by Valerie Parv
Left alone with James, Zoe couldn’t help remembering the man in her daydream and the way the bush air had been charged with the force of the love between them. When he had carried her into the cabin, his desire for her had been unmistakable, as he embraced her tightly enough to threaten her breathing.
It was only a fantasy, she reminded herself. She mustn’t confuse a daydream with fact. James would never be her lover, far less her husband and the father of her children. The only child he wanted was Genie. His behavior this afternoon clearly demonstrated it.
“Did you have a pleasant rest?” he asked.
She tossed her head. “No thanks to you. How do you think I felt waking up to find you and Genie missing?”
He frowned. “Hardly missing. You looked so peaceful it seemed a shame to wake you up.”
She felt anything but peaceful now. His nearness reminded her forcefully of her dream—of what she could never have. The yearning pulled at her, making her achingly conscious of him. Braced with his legs apart and palms grazing his hips, he looked as tall and immutable as the giant blue gums around them. She dragged in a deep breath. “All the same, you could have told me you were taking her.” Angry with herself for the betraying tremor coloring her voice, she brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. “If anything had happened—” She broke off, horrified at how close she had come to saying, “to you.”
The fight ebbed out of him. “You’re entitled to be upset. I should have told you before we left. Of all people, I know how it feels to have your loved ones vanish without explanation.”
The abrupt change swept her defenses aside. “It’s all right,” she heard herself saying. “You don’t need my permission to go for a walk.”
His gaze hardened again as his expression underwent a sea change. “I wasn’t suggesting I did. While I regret causing you undue concern, you need to understand that Genevieve is my daughter. She’s now in my care, and I will decide what’s best for her.”
A shiver shook Zoe, not only because the sun was low in the sky. At his blunt reminder of her status, iced water trickled along her veins. “Don’t feel you have to spare my feelings,” she said sarcastically. “Ruth warned me what you were really like.”
Anger clouded his features, but his voice was rigidly controlled as he demanded, “This sounds fascinating. Based on Ruth’s testimony, unreliable though it was, what have you decided I’m really like?”
She had nothing left to lose. “You’re a heartless tyrant who only cares about getting your own way. You don’t want a child. You want living proof of your virility.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth Zoe wished she could snatch them back. She had allowed worry over Genie’s absence to overcome reason. Her brief taste of his virility made the accusation not only stupid but reckless in the extreme. “I shouldn’t have said that,” she murmured, unnerved by the fierceness inflaming his expression.
“You think I need to prove my virility?” he asked in a dangerous, low voice.
The devil’s choice loomed before her. If she said no, she admitted that he had already proved it to her. If she said yes, she invited a demonstration. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze with a certainty she was far from feeling. “Do you?”
For answer he dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled her against him until her breasts were crushed against his chest. Through her filmy blouse, the heat of his fingers seeped along her bones, pooling deep in her core until she arched against him in unthinking response.
With a muffled gasp, he tightened his hold and his mouth closed over hers, warm, sensual, giving and demanding all at once. Her senses reeled. This wasn’t a kiss. This was a gift, a threat, a promise, although of what, she hardly dared consider. She only knew that no man had ever affected her like this.
She wasn’t alone, she realized distantly. James’s breathing came in sharp gasps and tremors swept through him in time with the unmistakable pulsing of his need. She had done that to him, driving him close to the limits of control, she thought on a surge of elation. She might only be a hindrance to him, but he wouldn’t forget her in a hurry.
It came to her that she wouldn’t easily forget him. For a long time, every man would be measured against James’s overwhelming masculinity. Every kiss would be compared with the fire he ignited in her blood.
Try as she might she couldn’t make herself regret the fact. If he did no more than kiss her like this, James had given her a taste of what a real man might offer her, and what she could give in return. Married to Andrew, with no other basis for comparison, she might have gone to her grave in ignorance.
James stepped away from her, anger vibrating in every line of his stance. “Do you still think Ruth told you the truth about me?”
Pride wouldn’t let her reveal the full extent of his impact on her. “She didn’t describe what you were like as a lover, so I wouldn’t know,” she raged at him. “But if you were as high-handed with her as you are with me, it’s no wonder she couldn’t wait to get away.”
He looked as if he would like to break something in two, his powerful hands flexing at his sides. He siphoned off the energy by pacing to the edge of the clearing, pausing to speak over his shoulder. “For your information, I wasn’t the reason Ruth left. The truth is, she was jealous of Genevieve.”
“Jealous? I don’t understand.”
“She didn’t want to share me with anyone, not even her own child. No matter how much I assured her of my love, she resented any attention I gave to the baby, however minimal. She saw Genevieve as her rival and couldn’t stand it.”
Unwillingly Zoe recalled how Ruth had brushed aside reports of her baby’s progress yet eagerly regaled Zoe with details of her own activities when she came to collect Genie at the end of each day. Nevertheless, there were two sides to every story. “Perhaps she found it hard to cope alone after you returned to the Middle East,” she ventured.
His eyes darkened. “She was hardly alone. She had Grace and her husband as well as a full staff dancing attendance on her.”
But she didn’t have the most vital support—her husband’s. Zoe avoided voicing the thought. She was only too well aware of how lonely it felt to lack the support of the most important person in your life.
James read her expression anyway. “Just because I was kept apart from my family doesn’t mean I didn’t care. They were in my thoughts every minute of every day I was away. Not all men are like your late husband, Zoe.”
The blunt reminder that his investigation had included an assessment of Andrew’s character made Zoe recoil in shock, but she forced herself to focus on the present. “Then why didn’t you come back?”
He ran wiry fingers through the thick waves of his hair. “Do you think I haven’t blamed myself for that ever since Ruth took Genevieve away? I can’t change what happened. But I can move heaven and earth to ensure nothing comes between us ever again.”
Nothing and no one, including her, Zoe read between the lines. Once again there was no attempt to explain his delayed return and, if truth be told, it had nothing to do with her. Finding out he was caught up with business or had a mistress in the Middle East might make it easier to blame him, but it wouldn’t change the present situation. Even the impact of their kiss wouldn’t alter his course, although she was sure he had felt it as strongly as she had. He intended to take Genie back, end of discussion.
She was beginning to accept that her child was lost to her, she realized. She wouldn’t put it past James to have arranged this trip to wear down her resistance. Despite her previous suspicions, seduction hadn’t been part of his plan. His kiss was too spontaneous and far, far too mutual, she’d swear to it. But he could show what a splendid father he was. She had already begun to accept him in that role—and herself as beaten.
To hell with that, she thought fiercely. Maybe she was beaten. But not yet. James was staring out into the bush, his back turned to her. His broad shoulders were set and he gripped the low branch of a eucalypt as if
he would snap it.
She strode across the clearing and reached to touch his shoulder. When he turned around she gasped in shock. Underneath his tan his skin looked gray. His mouth was compressed into a tight line and perspiration beaded his forehead. His eyes were cloudy with suffering.
“James, what is it?” she asked. When he didn’t seem to hear, she touched the back of her hand to his forehead and he winced as if the light touch hurt. “My God, you’re on fire.”
“Headache,” he rasped. “Hit me out of the blue.”
“Can I get you something, some medication?”
Speaking seemed to cost him an effort. “Didn’t bring anything with me.”
She remembered the first-aid kit in her bag. “I have some painkillers with me. They’re not very strong, but they might help a little. I’ll get them. For goodness’ sake sit down. You look as if you’re about to fall down.”
His lack of argument spoke volumes as he pried himself free of the branch and allowed her to guide him to the picnic setting where he settled as if felled. She was back in seconds with the painkillers and he gulped them down, beyond noticing that she sat with him until they took effect.
When he had recovered sufficiently, she stood up. “These headaches can’t be normal. I’m taking you back to the homestead so you can see a doctor tonight.”
“You and whose army?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.
He was definitely improving. “I don’t need an army. I own the painkillers.” It was cruel, but all was fair with a patient as stubborn as James.
He grinned shakily. “You know how to hurt a man when he’s down.”
She affected a shrug, more worried than she wanted him to know. “Whatever works.”
He climbed to his feet, the effort not lost on her. “It isn’t fair to you and Genevieve to have me collapse in the middle of the bush, so I’ll come quietly, officer.”
She snorted. “That’ll be the day.”
He sobered. “I won’t be much good behind the wheel. Can you handle a four-wheel-drive?”
She hadn’t thought of that, but she couldn’t back out now. James needed medical help, and he wouldn’t get it in the wilderness. She squared her shoulders. “Now is as good a time as any for me to learn.”
Chapter Eight
Thanks to Zoe’s painkillers, the throbbing headache gradually dulled to a tolerable ache, but James knew the relief wouldn’t last. He cursed himself for not packing his medication, but he’d been sure he could manage without it for one night and it didn’t go with driving in any case.
Fat lot of good that bit of bravado had done him. Now he didn’t have either the painkillers or the steadiness of vision to tackle the bush track in the dark. He wasn’t fooled by Zoe’s assurance that she could handle it. Wilderness driving was a challenge for an experienced driver. To someone new to off-road vehicles it was unthinkable.
She made a habit of doing the unthinkable, he noticed with a surge of unwilling admiration. Dragging herself out of the mire of a bad marriage to remake her life and career after her husband died. Making a home for Genevieve when her family couldn’t be traced. Coming with him to White Stars when it was probably the last place Zoe wanted to be.
He had to hand it to her. She was a fighter.
She was incredibly passionate, too, judging from the all-too-brief kiss they had shared. His investigators had reported that her late husband had been jealously possessive, so she probably didn’t know the half of it herself. Exploring her full potential in that area would be a positive pleasure—for both of them, James thought, then chided himself. It was pointless to torment himself with the remembered warmth of her mouth or the softness of her slender body in his arms when he could offer her only an uncertain future. Today’s fiasco proved it beyond doubt.
He made himself get up and move. Luckily they hadn’t fully unloaded the car so it wouldn’t take long to get under way. Zoe had already gathered up the food and kitchen utensils and had stowed them aboard.
He smiled as Genevieve appeared at the cabin door, dragging a packed sleeping bag in one hand and clutching a Vegemite sandwich in the other. Zoe had managed to make a game of their need to drive home in the dark, turning a potential disappointment into a new adventure. She had short-circuited Genevieve’s protests by telling her a story about the possums, wombats and kangaroos and how they were most active at night. Now the little girl couldn’t wait to get going.
Funny, but he couldn’t recall Ruth ever being so considerate with their child. The sight brought a pang that was hard to dismiss. Zoe was a much better mother than Ruth had ever been. A much better wife? He shoved the thought aside. As the one coming between her and Genevieve, he’d be the last person to interest Zoe. Under the circumstances it was probably just as well.
She looked pale but resolute as she got behind the wheel, and at her shaky smile his respect for her notched even higher. “Ready to go?” she asked.
“Maybe I should drive.”
She frowned in denial. “You can barely see straight. And you daren’t take too many more painkillers until you’ve seen a doctor.”
The hell of it was, she was right. “Very well, let’s get under way. Just take it slowly and for Pete’s sake watch out for kangaroos bounding across the track in front of us.”
She gave him a what-do-I-look-like glance and slid the powerful vehicle into gear. Like most four-wheel-drives, this one had freewheeling hubs, which James had locked into place for driving off-road. The low-range gears allowed tremendous pressure to be exerted through the tires so the vehicle would grip no matter how muddy, slippery and uneven the terrain. But four-wheel-drives could also get into trouble. They could get bogged and could also roll on steep slopes if not approached head-on.
Zoe handled the first few kilometers easily enough, but the track was reasonably level. While they saw plenty of kangaroos and even one big red who kept pace with them for a distance, none had crossed their path.
She looked at him. “You can breathe out now. I can do this.”
“So far,” he muttered then could have kicked himself. The last thing she needed was him undermining her confidence. He compensated by adding, “You’re doing great.”
“How about you? How are you doing?”
“Vision’s still blurry but the headache has eased. I’ll be fine.” If she believed that, he thought, then he had a bridge he could sell her. All the same he was relieved when she accepted his assurance at face value and returned her attention to the driving.
In the back seat Genevieve was fast asleep. He felt a momentary pang of envy. What with the painkillers and the stress, he’d give a lot to be able to follow his daughter’s example, but the worst hills were ahead of them. Zoe was going to need his guidance to get over them in one piece.
“I enjoyed the story you told Genevieve while we were packing,” he said, hoping conversation would help him to keep alert. “Did you make it up?”
She nodded. “When I was little, I always wanted to be a children’s writer.”
“You’re good at it. What happened?”
In the dim light he saw her shrug. “Life. The need to earn a living. Becoming a nanny let me have a career, somewhere to live and still be able to work with children.”
He remembered the details supplied by the private investigator. “Your parents’ work took them all over the world, so you couldn’t live at home, could you?”
“Why are we even having this discussion?” she muttered furiously. “Your spies have told you everything about me—even, it seems, about my disastrous marriage.”
“I only know the bare facts,” he asserted. “They don’t explain why you made the choices you did or how you felt about them.”
“I was young, foolish, and mistook Andrew’s fixation on me for love. It wasn’t hard because I was already vulnerable. I’d never known a real home, and when you’re a nanny, you’re always losing the children as they go to school or move away.”
No wonder she was fin
ding it so hard to let Genevieve go, he concluded. Finally having a child she thought of as her own must have seemed like a miracle after all the upheavals she’d endured in her life, first with her gypsy-parents and then as a nanny. It was a damned shame. She deserved a lot better. And it didn’t improve his mood to know he was adding to her distress.
“Then you can see why it’s vital to let me give Genevieve a stable home environment,” he stated. “You were hurt by your upbringing. I’m sure you want something better for her.”
“My upbringing has nothing to do with this,” she snapped. “I do want what’s best for her and I was doing a good job of providing it.”
He knew the pain was clouding his judgment, but it didn’t help that she refused to listen to reason. “By farming her out to your neighbor or a playgroup whenever your work demanded your attention?” he asked.
She swung the wheel to dodge a tree branch jutting out into the road. “What about your work? It was important enough to keep you away from home when Genie was a baby.”
He winced and not only because the car’s sudden movement jolted his head back against the headrest, making him see stars. When they subsided he said, “Despite what you evidently believe, my work is not my whole life. My greatest satisfaction came from building the business from scratch. Now I’m content to hand over the day-to-day running of the corporation to Brian Dengate. You have to be like a parent whose child has grown, knowing when your job is done and it’s time to let go and move on.”
Was he sending her a message—let go and move on? Zoe noted that James’s advice didn’t include any thoughts on how to accomplish this miracle when the child was flesh-and-blood instead of a corporation. Zoe still didn’t know how she was going to leave Genie at White Stars when the time came. It would be like leaving a piece of herself behind.
She drove the thought away by concentrating on getting them down the steep hill ahead. Getting up was bad enough, but she could already feel the wheels slipping on the rough surface as they began their descent.
