by Valerie Parv
‘I’m not a publicist. I’m a magazine columnist.’
His gaze hardened. ‘Before that you worked for an advertising agency as a copywriter, later account executive. Your clients included shopping centres, a radio station and a cruise company.’
Acid rose in her throat. ‘You’ve been checking up on me. How could you invade my privacy so callously?’
He dismissed her anger with a gesture. ‘The same way you invaded mine with your column.’
‘That was different. That was research.’
‘Calling it research makes it respectable, I suppose. Damn it, you think it’s OK to dig around in other people’s private lives, but it hurts when someone digs around in yours, doesn’t it?’
Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘Yes.’
‘Then be thankful I’m not inclined to publicise your activities. Your latest affair would make fascinating reading.’
‘It wasn’t an affair,’ she shot back. How had he found out about David Hockey? ‘David is a colleague and we went out a few times. When I found out that he was still married, and not separated as I’d believed, I stopped seeing him.’
‘Commendable of you,’ Bryan sneered. ‘It took you what, three months, to find out that he still had a wife?’
‘She was overseas for most of those three months.’ She brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes, the gesture mirroring her frustration. ‘I’m sure I’m not the first woman to be duped by a married man.’
‘Probably not even the first to be duped by that particular married man,’ he commented cynically.
‘If you know so much, then you must know I’m the wrong person to help you save your town,’ she threw at him.
‘On the contrary, you’re the ideal person to do it. I’d say a month’s commitment would be enough to redress the damage you’ve caused.’
Her jaw dropped. How could she possibly work with him for a month? ‘I can’t. I have my job with the magazine.’
‘They can do without you for four weeks. Your editor assures me you have that much leave accrued.’
‘You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?’ she demanded bitterly.
His expression was impassive. ‘I usually do.’ He picked up the pie she’d been mechanically serving. ‘We’ll settle the details after lunch.’
‘There’s no point; I’m not coming,’ she insisted, but with the uncomfortable feeling that he had already won. The swing-door between the kitchen and the dining-room rocked gently, mocking her denial which he hadn’t even heard.
‘I’m not coming,’ she whispered to the closed door. He couldn’t force her to, could he? Yes, he could, she acknowledged, slumping against a cupboard. As long as he controlled the mortgage over her brother’s property, he controlled her. And he knew it, damn him.
She had no doubt that he would use any weapon at his disposal if she didn’t co-operate. And she couldn’t let him hurt Nick and Denise because of her. She had never hated anyone as much as she hated Bryan McKinley at that moment.
Thinking of the insolent way his eyes had devoured her, she shuddered. There must be some way to satisfy his conditions without going to his town herself. She didn’t like the way her body responded to his presence almost independently of her will. Going with him would be like walking into the lion’s den. There must be another way.
The others had almost finished dessert when she rejoined them, bringing the coffee-pot to excuse her delay. ‘Now I know how you keep trim,’ Denise observed. ‘Keep busy during dessert.’
Jill avoided Bryan’s eyes, although she could feel the heat of his gaze on her. Well, let him look. She was proud of her trim figure, honed through regular sessions of aerobics and as much walking as she could fit into her busy life. With an appetite like hers, Jill needed all the help she could get.
‘You should try this pie. It’s delicious.’ Bryan pushed the last slice of lemon meringue towards her.
If Nick or Denise had offered, she would have weakened, but refusing Bryan was easy. With a look which told him she wouldn’t accept food from him during a famine, she pushed the plate back. ‘I can’t accept, really.’ They both knew she didn’t mean the pie.
His dark eyes mocked her. ‘You might find it more to your liking than you think.’
‘I’d probably choke on it.’
‘Dear me, I hope you don’t mean my cooking.’ Denise sounded alarmed.
‘Of course not. Bryan meant something else.’
Nick grinned broadly, no doubt thinking of the scene he’d interrupted in the kitchen. Jill’s swift kick under the table banished the grin before he could make a facetious comment. Instead, he took a swallow of coffee.
Since she could hardly kick Denise, it was her sister-in-law who asked, ‘What do you have in mind, Bryan?’
‘Jill’s thinking of coming to Bowana to help develop the place for tourism,’ he said blandly. ‘I’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow. We can drive north in convoy.’
Panic flashed through her before she mastered it. It seemed she had little choice but to co-operate. At least she wouldn’t have to share a car with Bryan through the long drive, and she could leave when ready. She was ready now, she acknowledged to herself. But as long as he held the mortgage to Wildhaven, she was trapped. ‘You have everything worked out, haven’t you?’ she asked in an acid tone.
‘It pays in the outback,’ he assured her. He pushed his chair back from the table. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have calls to make. I’ll see you in the morning, Jill.’ He named a time which made her gasp.
‘That’s practically the crack of dawn.’
‘It’s the best time to travel these roads.’ He planted his Akubra hat far back on his head and touched two fingers to it, saying to Denise, ‘Thanks for the lunch.’
Denise smiled warmly. ‘Any friend of Jill’s is welcome any time, Bryan. You’ll see your guest out, won’t you, Jill?’
Seething inwardly, Jill stalked to the door and let it slam behind her, cutting Bryan off. Tut-tutting softly, he pushed it open and moved up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. ‘Is that any way to treat a friend?’
She wished his hands didn’t feel like brands, fiery through her T-shirt. ‘I didn’t want to upset Denise, but I’d hardly call us friends. I can’t possibly come to Bowana tomorrow, but I can talk to some people in Perth about the tourism idea. They may be able to help.’
None too gently he turned her to face him and his eyes burned into her. They were like hot coals, and she flinched from the heat which thruatened to sear her soul. ‘You owe me this, Jill, and you’re going to pay. You personally, not your friends back in the city.’
What had happened to her heart? Suddenly it was beating double time, hammering an alarming tattoo against her ribs. Her breath tangled in her throat. ‘You can’t make me come with you.’
He glanced back towards the house. ‘Are you quite sure about that?’
‘But if I don’t, you’ll make things hard for Nick and Denise. What kind of a man are you, threatening innocent people in order to get your own way?’
His forefinger traced a lazy line along her jaw and down the side of her throat, connecting with the throbbing pulse-point in her neck. He let the hand linger there a moment, as if taking the measure of her inner turmoil. ‘When you get to Bowana, you’ll find out what kind of man I am.’
His mouth hovered tantalisingly close, the cleft between nose and lips deeply shadowed. There was another shadow in the cleft of his chin, inviting her touch to see if the valleys were as deep as they seemed. She shook his hand away. ‘You don’t leave me much choice, do you?’
His smile ravished her. ‘I don’t think you really want me to.’
She found her voice with an effort. ‘Of all the arrogant, presumptuous…’ But it was too late. He was already halfway to his car. She heard him humming under his breath.
So he thought she wanted to go with him, did he? Her column had been right all along. He was a tinpot tycoon with delusions of…of
…Sainthood hardly fitted any more. He was no candidate for canonisation. Boiling in oil would be too good for him.
She refused to fuel his ego by watching him drive away, but as she spun around she bumped into Nick, emerging from the house. ‘Are all outback men as tyrannical as Bryan McKinley?’ she demanded furiously.
Nick laughed. ‘Probably not. His success didn’t come by being soft-hearted.’
‘To be soft-hearted, you need to have a heart in the first place,’ she flung back, trying to ignore the sound of an engine revving. Nick waved, and it was all she could do not to turn around and watch Bryan leave. Good riddance to him, she tried to tell herself. Maybe he’d drive his car into a tree and be in plaster from neck to knee for the next three months, so she wouldn’t have to go with him tomorrow.
‘See you at dawn, Jill,’ she heard him say, and knew that no tree would dare stand in Bryan McKinley’s way.
‘Not if I see you first,’ she muttered under her breath.
Her brother chuckled. ‘Well, well. It seems my dear sister has finally met her match.’
She gave him a horrified look. ‘Me and that…that back-woodsman? You must be joking.’
‘I wouldn’t underestimate Bryan,’ he cautioned her. ‘He can muster stocks and shares as efficiently as he musters cattle, so don’t be fooled by the casual shirt and jeans. He runs his cattle stations as businesses, from his headquarters in Bowana.’
‘Next thing you’ll be telling me he takes in widows and orphans.’
Nick rested his hands against the veranda railing. ‘For all I know, he might. You have to admit, he’s an improvement on some of the wimps you’ve been seeing.’
Colour flamed in her cheeks. She and Nick had been best friends all their lives, clinging to one another rather than risk making other friends when their father, an outback policeman, moved from one posting to another. She had never suspected that he disapproved of her men friends. ‘David Hockey wasn’t a wimp,’ she denied.
‘But he was married. Face it, little sister, you’re one high-powered lady. You need a man who’s at least your equal.’
Like Bryan McKinley? she wondered. ‘I’m not sure I care to be labelled “high-powered”,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘It isn’t meant as a criticism. But you earn more than most men do. You have your own town house in Perth and you’ve travelled all over. How many men can match, far less exceed, your achievements?’
She touched the back of her hand to his cheek. ‘You can, big brother. And I don’t mean in net worth. What you’re doing here is worth far more than anything I’ve done up to now.’
‘Then maybe Bryan’s right. A challenge like saving Bowana is what you need.’
‘Never.’ She swore under her breath. How could Nick imagine that she wanted to be involved with a heartless tyrant like Bryan McKinley, no matter how noble his cause? She would rather die!
She wondered if Nick would think Bryan so wonderful if he knew that the other man held the mortgage to Wildhaven as surety for her cooperation.
All the same, he was a ten on the Richter scale, she thought contrarily. If only she hadn’t included him in her frivolous annual survey, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now. Oh, the joys of hindsight, she reminded herself. His photo had screamed ‘ten’ at her from the beginning.
In fact, it was hard to remember anything at all about the other nine men, she realised. There was the son of a mining magnate and—er—the presenter of a current affairs programme. Darn it, why couldn’t she bring them to mind when she’d dated at least three of them at different times?
The symptoms of the virus must be bothering her still, she decided. It was the only acceptable reason why one bachelor should dominate her mind to the exclusion of all the rest.
CHAPTER THREE
‘AND no more kissing, understand?’
The moment Bryan’s gaze dipped to her full lips, made glossy with sunscreen cream, she regretted raising the subject of kissing. It was an instant, painful reminder of a moment she’d prefer to forget. Instead, her errant mind went into an actionreplay of his hand pressed against her spine while he took advantage of her surprise to commandeer her mouth.
His face reflected cynical amusement. ‘There’s no need, since we won’t have your brother and sister-in-law to impress. Besides, driving in the desert doesn’t leave much time for other diversions.’
‘I’m hardly a diversion,’ she seethed, furious to hear the kiss dismissed so lightly when it had haunted her throughout a restless night. Searching for a reason, she had finally blamed his highhandedness. No one had ever treated her so arrogantly. Instead of helping to shield Denise from the real reason for his visit, he had been helping himself—to her.
His chin was shadowed, as if he hadn’t shaved before coming to collect her, and he massaged the rough skin. ‘As a man, I disagree. You’re enough to divert the concentration of any red-blooded male.’
Despite the dawn coolness, she felt her face grow warm. ‘Am I supposed to be flattered? Next you’ll be saying it was all my fault. Some men just don’t know how to take no for an answer.’
His dark eyes gleamed. ‘I can take no for an answer, provided it isn’t a disguised yes.’
‘I don’t recall being given a choice either way.’
How had the conversation shifted on to such personal ground so quickly? All she’d tried to do was to establish some ground rules before they set off. It seemed reasonable. She knew him only by reputation, and if she believed even half of it she would be crazy to go with him. Obviously she didn’t believe it all. Yet he had already taken advantage of an awkward situation. What was to stop him doing it again, when they were miles from civilisation?
He pushed his wide-brimmed hat back and fanned long fingers through the dark hair trailing across his forehead. ‘You had a choice, and you made it.’
He was implying that she had not only accepted but enjoyed his kiss. ‘Of all the conceited…’
His angry look chilled her into silence. ‘More compliments, Jill? Aren’t you afraid of provoking a big-headed bully?’
Her intended insult died on her lips as he quoted another line from her column with dangerous emphasis, affirming her own worst fears. Oh, why couldn’t she have deleted the article before she became ill?
For a moment she thought longingly of turning around and driving back to Perth, until she remembered what was at stake. How could she leave her family’s fate in the hands of such a ruthless man?
His hand clamped around her wrist, turning her to face him. ‘Don’t even think of running away. We have an agreement and I intend to hold you to it.’
The ferocity of his grip made her eyes glisten. How had he known what she was thinking? ‘I’m not a coward,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll come to your town and do my best for you, but that’s all I’ll do.’
‘It’s all I’m asking you to do.’
He released her and she made a show of rubbing her wrist, although there was no real pain. He had gauged his strength precisely. She debated whether to try for the last word, then thought better of it. The verbal sparring was only making her uncomfortably aware of him as a man.
Not that she needed reminding. She had only to let her eyes dwell on the breadth of his shoulders and travel down his arms to where his rolled-back shirt-sleeves hugged work-hardened biceps. His moleskin trousers rode low on narrow hips, the taut material creased with desert dust into folds which practically advertised his masculinity.
Annoyed with herself, she tore her gaze away. ‘Then let’s get this over with.’
He had already checked her four-wheel-drive car, reducing the pressure in the tyres to cope with the sand dunes which lay ahead of them. She had protested when he insisted on removing the protection plates under the vehicle body. ‘Won’t I need them if we have to cross rocky terrain or creeks?’ she protested.
He had climbed underneath and removed the plates anyway, then showed them to her. ‘This sharp edge will mow down all the spinifex
which grows between the wheel tracks. Inside an hour you’ll have so much spinifex in there, you’ll have to take the plates off anyway. By then the car will have generated enough heat to set the whole mess on fire.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, oh.’ Her ignorance of such matters was monumental, but surprisingly he didn’t rub it in. Instead, he continued his methodical checking until he was satisfied with their small convoy. ‘Right, we’re off, then.’
She said goodbye to Nick and Denise, who promised to keep in touch by radio telephone. ‘Have fun,’ Denise called as Jill swung herself into the driver’s seat and followed in Bryan’s dusty wake.
She managed a smile and a wave, but her heart sank. Some fun it was going to be, ploughing over mountainous sand dunes and through car-eating grasses to get to a one-horse town she was supposed to save single-handedly. ‘Take it easy,’ her doctor had prescribed. She doubted that this was what she’d had in mind.
She had to admit the desert was a beautiful sight. As they left Wildhaven behind, the first rays of sun turned the sand blood-red and stained the clumps of spinifex with lilac and gold.
The going was rough, and her arms began to ache from fighting the steering-wheel. Her teeth chattered as she jolted over a cattle grid. As she changed into four-wheel-drive for the umpteenth time, she began to wonder when they would stop for a break. She dared not risk letting his car out of sight, but her throat was parched from the dust forcing its way into the cabin through every crevice, and gritty from the spinifex seeds the cooling system dragged into the car.
Bryan had been right about the spinifex. Every few miles they had to stop and pull handfuls of it out of every nook and cranny. Heavy gloves were needed to clean the car’s red-hot exhaust system. A fire wasn’t hard to imagine.
The road was little more than wheel indentations in the sand. More of a guide was the fence line they followed north-east along the southern bank of a dry creek. They seemed to be heading for a pass in the rock hills. In the shimmering heat, it was impossible to guess how far away it was.
