Outback Angel

by Margaret Way

  “Watch Charlie,” he said, with an unconscious little edge.

  She drew back a little to stare into his amber eyes. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “I don’t trust Charlie,” he told her dryly. “When Charlie gets a mad idea into his head he takes off. He’s extremely impulsive.”

  “Why he’s a few years younger than I am,” she pointed out in amazement. Indeed she thought of Charlie as still a boy.

  “Sure,” he softly jeered, “and I’m thinking he’s getting carried away.”

  “Good thinking on your part.” She had to laugh, aware of Charlie’s youthful interest. “I can handle Charles.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “He’s only having fun. You don’t think you’re a little bit jealous?” Looking into his eyes gave her enormous pleasure.

  “I can promise I will be. I don’t want anyone to put their arms around you but me.” The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

  “I love that.” She sighed and flushed like a rose. It was such rapture to be in his arms. Every cell in her body reacted.

  “I adore that dress. It’s beautiful. The only thing I’d like more is to peel it off you.”

  The sensuality in his voice made her tremble. “I’m going to let you.” She raised her huge dark eyes to him.

  They were made desperately lovely because of some shadow she wore on the lids, a mysterious green like her dress. Had he really made endless love to her? Made her come over and over or had he only dreamt it? He would have died for a kiss at that moment, his desire for her so powerful he was almost afraid of it. He hadn’t thought himself such a vulnerable man. But he was where she was concerned. Without even trying she attracted every male within range. It was a power she had and that power, he knew, wouldn’t cease. She’d probably have it when she was an old lady. The man who married her would have to be prepared for fighting off all comers even if she was a woman of unquestioned loyalty. He was in love with her. Within days in fact of asking her to marry him. If she said yes, could there be a better Christmas?

  “What would I do if you went away?” he mused aloud.

  “I’m not leaving.” She intended it to sound like a little joke, instead her voice betrayed her. It was intense and emotional. Why? She loved him.

  “I just cannot believe this has all happened so quickly,” he said, smoothing his cheek against her glossy hair.

  “But what a miracle!” she breathed.

  Across the Great Hall Dinah watched them with a cold weight on her heart. She had never seen Jake like this before. Not with anyone. He’d gone overboard for this woman, who had to be really clever. Well, she could be clever, too. Certain things she knew Jake hated. Unfaithfulness was one of them. She remembered his outburst when their friends, the Hammonds, broke up. They’d all suspected Lucienne had been having an affair. Jake hadn’t liked that one little bit. Jake liked to think marriage was forever.

  It was easy for Dinah to get Charles to dance with her. Better yet, she thought he was a little drunk, though his movements were controlled enough. “I saw you dancing with Miss De Campo,” she said archly, cocking her platinum head to one side. “Now there’s a swinger. A real party-party girl, if you know what I mean?”

  “I adore her,” said Charles, thinking he had never succeeded in liking Jake’s ex-girlfriend, Dinah Campbell. So what if she was good-looking and her family was supposed to be loaded? There was a hardness behind the expensive wrapping and those pretty, cool green eyes. Frankly he didn’t think she was good enough for Jake.

  “And she likes you,” Dinah continued, playing him as though he were a simple child. “She finds you thoroughly attractive, sophisticated and worldly. Not difficult to see why. You look marvellous in black tie, and of course you are the Honourable Charles Middleton. It shows.”

  If only she weren’t such an embarrassing snob!

  “You’ve made quite an impression on her.”

  For a moment Charles was quite overcome. That beautiful woman attracted to him? That was a huge coup. It stunned him. “How do you know?” he demanded, maddened he hadn’t had a clue.

  “Why she told me, obviously,” Dinah trilled. “I’m sure she’d be yours if you want.”

  Charles wanted badly. Man was born to sow his wild oats! Supper came and went though it was more like a banquet. The buffet tables were laden with the most delectable food including ham, turkey, chicken, beef, served in hot or cold dishes. Magnificent seafood had been flown in from tropical North Queensland—lobster, crab, the Gulf’s famous prawns, oysters nestling in ice; pasta dishes, all kinds of salads. There was a separate buffet table for the splendid desserts. Waiters circled constantly, refilling champagne flutes. It couldn’t have been more splendid or more festive. Christmas was definitely in the air.

  It was around two in the morning when that daredevil Charles suggested a treasure hunt. Treasure hunts went off very well at home and they did offer distinct romantic possibilities. It was a huge inducement to know Angelica was attracted to him. After all, he had plenty to offer. The younger guests received the suggestion with much clapping and cheering.

  The boundaries were set and included the avenues of walkways connecting the Great Hall with the homestead as well as the Great Hall and its immediate grounds. The homestead itself was off limits. The treasure was to be planted by Jake, as master of Coori station and their host.

  Once Jake moved off—he was given ten minutes to find a suitable hiding place—Charlie seized Angelica’s hand. “You’re with me,” he said, flushed with triumph. “Jake can’t be in the game. He knows where the treasure’s hidden.”

  His mood was infectious. Though Charlie was almost an adolescent, he was good fun. Out under the stars they heard peals of giggles; girl’s voices, light, sweet and young. The black-velvet sky was ribboned by the Milky Way, a glorious diamond haze containing billions of stars.

  It was utterly beautiful! Angelica looked up, marking the stars that made up the constellation of the Southern Cross. It hung over the homestead’s great roof, easy to pick out in the pure desert air. The star furthest to the south was a star of the first magnitude. East and north, the second magnitude. To the west, a star of the third magnitude. In ancient times it was visible in Babylonia and Greece.

  “You’re not supposed to be star-gazing,” Charlie whispered in her ear, his excitement gathering by the moment. “We’re looking for treasure. Or we’re supposed to be.” He wondered wildly if he should kiss her now. But just as he thought it, he had to think again. Another couple followed them up.

  “You behave yourself, Charlie,” said the guy, one of the members of the opposing polo team.

  “Isn’t that what I always do,” Charlie quipped, leading Angelica across the springy grass to one of the vine-covered bowers, its flowers glowing radiantly.

  “I’m not sure Jake would plant it here.” She smiled, not much caring. The breeze was glorious, carrying the marvellous perfume of the purple boronia that grew wild. It was a fantastic night. She was so happy! Her thoughts were entirely of Jake. Not of Charlie, greatly misled.

  For a while Charlie made a pretence of looking for the treasure, shaking out plants and looking around and beneath all the stone garden benches. They were moving further away from the lights that blazed around the Great Hall. The home gardens had been lit for the occasion, a veritable fairyland, but there were delicious pockets of dark.

  Finally Charlie couldn’t stand it. He stood stock-still, staring down into Angelica’s pearlescent face. It took a special kind of man to lead a celibate life. It was not a life for him!

  “What then?” she whispered, wondering why he had stopped.

  “Oh, Angelica, why didn’t you tell me you were attracted to me?” he asked tenderly.

  That brought Angelica back to earth with a crash. “Charlie,” she exhaled in shock, “I’m not attracted to you.”

  But heat was flowing into Charlie at the rate of knots. He put his hands on her shoulders, revelling in th
e feel of her bones and her satiny, perfumed skin. “You don’t mean that.” Not since Dinah’s revelation.

  “I absolutely do.” She tried to sound stern and failed. “If you don’t stop being silly, I’m going back.”

  But Charlie, intoxicated on all fronts, was under a pounding, painful desire. God knows, he didn’t get to meet too many beautiful women miles way out in the bush. “You can’t!” he protested in a spectacularly loud voice.

  “Shh, be quiet!” Embarrassed, Angel looked back over her shoulder.

  “No. Angelica, there’s a good side to this,” he informed her.

  “Really, what?”

  “I can afford to come to Sydney to see you. I could spend some time in the New Year with you.”

  “Oh, Charlie, no more!” Angel pleaded, unwilling to hurt his feelings. “You’re being ridiculous. I’ve never given you the slightest encouragement. Not now. Not ever. I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink. We really ought to go back.”

  “Not until I’ve kissed you,” Charlie said masterfully. It had always worked with Gilly. With a smooth slide of muscle he hauled her up against him, kissing her frantically though she tried to jerk her head back.

  “You’re beautiful, so beautiful!” His young voice literally shook with excitement. “You wanted that, didn’t you?”

  What she really wanted to do was sock him, her long hair thrashing from side to side as she attempted to wrestle him off. “Charlie, stop this,” she gritted. “Someone will come along.”

  “Let them. Oh, hell, Angelica, did you have to kick me?” Charlie broke off to press his hand against his shin. “The truth is I’m mad about you. I just realised it. Dinah Campbell tipped me off.”

  “Dinah Campbell?” Angelica felt a red tide of anger as Charlie straightened, locking a finger around her wrist.

  “Yes, Dinah,” he confided. “I don’t like her much but she did me a favour.” Charlie, with a huge capacity for pleasure, reached for her again, holding her face still in his hands while he planted an emotion-charged kiss on her mouth. “I’ll do the right thing by you,” he muttered when he was able to talk at all.

  “Hey, don’t worry!” Angelica kicked him again and Charlie gave a moan of pain, perceiving through an alcohol-induced fog, Dinah, sinister sort of girl that she was, might have led him astray. Angelica didn’t appear to be keen on him after all. “Don’t be like this,” he coaxed. “Really, Dinah’s the one who should be shot. The bitch! I’m so sorry. I was out of line. Let’s kiss and make up.” He risked placing an arm around her, bending his blond head. He wanted to steal a kiss one last time!

  Simultaneously Jake found them, silhouetted against nearby lights. Which was exactly what Dinah had planned on. To all appearances they were locked in each other’s arms, enjoying a smouldering kiss. Angel’s long hair was cascading down her back. One shoulder was entirely bare, as the thin strap of her gown slid down her arm, revealing more of her breast. Her skin glowed in the semi-dark.

  He went to earth with his deepest emotions. He realised he’d always lived that way. He wondered briefly if she were a nymphomaniac, and quickly rejected it disgustedly as part of the jealousy process. More likely men couldn’t keep their hands off her. Either way it would be hell to be married to her.

  Blessed with excellent night vision he stared for a long while hoping with all his heart Angel when released would reach back and slap Charlie’s handsome face. She didn’t. Instead they spoke quietly for a moment, dark and fair heads together as though planning another assignation. Then Angel turned away no doubt to return to the Hall. And she was going alone. Charlie, just like in a movie, skulked off in the opposite direction.

  Head down, moving so innocently in her exquisite seductive gown, she almost walked into him. “Jake!” She clutched her throat. She seemed guilty, as though caught in the act.

  “Have you ever tried getting treatment?” he asked acidly, knowing full well pain was making him lash out even as it heightened his desire.

  She placed a gentle, restraining hand on his arm. “Charlie is drunk,” she explained, much as she might say little Kylee was being naughty. “You know what he’s like. He lost it for a while.”

  “You mean another one went off the deep end?” It sounded brutal. He didn’t want that, but he was injured.

  “Men being what they are,” she said with hurt sarcasm. “Look, I like Charlie. He’s just a boy.”

  “Some boy!” he responded tight-lipped, wanting to crush her mouth under his. The problem was he was too proud. And so afraid of loving. He abandoned himself to jealous rage, doubly angry because he had never really experienced the emotion before. In fact he was in awe of it. He had never depended on anyone outside his beloved mother for emotional support, until he met this woman. “So far as I could see he had his tongue down your throat,” he bit off. Even as he said it he felt wretched.

  “How would you know? Have you got X-ray vision?” she challenged him, her own temper rising though she scented his hard desire.

  “You’re damned right I have. What did you go with him for anyway?”

  “You want to forbid me to walk with anyone else?” She leaned towards him as though he, not Charlie, would be the recipient of a good back-hander.

  “I think I told you to watch out for Charlie,” he said harshly.

  “That’s me, a siren, luring men onto the rocks. Can’t you trust me for five minutes, Jonathon?”

  He took a deep breath, feeling it shake in his throat. “God knows I want to.” Why couldn’t he say, “I love you”? Or was he going to be trapped forever? “I thought we had something valuable,” he said. “Something important. Something that would lead us to make vows. But for God’s sake, do you have to lead every man in sight into temptation?” He knew he should stop but he couldn’t, enwrapped in a lifetime of bitter disappointments.

  Her beautiful face registered anger and pain. “Of course I do!” She gave another angry laugh. “It’s never the man’s fault, is it? I’d have a lifetime of getting the blame from you if we were married.”

  “Oh, so you thought I was going to ask you to marry me?” he asked with a touch of his father’s cruelty. It sounded like an obscenity in his own ears.

  “Weren’t you?” she seethed. “Or was I just another one of your affairs? Dinah told me you had them from time to time. She also told poor alcohol-impaired Charlie that I had the hots for him. Or words to that effect.”

  “Dinah did?” He felt sick. Like he’d done some irreparable damage by rushing into judgment when she could simply be telling the truth.

  “That’s right. Are you surprised? Dinah, your friend,” she said fiercely. “She wanted to discredit me. And she knows all about you. More than I do, at any rate. She knows what a puritan you are. The worse kind of man. Like your father.”

  A stricken silence. “I didn’t mean that.” Her voice shook. “You make me so angry, but I didn’t mean it.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said, his grave face poised above her. “There are certain things I want from the woman I’d ask to be my wife. I thought I’d met her. I don’t count Charlie. I understand what stage Charlie’s at. But I meant nothing to you. You could have stopped him. Charlie might be a bit drunk but he’s not the kind to force a woman.”

  “Really? I thought you were all that kind,” she returned cuttingly, pain clawing at her. “The world could drown in a woman’s tears. You’re a long way from being my ideal man, Jonathon McCord. In fact, I don’t want you to ever speak to me again. Except on business.” With that, she gathered her long skirt with one hand and started to stalk off, turning abruptly to warn, “And if you say one more nasty word about me, I’m going to sue you for defamation of character. I’ll tell Bruno, as well, though he mightn’t have as easy a time knocking you flat like he did Trevor. I don’t give men a great big come-on, as you desperately want to believe. I don’t think you’ll ever get over losing your mother. Loving comes with punishment in your book. In a good marriage—and I know
because my parents have one—there’s trust on both sides. It’s time you learned something about it. Good night!”

  He went after her, stung insufferably by her little speech. “Don’t you dare go to bed.” When he desperately wanted her there. “You’re working, remember?” Hell, how stupid, but there didn’t seem to be a way around this pain.

  “I think I’ll hand over to Stacy if you don’t mind.”

  The fact her cheek glistened with a tear came as a near physical blow to his heart. “God, Angel, I’m sorry.” His anger totally collapsed, revealing his very real love for her. “I’m sure you’re right in everything you say. It’s me, not you. I had a terrible childhood and it’s made me hard. Wanting you is something over which I have no control, when control has always been my thing.”

  “I don’t think you could ever change.” She bit her lip, dreadfully upset.

  “I love you.” The words burst forth, though they seemed to give her no satisfaction. “I hoped you loved me. I thought what we had was perfect.”

  “Nothing’s perfect, Jonathon.” She sighed shakily and turned away.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BY MID-AFTERNOON of the following day the guests with the exception of Dinah Campbell and Leif Standford had returned home. He’d realised for some time his stepmother had a soft spot for Leif and that was one of the reasons he’d been invited to the match. Now it seemed Leif returned Stacy’s affections. He hoped the friendship would progress. God knows, Stacy had had little marital happiness. Leif was a good man.

  As for Dinah, he planned a quiet talk with her, stung with distaste for what she had attempted to do. Charlie could get himself into enough trouble without anyone’s help. Not that he was worried about Charlie. Charlie would always fall on his feet. He was more worried about himself.

  It seemed a dreadful thing now he had expected the worst of Angel, then throw it at her. He had never been like this before. He had never been head over heels in love before. He had never had so many struggles going on in his head and body. He’d seen her only once that day, so vividly darkly beautiful she made the breath catch in his throat. She showed no signs of the upset of the night before, or the fact she’d probably only had an hour or two’s sleep. She’d said a polite, “Good morning,” and gone on her way. It shook him up a little but there were too many distractions. Guests had to be ferried to the airstrip, fare-welled. Everyone agreed it was the best day ever. Or at least until next year, though Angel’s efforts would be very hard indeed to top. Not in his experience anyway.