by Margaret Way
“I must have been in love with her at some stage. That’s all you need to know.”
“Ditto with Sean. I don’t hate him. Maybe that’s a telling thing. I despise him. That’s entirely different. At any rate, his marriage to your cousin is no longer causing me grief.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” In fact it was a big relief. “But doesn’t it prove you never really loved him?”
She gave him a defeated look. “I’m afraid you could be right. It’s a little hard getting used to the idea I was such a rotten judge.”
“Maybe we only have an idea of the people we love,” he mused.
“Very likely. But what you see is what you get with me, MacFarlane. Now, why don’t I show you how good a rider I am?”
He laughed. How could he not? She entertained him. “I’m telling you I can’t wait. You look great in tight jodhpurs at any rate.”
Despite herself she blushed. “They’re not too tight, are they?” She didn’t think she had put on weight.
“On the contrary, they’re perfect! They need to be tight. If I were a better adjusted man I could really fancy you, Ms Wyatt.”
“I think the fancying got out of hand at the wedding, don’t you?”
“One of those instant inexplicable bondings,” he suggested very dryly.
“Or a pretty powerful chemical reaction.”
“Either way, it was great.” He rested a hand lightly on her silk-covered shoulder. Just a gesture but it sent a series of shock waves through her very receptive body. She couldn’t recall a touch like it.
In the end, he made her parade round and round the exercise yard before he was satisfied, making her finish with a working gallop.
“You’ll do!” Afterwards he lifted his arms so she had to slip down between him and the chestnut mare.
Her breasts were grazing his chest. She pulled back before she went to pieces. Behind her the mare whinnied. “I knew I would!” She tried for a cheeky smile, not easy when she was beset by desires she mightn’t get the chance to fulfil.
He had to be feeling the same because he muttered, “I want to kiss you.”
“Okay.” She took a deep preparatory breath. The two of them were taking big risks, but the temptation was too powerful to resist.
His mouth came over hers as though he knew just what she wanted. At first it was soft and easy, a sort of learning experience, then she heard the groan in his throat before he pulled her in closer. The kiss deepened, changed character. His hand sought and found her breast, moving over it in an exquisite caress. Their lower bodies were pressed together, as if yearning to fuse as nature intended. This was what it meant to play with fire.
“Cal…” Her voice sounded unnaturally shaky. “This is so…”
“I know.” He lifted his head, his hands dropping to her hips. “Just reaching out. Don’t move. Not for a minute.”
“I don’t think I can.” It was the solemn truth.
He continued to hold her. “Do you want this to come to anything, Amber?” He lifted her chin so he could stare into her eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re offering,” she said. “I didn’t see this coming.”
“And you think I did?”
“So is it a good feeling or a scary feeling?”
For answer he bent his dark head and kissed her again. “Both. But let’s say you make me feel more than I’ve ever felt before.”
It was some admission coming from him.
Weeks sped by in a dazzle of excitement. Janis had been more or less forced into accepting the new regime that, thankfully, was getting encouraging results. Amber had taken to giving little Marcus a soothing massage after his nightly bath—something she had once seen demonstrated by a close friend, a mother of two, and to her delight he loved it. Marcus was getting much more sleep, as were his sleep-deprived parents. The entire household was hoping and praying that Janis’s tensions would ease. But, if they did, she didn’t show it. Truth be told, Janis seemed to get meaner, even if she was less vocal about it. That had to be a plus.
She did, however, do everything in her power to avoid Amber, who was getting a little tired of it. When it came right down to it, Amber had effected the changes. But no thanks there. Amber might have been a highly paid mother’s helper. Disturbingly, she had the feeling that Janis hated her. Or maybe it wasn’t her personally. Janis would hate any woman who took Cal MacFarlane’s eye. Both Cal and his uncle appeared to be misreading the situation. Much as she wanted to give Janis the benefit of the doubt, Amber couldn’t help thinking that Janis was simply hiding behind the label of PND and, in doing so, missing out on one of the greatest gifts in life—the bottomless well of love a mother had for her child.
Wasn’t she then to be pitied? A miracle was in order here. But sadly miracles didn’t occur all that often in life.
Janis badly needed a fresh start in her own home. Amber knew she would have wanted a home of her own. Eliot couldn’t have it both ways. His wife and child were his top priorities. Back in the city, Janis might try a lot harder. There was plenty of help readily to hand. Surely she had made female friends over the years, even if she was estranged from her mother?
She wanted to toss up a few ideas with Cal, though she knew she was winging close to danger. She couldn’t, for instance, try him out on, Janis seems overly attached to you. She would have to pack her bags, when she had never been happier in her life. Still, she made it her business to stop him one morning when he was almost out of the door. The man seemed to be getting up earlier and earlier and working later. He put in a full day’s hard work and then some.
“Cal, could I have a word with you?” She hurried down the timber staircase.
He swung back, looking so damned glamorous she gulped. “If you make it quick,” he clipped.
She tried to find her voice. He was the very picture of Action Man, a red bandana sweatband style around his head, raven locks curling over the top. The temperatures were climbing as they moved into high summer. The bandana would keep the sweat out of his eyes. It made him look so dashing, so unbelievably sexy, that she was hit by a dizzy spasm and had to rest against the balustrade. Little tremors were running up, down, all over her body. Day by day she was leaving all sense of caution behind. What else could she do? Cal MacFarlane was a revelation!
“Hey, are you okay?” Cal couldn’t suppress the note of worry. This beautiful, never complaining woman, was his guest, yet she was handling everything like a highly paid employee. He was so much in her debt it was beginning to really bother him. Right from the beginning he had seen her in a number of stressful situations. She always acted in a manner he understood and approved. It was getting harder and harder to fault her. He had all but given up trying. What would he do if she vanished from his life? He wasn’t playing any game. He was certain she wasn’t playing a game, either. The truth was he wanted her to be always there, an integral part of his life. Damn it, the centre of his life. He was a man living with a secret.
What he hadn’t thought could happen had happened.
Too late now, MacFarlane.
She continued on down the stairs, unaware of his thoughts, but hugging close that note of concern. “Sure,’ she answered happily. She knew he and some of the men had already started to bring in the clean skins from the desert fringe in preparation for the big muster. She had heard with horror from Dee of the death of a station hand a few years back. The man had taken a fall from his spooked horse and was crushed to death. Since then Amber had been trying hard to block the image. Trying hard not to think of Cal in some life-threatening situation, even though she knew he confronted them on a daily basis. His well-being was vitally important to her.
“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” Cal’s brows knotted as he stared down at her.
Of a sudden she was feeling strong and ready, as though her energy had fed off his. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to burn out.”
“I am worried,” he said. “I want you to get out more. Enjoy yourself.
The plan wasn’t to have you stuck in the house.”
“Look, it’s all happening. I have a really good feeling about Marcus. From now on he should start to thrive.”
“You really like him, don’t you?” He smiled, his beautiful eyes full of a mesmerizing glitter.
“Like him? I love him. He’s a dear little fellow. He just had a rough start. Look, I won’t hold you up now, Cal. You’re obviously in a hurry.”
“I’ll give you ten minutes. How will that be?”
“Let’s walk outside.” She started to move to the door.
“Get your hat,” he said in a no-nonsense voice.
“You got it, boss.” She hurried away. When she returned she was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat atop her hair and tied it at the nape with an inky-blue ribbon to match her tank top.
The need to head things off at the pass, so pressing at the beginning, had lost focus. No bigger risk than giving your heart away. He knew that. Even so, Cal surrendered to the magic of having Ms Wyatt around. He reached out a lazy hand and pulled the ribbon from her hair. As expected, it set her magnificent mane free, every conceivable shade of red, copper and gold. “A little bit of provocation, is it?” he asked, pocketing the ribbon, then flipping down the brim she had deliberately turned up all the way round to get his reaction.
“Who said you could pinch my ribbon?”
“Why, do you want it back?”
Oh, that glitter in his eyes! “Keep it. Put it under your pillow. Dream of me.”
“What else can I do, since it seems too darned hard to get you into my bed?”
She looked up sharply, then smiled. “Haven’t we agreed to get to know one another better, Cal? Sleeping with you could be as dangerous as jumping off a cliff.”
“I’m game if you are.”
The sensuality in his voice reeled her in. “Maybe I’ve got more to lose?” she suggested very seriously. “It can be worse for women.”
“Nonsense!” His answer was blunt. “Okay, Amber. For you, I can wait. Maybe you’ll start to want me as much as I want you.”
She stood there with sensation nearly sweeping her off her feet. “Oh, I want you all right, but things are moving very fast, don’t you agree?”
“Maybe they have to when our time is limited. What happens when they want you back? And they will.”
“Don’t talk about it,” she begged. “I want to stay here for a long, long time.”
“I won’t be sending you away,” he said. “Count on it. And don’t dare turn that brim back again.”
She laughed. “I’ve never had a man outside my dear father pay so much attention to protecting my skin.”
He ran a finger down her cheek. “It’s called meaning well. Your skin’s great. Let’s keep it that way.” He was back to the bantering style he adopted when things got intense. Inside, Cal’s nerves were stretched taut. “My mother used to wear big-brimmed straw hats like that,” he said in a faintly melancholy voice. “She was beautiful, too.”
“So when did you first decide you wanted nothing more to do with her?” Amber asked as gently as she could. There was a lot of unresolved feeling here. A mother was forever part of one’s identity.
Instantly his body language radiated warning. “It’s too long ago to remember.”
“Is it?” She stared up at him, suddenly seeing him as a proud and handsome young boy.
“Don’t do this, Amber,” he warned, his green eyes aglitter.
She looked away across the garden, the air wavery in the heat. “Thought I’d give it a shot. Deep down I think you feel badly about the whole sorry situation. The trouble is, Cal, if you let your grievances go on too long, they become part of you like a second skin.”
He took a minute to answer. “You know, you were wasted in television. You should have given psychoanalysis a shot.”
“Hey, there’s still time,” she said, trying for breeziness. “All I’m saying is, where there’s a will, there’s a way. I’m like you. I mean well.”
His firm mouth twitched. “Then could I remind you that a couple of wasted minutes have gone past. What’s on your mind?”
She wasn’t such a fool that she didn’t know she had put a serious dent in his armour. “We’re friends, aren’t we, Cal?” she asked, fixing her gaze on his brooding face. “You’re happy we’re friends? Friendship is important. Maybe more important than sex.”
He laughed, beginning to unwind. “Hell, Amber, I liked you right off. Of course we’re friends. It’s not the perfect relationship. Don’t knock sex, but I guess it will have to do.”
“Want to tell me what the perfect relationship is?” she asked.
“I’d love to. I will. But it would take time. I don’t have it at the moment. The men will be waiting on me for their orders. I think I can guess your question in one—When are you going to tell Eliot to take a break away with his wife?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure Jingala is the best place for them long-term. Janis might be a whole lot happier if she had a home of her own.”
“Gets my vote,” he answered tautly. “It’s Janis who won’t move away.”
“But she told me otherwise.” She stared at him, puzzled. “She understood they were to live in Melbourne but Eliot brought her here.”
The severity was back. “So when did you have this little chat?”
“Hey, listen, don’t get cranky with me.” She placed a calming hand on his arm.
He stared down at the sight of her creamy skin, a stark contrast to his dark tan. “Amber, the last thing I’d do is vent my wrath on you. You’re a godsend. This has turned into a dilemma in more ways than one. I’d like to put as much distance as I can between Janis and myself, but then I lose the uncle I’ve lived with all my life and love. Plus the fact I also lose out on seeing Marcus grow up.”
“Well, I understand that,” she said with characteristic empathy. “But you’ll have children of your own. Eliot and family would always be welcome. Who knows, they might add to it.”
“For God’s sake!” He reacted with extreme impatience. “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve heard Jan yelling she hated being pregnant. She swore she’d never allow herself to get pregnant again. I, for one, believe her. And you’re wrong. I don’t care what Jan told you. It was Jan who convinced Eliot she wanted to come out to Jingala. You’ve had time to get to know Eliot. You must see he would have done whatever she asked. They were to live in Melbourne, but at some point Jan had a change of heart.”
She fell in love. A huge mistake on every count.
The wrong kind of love could be a sickness.
“Jan’s spirits might lift if you convinced Eliot to take her away for a holiday,” she bravely soldiered on.
“And I haven’t tried? What the hell keeps her here?” he asked. “She has never shown the slightest interest in the station and station life. She’s not in the least like you. She sees no beauty—gets no pleasure—from her environment. She doesn’t ride and she doesn’t intend to learn. Horses are another one of her hates. So what’s the attraction?”
To her absolute horror, Amber muttered a thoughtful, “Um…”
“You have an answer?’ He fired up.
He really was a high-voltage man. “I do, but I’m not sure I should go with it.”
“Now’s as good a time as any,” he told her with a darkening frown. “Spit it out, Amber.”
“You can’t guess?”
He retorted by putting his hand beneath her chin. Just the barest hint of force. “I’d like you to tell me. You’re the oracle around here.”
“And you don’t like it?’ Just looking up at him made her heart pound.
“On the contrary, I’m obliged to you.” He relented with a smile.
“That’s a relief! But I’m beginning to think telling you might be more than my life’s worth.”
“Can you prove what you think?” The challenge was back.
“Not one hundred and ten per cent, no.”
“Then
I’ll take a pass on it until you can. For now, I’m off. Don’t think I’m not grateful to you for all you’ve done, Amber. When I have the time I’m going to buy you the biggest present you’ve ever seen. I will speak to Eliot again. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Insist!” Amber transmitted her own seriousness. “Your uncle will take notice.”
CHAPTER NINE
MID-MORNING a very unexpected thing happened. Brooke Rowlands arrived on Jingala, piloting her own Cessa 310.
How cool was that!
Was it a chance occurrence? Or had she come on a specific mission? Had she despaired of getting an invitation and taken matters into her own hands? One might well wonder. All except Janis. Janis, unbeknown to anyone, had sent Brooke an email telling her, in effect, if she still wanted to land her man she had better get over to Jingala chop-chop.
Even Janis herself didn’t know why she’d done it. She was ill with her own tortured feelings for Cal. Horrified that such a thing had happened to her. She had thought she had her life under control. She had been reasonably content. She never expected to be happy. Happiness was for simpler souls. She regarded herself as a highly intelligent, complex woman, wound tight, much like the heroines of fiction. She had met and married a distinguished man. Rich, of course. She wouldn’t have looked sideways at anyone with less than fifty million dollars. Hardly worth the effort. But the MacFarlane family wealth combined came in at over a billion. She had checked it out. The old man, Cal’s grandfather Clive Erskine, had at least six billion, not that she had any chance of getting her hands on that. The MacFarlanes had a fine family name. Another big plus. They were one of the biggest landowners in the country, with a massive four million hectares spread over a dozen properties right across the State of Queensland. So marriage had come at a time when she’d doubted she would give herself to anyone at all. After all, she had the brains to make her own way in life.
Never for a moment had she anticipated what would happen to her. It had come like a lightning bolt, flattening her in the process. A monumental strike!
