Billionaire's Baby Chase
Page 9
He gave Zoe a level look. “Why don’t we ask her now?”
Zoe fought a surge of alarm. “Nobody said anything about camping.” She didn’t even try to keep the accusation out of her voice.
“I was coming to it,” he said, looking caught-out.
Anger suffused her. “First you put her on a horse higher than her head. Now you want to take her Lord-knows-where into the bush. She’s four years old, for goodness’ sake. What if she gets frightened, or hurt?”
“All the more reason for you to come along,” he said pointedly with maddening logic.
Her sense of panic intensified. The idea of spending a night out in the bush with James unnerved her far more than she wanted him to know. “I’ve never been camping. I wouldn’t know what to do,” she disclosed. “And surely Genie’s too young anyway.”
He flashed a glance at the little girl, but she had dropped to her knees and was examining a ladybird with total absorption. “She mustn’t ride, she can’t go camping. If I hadn’t found her in time, she’d spend her life wrapped in cotton wool.”
His lowered tone didn’t conceal his anger. Well, he wasn’t the only one. “Wrapping her in cotton wool isn’t the same as trying to keep her safe,” she said in a furious undertone. “I won’t let you goad me out of keeping that trust.”
“Then you’ll come with us?”
“Yes, damn you.” It was out before she could stop herself.
A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Good. We set off after breakfast tomorrow.”
Chapter Seven
What had she gotten herself into? Zoe wondered the next morning. She must be crazy agreeing to spend a night out in the bush with James, even with Genie as chaperone. Adding insult to injury, the sun was shining out of an impossibly blue sky, spangling the giant blue gums and olive-clad hills with gold. There would be no reprieve due to the weather.
Nor could she pretend to be ill. Knowing James, he would simply take Genie camping by himself, a far more alarming option. Zoe had no choice but to make the best of it. She resolved to spend as little time alone with James as she possibly could.
After breakfast James loaded her things into a four-wheel-drive vehicle, which looked to have traveled many more kilometers through rugged country than the sleek Branxton Turbo he drove in the city. Come to think of it, James himself had a more rawboned look today than when she had first seen him.
A lump filled her throat as she watched the play of muscles beneath his close-fitting denim shirt, which was tucked into moleskin trousers the color of driftwood. He looked the picture of rugged Australian manhood, the effect emphasized by the battered Akubra hat sitting well back on his chestnut hair.
An array of equipment and sleeping bags was already on board. Zoe inspected the gear in confusion. “I don’t see a tent anywhere.”
He looked pleased. “The term ‘camping’ isn’t exactly accurate when it comes to Blue Gum Camp. It’s a permanent cabin complete with wooden flooring, mosquito nets…and running water,” he added, obviously enjoying her openmouthed reaction.
“You let me think you wanted Genie to sleep under canvas in the middle of the bush somewhere,” she snapped. What an idiot she had made of herself.
“Only because you’re determined to cast me as a heartless brute when it comes to her. If you’d let me explain instead of flying off the handle yesterday, I’d have reassured you about the kind of trip I had planned.” He paused, one long-fingered hand grasping the vehicle’s door handle. “This isn’t about toughening her up. I want Genevieve to feel at home at White Stars. Getting out into the bush will let her experience the heart and soul of the place and make her feel part of it.”
“The way I felt about this area as a child,” Zoe said involuntarily as memories came flooding back. “My grandfather took me canoeing, swimming and bushwalking through the forests not far from here. Poppa’s favorite trail started at the end of Bangalow Road and followed the slope down to Gap Creek.” She stopped, her voice choking with emotion.
“Then you can hardly deny Genevieve the same experience, can you?”
It wasn’t the same, she thought furiously. In taking her into the bush her grandparents had wanted nothing more than to share with her their favorite places. It would never have occurred to them to try to win her away from her parents, although there were times when she would have given anything to be able to live permanently in this area. Her grandparents had given her a comforting sense of security and belonging she’d never known with her rootless mother and father.
“I’m not denying her anything,” she snapped back. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“In body, anyway,” he concluded.
“What more do you want?”
His eyebrow lifted and his appreciative gaze roved over her, from her figure-hugging denims all the way to her sun-streaked curls, tied back with a georgette scarf, which matched her blouse. “I doubt if you’re asking me what I want personally. I gave you the answer yesterday, Zoe. But I’d be happy to repeat the demonstration if you’re still in doubt.”
A shiver traveled along her spine. Yesterday, holding her in his arms, he had answered questions she hadn’t even known she was asking. Even telling herself his lovemaking was a means to an end failed to reduce the impact on her senses. Today was another matter. “I’ll see if Genie’s ready to go,” she said hastily. His knowing chuckle followed her escape into the house.
In spite of her apprehension the journey was far more pleasant than she had expected. James was an expert off-road driver, handling the rough terrain with such skill that the dirt roads smoothed out before them. The worst parts were a couple of steep hill climbs where the car threatened to lose traction, but he managed to hold their momentum steady. And each time they crested a hill, they were rewarded with fresh vistas of rain forests, sandstone cliffs, waterfalls and eucalypt glades.
Genie was beside herself with excitement whenever she spotted movement beside the track, shrieking with delight when they had to slow to allow a fat wombat to amble across their path. Then James started a chorus of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” and by the time they came within sight of Blue Gum Camp even Zoe was singing at the top of her voice.
Camp was definitely a misnomer, she decided as James unlocked a charming timber building nestled amid groves of tall, straight gum trees. The cabin was finished in cedar, with locally milled hardwood ceiling beams and a traditional corrugated iron roof. Inside, the walls were paneled with radiata pine and the furniture was hand-carved in rustic style.
Downstairs were two single beds piled with cushions, which doubled as sofas during the daytime, a cast iron potbellied stove providing cooking and warmth, and an old-fashioned washstand with period-style brass fittings.
On the windowpane above one of the beds was scratched in old-fashioned handwriting, March 27, 1864. James saw her reading it. “One of the pioneers of this land, Laura Dunkell, is said to have scratched the date with her diamond engagement ring a week before her wedding to Jamieson Langford. They spent their wedding night in this cabin.”
It was disturbingly easy for Zoe to imagine the little timber dwelling as a romantic retreat, probably lit by candles then, their flickering shadows drawing the night in around the lovers like a cloak.
“Of course, there was a big old double bed here in those days,” James went on as if reading her thoughts. “Laura and Jamieson supposedly conceived the first of their fourteen children in it that night.”
Zoe balked at the images running riot through her thoughts and the intimacy his description conjured up. Was there a purpose behind James bringing her to the wilderness? With a child in tow, there would be little opportunity for seduction, she was forced to admit, but the very idea speared her with excitement. She directed her anger into a critical glare. “I thought you said you bought this land only a couple of years ago.”
He nodded. “It was in the Langford family for over a century until my grandfather gambled it away. Buying it back was my go
al for as long as I can remember.”
“Do you always achieve your goals?” she asked, thinking of his single-minded search for Genie.
“Those that are within a man’s power,” he said without elaboration. She wondered what might be beyond this remarkable man’s power, but life and death were the only ones she could conceive of. The thought produced a shiver of apprehension for some unaccountable reason.
She dismissed it by examining the rest of the cabin. Up a narrow wooden staircase, a loft area contained another bed festooned with a mosquito net hung from the ceiling. Genie scampered up the stairs ahead of Zoe who went halfway then climbed down again.
“Can I sleep up here?” Genie called, peering down at them, her head barely topping the timber balustrade that edged the loft area.
James actually glanced at Zoe in consultation and she nodded. “If you like.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Historic moment. I think we just agreed on something. This calls for a celebration.”
“Why do I suspect you planned for her to sleep up there all along?”
“Because it means you’ll be down here with me.”
Feeling flustered because she hadn’t considered this most obvious consequence, she looked away, pretending rapt interest in the view from the open front door. It would have been less disturbing if James had taken the loft bed, leaving Genie to share with Zoe downstairs. But it was too late to alter the arrangement now, Genie was already bouncing on the loft bed, having swathed the mosquito netting around herself to create a secret hideaway.
Zoe tried anyway. “What if she’s scared during the night? Or walks in her sleep?”
“You’re close by, and there’s a safety gate at the top of the stairs to keep her from wandering,” he said pointedly. “Face it, you’re sleeping with me.”
“Sleeping in the same room,” she said, correcting him as a tingling sensation wound its way from the back of her neck all the way down her body. Sleeping was probably wishful thinking anyway. She was unlikely to get a wink of rest with James occupying the other bed, barely an arm’s width away.
He regarded her with undisguised amusement, the sparkle in his eyes reminding her abruptly of Genie when she was up to mischief. Like father like daughter? It was thoroughly disquieting, given the kind of mischief that would probably appeal to James.
She shook herself mentally and turned her attention to more mundane matters. “What do we do about lunch?”
“The cook packed some chicken kebabs. I’ll barbecue them while you make some salad. You’ll find the ingredients in the Esky.”
So much for seduction, she thought irritably, then chided herself. She was annoyed when he turned her on and annoyed when he didn’t. Some people were never satisfied.
A search of the cooler turned up a container of ready-prepared salad, so all she had to do was add the dressing she found in a plastic bottle. By the time she carried the bowl outside, the air was blue with smoke from the open fire and fragrant with the succulent smell of barbecuing meat. A kookaburra eyed them hungrily from a nearby branch. When James tossed a chunk of meat into the air, the bird swooped and caught it before it had a chance to hit the ground.
Genie clapped her hands delightedly. “Can I try?”
James gave her some meat and the kookaburra repeated the trick. Zoe couldn’t remember ever seeing the little girl so happy. At some level did the child know this was her land? Much as it pained Zoe to admit it, Genie had the blood of the Dunkells and Jamieson Langford in her veins. What ties did she have with Zoe herself which could possibly compare?
The thought cast a shadow over her enjoyment of the meal, although the char-grilled chicken kebabs were delicious. It was followed by twists of damper, the bread dough being wrapped around the end of a stick and cupped at the end with a finger. They roasted the twists in the fire until crisp all around, then James showed them how to spoon golden syrup into the dent at the top. It made a novel dessert, although Genie had to be reminded to let the damper cool a little before she ate it off the stick.
The meal was washed down with drinks kept cool in the Esky—lemon cordial for Genie and a locally produced Hunter Valley Semillon for James and Zoe. Around them the bush drowsed although James assured Genie that the abundant wildlife would emerge around sunset. He explained that during the day the shy kangaroos and wallabies retreated to the deep shade and slept the hours away.
Zoe knew just how they felt. The wooden bench on which she sat allowed her to rest against the sun-warmed timbers of the cabin. The ever-present drone of insects and the chatter of the birds, added to the effect of the food and wine, combined to lull her into a heavy-lidded torpor.
The cabin in the clearing was a perfect setting for a honeymoon, she thought dreamily. All at once, her mind filled with a vision of herself and James, arriving to spend their wedding night here. With an odd certainty, she knew it was their wedding night because of the way he lifted her, laughing, into his arms to carry her across the threshold. And also because of the delicious thrill of anticipation she felt surging through her.
She wasn’t alone. In the dark pools of his eyes, she saw such fierce desire for her that it was just as well she was in his arms because her legs wouldn’t have been able to support her.
They didn’t have to. When he set her on her feet, he kept a strong arm around her, bracing her, as his mouth found hers. Flames leapt through her, searing away the last remaining barriers between them.
His touch ignited a brushfire within her, the flames tearing along every nerve ending until she trembled with the force of her answering desire. She gasped as he slid the straps of her fuchsia silk going-away dress off her shoulders and pressed his lips to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat then trailed kisses across her breasts. Her nipples hardened and the cabin spun around her.
“How much do you want me?” James asked, his rasping tone a reminder that he, too, had counted the days until they could be alone like this.
There was only one answer. “I want you more than I ever thought it was possible to want a man.”
His eyes gleamed a challenge. “In your bed, or in your life?”
Her head lifted and her jaw firmed. “Both, James. Everything I am and everything I have is yours for the taking.”
He needed no second invitation. With a groan of capitulation, he slid his hand under her knees and lifted her against his chest again, hugging her tightly before he placed her carefully on the old-fashioned bed that took up one corner of the cabin.
Her breathing became ragged as she watched him strip off his white linen shirt, revealing a broad expanse of tanned chest. When his hands went to the zipper of his pants, her tension mounted almost beyond bearing. Soon, she promised herself, she would know the ecstasy of his possession and he would know, beyond doubt, how much he was loved in return.
When James stretched out full-length beside her, she thought she would explode with happiness. In wonder, she lifted a hand to his cheek, noting the rasp of a day’s growth of beard against her knuckles. He turned his face into her palm, kissing it, and a smile of pure joy spilled across her features.
Gradually, she became aware that the roughness under her hand came, not from a day-old beard, but from the timber boards of the cabin. She had fallen asleep, and her head was resting against the cabin wall.
She sat up, feeling her face flame. The vividness of the daydream left her feeling shaken. Her fantasy must have been fueled by James’s talk about his forebears spending their honeymoon night in the cabin. How else could she explain the vision of James carrying her over the cabin threshold and taking her to bed as if it was his right as her husband?
It wasn’t as if she wanted it to happen. So what was going on here?
She looked around. The lunch things had been cleared away and the fire doused. The shadows were much deeper. How long had she drowsed?
When she scouted around the immediate area, she found no sign of James or Genie. Despite her inclinations, she kne
w better than to set off in search of them. This was still untamed wilderness and it was easy to get lost. She suppressed a shiver of apprehension. Had Genie somehow wandered off and James had gone to look for her? Surely he would have alerted Zoe?
Her anger grew and she hugged her arms across her chest. Even if they’d only gone for a walk, they should have let her know instead of allowing her to wake up alone and disoriented, her imagination going into overdrive. If something did happen to them, she wouldn’t know where to start looking.
Fear fueled her anger until she was fuming by the time they walked out of the rain forest into the clearing. Relief swept through her as Genie ran up to her, her smile wide and her eyes alight. “Guess what we found, Mummy?”
Zoe turned blazing eyes on James but managed to keep her anger in check as she hugged the child. The feel of Genie’s small, warm body next to her heart dragged at her like a physical pain and she blinked hard to clear her brimming eyes. “What did you find, sweetheart?”
“Animal tracks. James showed me what made them. Look.” Squirming out of Zoe’s embrace, Genie dropped to the ground. “This is a koala, and this is a kangaroo.”
With her finger in the dust the little girl drew a mark like a child’s handprint for the koala and a track in the shape of a V with the inside arm almost twice the length of the outside arm for the kangaroo. “And if you want to see a koala, you have to look down, not up,” Genie continued, almost breathless with excitement. “James showed me the funny-shaped poo they leave under their tree so you know there’s a koala up in the branches.”
“James is a regular fountain of knowledge,” Zoe commented dryly, the irony in her tone directed unmistakably at the man in question. He might be Genie’s father, but he had no right to take her off into the bush where anything might have happened to her. Zoe managed to restrain her temper long enough to send Genie inside to wash her hands and rest on her bed with a picture book until dinnertime.