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She’d matured. She had a woman’s sensitivity and perception and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Back then she’d been way too young for him, but in the interim the rosebud had opened up velvety perfumed petals.
Brock continued to stare at her, holding her gaze captive. Despite the poise he hadn’t been prepared for, Shelley was flushed with color. Her wild red-gold hair lay loose around her shoulders. Her beautiful eyes were large and lustrous, her mouth sensitive and her chin prettily pointed.
.....
All Brock knew was that sweet little female creatures like Shelley Logan eased a man’s soul. And Lord knew how he thirsted for some area of peace. But romance wasn’t on the agenda for him. Not even a brief affair. Certainly not with the girl he’d watched grow up. He couldn’t plan anything. Not with his future so undecided.
He knew he wouldn’t find peace at Mulgaree. But fronting up to his grandfather was a fierce necessity. Mulgaree was where he had been born, and his mother and his uncle Aaron, Philip’s father, before him. Philip, on the other hand, had been born in a private maternity hospital back in Brisbane, because Frances had been terrified of having her child on an isolated Outback station. Uncle Aaron, who he sort of remembered as kind, had been killed on the station, handling a wild steer, when Philip was just a little boy. The steer had gored him. Aaron had died without uttering a cry.
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