“Too expensive. A group of us stayed three days in the tented cabins at Granny Gorge.”
Tented cabins, camping sites, bungalows and homestead suites—four levels of accommodation to be managed, Miranda reminded herself—a far cry from a five-star hotel. Was she mad to take it on…two years in the wilderness?
“Did you think it was worth the trip?” she asked the hostess.
“Oh, yes! Well worth it! I’ve never seen so many butterflies. The trees around there were filled with them. And we swam in a gorgeous turquoise water-hole fed by waterfalls off the cliffs. Great way to have a shower.”
“So you’d definitely recommend it.”
“To anyone,” the hostess confirmed. “Don’t miss the Aboriginal carvings in the caves if you go to the Gorge.”
“I won’t. Thank you.”
Well, King’s Eden had appealed to at least one person, Miranda noted as the hostess moved off. Its only appeal to her at the present moment, was the chance it offered to live her life on her own terms.
If she’d stayed with the Regency hotel chain, she might have moved from assistant manager in Sydney to an overseas posting, an ambition she’d once nursed, but it would have only happened now if she’d also stayed sweet with Bobby. He’d made that clear, offering steps up the managerial ladder as a persuader to win her compliance with his marriage, which, he’d argued, was only for the purpose of cementing an alliance between two great international hotel chains.
Another lie!
The photograph of his French fiancée in the newspaper was more than enough proof to Miranda that Bobby would find his honeymoon no hardship at all.
He’d obviously been lying to her all along—three years of lies. The only thing she’d ended up believing was his threat to stop her getting a decent position anywhere else if she walked out on him. It was sickeningly clear he’d do and say anything to get his own way.
King’s Eden offered her the perfect escape from that kind of victimisation. It was a one-off resort complex, not linked to anything or anyone that Bobby Hewson could touch or influence.
She smiled grimly as she recalled one of the questions Elizabeth King had asked at the interview.
“You are…unattached?”
Detached, Miranda had almost answered, barely swallowing her bitterness over Bobby’s sleazy propositions and manipulations. “I am completely free, Mrs King,” she had stated. “My life is very much my own.”
And that was how it was going to be at King’s Eden, Miranda vowed. Her own life run by herself. She didn’t care how different the environment was, what problems she’d have to cope with. Her strong sense of self-worth demanded she make good on her own abilities…not by being a playboy’s mistress!
She opened the book on her lap, determined on focusing her mind on the future. A map on the first page showed the Kimberly region—three hundred and twenty thousand square kilometres, stretching from the seaport of Broome on the high west coast of Australia to the border of the Northern Territory. Blocked out in green was King’s Eden—a big chunk of outback country that would be the last place on earth Bobby Hewson would look for her.
It might not be the Garden of Eden, but at least it had no serpent in it. With that blessed assurance in her mind, Miranda turned the page and began reading, acutely aware of having turned a page in her life and there was only one way to go…forward.
CHAPTER TWO
“JUST tell me one thing, Mother. Why choose a woman?”
Because you need one.
And with Susan Butler finally out of your life, you might look for more than a convenient mistress.
Elizabeth King hid these thoughts as she assessed the depth of her eldest son’s annoyance at the decision she’d made. The irritable note in his voice and the V creased between his brows, plus the tense impatience of his actions since he’d entered the sitting-room, did not promise an encouraging start between Nathan and Miranda Wade, whom he was about to meet.
Running the resort was part of Tommy’s business. Running the cattle station was his, and he drew a firm line between the two enterprises. For the most part, Nathan kept his world to himself, but to Elizabeth’s mind, that had to change.
He was thirty-five years old. Time for him to get married. Time for him to have children. Passing that particular buck to his younger brothers wouldn’t wash. It was Nathan who had inherited the major share of Lachlan’s genes and Elizabeth didn’t want to see them wasted.
“I chose the person with the best qualifications to manage the resort,” she answered, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the man who was so very much his father’s son. “I wasn’t aware you held any prejudice against women taking on responsible positions, Nathan.”
He threw her a mocking look from the leather armchair he’d made his, since it was the only one big enough to accommodate his length and breadth comfortably. “Not even you could stick it out here all year around.”
That old argument wouldn’t wash, either. “I had other interests to look after, as you very well know.”
His eyes remained sceptical. “The point is, we all agreed a married couple was the best choice.”
“Fine, if the marriage is stable,” Elizabeth retorted, a pointed reminder that the last manager had left under threat of divorce by his wife. “And who is to judge how good a relationship is, on an interview where everyone puts their best foot forward? We’ve been down that track.”
“Then I would have thought a single man would cope with the location better than a single woman,” he argued.
Elizabeth shrugged. “I wasn’t impressed with the men who applied. A bit too soft for my liking.”
“So what have we got? A woman of steel?” His mouth thinned. “She’d better be, because I will not be at her beck and call to clean up any mess she makes of it. If she needs someone to hold her hand, Tommy can do it.”
“I’m sure you can make that clear to her, Nathan.” Elizabeth could not repress a satisfied little smile as she added, “If you wish to.”
Nathan’s black eyebrows beetled down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I doubt Miranda Wade would be inclined to cling to any man’s hand.” And that, my son, may well set a sexual challenge you’ll find hard to resist.
“Just what we need—a raging feminist to play charming hostess to the resort guests who expect to be pampered,” he commented derisively.
“Oh, I think someone who’s been in the hospitality trade for twelve years knows how to manage guests,” Elizabeth drawled. “But judge for yourself, Nathan. That sounds like Tommy’s vehicle arriving now. I trust you’ll make an effort to be welcoming.”
He rolled his eyes and muttered, “I’m sure Tommy will be in good form. He’ll undoubtedly cover any lapse on my part.”
True, Elizabeth
