It was a crazy chocolate cake. It had been one crazy birthday.
It had been wonderful.
‘They’re getting to you,’ he told himself savagely. ‘Watch out. If you’re not careful you’ll be caught up in the whole damned web again.’
He took a deep breath, steadying, then walked through the darkened house to the veranda.
Jenna was already in bed. There were two humps in the big bed, Jenna’s body curved protectively around the child beside her.
Was she asleep? He wasn’t sure. Her sheet moved almost imperceptibly in the moonlight with her deep, even breathing.
He wanted her. The ache was a fierce physical pain that threatened to overwhelm him. He could just walk forward to say goodnight, lean over, lift the sheet and kiss…
He did no such thing.
Instead he swore savagely under his breath, then walked back into his newly cleaned sitting room and threw himself onto the old settee. There was no way he could sleep on the veranda. Not feeling how he was feeling.
He’d do the house maintenance tomorrow and then he’d get the hell out of here. Back to his bores. Outback, where the only thing to concentrate on was sheer hard work.
Where a man could forget about women.
She heard him go.
She knew what he was doing. He didn’t want to sleep on the veranda.
She knew how he was feeling.
She turned on her side and stared out into the starlit sky and tried to think why life had suddenly become more bleak.
Why life had suddenly become desperate.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘JENNA, Mr Jackson’s hammering.’
Jenna surfaced with reluctance. It had been hours before she’d slept the night before, finally falling into uneasy slumber some time before dawn, but Karli was bouncing beside her, big with news.
‘He’s working and working and we should be up and helping him.’
Jenna groaned. Karli was immediately concerned.
‘Are you sick?’
‘No. I’m tired.’
‘How can you be tired? We’ve slept for hours.’
‘Hours.’ She rolled over to check her watch and she landed on a rock. ‘Ouch!’
‘My fossil. Don’t bend my starfish.’
‘Your starfish bent me.’
There was no sympathy from Karli. ‘We should get up and help Mr Jackson.’
‘You help Mr Jackson.’
‘I will,’ Karli announced. ‘You look after my starfish.’
It wasn’t yet seven o’clock. By rights Jenna should disappear back into sleep. But the hammering continued. She heard it pause as Karli obviously approached. There was an intense conversation, a few giggles and then the hammering resumed. Only now there were two hammers.
Hammering before seven o’clock was surely against union rules. Where was a union when she needed one?
But sleeping with a rocky starfish was losing its attraction. If she only had two more days with Riley Jackson…well, she was darned if she was wasting them by sleeping with a rock.
They were outside. All she had to do was follow the sound of the childish questions, the low, gruff answers and the rhythmic hammering. He had her intrigued. He was so good to Karli. She slowed as she approached, listening in.
‘Will we fly in your aeroplane?’
‘Yes.’
‘To your other house?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is your other house as horrible as this one?’
Jenna winced, but Riley chuckled.
‘It’s different.’
‘Does it have as much dust?’
‘We have much nicer dust at Munyering. And Maggie is a dust fixer, just like Jenna is a dust fixer. They’re very similar women.’
‘Is Maggie nice?’
‘She’s very nice.’
‘Jenna’s nice, too. Do you think Jenna’s nice?’
Did she imagine it or was there a moment’s hesitation. And then a certain amount of wariness. ‘She’s very nice.’
‘She’s not always dusty.’
‘I can see that.’ The laughter was back in Riley’s voice.
Enough. Eavesdroppers heard no good of themselves and she was playing with fire. She ducked under a makeshift clothesline where six shirts and assorted socks and jocks were flapping in the wind. They were already dry. Laundry day on the farm?
They didn’t see her approach and for a moment Jenna stood among the laundry and watched them. Riley had ceased hammering. He was sawing ancient weatherboards to size. Karli was sitting in the dust in her nightgown, banging a board onto the house with a nail as big as her hand and a hammer that was huge. She was concentrating absolutely and the nail was going in true.
And Riley was stripped to the waist, his broad chest was glistening with sweat as he sawed, and he looked…he looked…
Like the sort of guy you should run a mile from, she thought. An outback hero in a romance novel of the bodice-ripper variety. Toe-curlingly gorgeous.
Her toes were definitely curling.
He looked up from his work, he saw her and he grinned.
‘Well, well. Sleeping Beauty rises. Karli and I decided you may well snooze for another hundred years.’
‘There’s something not very companionable about a rock,’ she told him. ‘Which is all Karli left me to sleep with. And might I remind you that it’s not yet seven o’clock. Aren’t there rules about industrial noise in residential areas before seven?’
‘Is it almost seven?’ he demanded. ‘Heck. Almost lunch time.’
‘What time did you wake?’
‘Five.’
‘So you’ve done your laundry.’
‘Well noticed.’
‘Won’t Maggie do it for you?’
‘Yep, but I’m fresh out of clean shirts and I need to keep myself nice for Miss Karli here.’
‘They’re hardly whiter than white,’ she said, eying them with caution. ‘Don’t they dry hard in this water?’
‘We outback men are tough,’ he told her and grinned-and the bodice-ripper image intensified. So did the toe-curling.
Drat the man.
Riley handed a weatherboard to Karli, then squatted down and helped her fit it. Together they nailed. He was treating the child as if she were really a help, Jenna thought, and, damn, here came that stupid lump in her throat that was never far away when this man was close. Why?
She knew why.
With the weatherboard fitted, Riley rose and surveyed his handiwork. ‘Enough,’ he told Karli. ‘It’s time for lunch.’
‘We haven’t had breakfast yet.’
‘How about brunch as an alternative?’ He grinned. ‘Seeing I’ve declared this as a day of domesticity I’ve even managed time to cook. I lay in my cot last night and thought: these two visitors from the old country have obviously categorised me as a rotten housekeeper so the best thing I can do is to show them I’m not a total wuss.’
Which was so far from what Jenna was thinking of him that she blinked.
‘You mean you’ve actually managed to heat your baked beans?’ she managed, and his smile widened.
‘Nope. At great personal sacrifice I’m forgoing baked beans this morning. It’s pancakes. I’ve already made the batter. Let’s go.’ He took Karli’s hand and they started walking toward the back door. Jenna was left with no choice but to follow them, which she did, feeling like a small, obedient pup. A stunned pup.
‘What do you mean, pancakes?’ she asked his retreating back.
‘Don’t they have pancakes in England? Surely it’s not all black pudding and spotted dick?’
‘Well, yes. But…’
‘Trust me, lady.’ Riley ushered Karli through the back door, and then stood aside for Jenna to precede him. She walked past and her skin brushed his. She was wearing a halter top and shorts. Not enough of her skin was covered. Not enough of his skin was covered.
Did he have any idea of the effect he had on her? Trust him? He had to be joking
.
Luckily Riley didn’t notice her discomposure-or if he did he ignored it. Jenna had time to find her composure, sit herself down at the table with Karli and school her features into something akin to polite interest.
Polite interest, she told herself desperately. That was all she was allowed to feel.
Impossible ask.
‘I like pancakes,’ Karli announced. ‘Can you really cook them?’
‘You’d better believe it.’
They had no choice but to believe. While they watched in wonder, Riley poured batter into a hot pan, swirled, flipped and then flicked the finished product onto waiting plates.
‘You’ve done this hundreds of times,’ Jenna accused, and if her voice wasn’t quite normal it was close enough. She hoped.
‘Just as well for you guys,’ Riley admitted. ‘I make them with powdered milk, so they’re one of the few foods that cooks up well out here. Mind, I had to scrape my first attempts off the ceiling.’ He grinned. ‘I got a bit ambitious with my flipping to start with. Okay. Hop in. There’s a tin of jam in the crate behind you.’
‘A tin?’
‘You were expecting home-cooked preserves?’ Another pancake flipped onto the pile and he sat down, cooking finished. ‘The only thing to preserve here would be saltbush, and I don’t fancy saltbush jam.’
‘Ugh.’
‘My sentiments exactly.’
‘How can you make pancakes without egg?’ Jenna was glaring as though suspecting him of some conjuring act.
‘Powdered egg,’ he told her briefly. He gave her a smug smile. ‘It works better for pancakes than for chocolate cake-but you have to be a very experienced cook to know that. Now stop asking questions and eat.’
Jenna glared again, but Riley was ignoring her and concentrating on the important things in life. Pancakes. So was Karli. There was nothing for Jenna to do but concentrate as well.
The pancakes didn’t just look delicious. They were delicious. Or maybe it was just the sensation of sitting at the table with this enigmatic man of whom Jenna knew nothing.
She did know nothing, she reminded herself desperately. It was silly to feel as she was feeling.
But as he teased Karli, as they discussed how much jam one pancake could hold, as they giggled like two five-year-olds and Karli blossomed into the laughing, happy little girl Jenna knew she could be, all she knew was that she was falling deeper in love by the minute.
That was what could be described as delicious, she acknowledged. Delicious, exhilarating-and altogether too stupid for words!
‘Who taught you to cook pancakes?’ Jenna asked as she surfaced for air three pancakes later. Karli had disappeared back to her hammer and nails-her newfound love of carpentry was far too important to be delayed by something as dull as food.
Jenna had been intent on scraping up a last morsel of jam as she asked. There was no immediate answer. She looked up and found Riley’s face was suddenly grim. ‘I said no more questions.’
‘Until I ate my pancakes. If I eat one more I’ll pop. So tell me. Your mum?’
‘Not likely.’
The words were said harshly, and Jenna looked curiously across the table at Riley.
‘That sounds like your childhood might have shades of mine,’ she told him. ‘Did it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean.’ She hesitated-but then, what had she to lose? Riley’s good opinion? In a few days she’d be nothing but a memory to this man, she thought. She might as well be a pesky memory.
‘The nurses I work with… The patients I care for…’ she continued, watching his face. ‘I can usually tell who’s come from a happy background. I used to be incredibly jealous of kids whose parents loved them, so much so that it got to be a bit of a masochistic habit-choosing the people with a happy family.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m willing to bet your parents weren’t into happy families.’
‘That’s none of your business.’
Jenna shrugged and started clearing. ‘It’s just…you seem to know so much about us and I know next to nothing about you.’
‘Maybe that’s the way I like it.’
This was like hammering bricks with a feather. Useless. Still, Jenna wasn’t a girl who gave up. Not when she really wanted to know. She’d gained a reputation in nursing circles for helping even the most recalcitrant patients confide their troubles-and trouble was behind this man, Jenna knew for sure. Trouble with a capital T.
Maybe laughter would work. ‘Is it dark, brooding and mysterious you’re being, Mr Jackson?’ she teased. She faced him full on, and with an effort she even made her eyes twinkle. ‘Do you yearn to play Heathcliff?’
‘To your Cathy?’ There was no answering smile. Riley was still and watchful-as though he couldn’t make Jenna out, and he didn’t trust her one inch. What on earth was the man expecting her to do? she thought ruefully. Bite him?
Jump him?
Ha.
‘You have to be kidding,’ Jenna managed. ‘Heathcliff’s Cathy? I have better things to do with my life than pine for lost love and die in childbirth.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ All of a sudden Riley’s voice was strained to the point of breaking. ‘But I’d prefer a bit less of the curiosity, if you don’t mind.’
‘You think I’m nosy?’
‘You and Maggie.’
‘I like Maggie,’ she told him. ‘I don’t even know who she is and I’ll bet you’re not going to tell me.’
‘There’s no need to tell you. Why are women so damned curious?’
‘We’re taught it in girl school,’ she flashed. ‘Where we’re taught that girls like ironing and men like taking out the garbage, but men are otherwise useless. However, at great personal sacrifice, I’ll concede that in certain situations men do have their uses. Therefore if I wash, you can wipe. Only I’d prefer you to keep your distance as you do, Mr Jackson. Let’s keep our compartments separate.’
‘Suits me.’
His voice was light but Jenna flashed him a doubtful glance-and realised he was serious.
Jenna’s accusation of categorisation had been made flippantly, but she was astute enough to realise that, for Riley, those categories held truth. Something in Riley’s face said he was stretched tight with the strain of having her close. More. She looked at his face and knew that he didn’t want her here. Badly.
She swallowed.
‘Riley, would you prefer if Karli and I stayed out of your way today?’
She was right. She knew by the way his eyes flashed to hers that she was right.
But it was stupid and he knew it. He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Who’s going to tell Karli that she can’t hammer?’
‘It’s me you don’t want close, then?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You didn’t have to.’
Their eyes locked. He knew what she was saying. They both knew what was the underlying problem here. But there was no future in their attraction, and Karli was here and the whole thing was impossible.
‘Okay.’ He appeared to regroup and Jenna eyed him with suspicion. Suddenly there was laughter lurking behind his dark eyes. The man was like a chameleon, changing moods on the instant.
‘If I keep you here, how about you do the bedrooms while I do the outside work?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘If I seal them on the outside, will you clean them on the inside?’
If he could pretend this thing between them wasn’t happening, so could she. ‘More dust! And I’m almost clean!’
‘Didn’t you pack overalls?’ he demanded, and sighed as Jenna shook her head. ‘Honestly. What tourists pack for this place is hopeless.’
‘This place didn’t come with a tourist brochure,’ Jenna said with dignity. ‘I was hoping for something more like a five-star hotel with swimming pool.’
‘There’s a dam three miles north of here where you can swim.’
‘Yeah, right. With sun lounges and fluffy towels an
d someone serving pina coladas?’
‘I could supply a beer.’
Jenna suddenly focussed. He was serious. ‘You mean you really can swim there?’
A swim. Water all over her without having to pump like crazy. It sounded…irresistible. ‘Are you serious? If we work all day, is there somewhere we can swim tonight?’
‘If you don’t mind sharing a waterhole with a few cattle,’ Riley told her, startled. ‘And the odd kangaroo and any other form of wildlife who depend on it. It’s not what you might call appealing.’
‘If I can swim, then it’s definitely appealing.’ She eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Let’s make a deal. Karli and I will work for you all day-I’ll even get my shorts dirty in the cause-as long as you take us for a swim tonight.’
‘I…’
‘It’s a great deal,’ she said hurriedly, aware that Riley’s instinct was to refuse. And she knew why he should refuse. For exactly the same reason she shouldn’t ask in the first place.
But there was something within-something growing by the moment-a nagging urgency, saying: Manipulate every second you can to be with this man. This man is important to you. You hardly know why, but your body is giving you all sorts of messages you’d be a fool to ignore.
To go calmly back to England without finding out what those messages could mean-without finding out what could happen-was unthinkable.
So she stood and watched his face and waited and didn’t let him off the hook.
‘It’s not exactly your tiled backyard swimming pool,’ he said uneasily. ‘We’re talking mud.’
‘With swimmable water in the middle of mud?’
‘Yeah, but…’
‘I like mud.’
‘You won’t.’
‘Do you want me to work or not?’ Jenna glared. ‘I really want a swim, Mr Jackson, and I’m willing to work to get one. I’ll forgo luxury towels and the pina colada. But the rest… All you have to do is say yes.’
Their eyes locked-and the message between them was a challenge on Jenna’s part, and something she couldn’t fathom on Riley’s. And finally, inevitably, Riley relented.
Rescued By A Millionaire Page 11
