“Very clever.” Ella lifted her hair off her damp neck. The knot had loosened. One tendril clung to her skin. “Even I understood that instruction.”
Perspiration shaped her gown to her body. This woman who sweated over the land, chased sheep at night, and didn’t mind being seen not at her best was unutterably desirable. A trail of perspiration wandered from her throat to her cleavage. He breathed out slowly. “She’ll stay.”
He walked off, wishing he didn’t want Ella. Doubtless he’d been too long without a woman. Betsy had been perfect for a man who didn’t intend to settle down. She’d been readily available, she didn’t talk when he was tired or disgruntled, and she didn’t spend his money. She didn’t want anything from him other than his presence, or so he had thought. When she’d heard he intended to leave, she’d indicated that she had hoped he would be her ticket to a better life. She’d wanted to leave with him.
He’d doubted she’d loved him, despite her protestations, and he knew she would be a drain on his resources, mental and monetary. More logical was to make her a gift of the money he had after she said she could make a go on her own in the millinery business. He had no cause to disbelieve her. She’d neither been a drinker nor a dreamer.
A business of one’s own was the most worthy cause a person could have, in his opinion. Some found independence by sheer hard work. Some managed to be born into the right family. He, who had worked hard and who had been born the heir to a grand estate, had not been trusted to make business decisions. Therefore, he had left to pursue his own worthy cause.
He strolled back into the shearing shed. If he increased his shearing rate, perhaps he could leave the Beaufort Station sooner and forget the too appealing Miss Ella faster.
He sighed. He could do the first, but the second seemed not at all likely.
* * * *
Edward stared out of the carriage window, again impressed by the southern valley area. He’d rarely seen this land brown and dry. Although the entire colony had borne the six-year drought, the hilly pastures here seemed not to have suffered as badly as inland.
Along the main road, cows stood under trees, swishing their tails contentedly, and newly shorn sheep grazed. Kangaroos ran from the scrub and disappeared into the leafy camouflage.
The carriage heated. Sam snored beside him. The old fool should have stayed at Farvista, where he could sleep all day and not annoy people. Edward began to feel hot and tired and older than Moses. He leaned out of the carriage window, hoping for a fresh sea breeze. His previous journeys to the city had not seemed to take so long.
Ahead, a pack of border collies raced hither and thither across the road. The coachman slowed. Edward made a sound of disgust. The dogs should have been working, not gamboling their lives away. Sam stirred and opened his eyes, moving along the seat and glancing out the same window.
“Are we there?” he asked in a voice like a rasp. They’d planned to stop in Noarlunga for the night.
“Maybe another hour,” Edward said through his teeth. “We’re being held up by dogs on the road.”
One of the dogs streaked past the carriage after a rabbit. The rabbit wheeled, veered across the road, and dashed under a wire fence. The dog leaped over the fence in pursuit. “Girl,” Edward said to himself. “Sam, that’s Girl. Damn it, she knows the carriage but she didn’t stop.” He yelled to the dog but she wouldn’t hear him. “Sam,” he repeated, beating his fist on the outside of the carriage door to let the driver know he wanted to stop. “That was Girl.”
“Looked like her,” Sam said in a strange voice as the carriage lurched to a halt. “But them collies all have similar markings.”
“The dog went onto that property. We can ask in there.”
“We can ask what?”
Edward clamped his lips, staring out the carriage window, trying to sight the dog through the trees. In what looked like a small orchard, a blue-gowned worker and a fair-haired child were carrying buckets of water to the trees. The child dragged her bucket, bumping out liquid with every step. “We could ask for a glass of cool water.”
“We got more’n a gallon here, iffen you should want to wet your mouth. If you was wanting to know the whereabouts of a certain young man and you found him, what would you be wanting to say to him?”
“I would want to ask a certain young man what he was doing on that holding for three months while at home...”
“You know the answer. You told him he could leave if he weren’t satisfied. If the owner there is giving him the run of the place, that’s why he’d be there.”
Edward narrowed his eyes. “You know that was Girl, don’t you?”
“Coulda been. She ignored you the same as she always did.” Sam’s mouth softened. “Mr. Charlton’s the only person she heeds.”
Edward rapped on the carriage door. “Drive on,” he called in a strangely husky voice to the coachman.
* * * *
While Girl waited for him on the bank, Cal swam across the river and back again. He cooled off but didn’t manage to exhaust his desire for Ella. On the way back to the homestead, a faint trail of smoke from the Aborigines’ cooking fire tainted the dusky sky and the muttered yabbering of the natives carried through the trees. As he passed the woolshed, he noticed a crack of light through the door. Alert, he tied his shirt around his waist and walked up the ramp. At first he could only see the lit oil lamp. Then he spotted Ella. She stared at the piled wool bales.
“Counting your profits already?” He leaned against the doorframe.
“Oh.” Startled, she put her hand on her heart and turned. “I wanted to see how much we had, but I don’t suppose it does any good. It simply makes me feel better to know that this amount of wool has already been clipped.”
He moved inside the shed. The lamplight gave her a shapely silhouette. The outline of her hair looked gold and her face was shaded in mystery. His blood raced through his body. He slowly moved toward her, seeing nothing but the glow in her eyes and the gentle curve of her cheek. His heart pounded. His good intentions died. He wanted her in his arms and he wanted her mouth on his. He wanted her under him.
He reached out and grabbed her into his embrace.
“Oh, dear life,” she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck. She stretched her body to fit with his.
For a moment he held her pressed against him, experiencing the softness of her womanly curves and the fact that she had no misgivings. The warmth of her response made him ache with desire. She didn’t tease, she didn’t bat her eyelashes, and she didn’t try to strike a deal before letting him touch her.
He dropped his mouth across hers, needing a tender moment. A few minutes of sensitivity on his part would no doubt satisfy him as much as giving in to his baser needs.
However, his need arose and hardened instantly. He opened her lips with his, tasted inside her mouth, and tried to remember his last thought. He lost all coherence. Backing her up against the wool bales, he used his body as persuasion. Never in his life had he taken advantage of an innocent. Well aware of his strength and size, he usually let the woman of the moment set the pace.
With his lust foremost, he wondered if he would let her go if she fought him. She didn’t fight. She clutched his buttocks as if she couldn’t have him against her firmly enough or long enough. Groaning, he lifted her onto the nearest wool bale. She reacted with surprise and expectance. Girl watched him with her tail slowly wagging. Pointing to the door, he waited for her to walk outside, then he swung up beside Ella, irrevocably drawn by her soft smile. His caution dead and his pulse erratic, he gathered her against him.
She settled her palms on his chest, nestling her face into his neck. She sighed. His hands stroked her down her spine to her delightfully rounded behind, which he cupped, easing her into his pelvis. He wanted this woman with a hunger that astounded him. His body responded to his urge, heating. He rubbed his cheek across her hair, hesitant but determined.
She leaned back an
d examined his face, reaching up a hand to cup his cheek. Pleasure and confidence glowed in her eyes. His breath shortened. He’d known from their first kiss he could have her. From the start she responded to some unknown quality of his. A link between him and anyone was rare, but without words he had rapport with her. This woman was a rare prize. He wished he had the right to her.
His lips met hers. She tasted as sweet as she looked. He rolled slightly, taking her with him. The jute bed was coarse and the stench of lanolin was pervasive, but lust conquered all. His legs separated hers and he tugged her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt. Her flesh slid hot and smooth beneath his hand, exactly as he had imagined. Her mouth moved on his, parting. Her tongue teased against his lips. The tickle caused a fire in his belly. He wanted her and badly.
Rolling again, he settled on top, shifting his hand to her breast. His thumb rubbed over her hard, puckered nipple. She made a long, low sound. He lifted his mouth from hers, kissing her chin and her throat. She arched back. Urgent, he slipped his hand from her breast and began unbuttoning her blouse. A fine muslin chemise separated her flesh from his eyes. He pulled a blue ribbon at the neck and tugged at the gathering. The material loosened, she wriggled, and he exposed her fine, pale breasts.
With a husky growl, he pressed his mouth to the soft bulk, holding one in each hand. His lips slid to the side, trailing to her pale pink nipple. He moved his tongue across and around. She clutched at his hair, digging her fingers into his scalp, offering murmurs of encouragement. Knowing exactly what he wanted, he covered her nipple with his mouth, dragged and teased, gaining pleasure from giving pleasure.
He couldn’t mistake her invitation. She enjoyed what he did and showed him with her hands, cupping his head, stroking his neck and ears, digging her fingers into his shoulders. Her knees lifted and her feet rested on his calves. Perhaps she hadn’t done this before but she had the best of female instincts. She had the best of female attributes, humor, intelligence, and ability—everything he wanted in a woman.
He liked her and he desired her. What could be more perfect in a male/female relationship? Involvement, perhaps, but he’d never seen the point of emotional involvement. Nor had he ever let himself lust to this extent. He again lifted his mouth to hers, rubbing the skin of his chest against the wondrous lushness of hers.
Her palms flattened on his back. When he glanced at her face, he saw that her eyes had taken on a sleepy, seductive appearance. Her lips were fuller, redder. With an almost languid grace she gave him kiss for kiss, appearing to indicate that wherever he led, she would follow.
However, she’d given him a lead he couldn’t help but follow. She kept him snugly within the clasp of her thighs—not that he had any intention of chastely lying by her side. He meant to be between her legs but he wanted to be thrusting inside her. He moved his hand to the hem of the skirt stretched tight over her lifted knees. He pushed the fabric, sliding his hand down her thigh to her bare behind.
His insides clenched. Although few women wore underdrawers, he imagined she would. Using his palm, he absorbed the delight of her naked flesh, her satin skin, lightly muscled. Lifting a little, he bunched her skirt over her hips. She now lay beneath him bare to the waist and completely exposed at the chest, exactly as he’d imagined her too many times. He only needed to undo four trouser buttons and he could sate his desire.
He glanced at her face. She had closed her eyes.
“Look at me,” he said in a low voice.
Her eyes slid open. “It’s real, isn’t it? What we’re doing?”
“We’re not doing anything yet.”
“I suppose we should stop before...?”
He challenged her with his gaze. “Before?”
“Before I find out why people get married.”
“Finding pleasure has little to do with marriage.”
“In your world, perhaps. In my world, women who beget children without the benefit of clergy are forever shunned.”
“I’ll beget no child on you.”
She closed her eyes again. “You’re asking my permission to go farther.”
He clenched his jaw. He’d never meant to ask permission, but in his heart of hearts he’d known he couldn’t take what he wanted from this young lady. Whether or not they conceived a child, he would leave her unchaste, taking with him her best bargaining tool for marriage. Desperate he might be, but not mindless. “I’m not asking your permission. I’m telling you that I won’t be doing anything that would cause a pregnancy. I will go as far as I can but not there.”
She focused on his face. “Such feelings I have for you,” she said in a shaky voice. “I want... Well, I don’t yet know what I want, but you’re making me want it far more.” She gave a helpless laugh. “I want to know your body. I think about it and I ache. I crave and I don’t know what I crave, though I know where I crave.”
He pressed his lips across hers. “My body is yours. Touch me. Anywhere. But start here where I crave.”
He turned aside and took her hand from his back, sliding it to the juncture between his legs. The anticipation made him grow tighter, harder than he’d been before. He hoped he wouldn’t make an idiot of himself, but if he couldn’t have fulfillment inside her, he would take any other substitute.
She chose to rest her hand where he indicated. After a moment’s hesitation, her fingers explored, finding his length, his width. He let out a breath, afraid to move, hoping she wouldn’t stop. Her touch didn’t ease him but at the moment he could only choose stimulation, anything other than being told she’d rejected him in favor of her purity.
He stopped her when he knew he couldn’t take any more without wanting to undo his trousers.
She stared into his eyes. Her lashes lowered.
He rested his forehead on her shoulder. “I think about your body, too. But the difference is that I know what you want.” He couldn’t suppress a wry smile.
She turned her head aside and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m beginning to know what I want, too.”
His throat tightened. Her face was lovely in the glow from the lamp, and her hair had spread beneath her head. She combined the mystery of the female with the known quality of sex. He shifted his hand from beneath her buttocks and smoothed his palm across her triangle of hair. She gasped. For a moment he cupped her there, feeling her heat. Then, with a pounding heart, he slid his fingers into her moisture. Her head snapped back, her eyes widened and she breathed through her mouth. Her face looked pale and her eyes dark. She moistened her lips. Her legs parted farther.
Using light, teasing strokes, he encouraged her to respond to his touch. Apparently she enjoyed what he did and just as apparently, he didn’t bring her to fulfillment. He could tell she was fully aroused but she didn’t seem to know how to let go. She reached out with her hands and ran her thumbs over his nipples. And suddenly arched and called out his name.
He stilled his hand. He breathed harder than she. Her completion pleased him. He gathered her into his arms while her breathing steadied, while the pounding of her heart calmed. And found that he didn’t want to let her go. “I would like to lie with you throughout the night,” he said in a whisper.
“That can’t be.” She pulled back from him.
“No.”
“You did know what I wanted.”
“You see that as a fault?”
“I see it as a sign that you are experienced with women.”
He sat up. “I’m not a philanderer, if that’s what you ask.”
“I am glad to hear that.” She tugged at her skirts, covering her legs.
“Nor am I a marrying man,” he said carefully.
She hid her expression by buttoning her blouse. “I don’t want marriage. I need advice for this place far more.”
He noted that her fingers had stilled. “You let me pleasure you because you want me to help you?”
For a moment she remained silent, then she fixed her gaze on his, smiling
lightly. “A favor for a favor. Isn’t that how you think? As I was saying, you might know if I should plant feed or if I should leave an extra pasture for the sheep.” She smoothed her hair and swung off the wool bale. “Sleep well,” she said casually as she picked up her oil lamp. She left him in the dark.
He gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t sleep until he’d eased himself, and if she knew anything about men, she would know that she’d left him fully aroused. Making his way to the door, he rubbed the heel of his palm on his forehead.
She didn’t know anything about men other than the one thing he’d taught her. A favor for a favor.
Chapter 7
Edward slept better that night than he had for the past three months despite his hotel room in Noarlunga being no bigger than the one in Robe. He ate his breakfast with more pleasure. The appreciable difference in his mood came about because at last he knew the whereabouts of Charlton. Sam smirked and said, “I told yer so,” at least twenty times.
Before Edward’s carriage left for his final destination, Adelaide, he took a stroll past the local police station, the butcher, the baker, a supplies’ shop, and a grocery to reach his destination, the bank. He merely had to mention his name to be ushered into the manager’s office, a pokey little room with a window scarcely the breadth of a man’s shoulders.
“Mr. Canavan,” he began, taking the chair offered. “If you can accommodate me, I’m interested in an investment.” He stretched his legs as he stared around the room, noting the shelves cluttered with loose pages and notebooks. He hoped the man’s bookkeeping was better than his sense of order.
“Land?” Mr. Canavan, a slim young man with an overlarge forehead, asked. “Or a business? I can help you with either.”
“I saw a parcel of land on the way into town last night, a place the other side of the Onkaparinga River. An orchard by the look of it. A holding called Beaufort.”
Ella Page 8
