‘I don’t lie.’ When she said nothing he added in a coolly dispassionate tone, ‘When Ian drew it up he must have had his mind somewhere else.’
Colour flicked her skin, but she met his hard scrutiny with desperate composure. Her lack of sleep was showing; she couldn’t process what he was telling her. ‘If that’s true—and I’m not accepting it until my lawyer tells me so—what do you plan to do about it?’
His lashes drooped. ‘That depends on how co-operative you are,’ he drawled.
Assailed by a violent mixture of need and disdain, she sent him a fiery stare.
‘What a commonplace mind you’ve got,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You’re quite safe. I’ve never had to blackmail a woman into my bed, and I don’t plan to start with you.’
‘Well, that’s a relief.’ She hoped the scorn in her voice hid her sudden humiliating disappointment.
His eyes gleamed. ‘I wonder if you’d allow yourself to be blackmailed.’
Goaded, she snapped, ‘As you’ve just told me you won’t do it, the question is irrelevant.’
He gave her a grin that sizzled through her like honey into pancakes. ‘And you’ve just told me you don’t know which way you’d jump.’ His amusement died and he was all business. ‘I came to tell you that a business call to Japan will probably take most of this afternoon, so the trip to the beach is off. Also, we’ll be going to Auckland at the end of this week.’
‘We?’
‘You and me both.’
How could she dislike him intensely, yet be violently attracted to him at the same time? Automatically she said, ‘I can’t just up and leave the farm.’
‘I’ll send up someone from the station to take care of things.’
Her chin tilted. ‘It takes more than a written list of instructions—’
‘He can start tomorrow. I’m sure that in three days you can teach him enough to keep the place going.’
Suspicion stirred inside her. She frowned at Laddie, who sat back and regarded her with intelligent interest. ‘Why?’
‘Why do I want you to go to Auckland? Because it makes the whole scenario much more likely.’
What about Anna Lee? Peta almost blurted the words out, but another glance at Curt’s hard, handsome face stopped them before they could escape.
Instead, she evaded the issue. ‘I can cope with any social occasion here, but unless you plan to stash me in some motel and ignore me, I haven’t got the right clothes to carry off a masquerade in Auckland. And I won’t accept them from you.’
When he smiled her heart leapt into her throat. That smile had probably charmed the clothes off more women—worldly women, sophisticated and confident—than she’d reared calves. Its blatant charisma was doing an excellent job of scrambling her brain and melting her willpower and softening her heart, and the fact that he knew exactly what effect it was having on her didn’t lessen its impact one bit.
But there was nothing humorous in his tone when he told her, ‘You’ll accept whatever I decide you need.’
Stubbornly she persisted, ‘And even if I did have the right clothes, I don’t have the right attitude.’
‘I don’t plan to hide you away,’ he said easily, ‘and you have exactly the right attitude. As for clothes—that’s easily enough fixed.’
Peta stopped and glared at him. ‘I told you, I’m not going to accept anything from you.’
‘What a sweetly old-fashioned view,’ he drawled.
‘It might be, but it’s non-negotiable.’
‘All right, we’ll hire them,’ he said with insulting negligence. ‘I’ll want you to attend a gala evening with me, and neither jeans and a T-shirt nor the fetching outfit you wore to Gillian’s barbecue will do the trick. And that is non-negotiable, you prickly little wildcat.’
Little? Undecided whether to be furious or charmed, she set off for the house. He hadn’t threatened her openly, but if the contract to rear calves for his dairy operation wouldn’t stand up in court Curt could pull the plug on her any time.
He had her exactly where he wanted her—on toast. Helped, of course, by the wistful part of her that would like to go to Auckland, to be with him, to hear him talk and make him laugh…
Taking her silence for assent, he said, ‘I’ll send a helicopter to pick you up on Friday morning. A farmhand will d be here at three this afternoon when you come back from your stint manning the petrol pumps.’
Peta saw salvation. ‘I forgot—there’s no way I can come. I work at the service station over the weekend.’
‘He’s already found someone to take your place.’
Outraged, she hid a thread of panicky fear with aggression. ‘What did you do—threaten Sandy with the loss of the station account?’
‘I didn’t have to. No one is indispensable. Of course I’ll reimburse you for the loss of your wages.’ He waited while she digested this and then finished in a level voice that warned her she’d reached some uncrossable barrier, ‘If it makes you feel better, think of yourself as someone on my payroll.’
‘Technically, I suppose I already am.’ Nevertheless, she felt sleazy and oddly compromised as she finished shortly, ‘All right.’
‘Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
By then they’d reached the gravel turning area outside her house. Peta gazed resentfully at the Range Rover and asked, ‘Tomorrow? Why?’
He opened the vehicle door and surveyed her with cool intimidation. ‘Because I’m supposed to want to.’ The cynical note in his voice deepened. ‘I’m intrigued by you, remember? Fascinated, in fact; so much so that I can’t wait to get you into bed.’
Reaching for her, he pulled her into his arms and bent to kiss her startled gasp from her lips.
It didn’t last long, that kiss, but it did a complete demolition job on the few remaining shreds of her composure. When he stepped back she was awash with dizzying and highly suspect pleasure, her mouth slightly parted, lashes drooping over sultry eyes.
The sound of a vehicle coming up the drive scarcely impinged until it stopped a few feet behind the Rover. She turned a dazed, flushed face towards it, barely able to focus on the sign on the door of the utility.
‘Tanekaha Station’, she read, and the man looking out from it was Ian.
So Curt must have recognised the engine and kissed her to make a point.
Acutely aware that Curt’s hand had come to rest on her shoulder, she tried to produce a smile. Her effort was wasted; Ian wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed on Curt’s face, and instead of his usual expression there was a set weariness in the blunt
