by Valerie Parv
“Then I’ll have the chef make you some ice cream,” he promised.
Genie cocked her head to one side. “What’s a chef?”
“It’s a person who cooks for other people,” he explained, sounding slightly bemused.
“That’s a funny name for a mummy.”
His glance flickered to Zoe, his interest aroused. “What else do mummies do besides cook dinner?”
Genie looked scornful, as if his ignorance was beyond belief. “They do lots of things. Put bandages on hurts, help at playgroup and show nice men houses.”
“Do they indeed?”
Genie nodded. “Auntie Julie took me and Simon to playgroup because Mummy had to show a nice man a house.”
Zoe’s heart sank. In her innocence Genie had confirmed James’s suspicion that Zoe put her work first and her child second.
But he only said, “Guess what? I’m the man your mummy showed the house to.”
Genie inspected his dark suit and tie gravely. “Mummy said he lives in the country. Do you live in the country?”
He nodded solemnly. “Where I live you can ride for hours and still be on my land.”
The child’s eyes went as round as saucers. “You mean ride real live horses?”
Something shattered inside Zoe. Unwittingly James had mentioned the one subject dearest to Genie’s heart. She was horse crazy. Even her Barbie dolls had their own horse who was cared for as carefully as a real one.
On a visit to the Royal Easter Show last year, the horses had been Genie’s sole interest. Other children had spent their pocket money on show bags filled with sweets and toys. Genie came home smelling of hay and horses, her expression blissful. She wore the same look of transcendence now as James pulled some photos out of his wallet. From where she stood, Zoe saw they were pictures of Arabian horses. How could Fate have given James such an unfair advantage?
It was hard enough to endure the sight of James and Genie so close together, two sleek dark heads almost touching. Zoe had always known Genie’s coloring didn’t come from Ruth. Now the source was all too apparent, as was the rapport between them as they looked at the photographs.
Zoe levered herself upright against the door frame. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, she instructed herself. This was only a slight setback. “Thank James for showing you the photos,” she instructed, proud that the tremors racking her didn’t show in her voice.
“Thank you, James,” Genie said obediently, but her dejected posture tore at Zoe’s heartstrings.
James’s jaw set. “How would you like to visit my horses, Genevieve?”
The ground shifted beneath Zoe’s feet. No, he couldn’t do this to her. But the change in Genie’s expression from downcast to radiant showed how successfully he had. “Can I? Really? When?”
He smiled. “Soon. I promise.” He offered the child his hand. “How about that ice cream now?”
So this was how Zoe’s world would end. Genie’s fingers looked so small curled in his powerful ones. The child herself looked breathtakingly tiny beside her tall, wide-shouldered father. Yet there was no denying the resemblance between them. Genie looked so right at his side that Zoe almost choked on the lump filling her throat. Even without the documents James had brought with him, she would have been forced to accept that Genie was his daughter.
She managed to smile as James seated her, then Genie, at the dining table, which the chef had set in their absence. At any other time she would have enjoyed being spoiled. Gleaming silverware and delicate china glowed in the mellow light of candles, and appetizing aromas wafted from serving dishes in the center of the table. It would be so easy to sink into fantasy and imagine them as one happy family. But nothing was further from the truth.
“I told Anton we’ll serve ourselves,” James said. Deftly he transferred fresh Sydney Rock oysters to her plate, the seafood garnished with roast shallot and basil vinaigrette. It was accompanied by a glistening Caesar salad, but her throat closed around the first mouthful she tried to swallow. She settled for pushing the food around on her plate.
Genie had no such problem. At James’s request Anton had produced a lavish strawberry parfait for her. “All for me?” the child said, wide-eyed, when it was set in front of her.
“All for you,” James agreed, smiling at her reaction. “I’ll make sure there’s ice cream on the menu every night when you come to White Stars.”
Zoe’s insides cramped in protest as Genie asked, “What’s White Stars?”
From long-ago school poetry lessons, Zoe recalled a Banjo Paterson poem about air as clear as crystal where white stars fairly blazed. It must be the name of his horse stud.
She was right. “It’s my home in the country, where my Arabian horses live. I want you to see it.”
“But not for a while,” Zoe countered. It was much too soon. Genie wasn’t ready. Zoe wasn’t ready, if the truth be told.
James’s face darkened. “Why not? Genevieve doesn’t start school for months. It’s the ideal time.”
“Can we, Mummy? James has real horses.”
Zoe wanted to kill him. How could she compete with a country property and real horses? “It’s your bedtime, Genie,” she announced, trying to mask her distress. “James and I will talk about a visit and see what can be arranged.”
“Yippee.” For Genie the decision was all but made. Zoe wanted to cry. James had said that Genie’s future wasn’t about who offered the most toys, but wasn’t this bribery of the worst kind?
Settling Genie down to sleep was almost impossible. By the time Zoe returned to the table, she was fuming. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, hands on hips, eyes blazing.
“Pleasing my daughter,” he said, her fury rolling off him.
She slumped into her chair again. “Bribing her, you mean. Trying to win her over with ponies and a property where she can only be in your way.”
His look was startlingly direct. “She won’t be in my way. I’ve rearranged my business affairs so I can be with her at White Stars for the next few weeks.”
Appalled, she stared at him. “Few weeks? You’ve got it all planned, haven’t you?”
He rested his forearms on the table, meeting her angry gaze levelly. “Hoping isn’t the same as planning. I hoped it would work out like this. Can you think of a better way for me to get to know my daughter?” She couldn’t and he knew it. He nodded as if she’d agreed. “Of course, I’ll understand if you choose not to come with us.”
A tight fist closed around her heart. “You mean you hope I won’t.”
“Believe it or not, I hope you will. You can see for yourself how keen Genevieve is to go. It will make things easier if you’re there, at least at the start.”
Her heart sank. He must know she couldn’t refuse to make the transition as easy as possible for Genie, no matter how much it cost her personally. “You win. We’ll go to White Stars,” she said tiredly. “But it’s only for a holiday. If Genie is the least bit unhappy—”
“I’ll bring her back to Sydney myself.”
It was as much as Zoe could hope for. “I suppose you’re happy now that you’ve got what you wanted.”
“If I’d gotten what I wanted, Genevieve and I would be on our way to White Stars right now.”
“Instead you’re stuck with me.”
After a long pause, he said, “Have you thought I might consider it a pleasure?”
Look up, meet his eyes or you never will, she commanded herself. Heat tore through her veins and it took all her resolve to say, “Pleasure is hardly the word I’d use.”
A flush seared her face as he began a feature-by-feature assessment. Warmth seemed to follow the path of his gaze, but she made herself meet his scrutiny without wavering. “Maybe not yet,” he said finally, the deep baritone of his voice washing over her like a caress.
“Not ever,” she said, recognizing the shakiness of the denial. She was fairly sure he heard it, too.
He pushed his chair back from
the table and came around to pull her chair out for her. As she stood up, she collided with the hard wall of his chest. Shock and something unfathomable rioted through her. Desire? It was impossible, surely?
In the instant she stood within the circle of his arms, she felt the embers of passion kindle into flames. In another minute he would kiss her. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. And she wouldn’t do a thing to stop him.
James was stunned by the avalanche of emotions pouring through him. His shoulders ached with the effort of keeping his arms at his sides. It would be so easy to wrap them around Zoe and pull her hard against him.
He hadn’t felt anything this powerful since his courting days in the Middle East, and a lot of that could be blamed on the isolation and political tensions of the time. What could he blame this on?
He swung around, but not before he glimpsed a look in Zoe’s eyes he could swear was disappointment. Had she wanted him to give in to his instincts and kiss her? Ruth had used sex to get her own way, assuring him that all women were the same. If it was true, then Zoe knew the effect she had on him and somehow hoped to use it to change his mind about taking Genevieve.
Her next words dispelled some of this notion. “I hope you don’t think you can charm me out of doing the right thing by Genie.”
He almost laughed. She was accusing him of using sex as a bargaining chip. “Then you admit I could charm you?” he couldn’t resist asking. Somehow the idea was more pleasing than it should have been.
She affected a none-too-convincing shrug. “You’re the last man on earth to interest me in that way.”
It came to him that she certainly interested him in that way, but instinct warned him against saying so. There would be time enough to explore such possibilities when they got to his property. “Then it’s just as well that White Stars has a full staff, so you won’t want for chaperones.”
He had trouble believing his own ears. Why was he trying so hard to reassure her about the visit? It would be simpler to convince her to remain behind. The break from Genevieve would have to come sooner or later.
Against all logic he wanted Zoe to come to White Stars, the only real home he’d known in his adult life. He wanted her to share his enthusiasm for the magnificent Arabian horses roaming the valleys, and for the secret rain forest retreats he’d found on his rambles.
He tried to tell himself it was for Genevieve’s sake. Once Zoe saw for herself what a paradise White Stars was for a child, she would be less resistant to his plans. They included moving his base of operations permanently to the property so he could provide a secure home for Genevieve. But he knew it was only part of the reason he wanted Zoe there. The other part was much more down to earth and far less laudable. He wanted Zoe, period.
Chapter Six
“How about a swim this morning?” Zoe asked Genie. It was hard to believe they’d been at White Stars for over a week and hadn’t tried out the magnificently landscaped pool. Back home in Sydney, Genie was a real water-baby, eager to practice her babyish swimming skills every chance she got.
So Zoe was surprised to see the child’s face fall. “Do I have to? Grace is giving me a riding lesson today.”
Grace McGovern was the capable woman James employed as stud manager. Her husband, Jock, also worked for James and the couple lived in one of the many buildings, which made up the homestead complex. “You’ve had a riding lesson practically every day since we got here. You mustn’t monopolize Grace’s time when she has a lot of work to do.”
Genie stuck out her chin. “I don’t mopolize her. James says I can ride anytime I want and Grace will look after me.”
Zoe’s spirits tumbled. James says. James says. It seems she heard little else lately. “All the same, I’m sure he doesn’t mean you to take up so much of Grace’s time.”
“Yes, he does.”
Her reaction to the deep baritone intrusion shocked her with its intensity. A tingle ran down her spine and her heart began to thump in sympathetic cadence. She had hoped a week under his roof would somehow lessen his effect on her, but instead it had increased until he only needed to walk into the same room to set her senses on automatic alert.
She took refuge in annoyance. “Can we discuss this privately?”
His vivid eyes bored into her as if he was well aware of her reaction. “Yes, but it won’t change the facts. I instructed Grace to give Genevieve’s needs priority.”
“Until when?”
“Until I tell her differently.”
He ushered Genie outside to where Grace waited with a pony on a lunge rein to begin the lesson. Watching them through a picture window, Zoe’s stomach clenched in protest. Slowly but surely Genie was slipping away from her, seduced by ponies, riding gear and beautiful possessions, far more than Zoe could have provided. How long before the child transferred all her affection to James?
Telling herself it was his due as Genie’s father didn’t make it any easier to endure. Zoe felt as if her heart was being ripped out, piece by little piece.
James on the other hand looked composed when he came back into the room. “You have a problem with Genevieve learning to ride?”
“I have a problem with your idea of child rearing,” she snapped back, her anger driven as much by her infuriating response to him as by his obvious spoiling of Genie. “You may win her over, but you’ll ruin a beautiful child.”
A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Riding lessons won’t ruin her. Grace has raised four children. She doesn’t let Genevieve get all her own way. Why don’t you relax and enjoy the break.”
Her control was perilously close to snapping. “Don’t patronize me. I didn’t come to White Stars for a holiday. I came to be with Genie.”
“Was it your only reason?”
The question was so unexpected that she was unable to prevent her face from betraying her. Try as she might to deny it, spending time with James at White Stars had appealed to her. She hadn’t forgotten the impact of her first sight of him on her doorstep, so magnificently male, so ruggedly attractive. Discovering his hidden agenda had devastated her, but it hadn’t diminished the forbidden-fruit aura he projected. Was she a masochist? First Andrew with his jealous possessiveness, now James whose aim was to remove her from Genie’s life as swiftly as possible.
She felt the color settle high on her cheeks. “It’s the only reason that matters.”
He moved closer and her breathing quickened automatically, but he remained behind her, a heartbeat away. “I know how rough this is for you, Zoe.”
She could handle almost anything but his pity. Her eyes swam and she blinked furiously. “I’m fine, really. It’s just—everything’s happening so fast.” One minute she was in Sydney with Genie, the next she was on extended leave from her job, Julie was keeping an eye on her house and she was living at White Stars trying to prepare herself for a future without her child.
He was so close now that if she leaned back a little, his arms would come around her, and she would be cradled against his broad chest. The memory of his mouth against her skin made a second taste even more imperative. She actually licked her lips in anticipation.
“It can’t happen too fast for me,” he stated.
Reason returned with a rush as his words slammed into her. He was determined to take Genie from her as expeditiously as possible, even if it meant making love to her to achieve it.
Nevertheless, stiffening her spine enough to step away from him took courage. Lifting her head high so he wouldn’t see the effort it cost her, she headed outside to the training paddock.
Watching her go, James felt physically drained, recognizing the start of a headache that would soon be pounding in his temples. He unclenched his fists and took deep breaths, trying to hold the pain at bay. Zoe didn’t know why he couldn’t afford to take this slowly or be as considerate of her feelings as he might have been. But he didn’t have the luxury of a choice. He needed to get Genevieve settled at White Stars as quickly as possible.
Bill Margolin had made it clear the operation couldn’t be postponed for much longer. James had intended to bring Genevieve here, then make whatever arrangements the doctor advised. But after seeing his child again, he’d gotten greedy. Now he wanted to spend as much time as he could with her before submitting to the knife that would either cure—or kill—him.
Then there was Zoe of the flashing eyes and tumbling palomino curls and a stubbornness to equal his own. He had never wanted a future as badly as he did since meeting her, to explore what they could be to each other. Hell, to explore her beautiful, sexy body for glorious nights on end. The need was so strong it was like fire in his blood.
Forget it, pal, it can’t happen, he told himself. To her he was the enemy and he would need time to change her mind, the one thing he didn’t have. Better to count his blessings in finding Genevieve and wish Zoe a great life with a man whose chances of survival were better than fifty-fifty.
Damn, but his head hurt.
At some level he knew the pain was caused by more than the bullet pressing against a nerve in his spine. It had a lot to do with imagining Zoe in the arms of another man.
Zoe’s mouth dried as she watched Grace guide Genie’s horse around the training paddock on the end of a long lunge rein. Despite James’s assurance that Genie’s mount, a gray Arabian pony called White Stars Amira, was quiet and well mannered, the horse looked alarmingly powerful in contrast to the tiny, inexperienced rider.
James assured her the Arabian horses were gentle and affectionate despite their spirited looks. Like her rider, Amira was a four-year-old with the elegant profile, flaring nostrils and small muzzle of her breed, her pedigree showing in her gracefully arched neck, long, sloping shoulders and broad chest.
Genie was unconcerned by pedigrees. To her a horse was a horse, to be loved, petted and hugged without reservation. The child had absolutely no fear even of James’s magnificent black stallion, Ferrere.
At the moment Genie was learning to balance, riding with her arms outstretched at her sides and her feet free of the stirrups. With her sweet face screwed up in intense concentration, she looked the picture of happiness.
