by Margaret Way
“Sure do,” Prentice responded in a contrite, strangled voice. “Just a bit of fun. If I’ve offended you, Ms. McIvor, I’m sorry.”
“Just a little bit louder,” Curt ordered.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Prentice put lung power into it.
Darcy didn’t answer. If Curt hadn’t turned up who knows what Prentice might have tried. He’d been brimming with intention. Ready to force her. The men might have gone after him afterwards, but it was easy to hide away in the bush.
“You should never, ever, have chosen Ms. McIvor as a victim,” Curt said.
Darcy couldn’t bear to stay. She switched on the ignition, pulling away in a cloud of dust.
She found Courtney and their mother sitting comfortably together in the old conservatory which had been turned into a marvellous Garden Room during the restoration. There were new furnishings and fabrics she and Courtney had helped choose, ceramic sculptures, striking animal figurines, and desert palms in huge pots. There was even a fountain quietly playing.
Courtney and their mother were extremely close Darcy had come to see, thinking she and Marian had gone way beyond the time when even a fraction of that closeness could be reestablished.
As she entered the room they both looked up with smiles that quickly faded after one glance at her face. “Everything okay?” Courtney asked anxiously. “You look upset.”
“Nothing much.” Darcy shrugged, ashamed of herself for wanting comfort. “One of the stockmen forgot his place.”
“My dear!” Marian looked perturbed.
“Not that Prentice?” Courtney asked perceptively, with a shudder. “He gives me the creeps. I think you should sack him.”
Darcy paced about, pale beneath her golden tan. “Tom has already done that. Seems he mistreated one of the horses.”
“I can see him doing that,” Courtney said. “What did he try on you, the scumbag?”
“Nothing. I told you.” Darcy shook her head.
“He obviously upset you,” Marian ventured, thinking Darcy wouldn’t bow like she had to any man’s will.
“Well he’s about to get more than he bargained for.” Darcy gave a brittle laugh. “Curt arrived at precisely the right moment for me, the wrong one for Prentice. I left them to it.”
“Oh goodness!” There was half triumph, half dismay in Courtney’s eyes. “I wouldn’t like to be in Prentice’s shoes.”
“I just hope Curt knows when to stop,” Darcy agonized. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so furious.”
“Surely you’re not concerned for that man’s safety?” Marian asked. “He was begging for trouble.”
“I’m concerned for Curt,” Darcy said. “He’s coming up to the house then we’re going back to the muster. He brought the chopper.”
“We heard it land,” Courtney said. “There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”
“Sometimes I think I’m pushing him too far,” Darcy murmured, checking her graceful stride to stare at her mother and sister.
“Here, sit down, Darcy,” Marian said, in a voice full of motherly concern. She rose to her feet and pointed to a chair. “I’ll go make coffee. You look like you could do with a cup. I’m sure Curt will like one too. Then you can be on your way.”
The men hadn’t a moment’s difficulty following Curt’s orders on the ground or his manoeuvres in the air. How strong was a man’s authority, Darcy thought, revelling in it in one way and vaguely galled by it in another. As a woman she had to fight hard for authority. She’d been certain she could deal with most things and she could, but just being a woman posed safety problems with fools like Prentice around.
“What did you do to him?” She had asked a stern faced Curt later.
“You mean before I kicked his butt? Don’t worry, Darcy. You won’t see him again.”
They kept going right through the day, until suddenly they were all exhausted.
“Boy am I gunna sleep tonight!” Sean, the jackeroo, stretched his long lanky frame. “Mr. Berenger is awesome. He got them out of every last hidey hole.”
“What’s left we don’t want,” Tom McLaren confirmed, happily. “You want to rest, Darcy,” he said, looking over at her as she lounged against a tree trunk. “You look near exhausted, but there’s no point in arguing with you. We could never have accomplished all we’ve done, without Curt.”
“Don’t I know it,” she sighed.
“This work is too tough, too physically draining for you,” Tom said, worried. “With your mother here I thought you’d have a chance to rest.”
“Don’t want to rest, Tom.”
“I worry about you, that’s all,” Tom mumbled. He looked up, his expression lightening as he glanced past Darcy. “There you are, Curt. We’ve got billy tea.”
“Don’t ask me to get it,” Darcy said, trembling with fatigue.
“You push yourself too hard,” Curt commented, accepting a steaming mug of tea from Tom.
“That’s what I’ve been tellin’ her,” Tom said. “She’s tryin’ to tread in her dad’s footsteps.”
“I feel fine,” Darcy muttered, crossly.
“Stand up,” Curt dared her.
“I will in a few minutes.”
He slumped down beside her, crossing his long legs in front of him. “Don’t ask me how I feel,” he complained.
“You’re Superman,” she said, not fighting the urge to lay her head on his shoulder.
“Even Superman needs a rest,” Curt offered, dryly. “Let me know when you’re ready to get to your feet.”
Afterwards Darcy never quite knew how it happened but she found herself walking out the door with Curt, an overnight bag in tow. Marian and Courtney stood on the verandah waving them off. Mother and daughter had had long serious talks during Marian’s stay. Both were perfectly well aware of the powerful bond between Darcy and Curt. It went far beyond the sexual attraction it was obvious each had for the other. It was only natural they needed time together. Kath Berenger could be depended upon to make herself scarce Marian thought. Darcy had had so much unhappiness forced on her she deserved all the love and comfort in the world.
When they arrived on Sunset Darcy walked into the grand entrance hall calling, “Kath, are you there?” It suddenly occurred to her Curt hadn’t contacted his mother to say he was bringing her back. Not that Kath didn’t always make her very welcome. She and Curt’s mother had always been in tune. Darcy started towards the grand staircase that wound into the upper gallery: “Kath, hello?”
Darcy strained hard to hear an answer.
Curt a few moments behind her, came through the door. “Where’s your mother?” she asked, throwing him a glance.
His green eyes provided the answer she needed. “In Sydney.” He kept his voice, matter-of-fact, even businesslike.
“You were a long time telling me,” she protested, turning full on to face him. “Where’s Stacey then?” Stacey was Sunset’s long time housekeeper, cum companion, cum family friend. Stacey usually came out to meet her.
“Stacey went with Mum.” Curt’s handsome head was tilted slightly. “You know how she fancies herself as Mum’s lady-in-waiting. They’re having a few days on the town. They’ll be meeting up with Aunty Pat.”
“So you got me over here under false pretences?”
“Just the two of us,” he said.
She stared at him. “You sound very serious.”
He closed the double front doors with their beautiful fanlights and sidelights and locked them. “If you don’t want to stay with me, you’d better start hollering now.”
“It all depends what you intend?” She had an overwhelming desire to tease him.
His eyes glinted. “Right at this moment I need to soak in a hot tub. My muscles ache. Then I intend to feed you. After that, who knows?”
Curt was luxuriating in his deep man-size bath when he became aware Darcy was standing in the doorway. She was wearing a silky robe, white as shimmering snow. The outline of her body showed through. As a
startling contrast her magnificent sable mane fanned out around her face, over her shoulders and onto the silk. She carried a small cut glass bottle of bath salts in her hands for all the world like a geisha making an offering.
“May I join you?” she whispered. Her beautiful eyes were enormous, the black pupils dilated.
Sexual excitement poured through Curt’s hard muscled body like a torrent. He was astounded she had come to him. Her being there so obviously naked beneath her robe filled him with an emotion he identified as exultation.
“Please.” He held out his hand, sucking his breath in as she let the robe fall to her feet.
Her body was beautiful. Perfect. Only he could see it. He ached for it. She was giving him a gift more precious than diamonds, rubies and emeralds piled as high as a mountain. She was giving him herself. Winning Darcy McIvor was the one thing in his life he had almost despaired of. Now he saw very clearly she needed him as much as he needed her.
“I love your being here,” he said, conscious there was a faint tremor in his voice.
“I love being here.”
He moved blindly raising his splendid body out of the water. “Come here to me.”
She gave him a smile so sweet it was ravishing. “I want to perfume the water. Do you mind?”
“It’s the one thing we need.” He took the cut glass container from her scattering the pink bath salts into the tub.
Immediately the perfume rose like an overflow of wildflowers. He lent her a supporting hand while Darcy put one long slender leg then the other into the scented water. They sank deep together at the same end, the fragrant, pink tinged water lapping around them.
Darcy lay back sighing deeply. Curt’s strong arms encompassed her. Her head rested back against his shoulder, her eyelids fluttering. Her long hair when wet, was like glistening ebony. Locks trailed over her breasts. His mouth moving over hers infused her with desire. She felt his warm lips slide down the long sweep of her neck, over the slope of her shoulder, his tongue gathering up the beads of water that lay along her skin.
Now his strong brown hands caressed her breasts, sleek from the water, the nipples clustered, a deep pink colour. He moved lingeringly over her wet flesh, his fingertips stroking the curves, the planes and secret dells of her body. The most tender spots. It raised a storm of emotion in her.
Curt felt her involuntary shivers. Her head was pressed back hard into his chest. Her lovely taut buttocks circled his groin, his sex rock hard and heavy with arousal. He wanted her so badly a deep groan was wrenched from him. He rotated her body so she was lying on top of him, thrusting into her because he couldn’t take any more sensation. He was frantic for release.
Darcy’s nails were scrapping along his back. She didn’t mean to hurt him. She couldn’t help it. She manoeuvred herself into the best possible position, settling on his lap, her agonized little cries urging him on. “Yes, yes, I love it!” She directed her trembling hands to his body, wanting to give him double the pleasure he was giving her, if that were possible. She let her mouth descend on his, as passionate as any kiss could be. Surely the water in the tub should be boiling?
Curt could feel her inner muscles begin to spasm. She was gasping, throwing back her head muttering something beyond his hearing, but the message was clear. Engulfed by sensation he gripped her beautiful body pulling her deeper and deeper into him.
Sublime.
He heard her cry his name, as high and tremulous as a bird.
Now!
In the predawn they quit the house exiting by the kitchen door and making their way to the stables where they saddled up and rode out into their brave new world. They had made love in a scented tub; by starlight entwined in Curt’s bed, hearts beating as one, then finally after hours of refreshing sleep when they awoke to dawn’s misty light and the great orchestra of birds that was starting to tune up.
At their favourite haunt buried deep in the virgin bush, Curt wrapped her in his arms. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, his vibrant voice husky with emotion.
She looked into his beloved face, thinking she was to be freed of the bonds of loneliness forever. “What is it?” she asked softly.
He leaned forward to kiss her soft, warm lips. “I want to announce our love to the world. I can’t wait for Christmas.” He dipped into his breast pocket, pulling out a dark blue velvet box. His eyes glittered with resolution. “This is your engagement ring, Darcy McIvor who’s led me a merry dance in more ways than one. The engagement ring I bought you too long ago. I want you to wear it. I want everyone to know I love you and you love me. You do love me, don’t you?”
Her eyes pooled with tears. This was the moment to risk everything. Tell him. Be completely honest. “I’ve loved you since I was a little girl,” she said. “But I’ve been hiding things from you, Curt.”
“I know,” he answered gravely, his arm encircling her to lend her strength. “But you’re going to tell me now?”
She nodded, hoping with all her heart the truth would set her free. “I must. The fact I haven’t told you has tormented me every day of the years since it happened.” She gave him an uncertain look. “I had a miscarriage, Curt. I lost our baby.”
Right in front of her he visibly paled. “Good God!” His voice was very quiet but it commanded all her attention. It sounded like she had shot him with a gun and he was in terrible pain.
They’d been half lying back on the sand, now he sat ramrod straight. “And you didn’t tell me?” He looked back at her incredulously, his shock apparent. “Do you realise how very far from normal that is? I had the right to be told.” He sounded implacable.
“I know. I know!” She reached out to grasp his arm. Found it unyielding.” But I had reason to believe you’d been unfaithful.”
“Unfaithful?” He pulled away from her sharply, his eyes flashing with anger.
“Dad had you followed.” Her face twisted with shame. “It was that last trip you took to Sydney. He hired a private investigator to follow you around.”
“So?” Curt queried bitterly, his green eyes glittering like glass. “There couldn’t have been a bloody thing the man had to report.”
“He took several photographs of you with a beautiful girl.” Darcy continued doggedly. “You were obviously involved. I’m not a complete fool. The camera didn’t lie.”
Curt looked like he had no idea what she was talking about. “Where are these photographs?” he demanded, his finely cut nostrils flaring. “What have you done with them?”
“I have them,” she said, quivering in reaction. “Many times I’ve tried to throw them away but I couldn’t. There’s not a shadow of doubt you had strong feelings for her.”
“Really?” His voice cracked with sarcasm. “It’s a pity someone didn’t tell me. But forget the bloody photographs,” he gritted. “They’re not important. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? That was momentous news. I had every right to know.”
“I didn’t know myself, Curt,” she said in a careful voice. “It was early days. There were no obvious signs. The photographs upset me terribly. I don’t have to tell you of all people how damaged I already was. I’d been in the saddle all day. I barely made it home. That’s when it happened.”
He continued to stare at her as if he had never seen her before in his life. “Did your father know?”
“Never!” She shook her head vehemently. “I got myself over to Koomera Crossing. Doctor McQueen looked after me.”
Curt let out a strangled breath. “I can’t take this in. You’ve lived with this for four years. I bet Sarah McQueen urged counselling?”
“No, Curt. She understood. There was nothing wrong with me other than a deep sense of betrayal and the grief at the loss of our child.”
“Darcy!” he moaned hopelessly, holding his head with his hands. “You’ve known me all your life. You knew how much I loved you yet you couldn’t turn to me at such a time. I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
“You have to!” she c
ried, feeling great tremors of fear. “I’d lost the baby by the time you got home.” She gave a harsh painful sob.
“You gave me no chance to comfort you.” Muscles worked along his jaw. “You didn’t tell me. It was my baby too.”
She was afraid to touch him in case he flinched away. “I couldn’t cope with your wanting another woman,” she admitted with much sorrow. “I would never have cheated on you.”
“Oh, Darcy!” His voice was a deep groan. “You’re talking so wildly. How could I be meeting up with some other girl when I’d just bought this ring? Look at it, damn it. It’s a jewel just like your eyes.” He opened the discarded velvet box and withdrew a ring. A glorious aquamarine of many carats, flanked on either side by shoulders of diamonds.
“Don’t Curt, please.” From flamelike happiness to sadness.
“You’re going to wear it,” he said fiercely, suddenly grabbing her hand and pushing the ring down over her finger. “What a little fool you are. I never betrayed you. I loved you. I still love you, God help me.”
“So who was the beautiful girl in the photographs?” she cried hoarsely, dashing her hand across her eyes. “You’ve no idea how Dad tormented me. Day in and day out. He said if I married you I’d have a lifetime of knowing you had other women on the side.”
“Stop now, Darcy,” Curt bid her very quietly. “What a devil Jock McIvor really was. I don’t know who this girl was. There was no girl.” His strongly marked eyebrows swooped together in a frown. “There was never anyone but you.” He stared at the glittering pool, the skin over his sculpted cheekbones taut. “Wait a minute.” Abruptly he leapt to his feet, towering over her as she languished on the sand. “There was only one girl it could possibly be. Tell me about her?” he said urgently. “Did she have long dark hair and a lovely smile. Very slender. Rather like you in build only several inches shorter?”
“Coltish,” Darcy said. “She had a look of springtime and joy. Such joy!”
“Good grief!” Curt’s vibrant voice suddenly lacked strength. “It had to be Genny. Genevieve Taylor. She’s Aunty Pat’s granddaughter. You never did get to meet her but surely you’ve heard about her? I remember now. Genny had just won a big scholarship to the Juilliard in New York. She was thrilled out of her mind. Genny’s a very gifted young violinist. New York is her home now. She’s already launched on a career. Genny, my God!” He stared down at Darcy as though he couldn’t endure a bigger mistake. “But Genny was just a kid then. Surely you saw that? All of sixteen. The only schoolgirl I ever went around with was you.”
