The Australian's Desire (Mills & Boon By Request)

by Marion Lennox, Lilian Darcy, Lilian Darcy

  ‘They should make those damned things windproof,’ Alistair said. ‘Can you take us home?’

  ‘That’s what we’re here for,’ Harry said, and proceeded to do just that.

  And twenty minutes later they were in the air. Alistair, Georgie and their brood were safely tucked in the rear of the helicopter, but they could see down to the cyclone-ravaged land.

  The damage had been appalling. It was still appalling. By the time they landed Georgie was so overwhelmed she could hardly speak.

  Whole forests had been flattened like matchsticks. Plantations destroyed. Buildings were simply no longer there. The swollen river was crammed with debris.

  ‘How many dead?’ she asked as they landed and Harry and Mike helped them out.

  ‘Ten that we know of,’ Harry said soberly. ‘That’s including the bus-crash victims. But there’s lots of places we haven’t checked yet.’

  ‘Oh, Harry …’

  ‘At least you guys are safe,’ he said, and turned to take Rowdy as Alistair lifted him from the plane. ‘We were all going nuts.’

  And, giving truth to his statement, here came Gina. She’d been on the veranda of the doctors’ house—one of the few buildings not obviously damaged. She’d shielded her eyes from the sun as the chopper had landed, seemingly hoping against hope that it was …

  And it was. She squealed her delight and came tearing across the intervening ground as if she was running for her life. Yelling.

  ‘They’re back. Our Georgie’s back. And our Max and our Alistair. And there’s new guys. They’re back. They’re safe back home.’

  And before Alistair found himself enveloped in a bear hug that practically knocked him off his feet, he had the forethought to steady himself by hanging onto Georgie.

  Our Georgie. Our Max. Our Alistair. And there’s new guys.

  It felt like a family, Alistair thought, and he pulled back to check that Rowdy wasn’t too overwhelmed.

  A family.

  It felt really good.

  He just had to get Georgie to agree.

  A family.

  The fuss was almost over.

  Well, hardly. There was still the huge clean-up that had hardly started as yet, but for tonight Georgie could lie in her own bed and think about what had happened to her. Max was right by her side, and Rowdy was on the other side of her. Scruffy was in a basket under her bed.

  Her world had expanded. They still didn’t have a clue as to who Rowdy was, but that could wait.

  If no one claimed him, maybe she would, she thought dreamily. Mum to two kids and a dog?

  It sounded great.

  And Alistair?

  He’d let her be. They’d separated to have glorious hot showers—the water supply here was fantastic. Alistair had been needed in the hospital—Megan and the patient he’d operated on from the bus crash both needed his care. He’d been accepted as one of the Croc Creek doctors. Everyone was treating him as one of them.

  Except her.

  He loved her.

  She just had to trust.

  It was such a big thing. Huge. She couldn’t even explain it to herself.

  She loved him. Or she thought she loved him. If he left right now she’d break her heart.

  So throw your heart in the ring. Take the plunge.

  ‘It’s Max, too,’ she whispered, hugging her little brother close. ‘To entrust Max …’

  She could.

  Head and heart were warring. How could she trust?

  Max muttered a little and moved away a bit. It was muggy, close, and her cuddling was making him sticky.

  She was cuddling him for her, not for him.

  She let him move away a little and felt a stab of loss.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, go to sleep. Go to sleep!

  She couldn’t. She stared up into the dark for a long time.

  There were sounds on the veranda. Footsteps. Someone else wasn’t sleeping. One of the other doctors?

  Alistair? His bedroom was right next door. Maybe …

  Maybe she’d be dumb to find out.

  But the thought was irresistible. Carefully she slid out of bed, inching out so quietly that even Scruffy in his basket under the bed didn’t stir.

  She lifted the latch and walked out into the moonlight, turning and carefully latching the door after her. If Alistair was here … she’d want to be able to talk. She’d want to be able to …

  She turned, smiling already at the thought.

  ‘You,’ a voice said, and she froze.

  Smiley.

  He was right in front of her. Maybe he’d been checking the rooms, maybe searching for her. Before she could react he’d moved with lightning speed, grabbing her, hauling her around and shoving his hand tightly across her mouth.

  ‘Bitch,’ he said, and her head swam.

  She could fight. She’d been trained to fight. But he’d moved too fast, shoving her down hard on the ancient settee, seizing her arms and dragging them up behind her.

  ‘You make one sound and I’ll kill you, and then I’ll go in and kill that kid,’ he said. ‘I swear. Yeah, I’ll go to jail but I’m going to jail anyway. Maybe ten years, they’re saying. Well, what’s a few more years added to ten? If I’m going to spend time inside then every minute I’m in there I’m going to think how much I hurt you.’ He’d twisted something around her wrists—some sort of length of rubber. He twisted so hard she cried out involuntarily, and he grabbed her hair and hauled at it.

  ‘I told you. One more sound and I kill you now. I could break your neck just like that. Maybe I will. Or I have a knife. Hmm, what will I use? But that’s not for here, and if you scream now the kid gets it as well as you.’ And he tugged her to her feet.

  She was helpless. He had her by the hair with one hand, the other he was using to tighten the bands at her wrists and push her toward the stairs.

  ‘Georgie …’

  Oh, God, it was Max. Max … No!

  ‘Georgie …’ His tiny body launched at Smiley as if he were a missile. ‘Georgie …’

  Smiley released her hair and struck Max, hard. The crash of his fist made a dull, sick sound and Max crumpled on the steps.

  ‘You bastard …’

  Alistair launched himself out of the darkness with such ferocity she didn’t at first know it was him. Smiley’s fist had crunched into Max with force but it was nothing to the force Alistair used. One moment Georgie was being held by the wrists, the next Smiley was hit so hard that he was propelled right over the balustrade into the garden below.

  Alistair was over, too, launching himself at Smiley with unbelievable force.

  ‘He has a knife,’ she screamed, and there was another sickening crunch.

  ‘Not any more he doesn’t,’ Alistair breathed, and then grunted as Smiley obviously made contact with him.

  ‘Help.’ Georgie’s lungs were right there. Her only weapon. Unable to be used when Max had been attacked, she used them to full effect now. ‘Help.’ But she was huddled over Max. ‘Max …’ Dear God, he was so still …

  Lights were going on inside. ‘Help,’ she screamed again, for good measure, and the veranda lights flooded on. She could see …

  Max was conscious. He was stunned. A trickle of blood oozed from just beside his ear but he was looking up at her, wondering …

  She wanted to hold him close but couldn’t because her hands were still tied. Then she remembered—Alistair … She hauled herself up.

  He had Smiley. Somehow Alistair had him tight, hauling him to his feet, swearing …

  ‘You …’

  Smiley’s foot smashed down onto Alistair’s, crunching so hard Georgie could feel his pain.

  People were spilling out onto the veranda. Gina. Luke. Rowdy. Oh, Rowdy …

  She turned back to Alistair. She felt his fury. Thump him, she thought, screaming in her head. Thump him back.

  But he didn’t. He gripped Smiley’s arms so tightly that Smiley couldn’t move, and he propelled him forward into the
solid base of the veranda.

  ‘Come and take him before I kill him,’ he said to his friends. He wrenched Smiley forcibly against the balustrade. ‘If I do what I really want, I’m done for. There’s no way I’m letting this scumball say I used undue force.’

  He stood motionless, holding Smiley in a grip of iron until Cal got himself together, and Luke, and suddenly Harry was there, too—where had he come from? All she knew was that Smiley was immobilised.

  She turned back to Max, and Alistair was by her side, releasing her hands then holding her tight, looking down at Max with eyes that were as fearful as her own.

  ‘Max …’ His voice shook.

  ‘I’m OK,’ Max said, and his voice wobbled. ‘He just punched me.’

  ‘W-we’re used to it,’ Georgie said, turning to hold Max.

  ‘Well, get unused to it,’ Alistair growled, and his voice wobbled a bit more. But then it firmed, and strengthened, ‘No more. That’s it. You guys have been punched for the last time. I swear to you … Georgie, I want to marry you but even if you won’t, I swear I’ll stick around and make sure that no one touches you again. I swear. The violence ends. Right here. Right now.’

  The violence ends. Right here. Right now.

  She looked up at him with eyes that were bright with unshed tears. What had he said? I want to marry you …

  It was enough. The trust started right then and there.

  How to fall in love with someone because they hadn’t hit out?

  Alistair had hit with a force she couldn’t believe. He’d used violence to protect his own. But then it was finished.

  Smiley had hit him. And she’d felt that crunch on Alistair’s bare foot. He was wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. How could he ever have thought he’d win against Smiley?

  But he had won—not only with force but also with lack of force.

  Her Alistair.

  Soon she’d check out his foot. Soon she’d attend to the bruise already swelling on Max’s face.

  But for now …

  ‘You’ll stick around?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes.’

  She swallowed and hugged Max some more. ‘Max, what do you think of me and you and Alistair being a family?’

  And then she thought … family. Max. Maybe Alistair hadn’t factored that into the equation.

  But it seemed he had. He was gathering her into his arms, and because she was holding Max he was gathering him in, too. And then Rowdy, white-faced and obviously terrified, was limping down the steps, and Scruffy was clunking down on his splint, too. They were all gathered in as well.

  ‘Welcome all comers,’ Alistair said, in a voice Georgie failed to recognise. ‘I once thought I wanted control. I even once thought isolation was the way to go. I must have been mad. Georgie Turner, biker, obstetrician, dancer, sister of Max, friend to Rowdy and Scruffy, will you and your wonderful entourage do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?’

  And what was a girl to say to that?

  She gazed up at their audience. Every medic in the doctors’ house, plus anyone taking refuge there, and there were quite a few, Harry, Luke, Cal, Gina—this whole crazy community was waiting for her answer with seemingly just as much interest as Alistair.

  Even Smiley, snarling between his captors, was being made to wait and listen, for there was no way Harry was taking him away before he’d heard her answer.

  So she’d better get on with it.

  ‘Yes, my love,’ she said, with all the force she could muster, so her voice rang out over the dying wind, carrying around this old doctors’ house which had seen so much and had been the hub of so much pain and pleasure.

  ‘Yes, my love,’ she said again, and she smiled up at Alistair with all the love in her heart. ‘Yes, I’ll marry you. But only if you kiss me. Right here. Right now.’

  And who knew what the audience did then?

  Georgie Turner didn’t care.

  Long-Lost Son: Brand-New Family

  Lilian Darcy

  LILIAN DARCY has written nearly eighty books for Mills & Boon. Happily married with four active children and a very patient cat, she enjoys keeping busy and could probably fill several more lifetimes with the things she likes to do—including cooking, gardening, quilting, drawing and travelling. She currently lives in Australia, but travels to the United States as often as possible to visit family. Lilian loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at PO Box 532, Jamison PO, Macquarie ACT 2614, Australia, or e-mail her at lilian@liliandarcy.com.

  PROLOGUE

  FELIXX had fallen asleep now, thank goodness. He looked uncomfortable, with his cheek pressed against the sill below the darkened, rain-splashed window of the bus. Janey’s heart hurt when she looked at him. He was only five years old, and he hadn’t spoken a word to her. Not in the two hours they’d been on the bus, or over the past three days since she’d arrived at Mundarri. He hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, and no one could tell her why.

  Was she doing the right thing?

  As soon as news had reached her about Alice’s death, she’d taken indefinite leave from her group general practice in Darwin. Had managed to reach Mundarri via a roundabout route of hops by air in frighteningly small planes, and finally a lift from one of Mundarri’s other residents, a woman named Maharia.

  Everyone at Mundarri seemed to have chosen odd names for themselves. Janey gathered this was part of the philosophy of the place—that you gave yourself a fresh start with a new and more spiritual name. Alice had become Alanya, although Janey could never think of her by that name. Little Felixx had originally been named Francis James, which his dad had soon shortened to Frankie Jay, she remembered.

  Anyway … The Mundarri people had all seemed nice enough. Caring. Very gentle and warm with Felixx, as Janey was learning to call him.

  And yet they let my sister die.

  Yes, OK, so she was a doctor, trained within what the Mundarri people regarded as the uncompromising scientific straitjacket of Western medicine, but the fact was Alice’s liver had packed up and a ‘cleansing diet’ of carrot juice was just never going to cut it in the healing department.

  Alice had needed urgent hospital treatment, and probably a transplant down the track, and the people at Mundarri, out of arrogance or naivety or goodness knows what, hadn’t called an ambulance for her until it had been far too late.

  Thinking about it, Janey found she was crying. Anger and grief and doubt all mixed up together.

  Had she done the right thing?

  Felixx could have stayed at Mundarri. It would have taken some lengthy wrangling with the authorities, but one of the women—Maharia, or who was that other one Felixx had seemed close to? Raina?—could have been named his legal guardian and he would have continued to live in a place that was at least familiar.

  A place whose irresponsible, ill-informed healing philosophies had killed his mother.

  No, she had done the right thing, taking him away.

  But she didn’t know what she was going to do next, because it turned out Felixx had a father living just a few hours from here, and Janey had had no idea. It had been a huge shock to discover Luke Bresciano’s contact details among Alice’s things, and to discover that Crocodile Creek was, by Australian standards, so close.

  Beyond the confines of the bus, night had fallen completely now. The sodden blanket of cloud overhead let no moonlight through, and the rain was relentless, noisy and thick and buffeted by wind. There was a cyclone hovering out to sea, apparently, and people were saying it was getting closer and stronger, and might hit the coast. In these conditions, you could easily believe it.

  The bus rounded a bend and Felixx slid toward Janey, still fast asleep. She pillowed his head on her shoulder and wondered yet again why he wouldn’t speak.

  It wasn’t a defiant silence, she thought. It came from … fear?

  Or grief. He’d just lost his mother.

  Oh, lord, could she herself possibly give him what he needed? At thirty-four, she�
��d never had a child. She loved him, but she didn’t know him, because she and Alice had lived so far from each other since he was born, and Alice had made so little effort to keep in touch. ‘I can’t deal with cities any more,’ she’d said. ‘I need the wilderness.’

  Luke Bresciano was Felixx’s father. Janey needed to at least consider the possibility that he might want his son, despite everything Alice had said to the contrary. And she had to consider that Luke might be the best person to have him.

  Was she doing the right thing?

  Felixx felt warm against her side, and it was getting rather steamy in the damp bus. They rounded another bend and the bus skidded suddenly, bringing forth a chorus of alarmed gasps and cries.

  ‘Sorry, folks,’ the driver called. ‘It’s evil out there.’

  How much longer till they reached the coast? They were late, surely. Should have been there by now. Janey had counted on arriving in time to organise motel accommodation for tonight—this whole trip hadn’t even been on her agenda this time yesterday. She couldn’t just show up on Luke Bresciano’s doorstep without warning.

  Stay asleep, little man, so at least you’re fresh when we get there …

  She put her arm around his little shoulder, thinking that he seemed so small for his age, loved but possibly not as well nourished as he should have been. They were strict vegans at Mundarri, there wasn’t a lot of money on hand for fancy nutritional supplements, and it took a great deal of commitment to provide adequate nutrition for a child’s growing body on that kind of diet.

  His clothing, too … There was a hole in his sneaker that someone—Alice?—had tried to disguise with a cheerful picture of an orange clownfish. And there were mosquito bites, fresh ones and old ones, all over his skin. Alice’s rainforest paradise had had its downside.

  Where was the best place for this little boy? Should Janey have taken him back to Darwin with her and contacted Luke later on? But she didn’t want Felixx’s future hanging in limbo for months on end.

  Her heart hurt again. What was the best thing for this precious waif of a child?

  And then, right in the middle of the wash of churning emotion, the bus gave a tremendous, unexpected lurch. There was no more room for thought. A wild lashing of rain and wind slammed into the vehicle’s side and it began to lean and slide. Outside, there came a violent, unearthly roaring sound. The bus driver yelled and swore. Couldn’t he get the steering back under control? Come on … Come on …