Kinross studied his sister rather stonily for a moment then said with slight indignance. “We’re doing fairly well. Anything can happen in the second half.” He switched his glance to Rebecca, dressed like Fee in a silk shirt and narrow cut linen pants only her outfit was pristine white whereas Fee was a kaleidoscope of colours and patterns with a lot of glitter he didn’t find attractive. “You’re loving it aren’t you, Rebecca.” He smiled at her, a remarkably handsome, mature man.
“I’m a little worried for you, Stewart,” Rebecca admitted truthfully. “It’s a dangerous game.”
As a response it was a disaster. “I like to think I keep up, my dear,” he answered, looking a bit huffed.
“Oh, Stewart, you do know what I mean,” Rebecca protested softly.
He looked deep into her eyes seeing God knows what. “That’s fine then, my dear. It’s Brod who’s putting himself at risk. Maybe you could tell him to his face.” He looked back towards the field. “Though I must have done something right…I taught him all he knows. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. Ah well.” He glanced back to smile at Rebecca. “I must be off. Time’s up.”
Rebecca realised she shouldn’t say, “Take care.” Instead she gave a little encouraging wave while Fee, enjoying every moment, bit back a laugh. “Darling, were you really suggesting Stewie is over the hill?”
A soft little cushion was to hand. Rebecca used it.
“Hey, hey.” Fee leaned forward and caught it. “Stewie doesn’t like to think he’s settling into the twilight zone. For that matter neither do I.”
In the end Brod’s team won and Rebecca watched as a tall, good-looking blonde in skin-tight jeans and a blue T-shirt that showed off her shapely breasts, went up to him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with much relish.
“Liz Carrol,” Fee said with a grin. “She likes him. Can’t you tell? Then again, why hide it?”
“Is she his girlfriend?” Rebecca found herself asking, though she hadn’t intended to.
“What do you think? Brod sees a few others but most of the time he’s just too darned busy. He’s got a big job—for life. When he picks a wife he’d better pick well.”
Eventually it was Rebecca’s turn to congratulate the winning team, standing before the captain wondering why she felt so terribly perturbed by a pair of brilliant blue eyes. Had anyone ever looked at her like that? What kind of look was it? Whatever it was it acted like a magnet.
“Fee told me you were a little anxious at the action,” he said leaning back against a rail, looking down at her. Oh, yes, she was beautiful.
Rebecca nodded unapologetically. “Today was my first experience of polo. I have to admit some of it scared me. I thought Stewart would be thrown from his horse at one stage during the first half.”
“You were concerned.”
She stared up at him, revealing nothing. “Why not?”
He shrugged and flung an arm up to rest on the rail. “He’s been thrown before and survived. We all have. I’m curious to know, what do you think of my father?”
“I’m sure I’m not supposed to say I hate him,” she said coolly. “I think he’s many things. As are you.”
“Include yourself in that, Miss Hunt,” he answered sardonically, studying the way her dark satiny hair curved around her face. What did she do? Polish it with a silk scarf? “Even Fee knows remarkably little about you.”
“Have you asked?” she challenged, her rain coloured eyes widening.
“Indeed I have.”
“I can’t imagine why you’d be interested in me.”
Yet she bit her lovely full lower lip. “I’m sure you have many a dramatic revelation to divulge,” he drawled. “I’m just blunt enough to point out you’re turning my father’s head. It’s not often I see him take such glowing pleasure in a young woman’s company.”
“I think you’re exaggerating.” Perhaps she, too, would have made an actress.
He laughed. “Then why is that magnolia skin stained with colour?”
“It could be your lack of discretion,” she countered.
“Actually I’m trying to be frank. You’ve only been on Kimbara a short time yet you’ve made a considerable impact on my father and Fee.”
“Obviously not you.” She was still managing to speak with perfect calm even if she couldn’t control the fire in her blood.
A taut smile crossed his striking face. “I’m not as susceptible as Dad or as trusting as Fee.”
“Goodness you ought to set yourself up in the detective business.” She kept her voice low in case anyone was watching. They were.
“Come on, all I’m suggesting is you tell me a little more about yourself.”
“You won’t find my face in a rogue’s gallery if that’s what you’re thinking.” She stared back at him.
“How about an art gallery?” he suggested. “Your style of looks is incredibly romantic. In fact they ought to name a flower after you.”
“No artist has offered to paint me so far,” she told him. “What exactly is it you suspect me of, Mr. Kinross?”
Her face was still flushed, her eyes as lustrous as silver. “You’re angry with me and quite rightly.” He dropped his hand off the rail and stood straight. Another foot and their bodies would be brushing.
“I think so.”
“But from where I’m standing I think you might be trying to steal my father’s heart.”
She felt so affronted she tossed her silky mane in the air. “Part of it might be because you’re screwed up.”
He stared back at her for a moment then threw back his handsome head and gave a genuine peal of laughter. A warm seductive sound. “I’m not hearing this,” he groaned. “You think I’m screwed up.”
“It must be a very heavy load to carry,” she said without sympathy.
He laughed again, white teeth dazzling against dark copper skin. “Actually you might be right.”
“We’ve all got our hang-ups to disengage,” she pointed out with clinical cool.
“I can hardly wait to hears yours.”
“You’re not going to hear them, Mr. Kinross.”
“Pleez,” he mocked. “If we’re going to have these conversations you’d better call me Brod.”
It was a mystery to her she was keeping her cool. “Thank you for that. I’d love it if you called me Rebecca. All I’m asking, Brod, is you give me the benefit of the doubt before starting to label me ‘adventuress.’ From
