by Margaret Way
“You mean he doesn’t remember he has a beautiful little son?” Her skin was alight with a fine glow of inner anger.
He shrugged. “I’m not saying Owen doesn’t love Robbie. Of course he does. He’s always ensured Delma and Robbie have everything they want and need. Except for his time.”
All around her was confusion, resentment, hurt…passion. Where was her habitual cool?
“Aren’t you being disloyal to Dad?” she queried, her voice edged with censure. “Your mentor and partner?”
He didn’t look away from her transparent face. “I don’t think so. I’ll say it in front of him any day. In fact I have. I just want to be sure you’re seeing it. Turning your back on things doesn’t help.”
“I’m going home.”
She looked to him like an exquisite, wounded child.
“You don’t have a home anymore,” he gently reminded her.
“I still have my grandfather.”
“Maybe, but you don’t know your father as well as you think, Eden. He’s a complex man. Having found you he isn’t simply going to let you go away. Certainly not to your grandfather. He hates him and that won’t change. I’m sure Owen has offered to find you a position in a good legal firm. If he realises you won’t be all that comfortable staying at the house, he’ll build you one close by. Owen is a very persuasive and forceful man. He will find a reason to keep you here, as any father would.”
“But you want me to go? Let’s really have this out.”
“Of course I don’t!” was his emphatic reply. “I understand perfectly why Owen needs you. He loves you. Finding you has made up for all the misery of his past.”
“Yet you feel something bad is going to happen? I have to rely on your psychological analysis?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m only asking you to steel yourself for a few problems. Owen will be changing his will. He’s already spoken to me about it. I expect—”
“He certainly hasn’t spoken to me,” Eden cut in. “I don’t need money.”
His handsome mouth compressed. “It can cure a lot of life’s ills. In view of what you suffered yourself you’re more than entitled to your share. Life can turn on us.” He would never forget how he had to work to rescue the family.
“You think Delma will be fearful on account of her son?” Eden asked carefully, staring away at a glittering lake where a blue crane, a brolga, had alighted. “Who, incidentally, is my little brother?”
“Half brother. He’s Delma’s child. Jealousy is taking over a bit too much of Delma’s life. I suspect she has worries about Robbie’s inheritance as well as the security of her own position. She must be wondering where the bulk of the money is going. Her nose is thoroughly out of joint on any number of fronts. As you’re so intelligent and intuitive I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you.”
“Doesn’t money create a problem,” she said wryly. “I’m more interested in family. I know Delma will never see me as part of her family. But I’ve only come for a holiday. Tell me, Lang Forsyth—” she tilted her head “—since you’ve firmly injected yourself into my life. What do you think I should do?” she challenged.
“I don’t like fighting with you,” he said, giving a deep sigh.
“I don’t like fighting, either,” she replied as though there was no love lost between them. “Please answer the question.”
His eyes turned brilliant and hard, like precious stones. “Simple. Get on with your own life. Move out of the house when the holiday is over. You won’t have to search for a job. Owen could find you one in half a minute. For that matter so could I. The same goes for a place of your own. You won’t be alone. You’ll see your father and Robbie often. You’ll make a whole lot of new friends. You’ll meet a lot of young people at the party.”
“I have friends,” she said sharply. “I have a good job.” And indeed the freedom to come and go as she pleased.
“In your grandfather’s firm. What about Sinclair?”
“I don’t think he’ll be coming back.”
“You’re not sure. He might feel a whole lot better in a year. I expect people have to be told something?”
The understatement of the year. “It seems to me your real worry is Delma.”
“Good God!” He struck his temple with a kind of despair. “These days Delma is a real pain in the neck, but I can’t help feeling sorry for her. She’s up against the wall.”
“Can’t she search inside herself for some compassion?” Eden countered. “For that matter why can’t you? You don’t want to understand. Or forgive.” She was more and more agitated, his whole aura overcoming her.
“Eden, I’m sorry!” He put out a hand in apology. “Please don’t run away.”
But she was already on the move, unable to quench her nerves. She was still in a state of trauma. Trying to absorb her mother’s premature death, worst of all handle the grief. It was a great joy, certainly, to be with her father and Robbie but she had the feeling Lang Forsyth was right. Her father would exert his powerful will. He didn’t want her to go away. He had suggested a course of action only that morning. It was possible he wanted in the most benevolent way to take control of her life.
As for Lang Forsyth! She couldn’t bear the tempestuous feelings she had for him. He made her come alive, but there were so many raw edges she wanted to resist him.
She let her flying feet take her further into the thicket of eucalypts with their lovely nostalgic aromas. Soon she would have to stop and confront Lang. And there was the rub! She wanted him to take her into his arms, to cover her mouth with his own. She wanted to lie against his chest. She wanted him so close. Her habitual composure was fragmenting into shards of emotional glass. She was, finally, in a man’s power.
She didn’t see the wallaby that broke cover of the trees, scenting her approach. When she did lift her head its sudden appearance, however unthreatening, gave her such a fright she let out a strangled little scream. It caused a chain reaction. Instead of hopping away the wallaby, unpredictable like its big brother the kangaroo, bounded towards her, eyeing her with curiosity, suspicion and alarm. She was confused, her feet rooted to the ground. When it was less than two bounds away Lang closed in, driving it off with a vigorous wave of a branch.
“I’m sorry. That was stupid.” She was apologetic, embarrassed. “I know they’re harmless.”
“Sometimes they aren’t!” His voice was like flint. “We haven’t had any wallabies in so close. That fellow will probably make it back to the bush.”
She lifted the hat off her head and fanned her face, struggling to regain a semblance of normality. “That’s enough excitement for today.”
He watched her, unable to keep his eyes off her, full of hard aches and driving longings. “Is it?” He was mad to kiss her. Why the hell not? There had to be the time for living dangerously.
He saw the swift understanding in her beautiful sapphire eyes, the start of violent excitement in her slender body as realisation hit her. This had to happen, he thought. He reached for her, his touch electric, drawing her hard up against him, so she was standing, light-limbed and trembling in his grasp.
“You’re exquisite!”
He could even taste her. He savoured one long moment before he claimed her sweet, tender mouth. He didn’t have to search for it. It was there, as though she offered it to him because she knew resistance was futile? Or because desire as powerful as his own was over-riding everything else.
All the passion he had suppressed came drumming to the fore. He brought up his hands, held her face, before descending into kissing her; mouth and body hard, his kiss was deep and ravenous like a starving man presented with luscious fruit. He knew he should keep a rein on his feelings but control had simply abandoned him. He couldn’t contain his feelings. They were fierce, agonizing, full of a wild splendour. The tiny moan that escaped her only served to fan the flames…
The green and gold world around them faded to nothing. There was only this searing ring of fire…<
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When he finally released her, how young and poignant she was revealed to be. Not a woman of the world at all. Beautiful and vulnerable, she appeared little more than a girl. His hands moved to her delicate bare shoulders, his muscles tense as he kept them from straying to her breasts. From his height he could see she wore no bra, or the bodice had some lining to it. All he was aware of was the impeccable sculpture of her satin curves, the rose tips aroused and like berries. What had gotten into him? Sexual obsession? His body was taut like a high-tension wire. He was crazy for this girl. He didn’t even think he could wait much longer before he made love to her. He wanted to draw her into a world of limitless dimension. It was too late to be careful. For once in his life he was in much too deep.
He was older by some eight years. Far more experienced. He knew instinctively she had much to learn though she stole his every breath. Her eyes flickered, then opened wide. The pupils were dilated, the irises, a deep purple.
“That was bound to happen,” he rasped. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
She was so shaken for a moment she couldn’t find her voice. “Is that what you call it, a kiss?” she managed.
“You think it was much more?”
“More like a takeover.” She ran the tip of her tongue over her sensitive lips. They pulsed from the pressure of his. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Maybe it was in the nature of a warning,” he suggested. “Kisses like that can lead anywhere.”
Right to his bed.
She didn’t answer, but looked away, trying to retain a veneer of composure.
Lang bent and retrieved her hat. “We’d better get going,” he said quietly. “Owen is taking us to lunch.”
“Yes, I know.” She allowed herself to glance at him briefly. Those silver eyes were pure voltage. “I suppose I don’t have a scrap of lipstick left?”
“You wouldn’t know it,” he examined her. “Your mouth is as red as a rose. But you could come here to me,” he said, with a return to his normal sardonic tones.
“You think you can control me anytime?” Spirit flashed in her black-lashed eyes.
“I don’t think I’m controlling you at all,” he told her bluntly. “You wanted to be kissed as much as I wanted to kiss you, so don’t give me the ingénue routine. I only meant there’s a leaf in your hair.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She went to him, feeling foolish, dipping her dark head. Half hidden in this grove of trees the atmosphere was immensely intimate, yet so sexually claustrophobic her body was reacting in a kind of panic. She wasn’t any innocent maiden but, God, he made her feel like one. In fact, he was playing her like a flute.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NO ONE was better at throwing a good party than Delma, Lang thought.
Everything was memorable, the mix of people, the level of enjoyment, the music, the flowers. So Delma had a lot of money to play around with? Still, not everyone in their moneyed circle did it half so well. The food was wonderful, so was the wine, there was champagne throughout except for a few extraordinary people who didn’t care for bubbles.
He was deep in conversation with a friend, talking about his favourite topic of the moment, the country club, when he sensed Eden had walked back into the living room. It was filled with people obviously in a great mood, but they all took time off to stare.
Eden was a dream walking. When she had first come down the staircase to greet him time had stopped. She looked fantastic, incandescent, as beautiful as he knew she would be on this night of nights. He was thirty-two years old, well experienced with women; highly successful at everything he did; yet he had never suffered such powerful reactions. In a way they had become dangerous intrusions into his ordered life. Much too quickly Eden had woven her spell. He was beginning to wonder if she had picked him as her victim? Women were capable of being goddesses.
He’d been a little late arriving having flown back from a quick trip to Marella to see his mother, so there was already a crowd. He spotted many of his friends as he glanced into the huge brilliantly lit living room. The house was abuzz with laughter, conversation and lovely relaxing background music. It all faded as Eden walked towards him, her eyes seeking his. He was virtually spellbound like some poor fool without defences.
She wore her hair long and wavy, fuller than usual, her unique eyes full of sparkle and welcome for him. He couldn’t look away from her though he heard someone calling his name trying to attract his attention. To no avail. There was a delicate flush of excitement on her cheeks. She wore his sapphires around her throat. They looked possessed of an uncommon radiance. Sapphires and diamonds were at her ears. They were a gift from her father. Owen had told him all about it and how he proposed to surprise Eden the night of the party. Her evening dress was short, showing her beautiful, delicate legs. It was made of some exquisite filigree silver lace that reminded him of something. Some beautiful thing tucked away in his tangle of memories, something his mother had worn perhaps? The dress skimmed Eden’s body and left one shoulder bare. She came to him a graceful creature yet he had the curious feeling she was the moth that was walking to the flame. There was still enough of him left to be dangerous and he was letting her get far too close.
“It’s lovely to see you, Lang,” she said as she approached, her smile so full of joy and excitement he would have liked to capture it on camera forever.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologised as she joined him. They had gone right past any ordinary polite greeting. He bent his head and kissed the satin cheek she presented, enchanted by her fragrance. “You look a dream.”
“Why, thank you.” Pleasure shone in her blue-violet eyes. “You look marvellous, too.” She took him in at a glance. “Dad told me you’d flown over to see your family? I hope they’re well?”
“They’re fine. I told them all about you which means you’ll be getting an invitation very soon.”
She was clearly delighted and surprised. “To see Marella. To meet the family? How lovely. I’ll look forward to it.” She glanced past his white dinner-jacketed shoulder towards the scene in the living room. “Everyone seems to have accepted me.”
“Be certain of that,” he said just a shade sardonic. “You’re Owen’s beautiful only daughter restored to him…”
Hours later, his friend, Harry Richardson was among those staring, in the process losing track of their conversation. “You have to forgive me, Lang,” he said, in a slightly hoarse, confidential voice. “But who is she really?”
Irritation etched lines around his mouth. “What the devil are you talking about, Harry, she’s Owen’s long-lost daughter.”
“I know, my boy, I know. But God what a story! She’s absolutely beautiful, isn’t she? And so cultured. I’m quite impressed. In fact I’m devastated that I’m an old man approaching fifty.”
“With a wife and four kids,” Lang reminded him laconically. “Eden looks what she is. A young woman of excellent background. She comes from a legal family. She is herself a lawyer.”
“Clever girl!” Harry chortled admiringly. “Legal family, eh? What firm?”
“You’re very curious, aren’t you?”
“Everyone is!” Harry maintained very dryly, eyeing Eden’s progress across the room. It was slow as many guests stopped her, genuinely enthralled, wanting to get to know her better. “I love the dress. She seems to be heading towards you, my boy. You’re such a devil with the ladies. They’re all drawn to you. Too much success for your own good, I’d say.”
“Thanks, Harry.”
But it was Lara Hansen who was most desperate to find Lang alone. She took the opportunity to swoop on him before Owen’s love child could fight her way across the room. Of course they had been introduced on arrival, Lara was quite intelligent enough to realise she had better make a big fuss of the young woman who had so suddenly and dramatically entered the Carters’ lives. She knew all about Delma’s private feelings. She and Delma had grown close. Though there wer
e seven years between them, they shared the same interests, and physical pursuits, sailing, playing tennis and golf. Delma was too anxious about too many things not to confide in her. Lara knew Delma had been fearful for a long time something would occur to drive a wedge between her and her husband. Now came Owen’s grown-up love child out of the blue!
She might look like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth but according to Delma the girl was working behind the scenes to exert her growing influence on her father. In reality Owen begrudged Delma nothing but Delma had confided she was worried Robbie was going to lose much of his inheritance. It didn’t matter so much about her—or so she said—but Delma was becoming really depressed about what changes Owen would make to his will. Not that anyone would associate Delma with depression looking at her tonight. She had gone overboard on her dress, the ultimate in glamour in her favourite scarlet.
When Eden paused to speak to a group of guests, Lara made her move, reaching Lang and locking her fingers around his arm. She was almost sick with wanting this guy but no matter what she did, and she had turned all her feminine wiles on him, Lang managed to keep their relationship fairly casual. It all made for a deeply unsatisfied state.
“So when are you going to dance with me?” she asked, with a provocative smile, looking up into his handsome, enigmatic face.
“Lara, how are you?” Lang immediately turned away from Harry who wiggled his fingers at Lara and moved off.
“This is a party,” she pointed out with a deliberate pout of her full lips. “You’re not supposed to talk business.”
“How do you know I was talking business,” he teased.
“That’s the centre of your life, isn’t it?”
“I’m starting to realise it is.” His vibrant voice turned wry.
Lara’s blue eyes swept the room. “Owen’s love child appears to be winning everyone over,” she said lightly, not missing Lang’s sudden frown. He could look so severe sometimes.
“I don’t think Owen would appreciate that term, Lara, any more than I do. I wouldn’t like Eden to hear it, either.”
