Outback Fire. Margaret Way
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“My mother’s emeralds, Luke,” she pointed out dryly. “Columbian. Real emeralds are very hard to come by. You don’t know everything.”
He drew a deep steadying breath. “Look, why don’t we put our little range war aside. I didn’t come here for you I came for your father. Because I care about him. Like you he’s given me just about everything but I work very hard to repay him. In fact I break my back.”
“It’s just like I said, Luke,” she continued with the right mix of irony and humour. “You’re hero material. The son Dad always wanted.”
“And therein lies a lifetime of grief.”
“I don’t think it would be excessive to say you stole my birthright.”
“That cuts deep. You know I didn’t steal anything,” he retorted with some passion. “Chance affected our lives.”
“It certainly put paid to any civilised relationship between us,” she said, hiding her sick regrets. “I used to think when I was just a girl the two of you deliberately tried to exclude me.”
As a man he could understand that. “Now you know better.” His expression gentled.
“Maybe I can’t see the light even yet.” Abruptly her tone changed. “Did you fly Dad’s Cessna?”
He responded curtly to the near taunt. “The quickest way to get here.”
“When do you intend flying back?”
“As soon as you’re packed.”
She searched the eyes that blazed out of his tanned skin. “You truly think it’s that urgent? Dad likes to keep hold of us both. He says he’s proud of my success but he’d have been far happier if I’d stayed at home dancing attendance on him. No, don’t shrug it off, Luke. Listen. ‘You’re an heiress. You don’t have to work!’ What he really meant was he wants me to be financially and emotionally dependant on him. I’m not such a fool I don’t know my own father. He’s an important man, much respected, everyone speaks of him with such admiration—the way he reared me single-handedly.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. Dad is first and foremost the big man in a man’s world. He’s lived like that all his life. Athol McFarlane, the cattle baron. The Major. A man among men. He’s always said he never married because of his grief. He could have had any woman he wanted. He didn’t have to marry a one of them, and you know there were a few. Dad didn’t really want to remarry. He might have been having second thoughts about a son but you came along. Ready-made. To make the grand plan complete, you lost your parents.”
He thrust a hand through his hair, the light above him capturing its dark fire. “I don’t appreciate your talking about my parents.”
“Why not?” she flared. “You talk all the time about mine. Anyway I was close to them, Luke. Don’t forget that. Your mother used to call me Princess even if it was a joke.”
“It was no joke,” he told her. “You gave her joy.”
Storm’s green eyes turned deeply reflective. “Some people might think my father was rather cruel. Maybe unknowingly, he’s not the most sensitive of men, but he never for one minute sees a woman as an equal.”
It was perfectly true. Women to the Major were ornaments to be worn on a man’s arm. “That might be, Storm,” he agreed, saddened all at once. “But in his own way he loves you dearly.”
She pressed back in the armchair. “That love has been a bit destructive, wouldn’t you say? I’m also thinking this could be just a stunt to get me home. Since he’s been so inactive Dad sits around making plans. Much as I love him I know he manipulates us both.”
“Agreed. I’m no fool, either.” The muscles along his chiselled jaw bunched. “I can only give you my spin on this. Your father is genuinely ill. Noni agrees with me. God, Storm, I didn’t fly all the way here for a psychological analysis, informed as it may be. You’re bitter and you feel betrayed. Maybe your father is ruthless but in the most benign way.”
“As though there’s any such thing.” She half smiled, a poignant movement of her lovely full mouth.
He had to look away. “If you love your father as much as you say, you’ll come. No one is asking you to bury yourself in the wilds. A few days. Hell, can’t you spare him that?” An image of the Major’s gaunt face filled his mind.
Storm winced at the implication she was pitiless. In truth she felt defeated. Defeated by her love for her father, defeated by the messed up feelings she had for Luke. It seemed to her she had fought the both of them for most of her life.
“All right, you both win.” She rose in one graceful movement, holding his eyes. Eyes that had haunted her every move. “It won’t be easy but I’ll be ready on Sunday. Does that suit?”
“That will be fine,” he said. “You won’t regret it.” He was struggling not to stare at her, but the compulsion to do so was too strong for him. Her green almond eyes were so brilliant they might have had tears in them. “I should go,” he said, keeping a safe distance from her with the pure force of his will.
“Actually Stephanie is determined you stay. You could be the toast of the evening if you wanted to.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous,” he answered shortly, hostility flickering back and forth between them.
“That’s a good thing about you, Luke. You have no vanity.”
“Go on, anything else?” She had begun to walk to the door, now he followed her up.
“Surely Carla tells you how wonderful you are?” She swept about unexpectedly the sarcastic comment dying on her lips when she found him so close. Their bodies were only inches apart. Taller than average, Storm always felt at such a disadvantage with Luke towering over her. The physical shock of those blue, blue, eyes. That rich red hair! My God! It was like a detonator going off. Her heart quickened and she felt this great surge of what could only be excitement. This was a man. She felt his sexuality in every cell of her body.
“I wonder what would happen if we were cast up together on a desert island?” He gave her a mere shadow of his illuminating smile. Yet it drugged her. “No Major. No Winding River?”
“No past,” she added as her defence mechanism kicked in. “We can’t escape it.”
His expression that had created such an erotic disturbance in her changed. “I’ll go.” Their relationship had not developed as other relationships did. He would be a fool to think anything could change. “Would you thank Mrs. Drysdale for her kind invitation but explain now you’re coming back with me I have more things to attend to.”
Incredibly she felt keen disappointment. “Don’t let me put you off. Sara may be getting married tomorrow but I think she’s reliving the intoxication of her holidays on the station. And you didn’t even kiss her. Or did you?”
He dipped his dark red head. “I have to say I don’t remember. There are so many girls I’ve kissed.”
“I know,” she answered. “You’re notorious for getting women to fall in love with you.”