wanted you to have a half-share.’
‘That’s what I don’t understand,’ she said softly. ‘I know I’m his niece, but he looked on you as—as his son.’
‘Angus’s mind was perfectly sound.’ Noah spoke now with quiet resignation. ‘He knew exactly what he was doing, and he must have thought very carefully before changing his will.’
Perhaps it was her tiredness that made Kate angry. She wanted to stamp her feet, to yell at Noah, to urge him to stop being stubborn. How could he give up so easily? He’d worked so hard for Radnor.
Alan coughed discreetly. ‘If you hand your share over to Noah, Kate, there will be even more for Liane to claim.’
‘That’s true,’ said Kate quietly. In other words, she could be of more help to Noah if she retained her share. ‘But if Noah wants to stay on Radnor he must buy Liane out, mustn’t he? That’s what she’ll want, isn’t it—money rather than land?’
Alan pursed his lips. ‘Noah may not have a big enough share of the Radnor asset to raise the necessary money.’
‘Are you saying he’ll still be forced to sell up his share just to settle her claim?’
Kate was horrified. This was ridiculous. Noah had been born at Radnor. It was his home. His life. The very thought of him wandering about the Outback, looking for another job, starting again from scratch, was ludicrous!
Impulsively, she said, ‘We have no choice, then. Noah and I will have to form a partnership.’
Noah stared at Kate as if she’d grown a third ear.
To her eternal shame, she blushed again. ‘I— I m-mean a b-business partnership, of course. Then the partnership could buy Liane’s share. The banks wouldn’t turn down a proposal like that, would they?’
‘That’s generous,’ Noah said quietly. ‘But I won’t accept it.’
‘Hey!’ Alan suddenly turned on Noah. ‘Wake up, man. It’s only a business arrangement. Not marriage.’
Marriage?
Zap! To Kate’s horror her already hot cheeks turned fiery.
Noah’s chair scraped on the wooden floor, and he jumped to his feet. ‘What kind of fool comment is that?’
‘I was joking, of course,’ Alan quickly back-pedalled. He sent Kate a quick wink. ‘That’s how it would have happened in the good old days, of course. A quick, arranged marriage and, hey presto, everyone’s problems are solved.’
Kate was dismayed that Noah’s reaction was getting to her. Why did he have to make it so obvious that he was horrified by Alan’s lighthearted suggestion? She’d got the message nine years ago that he had no romantic interest in her.
To cover the awkwardness, Alan made a business of tidying the papers on his desk, setting them straight inside the folder. ‘You should both take a few days to think about this.’
Noah had moved to the door, one shoulder leaning on the jamb, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. He looked tired, as tired as Kate felt.
‘You’re right,’ he said quietly. ‘We need a few days. You’re jet lagged, Kate. You’re in no condition to be making rash offers. You need to get back to the house and have a good, long sleep. You’ll probably come to your senses in the morning.’
CHAPTER THREE
FROM habit Noah woke just before dawn.
He’d slept soundly, which was a surprise, as he’d been troubled by bad dreams ever since he’d found Angus slumped at his desk, ashen- faced and unconscious.
Now, grey dawn light seeped into his bedroom. Familiar details of the room came to life: the timber-framed window, the roll-top desk in the corner, the faded photo of his parents, the old pine chest of drawers…
Then he remembered.
He was going to lose all of this. He was going to lose his home. Lose Radnor.
He sat up quickly, fighting hot panic—caused not by a nightmare this time but by sickening reality.
With a groan, he threw his bedclothes aside, strode naked to the window and looked out at the flat, treeless landscape spreading endlessly, as far as the eye could see.
A terrible sense of loss flooded him. He was twenty-nine years old and he’d been born here. Not counting the years he’d spent at boarding school, this was the only home he’d ever known. He’d travelled, of course. He’d covered most of Australia and he’d seen prettier places—grander landscapes…richer country…
But a soul-deep love of these sparse, flat plains flowed in his veins. This country might be subject to drought, but its strength lay in its ability to rejuvenate. The rain would come eventually, and tenacity to weather the drought was part of the strength of the people who lived here.
Noah had that strength, that patience. And Angus had known it, damn it. But the old fox had tied up his will so that half of this property went to an English girl who’d been here once, almost a decade ago, for a brief holiday.
Noah jerked his gaze from the view and went through to his small adjoining bathroom.
Any normal guy would harbour resentment, he told himself as he palmed lather onto his jaw. He should be thinking about Kate Brodie with animosity and bitterness.
Not with hot-blooded lust.
He shouldn’t be remembering the last time she’d been here, the way he’d kissed her, and the way she’d responded. Hell, if he hadn’t had Angus’s warning ringing in his head, who knew what might have happened back then?
Angus had started bellowing orders even before Kate had arrived. At the time, it had nearly killed Noah to ignore Kate. He’d been completely smitten by her flashing green eyes, perfect skin and all that shiny red-gold hair. And her smile.
He’d broken down once and given into his need to taste Kate’s smiling lips, to touch her soft, warm, milk-white skin.
One kiss, despite Angus Harrington’s warning…
‘Hands off her, do you hear me? If you lay so much as a finger on my sister’s daughter, I’ll never forgive you, son.’
Son. For as long as Noah could remember, Angus had called him that. He’d been four at the time of his parents’ accident, and could barely remember them. His only memory was based on the photo on his dresser. His father, long-legged and dark, and no doubt smelling of dust and cigarettes, was leaning against the stock rails and grinning at his mother. She had a soft, heart-shaped face and pretty, pale-brown hair. Like Olivia’s.
Olivia. Noah grimaced and picked up the razor. He couldn’t afford to think about Olivia now, on top of everything else. Losing her, losing Radnor. Hell, any minute he’d start bawling.
He began to scrape with the razor, making dark tracks over his jaw through the white foam. But his thoughts winged straight back to Kate Brodie.
She’d
