Kitabı oku: «Australia: In Bed with a King», sayfa 6
“I might add that none of what we have now will survive unless there’s a next generation.” Her dark eyes glittered at Nathan and then moved to Tommy. “What will all your work and enterprise be worth then?”
“We’re not exactly old men,” Tommy protested jokingly.
“Time doesn’t wait,” his mother warned. “People always think there’s plenty of time. Take it from me, Tommy, time runs out and what has been postponed never happens.”
“Ah, now we’re getting back to choice,” Nathan drawled. “Do we seize the day or plan for the future? What do you think, Miranda?”
He was zeroing in on her now, pouring out a current of energy that wound around her and tugged on the desire to pursue whatever might develop between them. Her pulse rate accelerated so quickly she felt dizzy. It was decision time. She could turn him off with her reply or open the door. Denial or risk?
His mother’s words drummed through her mind… time running out…opportunities lost… She didn’t know what her life was moving towards, didn’t know if Nathan King could become an important part of it. All she knew was she no longer wanted to deny the chance that he might.
“I think I would like to read Sarah’s diaries,” she said, playing the safest line she could while inviting more contact with him.
For a moment it seemed she’d startled him. Then his eyes started dancing in amusement and his mouth widened into a grin. “I think you’ll find your interest rewarded. I’ll bring them over to you as soon as Jim Hoskins returns them.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”
He laughed, a ripple of joyous warmth that was far more intoxicating than a champagne cocktail.
Whether it was triggered by pleasure or triumph or simply amusement at the way she had answered him, Miranda couldn’t tell. He was stunningly handsome when he laughed, his face alive with magnetic vitality, and it shot a wild zing of elation through her.
He was special.
She couldn’t be feeling like this if he wasn’t.
And right at this moment, she didn’t care what the cost might be of knowing more of him.
CHAPTER TEN
DAY after day Miranda reminded herself she could not expect to see Nathan until Jim Hoskins returned Sarah’s diaries, yet no amount of reasoning lessened the anticipation zinging through her mind, the excitement that fluttered through her every time she thought of being with him, and each day she felt a twinge of disappointment that he hadn’t come.
When she lay in bed at night, she mentally replayed every minute of the dinner party at the station home-stead, interpreting and re-interpreting Nathan’s every word and action.
There was no doubt in her mind he had meant to push for another chance to move into her life, and when she’d given it, he was wise enough, or clever enough, not to capitalise on it too much, too soon. In fact, after he’d won what he wanted, he’d turned the dinner conversation back to general topics until they all rose from the table to have coffee and liqueurs back in the lounge room.
Then had come his casual offer to give her a personal tour of the photographs in the hallway. He’d pointed out the people he’d spoken of, giving a quick potted history of their lives on the cattle station, told a few amusing stories about them, and answered Miranda’s questions without once attempting to seize any advantage with her.
There was no physical touching. Nevertheless, every time their eyes met, it felt as though he was reaching into her, stamping himself more and more irrevocably on her life and drawing her into his. The power of it was both exhilarating and frightening. Even when she and Sam left, she could feel it following her…desire that somehow tunnelled deeper than any desire she’d known before.
To Miranda’s secret relief, Sam hadn’t noticed anything special occurring with Nathan, or she was reserving comment on it. Neither Tommy nor Jared had shown any awareness that a shift had taken place be-tween their brother and the new resort manager. Even Elizabeth King had seemed content with the evening at the end of it.
Of course, this privacy wouldn’t last…couldn’t once Nathan made his next move. This was a small community. People were going to notice and talk. But at least Nathan wasn’t directly involved with the resort business, and the way he’d kept away from her so far proved there would be no unpleasantness at work, should a relationship between them not go well. Though she couldn’t help hoping it would be something special. Really special.
As it happened, no amount of thinking prepared her for the circumstances that hit her on Thursday afternoon, just five days after she’d opened an invitational door to Nathan King. She’d done the rounds of the resort, checking that all accommodations levels were up to standard for the heavily booked weekend ahead, and supplies were more than adequate to meet demand. It was just past four o’clock when she entered her ad-ministration office, and without warning, the new world she’d begun to believe was free from her past, was suddenly attacked by it.
Val Warren, her clerical assistant, greeted her with a happy grin. “That cancellation we had on one of the homestead suites for this weekend…it’s been taken up. We’ve got a full house again.”
“Great! Short notice, though.”
“I guess people who stay here can afford to be spontaneous,” Val reasoned.
“Lucky for us! I’ll have to check with Roberto that he’s got enough gourmet food for the extra guests. What are their names?”
Val looked back at her monitor screen. “Married couple, currently staying at the Ayer’s Rock resort, chartering a plane to fly directly here tomorrow, expected arrival time three o’clock…and their names are Celine and Bobby Hewson.”
Miranda could feel the blood draining from her face. “Right!” she said weakly, and spun out of the office before Val saw the shock she’d delivered.
For several moments she leaned back against the closed door, fighting to recover some equilibrium. Maybe it was another Bobby Hewson whose wife just happened to be named Celine. They weren’t uncommon names. Ayer’s Rock, where they were currently staying, was like an Australian Mecca for tourists…the ancient red heart of the continent…but she couldn’t imagine the Bobby she knew wanting to go there. But what about his wife? If she had accompanied him to Sydney…a honeymoon sight-seeing trip…
Wife…Miranda shook her head. Surely they weren’t even married yet. The engagement had only been announced three months ago. Shouldn’t it take longer than that to arrange a big society wedding? It had to be some other couple. Had to be…
There was one way of settling any uncertainty. Galvanised into action, Miranda strode down the hall to her live-in quarters, intent on putting through a private call to the manager of the Ayer’s Rock resort. The Bobby Hewson she knew would not be an unobtrusive guest. He would demand the best suite, the best service, and would let the manager know precisely who he was and what he stood for.
Once inside her self-contained apartment, Miranda moved straight to the telephone on her bedside table. She reached for the receiver, saw that her hand was trembling and sat down on the bed to compose herself, taking several deep breaths before proceeding to make the needed contact. A few minutes later she was connected to the man who could give her the critical information.
“This is Miranda Wade, manager of the King’s Eden Resort.”
“Hi, there! What can I do for you?”
“Today we took a booking for a Mr and Mrs Bobby Hewson…”
“Ah yes, made it for him myself. He and his wife had planned to fly on to Broome. Another couple we have staying here—you’ll remember them—John and Robyn Trumbell—apparently raved on about King’s Eden and they decided to take in a weekend there. Lucky you could accommodate them.”
“Yes. Would that be the Bobby Hewson of the Regent Hotel chain?”
“Certainly is,” came the dry reply.
Miranda’s heart dropped like a stone.
“And his wife is a member of the Parmentier family who owns the Soleil Levant chain,” the manager ran on, confirming their identities beyond any possible doubt. “It’s her first trip to Australia. Keen to see the sights.”
Coincidence…sheer rotten coincidence that they had connected with the Trumbells! And finding available accommodation here! Miranda felt too sick to speak.
“Mr Hewson mentioned that you’d been trained up to a managerial position at the Regent in Sydney. Sounded as though he was interested in finding out how you’re dealing with an outback resort.”
Bobby knew she was here! It wasn’t just a trick of fate. He knew. John or Robyn Trumbell must have spoken of her. And that was why he was breaking his trip to Broome to come to King’s Eden. Nothing to do with the sights, though he’d probably played that line to his wife. Bobby Hewson, Miranda knew with stomach churning certainty, had her in his sights!
“I thought it might be him,” she forced herself to say through the bitter taste of bile. “Thank you for filling me in.”
“Well, I guess you now know what to expect.”
“Yes. I do. Thank you again.”
She hung up, her mind crawling with scenarios of what she could expect, and every one of them was a nightmare from hell. Tears started welling, tears of miserable frustration at not having escaped the punishment Bobby Hewson would inevitably deal out to her for having flouted his plans. She remembered only too well her last meeting with him, her eyes cleared of the gullible scales that had blinded her to the man he really was…seeing the totally selfish ego behind his smiling charm.
He had expected her to give in to him.
She’d walked away. Flown away.
And now he was going to catch up with her.
The tears overflowed and trickled down her cheeks. She bent over, pulled off her shoes and socks, then curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow for comfort. She was facing a totally wretched situation. He’d arrive tomorrow, then all day Saturday, all day Sunday, three nights…and he’d be getting at her every chance he had. She knew he would.
Regrets for ever having fallen in love with him savaged her as she wept into the pillow. It hadn’t been a real love. More a prolonged affair, sugared and peppered by the excitement and glamour Bobby always brought with him on his flying trips to Sydney. He’d swept in and out of her life, dazzling her with his charm, seducing her with honeyed words, always leav-ing with the promise of having more time with her on his next visit, making her feel important to him, necessary to him.
She’d fitted in with what he’d wanted. He hadn’t cared about her needs. Didn’t care about them now, either. He was coming here to satisfy himself, and he’d be scoring off her any way he could…subtle little digs in front of his wife, then seeking her out privately, maybe even trying to get into her bed again. He would see that as a triumph over her bid to put him out of her life. And if she didn’t oblige him…Miranda shuddered, every instinct telling her no one frustrated Bobby Hewson and got away with it.
A knock on her door broke into the train of misery. She swiped at her tear-sodden face and looked at her watch. It jolted her to see it was a few minutes past five. The current homestead guests were probably back from their day trips and she hadn’t been on hand to deal with any requests or problems. The knock meant someone was looking for her.
She scrambled off the bed, grabbed some tissues, rubbed her eyes and cheeks, shoved her feet into sandals, finger smoothed her hair back behind her ears. The knock came again as she struggled to calm herself enough to answer it. Probably Val, she thought, wanting to pass some message on before leaving for the day.
She opened the door and shock hit her again.
Nathan!
“Ah! You’re here.” He smiled, his eyes warm with pleasure.
Having steeled herself to face responsibility, Miranda was totally undone by Nathan’s smile. The steel collapsed and her whole body turned to jelly.
“I was looking for you to give you Sarah’s diaries,” he went on, holding out the package he was carrying. “Just as well you are here in your private quarters. Makes it easy to put them in a safe place.”
Somehow she lifted her hands to take the package. Her gaze dropped to it as her mind tried to change gears, adjusting to Nathan’s presence and recalling what she had anticipated…hoped…from it. Except it all felt unreal now, shaky, without substance. She stared down at the diaries—Sarah’s diaries—of a life that was in the past.
“Miranda?”
She heard the query but it seemed to come from a long distance. Her past was all too alive, threatening to mess her up again and she didn’t know when or where that would stop, now that Bobby had access to her.
“Is there something wrong?”
Wrong…the awful sense of wrongness was so twisted up inside her…Nathan here at the wrong time…Bobby coming to do more wrong…another wave of tears swam into her eyes. She shook her head, too choked to say anything.
“You did say you wanted to read them.” The edge in his voice seemed to slice into her heart. “If you’ve changed your mind…”
She swallowed hard, fighting to order her mind to come up with something that might cover her failure to welcome his company. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I’m not…” Her voice was wobbling. She scooped in a quick breath and forced herself on. “This is bad timing. But thank you for…”
Her chin was forcibly tilted up. The swift action halted her erratic little speech. She was startled into looking at him, though the moisture in her eyes blurred her vision, preventing any clear view of his reaction to her all too obvious distress.
“You’ve got a problem. Best you use me to talk it over with, Miranda,” he stated firmly.
Before she could raise a protest or deter him from his purpose, he pushed her door wide-open and was steering her around, his arm hugging her shoulders as he walked her to the closest armchair in her sitting area. He set her down in it, retrieved the diaries from her hold, placed them on the bench that divided off the kitchenette, then closed her door, sealing their privacy.
“Now tell me what’s upset you.”
She shook her head, knowing he had no control over this situation. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Nathan.”
“If it’s resort business, Tommy would want me to help, Miranda,” he asserted strongly.
Hopelessly agitated by his insistence on getting involved, she pushed herself out of the chair to plead for him to leave her. “It’s personal. You can’t help. Please…”
“Try me!”
He stood there, a strong mountain of a man, emitting immovable purpose, and Miranda could feel her own will crumpling under his. She didn’t know what to do, couldn’t see a way of resolving anything. She wasn’t aware of her hands fretting at each other, wasn’t even aware that her tear ducts were betraying her inner distress again.
Then he was coming at her and suddenly she was enveloped in a warm embrace, her head was pressed onto a broad shoulder, and a hand was stroking her hair.
“It’s okay,” he murmured comfortingly. “We’ll sort it out. A problem is always better shared.”
“No, it’s not,” she cried, even as she passively accepted his physical support, inwardly craving more.
“Trust me.” It was more of a command than an appeal. “Sooner or later you’ll have to learn to trust me, Miranda. You might as well start now.”
She wanted to, but the thought of explaining everything was so daunting, her heart cringed from it. And what if he misunderstood her position? He hadn’t lived in Bobby Hewson’s world.
“It’s not good,” she blurted out.
“So what? Who’s perfect?”
Anguish splintered her mind. She could no longer find the point of arguing. “It’s the man I told you about,” she confided in a fearful rush. “Bobby Hewson. He’s coming tomorrow. With his wife. And he knows I’m here. He knows.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TENSION! Being pressed so close to Nathan, Miranda instantly felt it whipping through him, transmitting a stiffening jolt to her shredded nerves. The firm wall of his chest expanded. The hand stroking her hair clenched. The muscular thighs supporting hers tautened to rock-hardness. It seemed for several seconds, he didn’t breathe at all. And neither did she!
Sheer panic threw her mind into chaos. What had she done by spilling that information? He’d wanted to know. He’d asked her to trust him. But words spoken couldn’t be taken back. If he was thinking badly of her again…
A primitive savagery seized Nathan’s mind. I will not let him have her. I will not let him hurt her. He’s a dead man if he so much as touches her! Then some spark of rationality pulled him back from that violent edge and argued that he had to handle this situation with some finesse. Miranda was not his and only God knew what she felt for the scum who didn’t have the decency to leave her alone.
His breath whooshed out, making her scalp tingle with apprehension. The feeling that she was poised on the edge of an abyss with her whole life in the balance made her heart clench with fear. A surge of adrenaline spurred a need to fight for what she wanted. Though she didn’t know how she was going to go about it, she lifted her head, ready to face whatever she had to.
“Right!” he snapped, easing away from her, his hands grasping her upper arms to hold her steady.
She braved meeting his eyes, her own completely dry now, and was stunned by the blue blaze of purpose burning from them.
“So he’s the cause of your stress. What are you expecting him to do and why, Miranda? Spell it out to me. I’ll be able to help you better if I’m aware of all the nuances to this situation.”
Relief! Nathan wasn’t judging. He was going to listen…to help. Dizzy from the wrangle of emotions still seizing her brain, Miranda took a deep breath to feed some oxygen into her bloodstream, and tried to focus her mind on delivering the salient facts.
Her mouth was dry. She worked some moisture into it and started to outline the problem, her eyes begging his understanding. “The Hewson family own the Regent Hotel chain. They’re…they’re very rich, influential. I didn’t want to continue any kind of relationship with Bobby once I heard he was committed to marrying Celine Parmentier. Her family owns the Soleil Levant hotels. The marriage was going to give Bobby more power. He said I could ride up the ladder with him or…”
The bitter disillusionment of that scene rushed in on her again, the terms Bobby had laid out, ringing with the kind of corrupt promises that had taken her mother down a road that had emptied her heart of all love.
“Or?” Nathan prompted.
She sighed away the dark, grievous memory and pushed on with the deal Bobby had pressed, the revulsion she’d felt reflected in her voice. “If I didn’t see sense, I might find my career on shaky ground. If I sought a position elsewhere, a good reference could be withheld.”
Nathan frowned. “But it wasn’t. My mother said your references were excellent.”
“Bobby didn’t expect me to leave. He thought he had me. So he didn’t bother instructing the manager to withhold the truth about my capabilities, or cast any slur on them.”
“So you left without telling him you were going.”
“I told no one about applying for this job or getting it. Once I was notified I had it, I packed up my possessions, handed in my resignation and walked out of the Sydney Regent the same day. To all intents and purposes, I disappeared.”
“Drastic action,” he mused, as though measuring all it meant.
Sensing some criticism of her decisions, and discomforted by it, Miranda broke out of his hold and paced around the two armchairs that faced the television set before turning to confront him again, her hands gesticulating the urgency she’d felt to escape any rebound effect from walking out on Bobby Hewson.
“I wanted a clean break. King’s Eden offered me that. It was out of his reach, not connected to people or places he knew. I thought he couldn’t get at me here or do me any damage by bad-mouthing me because this was outside the normal hotel trade.”
“Get at you?” Nathan picked up sharply, his eyes searing hers with questions.
She flushed, hating the admission she had to make. Her arms instinctively hugged her midriff, holding in the awful vulnerability she felt. “We were together for three years. You don’t just forget all that intimate knowledge, Nathan. And he’ll use it. I know he will.”
The muscles in his face tightened. A wave of disapproval seemed to come at her and it instantly struck a fierce well of resentment. What about him and his two years with Susan? At least she had thought of marriage with Bobby.
“Do you still want him?” he shot at her.
“No!” she flared, throwing out her hands in exasperated denial. “What do you think this is all about? I don’t want anything more to do with him. Can’t you see that?”
“I see how upset you are by his coming, which suggests to me the relationship is not dead for you. If it were dead, he couldn’t get at you, Miranda,” he argued tersely.
“You miss the point,” she fiercely retorted. “It’s not dead for him. And if you think he’s going to leave it alone on my say-so…” She shook her head. “My exit from his life told him I wanted out and he’s ignoring it. He’s deliberately pursuing me, breaking the other plans he’d made the moment he heard where I was. I didn’t invite him.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean you won’t want him when he’s with you again.”
“He’s with his wife!”
“Miranda, you can say no in your mind.” He walked slowly towards her, his eyes boring into hers. “You said it to me. And you can mean it in your mind, bolstering the no with any number of reasons. I’m not questioning that.”
“Then what are you questioning?” she gabbled, feeling the strong male force of him increase as he stepped closer and closer, encompassing her, sending her nerves haywire, stirring all the wild desires she had nursed in the darkness of the nights. It was Nathan she wanted. Not Bobby. And her heart wept that he should think otherwise.
“I think you’re worried about what you’ll feel when he’s here…when you’re faced with him. Feelings aren’t something we can easily govern. What if he draws you into his arms…”
He followed the words with the action, slowly gathering Miranda close to him, but behind the seemingly controlled deliberation in his eyes, she saw the flicker of something that wasn’t controlled at all, and it ignited a wild, wanton recklessness in her. Or perhaps the pressure of his body did, the sexuality that seemed to brood from it and clutch at her.
“When you kissed me back, that morning beside the helicopter…were you missing him, Miranda?”
“No. I wasn’t thinking of anything. I just…”
“Responded to me.”
“Yes.” It was barely a hiss of sound. His head was bending to hers and she wanted him to kiss her now, to completely blot Bobby Hewson out of anything be-tween them.
“Then keep remembering this when he comes, Miranda.” A harshness in his voice now, scraped with raw emotion. “Remember how you feel with me.”
Then he did kiss her, and it was no exploratory dip to measure her response, no trial for any special element in their tasting of each other. It was full-scale plunder, a kiss of such driving, demanding passion, Miranda was instantly consumed by the explosion of need it ignited. The hot fusion of their mouths was not enough, nowhere near enough, though as they greedily fed on every possible sensation they could find and savour…intoxicating themselves with kiss after kiss, their hands followed their own instinctive path.
Impossible to remember afterwards whether she tore at his clothes or he tore at hers. The undressing was jerky, erratic, urgent, frantic, the compulsion to be rid of everything that came between them almost violent—no stopping it—no wish to pause or think or do anything other than revel in the impact of their bodies fully touching, bare flesh meeting bare flesh, the hot exciting friction of skin against skin, his hands skimming, squeezing her soft curves, her fingers raking the taut musculature that seemed to bristle with masculinity.
She remembered thinking he was a magnificent bull of a man and she wanted to be mated with him, wanted it more than anything she’d wanted in her life, to have the strength of him inside her, to feel him moving with her…this man who called so deeply to the woman she was, whatever else either of them were.
He propelled them to the bed, hauled her onto it, took the dominant position over her, and she automatically arched her body to meet his as he sought entry. His eyes connected with hers…a fierce blaze of desire…fiercely returned…both of them throbbed with an urgency that could not brook any denial.
Her whole body quivered with elation as she felt him push forward, sheathing himself with her moist heat, her inner muscles convulsing around him in bliss, the hard fullness of him opening a passage that pulsed with wild anticipation, wanting all he could give her. She wrapped her legs around him, pressing him on, and the plunge that followed was exquisitely fulfilling, so incredibly deep it felt as though he had entered her womb, an eerie, intimate sensation that spread out in concentric circles, totally captivating in its intensity.
From that moment on, Miranda’s whole being was totally focused on the rhythmic ripples set in constant motion by Nathan’s powerful thrusting. She was acutely aware of their strengthening infiltration of every cell of her body, the aching sweetness accompanying their invasion, the sense of their building towards a shattering peak, of pleasure becoming too intense to sustain within the space of her being. A time came when she seemed poised on the edge of it and a cry of anguish broke from her throat.
In the very next instant all the torturous tension exploded into a sunburst of glorious ecstasy, and she was floating in some heavenly space, and the man who had brought her there was sharing it with her, cradling her in a hug that kept them bound together as he rolled to one side, removing his weight, yet still enveloping her in a cocoon of strength, caring, protective, possessive.
Their breathing slowed. The thunder of their heartbeats dropped to a barely discernible pulse. The languor that stole over them was seductive…warm, peaceful, enticing a prolonged stay of judgement on what they’d done. It couldn’t be examined with words. It had gone beyond words.
Miranda was acutely aware she had never experienced anything like this before…such primitive, com-pelling passion…yet somehow instinctively right with this man…and being held by him now felt right, too, as though she belonged with him. While it made no rational sense, her mind stood in awe of these feelings, and the longer he held her, the more immersed she became in the blind conviction that they were meant to come together and this was how a man and woman should feel when they did, and she wished she had always known this. Then she could never have been fooled about what it was supposed to be.
Eventually Nathan spoke. He was trailing strands of her hair through his fingers as she lay with her head on his chest. She felt his intake of breath and the words he said were soft but very, very decisive.
“You don’t need Bobby Hewson, Miranda.”
Bobby? The part of her life he had inhabited felt so minimised she could barely bring it to mind. “No, I don’t,” she answered fervently.
“I’ll be here tomorrow evening to make sure he understands you don’t need him.”
Here? Did Nathan mean in her bed? How would Bobby know—see—the incredible difference of what she felt with Nathan?
“I’ll join you and your party of guests for dinner, but I’ll come earlier,” he said, his voice firm with the plans in his mind.
Miranda struggled past the fuzziness in hers. Nathan meant to be with her publicly, showing Bobby she was not alone, very much not alone!
“In time for the Happy Hour gathering,” Nathan specified.
“Happy Hour!” Miranda jack-knifed out of Nathan’s embrace and looked at her watch. It was almost six o’clock. “I’ve got to get going. I should be out there.” A flush of embarrassment poured into her face as she turned to look squarely at him. “This is my job, Nathan.”
“Duty calls,” he said equably.
She hurtled off the bed and raced into her ensuite bathroom, frantically turning on the taps in the shower, shoving her hair into a plastic cap and stepping under the hot spray before pausing for breath or further thought. Only then did it strike her that Nathan’s mind had been locked on Bobby, before and after, and he hadn’t said anything about what he felt with her.
What if it had only been a male competitive thing with him?
Instantly her whole body revolted against this thought. Nathan had wanted her before he’d ever known about Bobby. It had nothing to do with Bobby. Nothing! He was purely incidental in their coming together.
It came as another jolt to realise they hadn’t used protection. Just as well she was on the pill to keep her cycle regular. And she couldn’t see Nathan being a health risk, having recently been in a long monogamous relationship. All the same, there should have been questions asked.
On the other hand, obviously there had been no pre-meditation by either of them. Which said something about the strength of the attraction between them. The moment Nathan had started kissing her she’d forgotten Bobby, her job, everything. Such a total wipe-out had never happened to her before. Never. It had to mean something special. There was no other explanation for it.
Clean and fresh again, Miranda turned off the taps and quickly towelled herself dry. A nervous energy possessed her as she attended to her hair and make-up. Had Nathan left, having made his arrangements for tomorrow? Did those arrangements mean more than fixing the problem with Bobby?
