‘For your information, old Wes Ogilvie made them for me, ready for tomorrow’s big competition. I went to grab us some more grog from the esky and ran into him on my way back. He’s pretty tanked and pissing poetry for conversation but he’d been looking for me to give me these.’ Patty proudly held up the whip. ‘Beautiful, aren’t they? Genuine Wesley Ogilvie 12 plait kangaroo hide whips. They cost me over five hundred bucks, but they’ll be worth it. I’m lining up for my sixth title, you know.’
Bella whistled. ‘Wes Ogilvie made you a pair of whips? Crikey, that’s impressive. I’ve got no flaming hope now. What is it with you and these old blokes? You just wind them round your little finger. I didn’t think he was making them anymore, not since Catherine got sick. Didn’t think he had the time, or maybe his heart wasn’t in it.’ Bella lifted the whip from her own shoulder, took in the skilful weaving of the rawhide and then reverently returned it to its proud new owner.
‘He’s got a grandson. A city slicker who’s helping him out a bit, he said, so old Wes’s making a few whips again.’
Bella shuddered. ‘Oh no, not another city boy.’
‘Nah, this one’s all right. Seems like a nice bloke. He’s a dentist or something toffy like that. I met him just before with Wes. Got a heck of a plum in his mouth but he turns out well in a pair of Wranglers.’ Patty waggled her eyebrows. ‘Come on, mate. Let’s put these whips with our esky and go find a party.’
Sometime later Patty disappeared again. Probably gone for a wee, thought Bella as she swigged on a bottle of water and idly listened to the new band on stage. Over the music she heard the distinctive, low-pitched rumble of the twin stacks mounted on her cousin’s ute. Bella honed in on the sound of the approaching vehicle. Her heart accelerated, pumping at double-pace. All senses went on high alert, nerve ends tingling in the deepest regions of her body.
She could sense it was him.
Hoped it was him.
It had to be him.
The stacks grumbled to a halt, somewhere near the cattle yards over to her left, so she swung around trying to pinpoint the LandCruiser’s final place of rest. As her eyes raked across the undulating grassy paddock, she eventually spotted the bug deflector emblazoned with ‘Tearin’ Down the Mountain’ reflected by the lights set up on the back of the makeshift stage.
Macca exited the driver’s side of the ute, pulling his huge black, high-topped Akubra down onto his tousled head as he went. But she was more interested in seeing if there was a passenger. Craning her neck, she saw there was.
He revealed himself more slowly, a large cream Akubra already sitting snugly on his head. He was smaller in height than Macca but as broad across the shoulders. Bella knew she would recognise this man in her sleep.
Her dreams were full of him. Her whole being soaked in his scent.
Flashes of another night in faraway outback Queensland flitted before her eyes and red-hot heat slowly started to consume her body. She saw his far-seeing gaze sweep across the paddock, and she knew with certainty when his eyes alighted on her and stayed fixed. Even standing some hundred metres apart, she knew that he knew too. They would end up together in one swag tonight.
A dance as old as time, started in earnest six weeks before, was mid-step – and the outcome was as certain as tomorrow’s dawn.
They would be together, as one, finally tonight.
Her mind knew it as well as her body; a body already yearning for his embrace, his touch, his sweet kiss. She moved towards him intent to savour it all, eager to start that final waltz, to consummate what had started but not ended at a Queensland rodeo in the far, dusty north.
She didn’t see the sprawled, dozing body of Patty . . . and tripped arse over tit into a cast-iron bath full of water and empty beer cans.
Chapter 17
‘The wet T-shirt competition is scheduled for tomorrow, cowgirl.’
Bella could hear Will’s muffled voice through the gallons of water pouring off her head. The water was warm from the day’s heat, but the breeze wafting around her was cold, making her nipples snap to attention. Or was it the voice causing that? She should be resigned now to the fact she was just supposed to spend the night wet.
‘Jeez, Bella, did you have to wake me up?’ Sitting beside the tub, Patty was soaked, hit by the wave of water erupting from the bath as Bella fell in.
‘You could’ve found a better place to pass out, you stupid nong,’ Bella said as she clambered out of the tub.
‘Hey, wait on a minute,’ said Will. ‘I was just thinking of joining you in there, Hells Bells. Looked mighty comfortable, not to mention wet and wild.’
Patty whistled as she got to her feet. ‘Go, bro.’
Macca walked up beside Will. ‘What’s the joke?’ His eyes alighted on a dripping Bella. ‘Ah, Miss Vermaelon, bit late for a bath, isn’t it? Or are you getting in before the morning rush?’
Bella inhaled, counted to three, then spun on her heels and stormed off towards the beer tent.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Macca asked no-one in particular.
‘Where are you going?’ Will and Patty yelled together.
‘To get a bloody rum, beer, cruiser . . . anything to get away from you lot . . . and to find a flaming shirt that’s dry!’
‘Hang on, cowgirl, I’ll come and give you a hand.’ Will took off after her.
‘I guess that’s the last we’ll see of them tonight.’ Patty turned to Macca.
‘How’s that? She looks ready to kill someone, not get laid.’
Patty leaned into the big man beside her, put her tanned and freckled arm inside his own and gave him a pitying smile. ‘You boys really don’t get it, do you?’
Will stood beside Bella, surveying the scene before them. ‘My swag’s that way. I threw it out of Macca’s ute on our way over; it’s there under those gum trees.’
Bella didn’t reply. She was cold and probably still drunk. Judging by the pick-up of the wind and the increased lightning on the hills, the cool change was about to hit. She just wanted her bed. Flickering small lights covered the valley floor guiding the way to the hundreds of tents, utes, horse floats and trucks parked in camps around the plain. The problem was that every light looked the same, and Bella couldn’t find Patty’s fire-engine-red ute, which contained her swag, her doona and a nice warm, dry, fluffy flannelette shirt. She knew because she’d looked everywhere, Will following along behind.
Was this some sort of sign? Her sense of direction was usually impeccable; her sense of humour was usually impossible to smother – but now she was disorientated, pissed and disgruntled. The attempted rape by that wanker had unsettled her more than she had let on to Patty. And now there was this man at her side. She threw him a sideways glare. Uncharitable, she knew.
She’d been so looking forward to seeing him again; the man in her dreams these past few weeks to finally materialise into hunky, male flesh. But now it had happened, a multitude of feelings she hadn’t anticipated flooded her mind.
This was a man who was her best mate’s brother; a man who’d known her since she was in nappies.
This wasn’t going to be a one-night stand followed by a sunrise bolt into the bush. The feelings this man drew from inside her were intense. Complex even. Did she want this so early in her life? Did she want to dive head-first into a relationship that could lead to marriage, kids and slippers by the fire?
But . . .
She couldn’t hold back the feelings swamping her. She couldn’t deny her heart, which was full to the brim with Will’s scent, his touch and a more-than-was-decent amount of lust. It felt so right.
And she couldn’t find that bloody ute, no matter how hard she tried.
Looking up into the dark eyes staring down at her, she heard thunder rumble out to the west. She felt the squall of wind arrive with the change. Her spirit slammed its virtual cards of chance on the table; the house full of hearts won the game. Her hand placed itself in Will’s warm and comforting clasp, pure instinct dictating her
moves. As a bolt of lightning cracked hard above their heads, she looked down at their hands snug together in an intimate hold and wondered just how her body knew.
Will was burning. He was so hot for this woman it was a wonder he didn’t internally combust. The touch of her hand in his, finally. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He didn’t give Bella a chance to change her mind. Gathering her to him, he took off towards the trees where he’d left his swag. It was going to rain like hell in a minute, and he wanted to get them both under some sort of shelter, before he ravished her.
Half-carrying her across the rough ground to the gum trees, he snagged the bed roll and then kept walking.
‘Where are we going, Will?’ Bella stumbled, trying to keep up.
‘Over towards the old homestead. There’s a humpy we can shelter in out the back. It’s going to piss down with rain in a minute.’
Bella tried to suppress a shudder at Will’s mention of the site where she was nearly raped. He’d said a humpy out the back, not the homestead, she reassured herself.
They came up on the humpy from behind, so Bella was near the doorway before she knew she’d even arrived. Lightning strikes cracked in the hills all around, and the thunder had gone from a low rumble to an all-out crash. Will swung her into his arms and she forgot about Eddie Murray and the storm raging all around. She only had room for one tempest in her heart.
Will slammed his woman hard against his body, enclosing her in strong arms and shutting out all else but him. Her body moulded into his like it was cast only to fit his shape. Hip to hip, breast to breast, mouth to mouth. As the summer storm sent its load of much-needed rain down onto the Nunkeri Plains, Will felt full to the brim with all-consuming passion and love.
He slipped his hands under her oilskin vest, rummaging under her wet singlet until he clasped the giving, warm flesh of the woman who’d been in his heart and mind since Gundolin. His hands moved slowly up the sides of her body, slippery smooth in the rain, relishing the feel of her shivers as she responded to his touch.
He couldn’t contain himself.
Ripping at the press-studs of her vest, he wrenched it from her body in one tug. She raised her arms so he could drag her wet singlet over her head, and with a snap her red bra followed, swirling on the wind. And then he stepped back and drank in the sight he had dreamed of. Isabella Vermaelon unwrapped. For him. Only for him. He wanted to claim this woman as his own. Forever.
Reaching for those creamy, succulent breasts, he touched his mouth to her firm nipples, sending his tongue on a voyage. As his groin throbbed and strained against the restriction of his jeans, it took all his self-control to taste rather than claim, to seek rather than find. Then she moved, whimpering, spreading her legs, allowing him to press his erection hard against the core of her being.
Bella couldn’t contain her shivers. She wasn’t cold. Oh no. She was in meltdown for this man. As Will had stood back looking at her like she was a Christmas present from God, it made her feel like the most gorgeous woman in the world, sexy, empowered, alive and adored.
As his hands had moved forward and his head followed, her breasts had sprung to meet his touch. The warmth of his breath soft against her skin, the slither of his velvet tongue, followed by the gentle lapping and suckling of her nipples caused her knees to weaken as a torrent of pleasure flooded her body and mind.
Now she knew what had been missing from the two sexual encounters of the past, why she’d walked away from those one-night stands with an empty heart. Will was different. Her body melted into submission, following the hard planes of the man who held her in his arms.
She wanted him. Inside her. Now.
Will’s hands moved further south. Tantalising, teasing, drawing it out. She closed her eyes and drank in his touch. Ripping at her own fly, she sent her hands into battle with his. Will firmly pushed her fingers away and then slowly, bit by bit, eased the zipper, gently pulling her Wranglers down over her hips, nuzzling her belly and then further down. He tugged the suffocating jeans from her body until she was free. He stepped back, leaving her bereft. Eyes snapping open, Bella cried out.
Will was tugging at his own shirt, pulling it over his head.
He was beautiful. She moved forward instinctively, nuzzling his chest, sending feather-light kisses down, and down, glorying in her own nakedness as she went. Loving the pleasure her womanhood was giving him, seducing with her lips, the tickle of her breasts and hair, the need to devour driving her desire.
She tugged at his leather belt and pulled it free. Snagging his jeans down over his hips, she smiled at what was revealed. Nuzzled at what had lain hidden.
Too quickly Will pulled her to her feet. With great tenderness, his hands brought her face up to meet his. His whisper floated between them, on the wind, on the rain, sweet against her lips. ‘I won’t be able to hold on, if you do that, cowgirl.’
Bella smiled into his deep gaze and was then swept away, the tides of passion urging them both on. Sweeping rain poured down from overhead. Reckless and wild, they pushed each other to the brink, until Will leaned back against the lean-to wall and picked her up, cupping her bottom in his workroughened hands, drawing her in and over him. Bella wiggled and snuggled until she felt him move hard and deep inside her. She clamped her muscles around him, and started to ride him up and down. Her breasts moved fluidly across their rain-slicked bodies as she thrust herself onto him, driving him insane. He lost any control he had left. Slamming his body up into hers, he met her stroke for stroke until they both tipped over the edge. Together they exploded.
Thunder cracked and lightning zapped around the old lean hut. Bella and Will were oblivious to anything but each other.
And it wasn’t until much, much later that they dried each other off with a sheet dragged from Will’s swag and lay under the corrugated-tin humpy curled into a warm woollen blanket and listened to the rain. Sated. Complete. In each other’s arms.
Chapter 18
A dim glow pierced the holes in the tin roof above her head, scattering pinpoints of light on the old, weathered swag. Bella snuggled into the blanket, backing herself further into Will’s chest. He mumbled something in his sleep and tightened his arms around her.
Outside the sheltering humpy, there was a slight early-morning breeze; just enough to move the silvery leaves of the eucalypt tree crowding the sky outside the doorway. The moon still shone, an incandescent light peering through thick branches of a huge red gum, giving the old tree a haloed glow.
Just like the glow Bella knew was blossoming within her, filling her whole being with its warmth. Ignoring the dull ache of a hangover, she rolled over to face the man spooning her. The strong planes of his face, the chiselled jaw and its harsh lines were softened in sleep. The eyes were closed, the dimples gone from his tanned cheeks.
With her fingertip she softly traced the creases from the laughter lines rimming his temples. Feeling his breath gently warm her hand, she ran her fingers along the side of his face and was rewarded when an arm snaked its way across her bum cheeks, pulling her closer into his warm chest.
‘Not planning on a dawn dash, cowgirl?’ His soft voice startled an early-morning currawong from its perch outside the doorway.
Bella laughed. ‘Not bloody likely.’ She snuggled into the furry down of hair smattered across Will’s chest. ‘Anyway, isn’t that usually a bloke’s prerogative?’
‘Not this bloke. And definitely not this morning.’ Will’s arm reached for the canvas above their heads and the top flap of the swag descended, hiding them from view. The peals of laughter soon coming from inside sent the currawong flying once again.
It was ten o’clock on Sunday morning before a weary but happy Bella and Will finally made their way back into the main entertainment arena at Nunkeri Plains.
‘Feel like an egg-and-bacon sandwich?’ asked Will as they walked across the grass towards a tent, which was serving breakfast.
Bella smiled up at the man loping along beside her, his warm han
d firmly holding onto hers. ‘Sounds great. Nothing like a bit of bacon fat to soothe a booze-soaked tummy and a pounding head. Not to mention the fair bit of physical activity in between.’ Bella felt rather than heard Will’s laughter rumble through his body. He grasped her hand a little tighter, as a female voice broke into their conversation from behind.
‘Will O’Hara. There you are.’ Prudence Vincent-Prowse sidled up to him and cuddled into his free side. Her left hand snaked out and sinuously moved across his blue chambray shirt, her long red-painted fingertips applying light pressure on Will’s muscled chest. ‘I missed seeing you last night.’
‘Hi there, Prue, nice to see you too. Macca and I didn’t get here until late. Would you like an egg-and-bacon sandwich? I was just heading over to grab one for Bella and me.’
For the first time Prowsy looked at Bella.
And Bella watched as the other girl registered the fact that Will was holding onto her hand. Prowsy’s eyes hardened as she took in her adversary and the tender look Will was throwing Bella’s way.
Prowsy stepped in front of Will, her body moving fluidly and in such a way as to effectively shut Bella out of the conversation.
‘I’d just love a sandwich, thanks, Will. It’s so sweet of you to offer.’ Prowsy’s voice was oozing honey, while a hand fleetingly touched at Will’s chest and her eyes devoured the man.
‘Righto. I’ll be back shortly.’ Will squeezed Bella’s hand, smiled at Prowsy and strode off. Bella watched him go, admiring his bum, his back, his whole body – crap, she had it bad.
Prowsy didn’t waste any time swinging into attack. ‘So, you didn’t have any success up there in Queensland pulling a root, so you’re back here spreading yourself around as per usual? I saw you and Patricia riding each other last night. Tell me, can’t you find a man willing to get it up? Or perhaps you have to pay them? I heard you raving on about a bet.’
Bella's Run Page 12
