by Margaret Way
Rolling the stem of her crystal wineglass between her two fingers, Amber watched the interaction of the family. The Cattle Baron looked marvelous, she thought, realising she was now admiring his style of looks—the strong distinctive features, the taut toughness and his great body. The man fitted his setting. He was simply dressed but high quality all the way—white cotton shirt very up to the moment, safari style, buttoned down pockets, open-necked, over perfectly fitted khaki-coloured trousers. In the middle of the desert he didn’t need anyone to give him any style tips. His uncle was his elegant self in a cotton striped shirt and charcoal trousers to match one of the stripes. Janis MacFarlane looked a great deal better than the first time Amber had seen her. She wore a scarlet dress of surprisingly bold cut. The neckline dipped precariously low. Amber supposed it was because of weight loss. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her long dark hair was arranged in an elegant knot, large dark eyes shining. Or was that more a feverish glint? Amber could see when she was well and happy how Janis would have dazzled her husband. Her long nails were painted the same colour as her dress. No housework to break them. No catching of nails in baby’s nappy. She wore no jewellery around her delicate neck, but the central diamond in her engagement ring was so big it was a wonder she could lift her fork.
And she was inexcusably rude. After the initial head to toe inspection of Amber’s person, she rarely looked at her again. She looked—not at her husband—but, for God’s sake at the Cattle Baron. In fact Amber realised with some surprise that she talked almost exclusively to him. Once her finger reached out and touched his hand where it lay on the linen and lace table mat.
Dear God!
Amber was shocked into giving a gasp, which she hurriedly turned into a cough. With utter dismay, she perceived the truth as if it were all spelt out for her in neon letters ten feet high.
Janis MacFarlane is in love with The Cattle Baron.
How was that for a scenario? It smacked of madness. Worse, danger. No wonder the woman wasn’t functioning properly.
Did Cal know? Did his uncle know? Did Dee know? Surely Dee had dropped a hint to fuel her perceptions?
A hard lump lodged in Amber’s chest. She thought it would take ages before the shock waves wore off. Janis MacFarlane’s high levels of anger and bitter resentment directed towards her husband and baby were symptoms not of PND but of being caught in a taboo situation. She had flipped the switch herself. Loving the wrong man would be akin to desolation. Eliot MacFarlane was a fine-looking man, gentle, cultured, but, seen side by side with his nephew, with his youth and blazing aura, his immense sexual radiance, Eliot’s attractions all but faded away.
Was that disaster?
Was it ever!
Cal turned his dark head to give her an odd look. “You okay?”
With her head full of horror, she fetched up a smile. “Never better!” She was uncertain now whether her compassion for Janis MacFarlane was lessening or growing. What a penance, falling in love with your husband’s nephew!
“So what’s your opinion of Jingala beef?” he asked, unaware of Amber’s train of thought.
Dee, who was revealing herself as a great cook, had roasted a prime fillet of beef served with a red wine sauce and cooked-to-perfection buttered vegetables.
“Mouth-watering,” she said. She’d been hungry when the meal had arrived but the latest revelation had killed her appetite stone dead.
“You can have another glass of shiraz for that.” He smiled.
“I hear you lost your job, Ms Wyatt.” Janis suddenly spoke up. Her words seemed to carry an odd sting. Amber had the bizarre thought that Janis MacFarlane was jealous of her very presence. Or was she a naturally nasty person? You couldn’t just fake PND. One might have to look elsewhere for a cause.
And now Amber knew where.
“Give us a break, Jan,” Cal groaned. “Amber asked you to use her first name as soon as she walked in.”
“Amber, of course.” Janis MacFarlane’s scarlet mouth pouted. “So sorry. If you were after seclusion…Amber, you couldn’t do better than here.”
“Then I have to say I love seclusion.” Amber caught the Cattle Baron’s glittering eyes.
“What?” Janis exclaimed. “You love the vast empty spaces—well, of course you love the homestead—” this delivered very dryly “—or is it the diplomatic thing to say?”
“You don’t believe me?” Amber smiled, though it took quite an effort. “But tell me. How did you know I’d lost my job?” Had Cal told her? What else had he told her? She hoped she looked cool. She didn’t feel cool. In fact, she was beginning to steam up.
“Janis didn’t get it from me,” the Cattle Baron intervened as though he’d read Amber’s mind.
Janis MacFarlane threw back the rest of her wine. She had eaten very, very sparingly but the beautiful wines on offer were quite a different matter. “You’re not a complete unknown…Amber,” she said, making an unsuccessful attempt at sounding friendly. “Even in the wilds, with the satellite, it’s very easy to trace faces and names.”
A moment of stunned silence. “You traced her?” Cal asked before Amber had a chance to.
“Why, yes! I recognised Amber’s face right off. Naturally, I was interested in her story. And does she have one!”
“Run it by us,” Cal invited, again beating a simmering Amber to a retort. Unless she was growing super-sensitive, Janis MacFarlane’s tone wasn’t far from open contempt. Calm down, dammit. Don’t let this very odd woman get under your skin.
“I swear I would have done the same thing in your place, Amber,” Janis now assured her. “In fact, I would have been lying in wait for him somewhere.”
“Not with a gun, I hope?” This time Amber beat the Cattle Baron off. She was beginning to think Janis MacFarlane well capable of pulling a trigger.
Janis shrugged a thin ivory shoulder. “He deserved punishment for what he did to you. I suppose you still love him?”
Once more the Cattle Baron opened his mouth to reply, presumably on Amber’s behalf, but she turned to him sweetly.
“May I speak, please?”
His mouth twitched. “Go right ahead.”
“Without interruption?”
His eyes sparkled. “Be my guest.”
“Thank you.” Amber shifted her gaze to Janis MacFarlane’s face. It was openly hostile at this quick exchange between Cal and his guest. More signs of jealousy here? Amber would have been pleased to know that she, on the other hand, looked completely unperturbed. “I really don’t know if I ever did love him, Janis,” she said. “That’s the truest answer I can give. At any rate, I’m not having any vulnerable moments. I’m not spending any time thinking about him. He’s married. I doubt I’ll speak to him again.”
“And I don’t blame you.” Janis spoke darkly, as though she abandoned men every day. “It’s a miracle you’ve survived so much public humiliation. But you, Cal—” she turned eyes huge with concern on him “—you’ve risked a lot, haven’t you, upsetting your grandfather?”
The Cattle Baron let his irritation show. It caused his uncle to take belated action. It obviously took time for Eliot to marshal his thoughts, Amber mused, not without sympathy. After a blissful first marriage that had ended in tragedy, Eliot appeared to have no real idea what this young woman he had married in such a hurry was on about. Either way, it was up to him to put a stop to her treating him like dirt.
Eliot pressed down on his wife’s fingers. “Why are you talking about this, Jan, and at dinner? All of us want a pleasant evening. Cal is his own man. He has never kowtowed to his grandfather. No MacFarlane would. The very last thing we want to do is upset Amber, our guest, never mind Clive Erskine.”
“May I have my fingers back?” Janis MacFarlane snapped. “You’re hurting me.” She snatched her hand away, looking martyred. “I was just worried about Cal. That’s all.”
Somehow they got through coffee. At any rate, Janis didn’t speak to Amber again. Afterwards, Cal suggested Amber might like
a stroll around the home compound before bed.
With that, Janis gave her husband the sharp order. “On your feet, Eliot. I too would like some fresh air.”
Eliot’s answer was surprisingly tranquil. He looked around the outdoor setting. “I would have thought we were getting plenty. I think we’d do a whole lot better looking in on our son.”
Right on!
Outside, under the gloriously blossoming stars, Amber started to unwind. “Gosh, does Janis ever have a good day?”
“She could well do,” Cal replied after a moment’s consideration. “It’s just I haven’t seen it. Eliot isn’t terribly good at pulling her into line either.”
“How does one pull a woman into line?” Amber asked, wondering how the Cattle Baron would go about it.
“You sound like you’d expect me to break teeth?”
“Is that an answer?” she said, laughing.
“You’re not getting a rise out of me, Amber,” he told her dryly.
“Okay, let’s regroup. Tell me about the stars. You’re absolutely right. I’ve never seen anything to equal the numbers, the size and the brilliance. The Southern Cross has never looked so bright or so close, or the Milky Way so luminous.” She lifted her head in a gesture of worship to the great dazzling vault of the sky, spanned by millions of twinkling, sparkling stars. “The aboriginal people have all sorts of myths and legends about the stars, don’t they?”
“Sun, moon and stars. Every living thing, every mystery explained. The Milky Way is the home of the great beings. It’s also our home if we’ve lived a good life. Of course the myths vary from region to region. One of the most interesting facets of mythology is ritual. The two complement each other. I’ll speak to one of our tribal elders, Jimmy Possum, about organising a corroboree for you, one that’s not sacred—”
“Before I go?” She was unwilling to explore her burgeoning feelings about the Cattle Baron, but she had to admit that he had gained powerful entry into her life.
“Do you want to go?” He looked down on her from his superior height.
“Not for ages! This is the most exciting adventure I’ve had in my life.”
“And you’re barely into it,” he answered suavely.
“Listen, I meant it.” The challenge in his manner kept her on a knife edge. “You have major trust issues with women, don’t you?” she ventured. “What do you actually need from a woman to trust her?” She allowed him to take her arm to draw her away from an overhanging frond. If she had been carrying something she would have dropped it, so nerveless did he render her limbs.
“You think that’s my problem?” He released her, taking his time.
“Like me, your fiancée betrayed you. That’s got to hurt!” She shook her head with real feeling, the movement making the deep sinuous waves of her hair bounce.
“Hurt at the time, but betrayal is part of a man’s education,” he returned in a clipped voice.
“Don’t forget us girls.”
“I doubt if I could forget you, Ms Wyatt.” He gave a mocking sigh of admiration.
“You ticked Janis off for calling me Ms Wyatt.”
“The problem with Janis is that, unlike me, she wasn’t doing it in fun.”
“So it’s fun, is it?”
“We both know it is.”
She did know. Had it been another two people, she would have said they were flirting. Silly word. The Cattle Baron was above and beyond flirting. So was she, for that matter. “So what about a few legends?” Here, in the perfumed semi-dark, excitement was picking up at an alarming rate. The man’s aura of sexuality had a tremendous edge.
“I’m weighing up which ones to tell you,” he said. “Some of them are pretty damned erotic.”
“Like the tales of the Arabian Nights?”
“Are you telling me you’ve read them?” he asked with a catch of laughter in his voice.
“Actually, when I was a kid I got hold of an old copy. I used to read everything and anything I could get my hands on. I remember it was in a trunk with lots of other old books. I couldn’t make head or tail of it, but it sure beat a comic book.”
“I should hope you couldn’t understand it, not if you were a child. Anyway, I’m sure you’ve caught up over the years. Did you and Sinclair live together?”
“No, we didn’t!” she said crossly. “I guess I had that much sense. Anyway, I’ve warned you. Let’s forget about him unless you want us to have a heart to heart about your ex.”
“Brooke is history.”
“So you say. You never run into her?”
He extended a long arm to hold up another frond overhanging the pathway. “Not often when so many miles separate us.”
“So where does she live? As the crow flies?”
“You can go on the Internet and find out all about her family,” he said. “Her father is Peter Rowlands. They’re an old pastoral family. It would seem the Internet is Jan’s only form of relaxation. The Rowlands’ flagship station, Goorack, is about one hundred and fifty miles north-east of here.”
“Impressive?”
“Well, it’s not right up there with Jingala, Kinjarra, Daramba and the like, but impressive enough,” he said.
“Did you ever give her a chance to say she was sorry?” She felt compelled to know.
“Ms Wyatt, as far as I’m concerned, being unfaithful wraps the whole thing up.”
“So that’s a no, then?”
“Well, I won’t screw up and appear at her wedding.”
“Couldn’t resist it, could you?” she said in disgust. “Your ex is getting married?”
“Not as far as I know.” The reply was bland.
“Oh, that is so like you!” Her tone was laced with irritation.
“But you don’t have any real idea what I’m like, Amber Wyatt. For instance, did you know I’m dying to kiss you?”
She had to brace herself against the shock. The man had sex appeal on tap. “One way of shutting me up?”
“You know what they say. The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”
“Oscar Wilde.” She sucked in a breath as his hands dropped to her waist. “What’s going on here, Cal?”
“Just a kiss in the dark,” he said smoothly. “All part of your Outback adventure. We can revert to our normal selves the minute we go back inside.”
His handsome face was very close, his male charisma scattering her defences to the desert winds. “Look, the last thing I should do is encourage you.” She braced her hands against his hard muscled chest.
“Sure about that?”
“Spare me the arrogance, Cal MacFarlane.”
“Not arrogance. Think of it as therapy. For both of us and our wounded hearts. Neither of us is looking for a long-term involvement right now, are we? Our lifestyles are totally incompatible and so forth. Going on our past experience, a shared kiss would be a very pleasant way to round off the evening.”
“I don’t know if pleasant is the right word. A bit tame in comparison to our last encounter. But then both of us were het up at the time. Right now, I think it best if I pull away.”
“Why don’t you?”
“You may well ask. It’s not easy.” She laughed. She was still laughing when he covered her mouth with a low murmur that sounded very much like yearning.
Whatever, she lost it.
Entirely.
How could her body be responding, rejoicing, in this way? She had never believed herself to be fickle. And yet she was opening her mouth to him, feeling the warm pressure of his lips, his tongue sliding over her teeth, bringing up her arms to clasp behind his neck, closing her eyes tight with the brilliant stars shining down on her heavy lids.
How long did it last?
She didn’t know. The only thing she did know was that she hadn’t pushed him away. The mouth that covered hers with so much passion and mastery might well have encircled her heart. It was tremendous. It was dizzying. It was also very bewildering. She would have to re-evaluate her w
hole adult life. It wasn’t all that long ago she’d believed her heart to have been slashed to ribbons.
What a turnaround that was! She had sloughed off the old Amber and become a new woman. Maybe a touch demented.
When he finally lifted his head she leaned heavily against him, revelling in his height and his strength. Temporarily she felt unable and unwilling to stand free.
He kissed the top of her head. “I thought when I kissed you at the wedding that no woman could have responded better. Now you’ve thrown in a little extra.”
“That I have! Take it as glorious lunacy. Don’t expect all my self-control to disappear.”
“God knows I’ll have to get a handle on my own.” There was a mixture of laughter and self-mockery in his tone. “But on no account need you fear I’ll overstep the boundaries,” he assured her. “Are you able to walk on?”
Her response was a little tart in the face of his mockery. “How many other women have you kissed that swoon?”
“None more thrilling than you,” he replied.
“As if I believe you!”
Even so, she seemed to be floating in the perfumed darkness. She had never been more conscious of her own body, of her skin, its largest, most sensitive organ. She might not have been wearing any clothes at all, she felt so exposed to his every glance, let alone the touch of his hand.
“You should.”
He sounded serious. “All the more reason to keep the brakes on, surely?” she warned. “Both of us have had our trust smashed.”
“More like dented.”
She lifted her head. “I thought you loved your ex-fiancée?”
