Читать книгу By Request Collection 1 - Jackie Braun - Страница 49

SHE didn’t encounter any snakes or frogs on the way to dinner. In fact, Bella came to meet her as she opened her door and escorted her.

‘You are a lovely dog,’ she said to Bella as they arrived, then, ‘Wow—this looks amazing!’

Oil lamps hung from the rafters, shedding soft light. The table was set with colourful, linen place mats, pewter and crystal, and a bowl of swamp lilies. There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, and there was the tantalizing smell of roast beef in the air.

Brett had obviously showered too; his hair was damp and spiky and he’d changed into khaki trousers and a checked shirt. He looked devastatingly attractive, Holly thought privately.

‘Champagne?’ he invited, lifting the bottle by its neck and starting to ease the foil off.

‘Yes, please.’ Holly looked around. ‘I must say this is amazingly civilized for beyond the black stump.’

‘We do our best. Champagne, Sarah?’ he called.

‘No, thanks,’ Sarah called back. ‘I’m in the midst of dishing up; I’ll have one later.’

‘Has it always been like this—Haywire?’ Holly asked, and lifted her glass in a response to Brett’s silent toast.

‘More or less,’ he replied and shrugged. ‘Ever since I can remember, although the cabins have been renovated and more mod cons put in. But I never wanted to change this.’ He gestured comprehensively.

‘I’m so glad; it’s magic,’ Holly said enthusiastically.

Not a great deal later Holly said to Sarah, ‘That was fantastic,’ as she put her knife and fork together and pushed her plate away. ‘Not only roast beef but Yorkshire pudding.’

‘I am a Yorkshire lass,’ Sarah revealed as she stood up and began clearing plates. ‘There’s fruit and cheese to come, and coffee.’

‘Please, let me help,’ Holly offered.

‘No way! I am being paid to do this. You and Brett relax,’ Sarah ordered.

Holly breathed a little frustratedly. She didn’t really want to be left alone with Brett—well, she did and she didn’t, she decided. But she felt tense about it; she felt jittery.

On the other hand, she didn’t want to force herself on Sarah in the kitchen. Some cooks hated having their space invaded with offers of help.

She got up, but stood undecided beside her chair, and it seemed to show in her face.

She saw Brett watching her rather narrowly and wondered what he was thinking. Then she realized, as his dark gaze flicked up and down her figure, that he was thinking of her in a particular context—the awareness that continued to spring up between them—and she felt herself colour; she turned away, biting her lip.

He was the one who solved the problem. He said, ‘I’ve got a few things to do, a few calls to make. Why don’t you look through the albums? It might give you more background material.’

She turned back. ‘Albums?’

He indicated the library area and some thick albums arranged on a teak table. A comfortable armchair stood beside the table and a lamp above it shed light.

‘There are photos going way back; there are visitors’ comments and press cuttings.’

‘Oh, thank you! I will,’ she said eagerly, but didn’t miss the ironic little glance he cast her. In fact, it caused her to bridle as she stared back.

But he only shrugged and drew her attention to a drawer in the table that contained pens and paper, if she wanted to make notes.

‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly. Feeling foolish, which didn’t sit well with her, she waved her hands and recommended that he go away and leave her alone.

‘By all means, Miss Harding,’ he said with soft sarcasm. ‘By all means.’

Holly ground her teeth.

An hour later she looked up as he came back into the library area, then put her pen down and stretched.

‘Finished?’ he enquired.

‘No. They’re fascinating—I could go on for hours, but I won’t. Thanks very much.’ She closed the album she’d been working on and stood up. ‘I think bed might be a good idea. I seem to have done an awful lot today,’ she said with evident humour.

‘I’ll walk you to your cabin,’ he murmured.

‘I can walk myself.’ But she paused, feeling recalcitrant and juvenile. What could happen between here and her cabin? ‘OK. Thanks.’

They called goodnight to Sarah, who was watching a DVD, and set off. In the event, there were no snakes, but there was a flying fox. As Brett opened her cabin door and reached in to switch on the light, it swooped down on Holly.

It startled her so much she dropped her torch, gave a yelp and with an almighty shudder sought refuge in Brett’s arms.

The creature flew into the cabin, then straight out again.

‘It’s only a flying fox,’ he said, holding her close, though, and flipping off the light. ‘It was the light.’

‘Only a flying fox!’ she repeated incredulously. ‘Aren’t they responsible for the Lyssa virus or the Hendra virus—or both?’

‘It didn’t actually touch you, Holly.’ He passed a hand over her hair then closed the cabin door.

She shuddered again. ‘Can you imagine it getting caught in my hair? Yuck!’

‘Some people love them.’

‘Not in their hair, I bet they don’t. Look, I’m not keen on them; snakes, spiders, rats and frogs I can manage to stay sane about—flying foxes, not!’

He laughed down at her then bent his head to kiss her.

Holly was taken completely by surprise, but it felt so good, she was immediately riveted and all her fears seemed to melt away.

Then some common sense prevailed and she drew away a little.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ she whispered.

‘We’ve been wanting to do it all day,’ he countered.

‘I…’ She swallowed. ‘The thing is, I’m here to do a job and I really need to concentrate on that. So.’ She managed to look up at him humorously. ‘Thanks for being here, otherwise I could have really freaked out! But now I’ll say goodnight.’

He released her promptly, although with a crooked little smile. ‘All right. Don’t switch the light on until you’re closed in.’ He turned away and left her.

Holly closed herself into the cabin and stood in the dark for a long moment with her hand to her mouth.

The next morning, after breakfast, he had a surprise for her.

She’d greeted him cautiously, but he’d been casual and friendly and they’d eaten breakfast companionably.

Then he recommended that she bring a hat and sunscreen, along with her camera, and meet him at the holding-paddock gate.

When she got there, there were two saddled horses tied to the fence.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t rustle up a camel or a donkey.’

Holly groaned. ‘Thank heavens! But I have to tell you that, although I have ridden horses before, I’m not much of a rider—I usually get led.’

‘No problem.’ He produced a long rein out of his saddle bag and attached it to one of the horses’ bridles. ‘Up you get.’ He put his hands around her waist and lifted her into the saddle.

‘Where are we going?’

He mounted his horse with ease and clicked his tongue. As they set off, he said, ‘We’re putting in a new dam; I want to see the progress. It’s a pleasant ride.’

‘You’re not going to gallop or do anything that’ll contribute to me falling off?’ she queried as she clutched her reins and tried to adjust herself to the motion as they broke into a trot.

‘Nope. Just relax. Are you always this nervous when you’re on a job?’

‘Often with good cause, believe me,’ she said a shade tartly. ‘I’ve even been known to get off and walk, but I do always get there in the end.’

Brett Wyndham grimaced.

‘What?’ she asked with conspicuous hauteur.

He laughed softly. ‘I believe you. You’re a stubborn one, Holly Golightly; that I don’t doubt. OK. Let’s see if we can enjoy this ride.’

An hour later they reached the dam sight, and to Holly’s surprise she had enjoyed the ride. They’d stopped a couple of times, once on a rocky crest that had afforded them a sweeping view of the countryside, and once beside a salt lick.

Both times she’d dismounted and asked a lot of questions. By the time they reached the dam, she was confident enough of her horse not to need the leading rein, and she was genuinely charmed when Brett lit a small fire and boiled the billy he had in his saddle bag. She reached into hers as instructed and withdrew some damper Sarah had baked to go with their tea.

‘A real bush picnic,’ she enthused as she sat on a rock and fanned herself with her hat. ‘Oh—I can see a bulldozer over there. And a camp—but not a soul in sight!’

‘Yes.’ Brett squatted beside the fire and put a few more sticks on it. ‘They usually work two weeks on, one week off. I wanted to check it all out on their off-week. Ready for your tea?’ He poured boiling water onto a teabag in an enamel mug and handed it to her.

‘Mmm…I’m looking forward to this. Thank you. But I don’t see any cattle.’

‘We rotate paddocks; this one’s resting.’

‘I see. How long…?’

But he interrupted her to give her all the information she was about to ask for about the paddocks, and more besides.

Holly had to laugh, although a little self-consciously, when he’d finished. ‘Sorry, I’m asking too many questions, but it is interesting.’

He sent her a thoughtful look. She seemed to be completely unfazed by the heat and the flies; she seemed quite unaware that she had a dirty smudge on her face, or that her hands were grimy, that her hair was plastered to her head or that her shirt was streaked with sweat.

‘You’d make a good countrywoman,’ he said at last.

Holly tried the damper and pronounced it delicious. ‘I’m insatiably curious,’ she said. ‘That’s my problem.’

He looked thoughtful, but he didn’t comment. When they’d finished their tea, he put the fire out carefully, they mounted again and went to explore the dam workings.

Two hours later they cantered back into the holding paddock and Brett suggested a swim in the pool.

‘Sounds heavenly,’ Holly said in a heartfelt way, and went to change into her togs. She was on her way to the pool when it occurred to her that Sarah wasn’t around, and that she hadn’t been quite her cheerful self at breakfast. She hesitated then went to knock on her cabin door.

Sarah opened it eventually and was full of apologies. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll get stuck into lunch—I’ve just got a touch of sinus, but I’ve taken something. Makes me feel a bit sleepy, though.’

Holly studied the other girl’s pale face and the dark rings under her eyes. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘You go back to bed. I can handle lunch!’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Sarah replied, but her gaze fastened on something over Holly’s shoulder. Holly turned round to see that Brett was standing behind her. Before Sarah got a chance to say anything, she explained the situation to him and finished by saying, ‘I could make lunch easily.’

‘Done,’ Brett said with authority. ‘You do as you’re told, Sarah.’

‘I should be better in time to make dinner,’ Sarah said anxiously.

‘We’ll see about that,’ her boss replied, and reached out to rumple Sarah’s hair. ‘Take it easy,’ he advised her.

Sarah sighed and looked relieved.

In the event Holly made both lunch and dinner. They had a swim in the pool before lunch, then Brett poured them a gin and tonic each—a fitting aperitif for the middle of a hot day, he told her—while she made open cold roast beef sandwiches with hot English mustard and salad.

They took their drinks and lunch to a table beside the pool beneath a shady tree.

Holly had put her peasant blouse on over her togs but Brett had added nothing to his board shorts. Bella lay beside them, gently indicating that she’d be happy to clean up any scraps. The bush beyond the fence was shimmering in the heat and vibrating with insect life.

‘How do you manage to leave this place so often?’ Holly asked.

‘Don’t kid yourself,’ Brett responded. ‘You can feel isolated up here.’

‘But you can drive out, can’t you?’

‘Sure, but it’s a long way on a rough road.’

Holly sipped her drink. ‘Do your sister and brother like it up here?’

‘From time to time, but they don’t really have cattle in their blood. Neither does Aria. She doesn’t really enjoy roughing it.’ He grimaced then elaborated. ‘She’s the girl Mark’s marrying.’

‘What’s she like?’

Brett considered and gave Bella the last bit of his sandwich. ‘Very beautiful. She has long blonde hair, a striking figure. She and Natasha make a good pair, come to think of it, although Nat’s a redhead.’ He paused. ‘My ex-fiancée.’

Holly’s mind fled back to the dinner party she’d witnessed at Palm Cove. Unless there were two stunning redheads in his life, had the one she’d seen been his ex-fiancée? If so, did that mean they were still friends?

‘No curiosity on that subject, Miss Harding?’ he queried, a shade dryly.

Holly shrugged and looked away. ‘I’m sure it’s out of bounds, and besides, its none of my business.’

‘True.’ He looked reflective. ‘Anyway, Aria is a biochemist and actually very nice, although something of a meddler.’ He looked briefly heavenwards. ‘But since Mark’s a computer genius they have similar lifestyles in common.’

Holly looked around. ‘So all this falls to you? I mean all the responsibility, the planning and so on.’

‘Yes.’ He sat back and crossed his hands behind his head.

‘It must be quite a handful, combining it with your other work.’

‘More or less what I’ve been thinking for a while now,’ he agreed with a wry little smile. He sobered. ‘But it’s in my blood. Just as you inherited your father’s writing gene, I must have inherited my f—’ He stopped abruptly.

Holly waited but found she was holding her breath.

‘Much as I don’t care to admit it,’ he said finally, ‘I must have inherited my father’s gene for cattle and the land.’

Holly released her breath slowly. Although the thought chased through her mind that she’d been right—there had been something between Brett and his father—she was mindful of his warning about going into things he didn’t want go into.

‘So it’s something you really love,’ she said instead. ‘I can understand that.’

He looked at her penetratingly. ‘You can?’

‘I think so. It’s probably unfair to say there are more challenges out here than in suburban life, but to me anyway these open spaces are not only exciting—’ she looked up at the wide arc of blue, blue sky above ‘—they’re liberating. I guess that’s what motivated my father and may have come down to me.’

‘You really mean that, don’t you?’ He sat up.

Holly nodded, then grimaced. ‘Probably easy enough to say. So. What’s on this afternoon?’

He eyed her, sitting so relaxed in her chair in her peasant blouse with its pretty embroidery, her legs long and bare and her hair curling madly.

What’s on this afternoon? he repeated to himself. What would you say, Miss Harding, if I told you I’d very much like to take you to bed? I’d love to strip your togs from your body and explore those slender lines and delicate curves. I’d like to touch you and make those pink lips part in surprise and pleasure, those blue eyes widen in wonder…

It was a disturbance over the fence in the holding paddock that drew his attention away from Holly—saved by the bell, he thought dryly. He saw that his foreman, Kane, had arrived back from the fencing trip with his two offsiders.

But as his gaze came back to Holly, he saw that she was staring at him with her lips parted, her eyes wide—all in some perplexity.

His lips twisted. ‘Why don’t you relax? I’ve got some things to discuss with Kane. I may take him back to the dam to show him what I want done, so I could be tied up all afternoon.’

‘Uh, all right,’ Holly responded after a moment. ‘I can do some work anyway.’ She hesitated. ‘If Sarah’s still not well would you like me to cook dinner?’

‘Thanks.’ He stood up. ‘That would be great.’

Holly withdrew her gaze from the physical splendour of Brett Wyndham in his board shorts. ‘Um, do I cook for Kane and the others?’

‘No. They’ll cater for themselves in their quarters. See you later.’ And he walked away.

Holly cleared up their lunch and retreated to her cabin, where she admitted to herself that she was somewhat bothered and bewildered. Or bewitched.

She lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling like a star-struck teenager, she admitted as she pulled a pillow into her arms. So, what to do about it?

No answer presented itself and she fell asleep.

It was starting to cool down when she re-emerged, showered and once again changed in her blouse and jeans.

She checked on Sarah first and took her a pot of tea and a snack—all she wanted. She persuaded her to stay where she was, assuring her she was quite able to handle dinner.

A couple of hours later, with the oil lamps lit and the table set attractively again, Brett put down his knife and fork and said, ‘You can cook. Another gene from your father?’

Holly’s face dimpled into a smile as she glanced at the remains of the golden-brown lasagne she’d prepared, along with a fresh green salad and some warm rolls. ‘No. The cooking gene comes from my mother, in case you thought I was all my father’s doing.’

Brett lay back in his chair and studied her. He had also showered and had changed into a clean khaki shirt and beige chinos. ‘What does come to mind…’ He twirled his wine glass. ‘Is the fact that you’d make someone a really handy wife.’

Holly looked put out, although there was glint of laughter in her eyes. ‘That’s not exactly a compliment, Mr Wyndham,’ she said gravely.

‘Sorry,’ He grimaced. ‘As well as a very attractive wife, of course.’

‘That’s a bit better!’ Holly approved. ‘But I don’t think I’d make a good wife, actually.’

‘Why not?’

She gathered their plates. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She shrugged and stood up.

He rose too and told her to sit down. ‘I’ll do this.’

Holly sank back and watched him clear the table. He came back and topped up their wine glasses. ‘Why not?’ he asked again.

She looked at him and looked away. She stroked Bella’s head. Somehow the dog must have gauged her inner distress with the subject, because Bella had risen and put her head on Holly’s lap. Despite her inner distress, there was something else, something new. For the first time she wanted to explain why she was the way she was.

It was to do with this man, she thought. Because he moved her, whether she liked it or not…

She took a deep breath. ‘A couple of years ago I fell madly in love,’ she said quietly. ‘What I didn’t know was that he was a married man. And I only got to know it when his wife started stalking me.’

Brett stopped with his wine glass poised in his hand, then he slowly put it down. ‘I’m sorry. Seriously stalking you?’

‘I thought so. She wrote threatening letters, she threatened me over the phone, she turned up at work, she harassed my mother—she threw a brick through my car window once. It got to the stage where I was looking over my shoulder all the time, even scared to go out.’

‘She sounds crazy,’ he said.

Holly shrugged. ‘I’ll probably never know whether it was the cause or the effect of her husband’s philandering, but it left me with several complexes. Strangely, although she scared me silly at times, I felt a streak of sympathy for her, whereas I could have killed her husband for putting me in that position. You could say I fell off cloud nine with a huge bump.’

She looked away and for a moment tears glittered in her eyes.

‘Go on,’ he murmured eventually.

‘I couldn’t believe I’d been so thoroughly taken in by him. I can only—I’d just lost my father, who meant the world to me, so I was depressed and so on when I met him.’

‘He was still living with her?’

‘No, he’d moved out, so I had no reason to suspect he was married. But I guess that’s my number-one complex—a terrible lack of judgement on my part. Funnily enough, I’d never believed I was the kind of girl to be swept off her feet by a man.’

‘Or vice versa—who does?’

Holly smiled bleakly. ‘It doesn’t help. Anyway, I’m very much on guard against that kind of thing happening to me again. And I’m terribly, terribly wary now of the maelstrom of emotions that can go with love and marriage.’

‘Maybe she was a unhinged. Perhaps you struck a one-in-a-million situation?’ he suggested.

‘Or maybe she just felt herself to be a woman scorned. Maybe she felt she couldn’t live without him; they had two children. Maybe she just felt desperate; I don’t know,’ Holly said.

‘What happened to them?’

‘He went back to her and they moved overseas.’ Holly fiddled with her napkin then looked straight into his eyes.

‘But for a few months I was in serious trouble. I felt so guilty, even though I hadn’t known about her. I was a nervous wreck—I still sometimes break out into a sweat and think I’m being followed. But my mother finally persuaded me to get some counselling and that’s when I realized only I could get myself out of it. So I plunged into my work and the harder, even the more dangerous it was, the better.’

‘And now?’

Holly rubbed her hands together. ‘For the most part, fine, but still terribly wary of men and love and marriage—and my own lack of judgement.’

‘I see.’ He finished his wine. ‘I guess that explains your aversion to chemistry.’

Holly bit her lip. Of course, he was quite right. The only thing was, she hadn’t had any problems with “chemistry” after that disastrous affair until he had come into her life. Well, she’d been perfectly capable of stonewalling it without feeling it herself, but that was not the case now.

She looked across at him. ‘My mistrust of it, yes. But I can’t say it hasn’t happened.’

‘Between us?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered. She gestured a little helplessly. ‘But you—you’re…This is business, serious business for me anyway. I need to get this interview right. If I don’t, you’ll can it or my editor will.’ She said with sudden passion, ‘I need to make it vibrant and compelling. I can’t do that if I’m—distracted.’

He stared at her with his lips twitching.

‘What?’ she asked huskily.

‘You are on the horns of a dilemma.’

‘If you’re going to laugh at me…’

‘I’m not,’ he interrupted. ‘Although that did strike me as, well, probably the least of our problems.’

Holly felt herself blush. She said honestly, ‘You’re right. I don’t know where that bit came from.’

‘Come and see the moon.’ He stood up, came round to her and held out his hand.

She looked up at him. ‘Where did that come from?’

He smiled. ‘The moon? It just struck me, it’s full tonight. See?’ He pointed out towards the east.

Holly gasped at the orange globe rising above the tree line. ‘Oh! How beautiful.’ She got up.

‘Mmm…’ He took her hand and led her out onto the lawn.

Holly was transfixed as the moon rose, and in the process lost some of its orange radiance and shrunk a bit. She shivered. Days out in the savannah might be hot, but the nights were very cold, and she hadn’t put on her jumper.

Brett put his arms around her. She couldn’t help herself, and she snuggled up to him.

‘Maybe this says it all,’ he murmured, and started to kiss her.

Her lips quivered, but it seemed to her that her senses would no longer be dictated by her mind. They clamoured for his touch; they were lit by the feel of him, tall and hard against her, and tantalized by the pure essence of man she was breathing in.

She loved the press of his fingers against her skin; she loved the way they explored the nape of her neck and behind her ears while he kept his other hand around her waist.

But a skerrick of common sense claimed her and she raised her hands to put them on his chest. ‘We ought to stop and think,’ she breathed. ‘This could be very dangerous.’

He lifted his head. ‘Why? It has nothing to do with anyone but us, and we couldn’t be in more agreement at the moment if we tried.’

Holly made a strange little sound in her throat. He stared down at her mouth in the moonlight and started to kiss her again.

She was almost carried away with delight when he stopped and raised his head to listen.

She came out of her enchanted trance with a start as she too heard footsteps. ‘Sarah,’ she breathed. ‘I’d forgotten about her. She must be feeling a bit better—hungry, maybe!’

‘We’ll go to your…’

‘No! I need to go and see if she’s OK.’ Holly stood on tiptoe and kissed him swiftly. ‘Thanks for listening.’ She sped off back towards the house.

Brett said something unrepeatable under his breath then looked down to see Bella sitting beside him. ‘Come to sympathize, old girl? Well, what would you say if I told you that Holly Harding could be the right one for me? She’s taken to Haywire as if she was born to it; she could be running the place, but of course it’s not only that. She’s becoming more and more desirable. But do I want a wife? It’s hard to put down roots without one. How good would I be with a wife, though?