Argentinian in the Outback. Margaret Way

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tried very hard to please my grandfather,” she offered in a more restrained tone. “I never did succeed—but then my grandfather had the ingrained idea that women are of inferior status.”

      “Surely not!” He thought how his mother and sisters would react to that idea.

      “I’m afraid so. He often said so—and he meant it. Women have no real business sense, much less the ability to be effective in the so-called ‘real’ world. Read for that a man’s world—although a cattle kingdom is a man’s world it’s so tough. Women are best served by devoting their time to making a good marriage—which translates into landing a good catch. Certainly a good deal of time, effort and money went into me.”

      “This has led to bitterness?” He had read much about the ruthless autocratic patriarch Gregory Langdon.

      Ava judged the sincerity of his question. She was aware he was watching her closely. “Do I seem bitter to you?” She turned her sparkling gaze on him.

      “Bitter, no. Unhappy, yes.”

      “Ah … a clarification?” she mocked.

      “You deny it?” He made one of his little gestures. “Your husband is not putting up a fight to keep you?” Such a woman came along once in a lifetime, he thought. For good or bad.

      Ava didn’t answer. They had turned onto a well-trodden track that led along miles of billabongs, creeks and water-holes that had now become deep lagoons surrounded on all sides by wide sandy beaches. The blaze of sunlight worked magic on the waters, turning them into jewel colours. Some glittered a dark emerald, others an amazing sapphire-blue, taking colour from the cloudless sky, and a few glinted pure silver through the framework of the trees.

      “One tends to become unhappy when dealing with a divorce,” Ava answered after a while. “My marriage is over. I will not return to it, no matter what. Dev at least has found great happiness.” She shifted the conversation from her. “He and Amelia are twin souls. You’ll like Amelia. She’s very beautiful and very clever. She holds down quite a highflying job at one of our leading merchant banks. She’ll be a great asset to Langdon Enterprises. Mercifully my grandfather didn’t pass on his mindset to Dev.”

      “Dev is a man of today. He will be familiar with very successful women. But what do you plan to do with yourself after your divorce comes through?”

      She could have cried out with frustration. Instead she spoke with disconcerting coolness. “You are really interested?”

      “Of course.” His tone easily surpassed hers for hauteur.

      She knew she had to answer on the spot. Their eyes were locked. Neither one of them seemed willing to break contact. They could have been on some collision course. “Well, I don’t know as yet, Varo,” she said. “I might be unequal to the huge task Dev has taken on, but I want to contribute in any way I can.”

      “Then of course you will.” A pause. “You will marry again.”

      It wasn’t a question but a statement. “That’s a given, is it? You see it as my only possible course?” she challenged.

      He reached out a long arm and gently touched her delicate shoulder, leaving a searing sense of heat. It was as though his hand had touched her bare skin.

      “Permit me to say you are very much on the defensive, Ava. You know perfectly well I do not.” The sonorous voice had hardened slightly. “Dev will surely offer you a place on the board of your family company?”

      “If I want a place, yes,” she acknowledged.

      He gave her another long, dark probing look. “So you are not really the businesswoman?”

      She shook her head. “I have to admit it, no. But I have a sizeable chunk of equity in Langdon Enterprises. Eventually I will take my place.”

      “You should. There would be something terribly wrong if you didn’t. You want children?”

      She answered that question with one of her own. “Do you?”

      He gave her his fascinating, enigmatic half-smile. “Marriage first, then children. The correct sequence.”

      “Used to be,” she pointed out with more than a touch of irony. “Times have changed, Varo.”

      “Not in my family,” he said, with emphasis. “I do what is expected of me, but I make my own choices.”

      “You have a certain woman in mind?”

      It would be remarkable if he didn’t. She had the certainty this dynamic man had a dozen dazzling women vying for his attention.

      “Not at the moment, no,” he told her with nonchalance. “I enjoy the company of women. I would never be without women in my life.”

      “But no one as yet to arouse passion?” She was amazed she had even asked the question, and aware she was moving into dangerous territory.

      Her enquiring look appeared to him both innocent and seductive at one and the same time. Did she know it? This wasn’t your usual femme fatale. There was something about her that made a man want to protect her. Possibly that was a big mistake. One her husband had made?

      “I don’t think I said that,” he countered after a moment. “Who knows? I may have already succumbed to your undoubted charms, Ava.”

      She raised a white hand to wave a winged insect away—or perhaps to dismiss his remark as utterly frivolous. “It would do you no good, Varo. I’m still a married woman. And I suspect you might be something of a legend back in Argentina.”

      “Perdón—perdonare!” he exclaimed. “Surely you mean as a polo player?” He pinned her gaze.

      Both of them knew she had meant as a lover. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in action at the weekend.” She declined to answer, feeling hot colour in her cheeks. “It should be a thrilling match. We’re all polo-mad out here.”

      “As at home. Polo is the most exciting game in the world.”

      “And possibly the most dangerous,” she tacked on. “Dev has taken a few spectacular spills in his time.”

      He answered with an elegant shrug of one shoulder. “As have I. That is part of it. You are an accomplished rider,” he commented, his eyes on her slender body, sitting so straight but easy in the saddle. Such slenderness lent her a deceptive fragility, contradicted by the firmness with which she handled her spirited bright chestnut mare.

      “I should be.” Ava’s smile became strained as memories flooded in. “My grandfather threw me up on a horse when I was just a little kid—around four. I remember my mother was beside herself with fright. She thought I would be hurt. He took no notice of her. Mercifully I took to riding like a duck to water. A saving grace in the eyes of my grandfather. As a woman, all that was expected of me was to look good and produce more heirs for the continuation of the Devereaux-Langdon dynasty. At least I was judged capable of expanding the numbers, if not the fortune. A man does that. I expect in his own way so does Dev. Every man wants a son to succeed him, and a daughter to love and cherish, to make him proud. I suppose you know my grandfather left me a fortune? I don’t have to spend one day working

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