by Valerie Parv
The shadowed line along his jaw tightened and a frown etched a valley across his deep forehead. ‘So now I’m gutless as well. This promises to be a fascinating afternoon.’
It promised to be more like slow torture. For her sister-in-law’s sake she would have to survive it somehow. If only she hadn’t chosen Wildhaven as her bolt-hole. It was too close to the devil’s lair. She had known that Bryan McKinley owned huge tracts of land in the north-west, but had foolishly assumed that the area was large enough for both of them. Now she knew better.
She tensed as Nick joined them. ‘If you two have finished your private discussion, I’ll show you around the place, Bryan.’
He nodded. ‘Ready when you are.’
‘By the time we’ve done the rounds, the girls will have lunch on the table.’
Bryan’s look seared Jill. ‘I don’t want to put the girls to any trouble.’
Jill’s look was designed to melt steel. ‘It’s no trouble at all. You boys enjoy yourselves.’
Her anger slid off him. ‘I’m already enjoying this far more than I thought I would.’
The nerve of the man! Jill was shaking with anger by the time Nick and Bryan McKinley walked away. So he was enjoying this, was he? She felt as if she were being turned slowly on a spit over hot coals. And all because of one stupid slip in print for which he was as much to blame as she was.
‘You look as if you’d like to murder someone,’ Denise commented, studying Jill’s face in concern.
For her sister-in-law’s sake, Jill schooled her features into an impassive mask. ‘Don’t you mind being called a girl? I’m twenty-nine years old, for goodness’ sake!’ Bryan was only a couple of years older, she recalled from her research.
Denise flipped her sunhat off and massaged her chin where the elastic had chafed. ‘You get used to it out here. We women are always “the girls” to our menfolk. This is Big Man Country, remember?’
Jill smiled fondly at her sister-in-law. ‘No wonder my brother loves outback life. He can be king in his castle. It’s positively feudal. You can’t tell me a woman couldn’t run a cattle station.’
‘They can and do,’ Denise said mildly, linking arms to draw Jill towards the homestead. ‘Who do you think held everything together while the men were driving cattle along the stock routes to the railheads in the old days?’
‘All the same, I don’t see why we have to pander to their fragile egos while we’re doing it.’
‘Did you have any particular ego in mind?’ Denise asked innocently.
Jill gave her an equally bland look. ‘Why do you ask?’ She couldn’t resist a backward glance to where Nick was showing Bryan a dingo pup which was recovering from a road accident which had killed its mother. What was Bryan telling Nick? She would never forgive him if he dragged her family into their private quarrel.
She was still worrying as they prepared salad vegetables for lunch. Having given up on her barbecue cook, Denise had thrown the steaks on to a vast indoor hotplate where they sizzled and sparked, sending out mouth-watering aromas.
Where was Nick? How long did it take to do the rounds of a few animals pens? If Bryan said anything to upset either Nick or Denise, Jill would… Tomato seeds spattered the room as her cleaver slammed down on the chopping board.
Beside her, Denise jumped. ‘Jill!’
Shaken by the vehemence of her thoughts, Jill put the cleaver down and began to mop up the mess. ‘Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.’
‘Are you sure you aren’t in love?’
Oh, heavens, Denise was already reading too much into Bryan’s unexpected arrival. ‘It isn’t what you’re thinking,’ she cautioned. ‘Bryan came to see me about a business matter, so don’t get your hopes
up.’
‘Pity. He’d make a wonderful brother-in-law, and I’d love a playmate for Nick junior.’ She patted her rounded stomach lovingly.
If Denise knew the real situation between her and Bryan, she would be horrified, Jill thought. The very idea of being involved with him, sharing his bed and bearing his children was…was…she didn’t even want to think about it.
But it was the curse of an active imagination that it conjured up images almost against her will. This time they were so vivid that a wave of heat swept through her. She was actually picturing herself in bed with Bryan, when it was the last place she should want to be.
‘How can you be sure it isn’t Nicola junior?’ she asked in a determined effort to change the subject.
‘Because it’s over-active, unreasonably demanding and delights in making my life difficult,’ Denise replied.
Which described Bryan to a T. ‘You’re right; it’s definitely male,’ Jill concurred.
‘What have we done this time?’ Nick demanded, joining them in the kitchen.
Without turning around, Jill was aware of Bryan close behind him. Even before he spoke, something about him triggered a sensory red alert throughout her system.
‘You know the old saying,’ he drawled, ‘“They can’t do with us, and they can’t do without us”.’
Want to bet? Jill thought mutinously. There was one man she definitely could do without, but he showed no signs of leaving. She had a feeling his words were as much for her as for Nick.
‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ she said with exaggerated sweetness. Her sharp turn made the dressing from the coleslaw she carried flick across Bryan’s knitted shirt which stretched across his broad chest, delineating muscles she hadn’t known a man possessed.
He looked down at the white tracery marring his shirt, and danger signals flashed in the dark eyes. Later, his look seemed to say. Immediately she regretted her reckless impulse. Playing with fire felt like an apt description.
But he only reached a finger to one of the droplets, gathered some dressing, and transferred it to his mouth, being deliberately provocative, she was sure. ‘Tasty,’ he murmured. ‘Dessert should be most interesting.’
‘There isn’t any,’ she hissed under her breath, furious with herself for letting him have such a disturbing effect on her.
‘Then I’ll have to take what’s going, won’t I?’
Her traitorous imagination supplied another vivid image of herself on a silver platter, an apple clenched in her jaws. She knew exactly what—or, rather, whom—he had in mind for dessert. ‘Forget it. There’s lemon meringue pie,’ she amended hastily.
‘Pity.’
Yes, wasn’t it? In a fury, she followed the others on to the screened veranda which overlooked a spring-fed bore where water-birds waded in the shallows. The plates of steaks and salads were ferried out, and Jill was the last to take her seat, horrified to find that Denise had seated her beside Bryan. If she hadn’t been pregnant…
‘How did you two happen to meet?’ the object of Jill’s furious thoughts asked sweetly.
Jill’s heart began to hammer against her ribs as she waited for Bryan’s answer. He could hardly tell the truth. If he said anything to upset Denise, she would kill him.
‘Actually, we hadn’t met before today,’ he supplied, well aware of how she tensed beside him. ‘Our first meetings were by phone for Jill’s annual bachelor poll.’
‘And are you a ten on the Richter scale?’ Denise asked, oblivious of the warning looks Jill flashed at her. I know what I’m doing and you’ll thank me later, her mild expression seemed to say.
Jill gave up and munched on a piece of steak which had turned to cardboard in her mouth.
‘According to Jill, I’m off the scale,’ he said drily. ‘Tell them what else you said about me, Jill.’
Choking on her steak, she felt his palm crash against the small of her back, and the offending piece of meat dislodged itself. ‘There’s no need to beat me to a pulp,’ she snapped at him. His hand lingered against her spine, sending waves of heat along it.
‘Sorry, I forget my own strength sometimes,’ he said, without a hint of real apology. She had a feeling that Bryan McKinley never forgot his own strength. Or his opponent’s we
aknesses. He handed her a glass of water which she took with little grace.
‘You were going to tell us what you said about Bryan in your column,’ Denise went on relentlessly.
She gave him her sweetest look. ‘Modesty forbids me repeating it. I wouldn’t want to embarrass our guest.’
Her answer finally satisfied Denise and the conversation moved on to other topics. Unwillingly, Jill’s gaze was drawn again and again to Bryan as he discussed Nick’s plans for the wildlife refuge.
Only the cynical gleam in his eyes when he looked her way served as a reminder of his avowed intention to take revenge on Jill for the column. But how? When? Waiting for the answers tied her stomach in knots. Fortunately, only Bryan seemed aware of her growing tension as the meal progressed.
‘I’ll fetch the dessert,’ she said when Denise began to rise. She welcomed any excuse to escape from Bryan’s presence.
He thwarted her by reaching across the table to gather up the plates. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’
‘I can manage, thank you,’ she said through clenched teeth, but was hardly surprised when he followed her into the kitchen and began loading the plates into the dishwasher. Taking no for an answer obviously wasn’t his strong suit.
As she got out the dessert plates and began to slice the huge lemon meringue pie, she was aware of him watching her every move.
‘Your brother and sister-in-law are an impressive couple,’ he said, surprising her.
‘I agree,’ she said warily, wondering where he was leading.
‘I gather that the park is Nick’s life.’
‘You gather correctly. He gave up a career as a veterinarian and sold everything he owned to buy Wildhaven. It’s his dream.’
Bryan folded his arms across his broad chest, his expression impassive. ‘It’s rare to find people with a dream these days, especially one they’re willing to give up everything to realise.’
She straightened, wiping creamy hands on a towel. ‘So you see why I don’t want to burden them with our disagreement? They have more than enough on their plate with the baby coming, and trying to make the park pay its way. As it is, the land is mortgaged to the hilt.’
‘I know. One of my nominee companies holds the mortgage. We finance a lot of developments in the north-west, so it was one of the first things I checked when I found out where you’d gone to ground.’
When he went looking for a weapon to use against her, she supplied the rest. ‘Does Nick know?’ she asked tautly.
‘Obviously he knows who holds his mortgage, but not that the company is under my control. I see no need to enlighten him for the moment.’
‘For the moment? You wouldn’t use your influence to get back at me through him, would you? It wouldn’t be fair to them.’
‘Your column was hardly fair to me.’
‘But to threaten an innocent couple’s livelihood over something which wasn’t their fault…How could you?’
He spread his hands wide. ‘Anything is possible for a tinpot tycoon with delusions of sainthood.’
She clutched her hands to her temples. ‘I’m sorry I ever wrote such a thing. I was so wrong.’
‘Then you admit it?’
Raising glittering eyes to him, she nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I was wrong. I didn’t go nearly far enough in my condemnation of you. You don’t have delusions of sainthood at all. How could you, when you’re in league with the devil himself?’
He shook his head. ‘You still don’t get it, do you? Your words are useless against me. They can’t hurt me.’
He wasn’t making sense. ‘Then why are you here?’
Before he could answer, Nick backed into the kitchen, his arms laden with salad bowls. ‘Thought I’d see what’s keeping dessert.’
As Nick turned around, Bryan swept Jill into his arms, stifling her instinctive protest with the force of his lips possessing hers.
‘Oops, sorry. I’ll come back later.’
The door had closed behind Nick for several seconds before Bryan saw fit to release her. And not before he had plundered her mouth in a way which left her breathless and shaken. She had been kissed before, but never with such unbridled passion. His touch was like fire, and every nerve-ending in her body flared instantly in response, before she regained control of herself.
Turning herself to stone in his arms, she turned her head aside. ‘You bastard. You had no right to do that. If this is your idea of revenge…’
Taking his time, he freed her, the mocking amusement back in his expression. ‘My idea of revenge goes much, much further. This is a mere foretaste of what you can expect. In the interests of keeping the truth from your family, naturally.’
‘Naturally.’ If looks could kill, he would be dead where he stood. ‘You didn’t have to go this far,’ she seethed, confused by the intensity of her reaction. Was she angry with Bryan for kissing her, or with herself for the uninhibited way she had responded?
To her chagrin, he was well aware of it. How could he not be, when sparks had arced back and forth between them in the split second of body contact? A lightning strike lasted for mere seconds, but it left an indelible mark. If she checked the soles of her feet, would they be smouldering?
He chuckled softly, the sound driving her into a greater fury. ‘I haven’t gone nearly as far as I intend to with you, Jill. You’re taking on the wrong man.’
Suddenly weary of the chase, she slumped against the kitchen table. ‘All right, you win. Sue me for everything I’ve got. I’ve had enough of your catand-mouse game. And especially of being the mouse.’
He looked genuinely surprised. ‘Suing you is much too easy. All I’d get out of you in a court of law would be money.’
‘If it isn’t money you want, then what is it?’
‘Haven’t you guessed yet? The only thing I want is you.’
CHAPTER TWO
THE knife she was using to slice the pie trembled in her hand, visions of plunging it into his heart filling her mind. It wouldn’t be hygienic. The blade was sticky with lemon meringue.
Slowly she lowered the knife, her journalist’s mind picturing the headline. Cause of demise? Lemon meringue poisoning. It was too mundane an ending for a man like Bryan McKinley. A cattle stampede was more his style, the gorier the better. She drew herself up to her full height, still unable to meet more than his infuriatingly sardonic mouth. ‘You can’t be serious. My crime wasn’t as heinous as all that.’
His jaw tightened. ‘You think not? Your thoughtless article caused more harm than you can possibly know, including interfering in some investment plans of mine.’
‘Investment plans?’ When in doubt, echo the previous statement, she recalled her communications theory. His assertion that she had done some real harm had shaken her far more than she was willing to let him see.
‘Exactly. I’m involved with a foreign consortium to bring a major tourist development to the northwest. It will provide badly needed jobs and investment. Negotiations were at a delicate stage when your article appeared.’
Nervously she licked meringue off her fingers. If he wanted to make her feel guilty, he was succeeding magnificently. ‘I don’t see how one article could make that much difference,’ she said defensively.
‘Ordinarily it wouldn’t, but my associates are somewhat publicity-shy. Your childish poll couldn’t have come at a worse time for them.’
He was doing it again, disparaging her work. ‘It wasn’t childish,’ she seethed. ‘It’s a perfectly valid means of expressing an opinion.’
‘One you would have done better to keep to yourself,’ he snapped. ‘Thankfully, I shall be able to restore their confidence in the integrity of our media with time and patience, but until then the project is on hold, mostly thanks to you.’
Her strangled breath sounded loud in the quiet kitchen. ‘But how did they find out?’ Her magazine wasn’t circulated outside the country and was hardly likely to interest the foreign business community.
His broad shoulders sloped eloq
uently. ‘It hardly matters to the end result, but the article was sent to them with a covering letter designed to undermine the project even further.’
So it wasn’t only her column which did the damage. ‘Then you can hardly hold me responsible for the entire fiasco,’ she denied hotly. ‘I wasn’t the one who sent it to your associates.’
‘But you were the one who wrote it,’ he said with dangerous intensity. ‘Now the time has come to pay the piper.’
Having already endured a taste of his idea of payment, Jill suppressed a tremor. Her nerves tightened as he stretched the silence to the fullest, maximising her discomfort, she was sure. Her tongue darted out to lick arid lips as she bit back the retort which sprang to mind. There was no point in giving him even more ammunition against her.
It was obvious that he knew quite well what form he wanted his ‘payment’ to take and he was waiting for her to beg to know the nature of her punishment. Well, she was damned if she would utter a word.
‘Not even curious?’ he drawled, his eyes glinting a challenge.
‘Since I don’t have to do anything you say, why should I be?’ she asked, keeping her voice steady with an effort.
His bladed hand slashed the air. ‘Then you’d rather take the consequences?’
Tears glittered on her lashes, but she refused to shed them. Nevertheless, she knew he had won. She couldn’t let him harm Nick and Denise. ‘No,’ she admitted in a tone of surrender. ‘Damn you, what do you have in mind?’
‘That you work your penance in Bowana. The tourist development is designed to provide jobs for the young people, enabling them to stay in the area, and boosting the farmers’ incomes in hard times. Since the project is held up because of you, you’re going to find another way to bring tourists to the town in the meantime.’
He couldn’t be serious, although she was horribly afraid that he was. ‘I don’t know the first thing about tourism,’ she denied.
‘But you do know the media. The right kind of publicity is the key to success in a venture like this.’
