The Man From Southern Cross

by Way, Margaret

  “So I am.” He answered more mildly. “Aren’t the facts good enough, lady lawyer?”

  Her iridescent eyes turned toward him. “I sympathize, David. Didn’t I convey that?”

  “Then who are you acting for?”

  “You,” she breathed. “Bitterness doesn’t heal wounds, David. It leaves them open and festering.”

  It was a ‘judgment’ he’d made himself, even as his emotions held sway. “So what are you saying I should do?” he asked harshly.

  “End the torment. Your mother speaks of you all the time, David. To this day she agonizes about you.”

  “Roishin, you’re breaking my heart.”

  She propped herself up again, looking as though she wanted to reach out for him but didn’t dare. “Couldn’t you meet with her?”

  “No,” he said in a hard emphatic voice.

  “As an adult you’ve never heard her side of the story.”

  “I heard it all from my father. I had absolute trust in him.”

  “He was unhappy and hurting, David. He was a man of considerable power and influence, and your mother damaged his pride. Doesn’t it bother you that she may have a different story to tell? She tried very hard to contact you after your father died.”

  The tension that had gathered in his body found expression in his voice. It sounded daunting even to his own ears. “It seems to me, Roishin, that you’ve decided to act on my mother’s behalf.”

  “No, David,” she protested, the movement of her head making her hair swirl around her shoulders. “It’s your antagonism to me that’s caused me to speak. I felt it rush for me the moment you laid eyes on me that first day—when I was coming down the stairs. It shocked me so much it nearly stopped my heart. It was all there in your eyes. They’re wonderful eyes, David, but their expression more often than not threatens me.”

  “Stop this, Roishin. Right now.”

  She shook her head. “Please hear me out. I know you’d never hurt me. You’re a civilized man. The women in your family adore you. What I’m talking about is more an assault on my psyche.”

  “Dear me!” There was a wealth of mockery in his tone.

  “I don’t want you to hate me, David. I don’t want that at all. And I refuse to be a victim. Your victim.”

  “Shut up, Roishin,” he said very coolly.

  “And if I refuse?” She kept her voice steady, but there was a throb of emotion in her eyes.

  “Look, you can argue in a thousand different ways. I’m sure you’re very good, but the fact remains. I have no mother. I haven’t had one for the past twenty years and more. I have a stepmother of whom I’m very fond. I have twin sisters I love. None is the sort of woman who hurts people. Annabel is getting married in a couple of days. She’ll be a great wife and mother, a man’s best companion. So will Van when her turn comes. As for you, I’m sure you’ll make a brilliant marriage. You have everything going for you. You’re beautiful, clever, you have the right connections. You’re everything a man could want. Every man but me. So much for our wedding beneath the eternal desert stars!”

  “I’m not sorry I spoke.”

  Was there the glimmer of tears in her beautiful eyes? It affected him powerfully. “And I’m not sorry for this, either!”

  He caught her face between his strong fingers, bearing her down to him, turning her on her back. He caught her mouth beneath his own, burning with a furious frightening passion. Her mouth still bore the taste and scent of wild berries, and he explored it hungrily, mercilessly, the way a bee devours nectar. He could feel her slender body trembling as it had on their other brief encounter. He wanted her. Completely. He wanted everything she was.

  It was a love that could destroy him.

  Love!

  It was over almost as swiftly as it had begun. He sprang to his feet while she lay back. She didn’t speak. While he loomed over her, she closed her eyes.

  What am I doing? he thought. I’m punishing her because she’s brought me face-to-face with myself. I’ve searched for her all my life and now I’ve found her, I treat her abominably.

  What the hell’s the matter with me?

  God, wasn’t it clear enough?

  He loved her. He had loved her at first sight.

  Another Mountford tragedy to play out?

  Chapter Four

  HE CAME INSTANTLY AWAKE as the first lambent blue light stole through the desert oaks and moved over the still water hole in long silver wisps. He felt no hint of tiredness, though he had barely closed his eyes. He made a quick inspection of the campsite, his gaze lingering on Roishin’s sleeping form. He stretched his limbs briefly, then rose to check on Matt. Matt’s face bore a faint grimace as though pain was seeping into his subconscious. The sooner he got his young cousin back to the homestead, the better. Matt’s condition meant a quick trip to Derby Base Hospital.

  He moved back toward Roishin. Through his fragmented dreams, his mind had been full of her. She had entered his bloodstream and he didn’t know what to do about it. He approached her very quietly, going down on his knees.

  She was lying on her back, one arm upstretched, the other at her side. Her thick gleaming hair made a dark halo around her face. His eyes fell to her breasts. They rose and fell gently with every quiet breath. Seen asleep, her beauty had an innocence and purity that struck at his heart. It touched him with reverence, longing and—inevitably—passion. His hard body began to stir. Wanting her was coming close to physical torture. He saw that as his punishment. He continued to stare at her, fascinated. His hand moved involuntarily, touched her cheek. Her skin was like satin, lustrous, smooth, warm to the touch. Very gently, he said her name; despite himself, he touched a palm to the curve of her breast.

  Immediately she opened her eyes. Her lips moved; her breath fluttered. She arched her back, then sat up with swift sinuous grace, moving almost into his arms.

  “It’s all right, David. I’m awake.” She said it sweetly, as though ready and anxious to help and sustain him.

  They were so very close he could see a pulse begin to beat at the base of her throat. He touched a finger to it, let it linger there and felt her heartbeat. His hands began to shape her delicate shoulders, then he pulled her into him, profoundly aroused.

  “I don’t have the strength to resist you,” he muttered.

  With one arm, he encircled her, bringing her even closer to him. Her mouth opened under his, her full lips so tender, so soft, surrendering to his mouth’s hard pressure with startling sweetness and ardor. The moment would live in his memory, no matter what happened. She had spoken about wounds. She was healing his one by one. It was part of her power. All at once he felt it was time to be brutally honest with himself. Could he trust her? Could he trust her? He knew that if he let her go, he would miss her all the rest of his life.

  His breathing harsh, he released her. She, too, was quiet, as though she found it difficult to speak. “What is it you want from me, David?” she whispered finally, looking up at his dark head bowed over hers.

  It was obvious that she had no certainty in her heart. Why would she? He had shown her a bewildering range of emotions, from outright hostility to blind passion.

  “Nothing. Everything,” he answered, as if such a contradiction was perfectly normal.

  “Oh, David!” Her blue-green eyes turned liquid, sparkled like jewels.

  “I think we’d better stand up.” He brought them to their feet, keeping an arm around her—it was so damned difficult to let her go. “Come on. Let’s walk to the bike. It’ll be light soon. The bike will wake Matt if the birds don’t. They’re starting to call.”

  “You do expect a search party to be out?”

  “You can count on it,” he reassured her. “I should meet them halfway. Matt will need ore painkillers when he gets up. Make him a cup of tea.”

  “I’ll do that,” she said quietly.

  “You’ve done very well.”

  “I sense that you’re still waiting for me to stumble.”

>   “That’s the dilemma, Roishin.” His dilemma. The contradictions of his heart.

  THE HOUSEHOLD didn’t settle down again until Rex Mountford flew back into Southern Cross, a chastened Matthew in tow. He’d flown his son to Derby Base Hospital, and now Matt’s left arm was in plaster and a stitch had been inserted in the gash over his left eye. It had been a long worrying night for everyone. As Mountford had predicted, the search party left the main compound in the predawn, meeting up with him several miles from the caves. No one was the least surprised that Mountford had found them, but anxiety had mounted when it became apparent he hadn’t been able to make the return journey by Jeep.

  An unexpected fallout of the misadventure was that Annabel had had a tiff with Michael. For several hours the wedding appeared to be in jeopardy.

  “What started it, for God’s sake?” Mountford asked Sasha with some irritation.

  “It’s not serious, Mont. Really.” Sasha gave a feeble laugh. “Michael wanted to go out after you, and Annabel told him not to be a fool. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have said such a thing, but she was so worried that Matt might have done something foolish and she’d let Roishin go with him. Poor old Michael was mortified, so it sort of went on from there. Poor boy—he meant well, but he doesn’t know the bush at all. He’d only have lost himself.”

  “You can say that again!” Mountford agreed. “But it’s unlike Belle to be so volatile.”

  “It’s a big thing, getting married, Mont,” Sasha said, obviously thinking of her own wedding day. “A big commitment. Putting one’s life and happiness into another person’s hands is pretty scary. Lots of brides and grooms get cold feet. It’s only a passing thing with Belle.”

  “That’s good to know,” he said dryly.

  “You know what I mean, darling. Belle loves her Michael. He’s a fine young man with a future. He wants to go into politics, I believe.”

  “I guess someone’s got to do it.”

  “Don’t tease, darling. And don’t worry about Belle. Anxiety put her under undue pressure. She’s extremely fond of Roishin. She and Van were blaming themselves dreadfully.”

  “I can understand that,” he answered crisply. “Well, I hope the lovebirds make it up very soon. We’ll have three hundred guests on Southern Cross in another forty-eight hours, all of them expecting to enjoy a wedding.”

  “And they will, Mont.” Sasha looked up at him with myopic intensity. “This will all blow over, you’ll see. Why, Roishin’s having a good long talk with Belle right now. She’s marvelous at calming people down. I suppose it’s her legal training. I’m such a ditherer. Roishin will make some lucky man a wonderful wife.”

  Roishin some lucky man’s wife! The thought appalled him. For the first time in his life he felt a great wave of sexual jealousy. He didn’t take kindly to the idea of Roishin in any other man’s arms, much less married to him.

  “Is everything okay, Mont?” Sasha was asking in a worried voice.

  “Sure.” He smiled at her.

  “You do look so…formidable at times.”

  “I’ll try to smile more often.”

  “You should, darling. You have a devastating smile. The sort that makes women go weak in the knees.”

  He groaned and heaved himself to his feet. “Sasha, I have to be going.”

  “Your turn will come, darling,” she taunted him smilingly. “A man like you only falls once. Very hard!”

  He didn’t answer, but threw her a quick mocking smile.

  THE DAY BEFORE the wedding was sheer pandemonium. The airstrip might have been a domestic terminal with all the comings and goings. All the station Jeeps were in use, ferrying people up to the house; even the station helicopter was put into commission, landing quantities of food and the huge consignment of flowers on the rear lawn close to the kitchens and the refrigerated room that would serve as storage. Annabel and Michael were mercifully back on the best of terms, but Vanessa was more upset than she was letting on. She was going to miss her twin, Mountford thought with sympathy. They’d been inseparable from birth.

  In the ballroom, where everything was in place save for the flowers, which would be arranged the following morning, the decorator and the floral designer had a serious falling out. The decorator, in particular, was flouncing around like an actor, and Mountford stood in the doorway, for once at a loss. The floral designer, a slim dapper man in informal but expensive gear, suddenly burst into tears. Mountford looked on in horror. Where were the women? He didn’t want to get involved in this.

  Like a miracle, Roishin and Vanessa appeared in the hallway, talking earnestly, and he put up a hand to alert them. Both young women jumped to attention.

  “What is it, Mont?”

  “Listen—a crisis.”

  “You go, Roishin,” Vanessa begged as they took in the situation. “I have complete confidence in your ability to avert a war.”

  Even Roishin looked a little wary, but she headed for the ballroom.

  “There must be some way we can thank Roishin,” Vanessa said. “She’s been a tower of strength.”

  “I’ll think of something,” Mountford promised, grateful himself for Roishin’s communication skills. “Personally I’to knock those two fellows’ heads together. I’m paying them a fortune. They’re supposed to be top people, and I expect professionalism. Which includes good sense and good humor.”

  “They’re nervous like the rest of us, Mont. They take their jobs very seriously and they don’t like their territory invaded. You have to admit the room looks magnificent!”

  “It does.” His gaze swept the double-height ballroom with its balustraded gallery—projecting balconies that encircled the ballroom. The musicians would take up their positions there. He could see the gleaming ebony lid of the Steinway already up. Guests would be accommodated along the minstrel gallery, as well as on the terrazzo floor. His eyes returned to Roishin, who was chatting to the two temperamental decorators. “Good grief, will you look at that!” he said softly. “She’s got them laughing.”

  “She really knows how to put on the charm,” Vanessa smiled. “I’m glad you recognize she’s a very dear and valued friend of this family.”

  “Whatever you say, Van.”

  “She’s waited a long time to meet you.”

  “So?”

  “So…I figure she’s a great success.”

  “Okay, Van,” he said equably, “you want me to say I’m madly in love with her?”

  “If ever a man’s capable of being madly in love, you are.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Vanessa didn’t smile. She looked at him very seriously. “You’re that rare thing, Mont. You’re a man of action and imagination. You’re strong—like tempered steel—and you’re sensitive. You’re tough and you’re romantic. The right woman could really get to you.”

  “I haven’t cracked yet, Van.”

  “You will.”

  They both watched as Roishin made her way back to them. She was wearing burgundy-colored slacks with a matching silk singlet that left her arms and neck bare. A bright turquoise belt was around her narrow waist; there were gold earrings on her ears, gold bangles at her wrist. A casual enough outfit, yet she made it look haute couture.

  She moved beautifully, he thought—sliding her legs from the thigh like a racehorse. The muscles of his stomach tightened into a hard knot. The great Irish chandeliers, four in all, had been turned on with brilliant effect, and for a split second, as Roishin stepped under the last one, she was all glittering animation. Her long hair gleamed like some dark exotic wood, her magnolia skin glowed, her eyes with their alluring slant were dense with color, more blue than green.

  She looked wonderful.

  “A penny for your thoughts, Mont,” Vanessa whispered.

  “I was just wondering how Roishin solved the problem so quickly.”

  “Incredible!” she crowed. “David Mountford telling fibs!”

  The second Roishin rejoined them, Vanessa aske
d, “So what was wrong?”

  “Neither of them was prepared to give an inch to the other. I suggested a soothing cup of tea, which I’ll go and organize. Colin wanted the urns filled with orchids. Darren wanted them filled with the wonderful ferns he’d flown in. I suggested the urns on stands be filled with orchids, the ones on the floor with ferns. A simple compromise.”

  “You mean that’s what they were arguing about?” Mountford asked in a disbelieving tone.

  Roishin nodded mildly. “A legitimate concern. Darren doesn’t like the way Colin’s tied the bows on the chairs, either. Actually, I think Darren might make them even more attractive. I suggested he have a go, and Annabel will make the final decision.”

  “So they’ve had a tough day?”

  Roishin laughed. “It’s their job, David. They’re both creative people. The wedding is a big showcase for their talents.”

  “Another falling-out like that and the deal’s off,” Mountford warned.

  “Rehearsal at six, Mont,” Vanessa called after him. “It won’t take long. The corroboree starts at nine. Roishin’s never seen one, you know. It should be exciting.”

  THE REHEARSAL went off smoothly, and afterward a buffet dinner was served in the formal dining room. The house was humming with music and laughter, the conversation ranging over dozens of topics, all pleasant because of the occasion. The women wore pretty dresses; the men wore jackets and ties.

  Looking around with satisfaction, Mountford saw the bridesmaids had paired off with their respective partners for the ceremony. It had even been suggested to him very quietly by Sasha that Vanessa had taken a shine to Skip Courtney, Michael’s brother and the best man. The family resemblance was very strong. Both young men were fair, blue-eyed, medium tall, with open engaging faces. Both had ready smiles. It would be surprising if Vanessa didn’t find Skip attractive, Mountford thought. The twins had the same taste in everything from food to men. And Skip appeared to be pulling out all the stops to entertain Vanessa.