled his every dream.
But they’d shared more than sex aboard the plane. He’d begun to care. Realizing how close he was to falling in love with her, he had to step back, to think this through. The stronger his feelings, the more he owed it to her not to give in to them. He knew better than most that strong passions could hurt as well as heal. They could kill.
His father had loved his mother. Yet he’d stabbed her in a drunken rage, claiming she’d been with another man. Her frantic denials hadn’t saved her. After what he’d shared with Shara, Tom fully understood the drive to keep what was his. Primitive it may be, but his whole body sang with the urge to challenge any male who so much as looked at her.
Pity help Jamal if he showed up now.
Shaken by the power of his feelings, Tom widened the space between him and Shara. If he didn’t, he would crush her to him, then they’d both be lost. The instinctive way he’d grabbed her wrist, almost breaking it, was a warning. In his genes, love and violence were entwined. She deserved better.
“Someone has been here,” she said, breaking into his thoughts.
He inspected the footprints in the dust outside the old farmhouse. “We knew Jamal would head straight here. He’s probably long gone, but to be on the safe side, you wait here while I check inside.”
Her chin lifted. “You do not command me. I’m coming with you.”
Stubborn woman. Beautiful, strong-willed, he added to himself, the urge to possess her surfacing again. He pushed it down. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
She gave him a sharp look but said no more as they approached the door. The lock had been forced. Carefully, every sense on alert, he pushed the door open.
The cottage was deserted. “Looks like nothing’s been touched,” he said.
Her gaze was fixed on the coffee table in the living room. “My tape about the Uru people is gone. Jamal must have taken it.”
“You had the player with you, so Jamal couldn’t check what was on the tape. He probably took it in case it incriminates him.”
“If he only knew I now have the recording of his traitorous meeting, for all the good it will do us.”
At her ragged tone, Tom turned to her. “Science can do wonders these days. We’ll find an expert to retrieve the data off the tape.”
“Not soon enough.”
To stop her from being forced into marrying Jamal, Tom read between the lines.
“Jamal and Horvath probably won’t understand the potential value of the rock art,” she said. “I’m sure Jamal only took the tape in case I’d recorded something on it about his activities.”
“But Horvath will know we’re up to something, and is likely to step up his campaign to foreclose on Des’s mortgage. We’re going to run out of time to help you or Des.”
