A Kiss to Seal the Deal (12 page)

Maybe. Depending on what she decided.

It was a hellish journey through bracken and the most brutal
and most effective coastal scrub she'd ever seen, and then over the cliff face onto a heavily eroded and dangerously exposed path. Grant led her carefully down and her legs and chest ached when she finally reached the bottom from the brutal descent, from the torturous anticipation. And from the weight of her heart at having to make this decision for them both.

‘This way.' He took her hand again and helped her over the rocks, catching her elbow as she stumbled and guiding the way over the easiest parts. She clung to his strong fingers. It felt strangely right to be discovering this together, to have someone by her side at one of the most exciting moments of her life. Not just someone—him. Every moment before it suddenly seemed meaningless because Grant hadn't been there to share it. She frowned.

That wasn't good.

Physical pull was one thing, but how long had this been building? How long had she been slowly forming a list of qualities in him that she was drawn to, nurturing growing tendrils of attraction and admiration? She lifted her head and watched him move carefully and surely over the rocks. How long had it taken before even the shape of him walking away from her had become burned into her psyche? The breadth of his shoulders, the taut, narrow waist. The firm, strong legs built for climbing rocks, built for pinning her to the mattress…

She gasped out loud.

He turned and placed a finger to his lips and Kate squeezed her windpipe shut, not even daring to breathe, and mentally shook the uninvited thoughts free as they stepped quietly around a limestone spur covered in tufts of coastal spinifex.

And then there they were.

Her heart muscle seized. Her feet stuck to the rocks as though it was quicksand and not millennia-old granite she stood upon. Adrenaline flooded her system. Only the tug of Grant's reassuring hand got her moving again, let her turn her head to scan the rock shelf by the water.

Four bulls and eleven females, all lazing around, two bulls making furtive sport of play-fighting. It was hard to tell from this distance whether any of the Atlas colony was here but chances were good they were.

Grant towed her up behind a large boulder and helped her climb to its top. From there she could watch the colony in safety. She slid down to a comfortable resting position, braced against Grant's strong length, her eyes glued to the mammals below.

‘There's more males than last time,' he whispered.

Last time? How many times had he been here?

‘He's like a sheik with his harem.' She indicated the largest of the bulls who scanned the group looking for interlopers, alert for dissent. ‘The lesser males will fight each other for the privilege of the big guy's cast-offs, or whatever they can steal while his attention is on rutting another female.'

‘Not much dignity in being a fur seal,' Grant murmured.

‘Nope. Not for any of them. Then again none of us make our best choices when our hormones are surging.'

Wasn't that the truth?

The big male lurched over to a female half his size. She saw him coming and the chase was on, the bull hitting amazing speed for a body so cumbersome, for rocks so sharp. The young female gave him a good run before his biological imperative won out. He caught up with her, subdued her and clambered on top, practically obscuring her from view.

Kate dropped her eyes as the alien grunting began, and the terrified squeals.

Grant leaned closer, a strange tone in his voice. ‘After all the disgusting things you do every day,
this
is what gets to you?'

She winced. It sounded too much like fear, like pain. The scientist in her said it couldn't be because the rest of the colony lay relaxed and unconcerned. But a deeper part of her…

‘That could be one of my girls,' she hedged. ‘I don't like seeing them brutalised.'

He snagged her hand and tucked it into the warmth of his. ‘Isn't it nature?'

‘Unfortunately, yes.'

‘How long will it take?'

‘Not long.' As Kate said the words, the male lurched off his flattened mate and she bolted to the far side of the shelf, vocalising her protest loudly. Kate hurt for the confused little seal now tending its various injuries.

‘Well, I'm feeling a bit rubbish about being a bloke right now,' Grant muttered next to her and she couldn't help the watery laugh that broke free. Several sleek, brown faces snapped in her direction, including the giant male, who didn't seem to be any sleepier for his exertions. Grant pulled her closer to him, out of their view, and the two of them lay there, unmoving, breathing in synch and waiting for the seals, attention to be diverted.

Kate's eyes drifted closed as her lungs filled with Grant's close scent. Clean and masculine. It was a darned sight better than the odours wafting all around them. She happily pressed her face into the warmth of his shoulder while the legitimate opportunity presented itself. He was every bit the opposite of that lumbering, savage bull-seal. If he made love to a woman, it would be tender and gentle, generous and protective.

That last quality, particularly, cracked her heart just a little bit more.

Not that anything like that between them was particularly on the cards. For all their progress, the place they'd reached was barely more than where other people started—civil neutrality. Despite some random kissing here and there, she was no closer to knowing Grant's heart than when they'd met two months ago. Except to know she wasn't in it.

When he released her moments later, she pressed cool fingers to her warm cheeks. ‘I'm sorry. That was really unprofessional.'

He smiled. ‘Kate Dickson, the seals' champion.'

She stared at the young female seal. ‘If I was Mother Nature there are a few things I would arrange differently.'

His eyes held hers, warm, soft. ‘I can't think of anyone more suited to the job,' he said.

His smile deepened and Kate took a moment to enjoy the rare, natural moment. She stared up at him, lost.

He broke free an eternity later, flicking his eyes back to the seals briefly. ‘How much do you need to see?'

‘That's about it. There's no question this is the breeding site.'

He stared at her. Hard. ‘So what happens now?'

Kate measured his mood and then twisted sideways to face him more directly. ‘Don't sell the farm, Grant. Please.'

Disappointment flooded his eyes. ‘Kate, we've been through—'

Desperation made her rash. ‘I'll run it for you. I'll make it profitable.'

‘What's left of it after the buffer goes in? Good luck with that,' he snorted.

‘I'll find a use for the conservation zone.' Apparently she wasn't above begging, whatever it took to get a mutual agreement. So she didn't have to choose.

‘Isn't that the whole point of a buffer zone? That it's livestock-free?'

‘I'll think of something.'

‘How, Kate? With what money?' His reasonable tone only tolled certain doom. Was she so pathetic he couldn't even be angry with her?

A deep frown cut into her vision. ‘You'd have to float it at first, of course, but if we can make a profit…'

‘You can't be a scientist and a farmer, Kate.'

‘Why?'

‘Because you're good but you're not super human.'

The stark common sense ate like acid into her desperate
plea. What was the point of killing herself keeping the farm going if she couldn't keep up with her study?

‘No.'

He watched her carefully. ‘Will you report this to the Conservation Commission?'

This find would put the signature on a buffer decree. The land would be accessioned and a caveat would be put on Tulloquay's title. Grant would be legally obliged to declare it which meant he'd probably be unable to sell the farm to a decent buyer. At best, he might be able to get the zoning changed, sell what was left of it to hobby farmers.

Slice it up like a pizza into ten-acre lots.

Along with his soul.

She looked at him and remembered how she'd felt when her life had been sold off in auction lots to strangers. That made her decision clearer, if not easier.

She shook her head and damped down the ache in her heart. ‘No. I won't.'

Grant's eyes closed briefly. ‘What about the seals?'

She shook her head again and spoke, flat and despondent. ‘My research findings will have to stand in their own right. It might not be complete without a significant site but it's still valid. The Atlas seals will just have to take their chances with the next owner.'

Grant frowned. ‘There's
nothing
we can do?'

She lifted her eyes to his. ‘Yes. You can keep the farm.'

Frustration hissed out of him. ‘I can't, Kate. This was my father's life.'

‘So honour it.'

Pools of anguished green glittered at her. ‘I'm trying to honour it by leaving it intact.'

‘Then stay and run it as a farm.'

The pools darkened dangerously. ‘I think we both know I'm no farmer.'

‘You just need training.'

‘I have a six-figure job in the city. Responsibilities.'

‘Which you seem to have managed just fine via the internet.' He'd not had to make a single trip into the city since arriving as far as she knew.

‘It's not the same. I'm only working a few cases. Technically I'm on long leave.'

‘But it is doable?'

‘I'm a senior partner, Kate.'

‘What, they've bought your soul as well as your expertise?'

‘I'm not good at it, Kate!'
All the seals including the bolshy male lurched off the rock shelf and disappeared into the frigid water, leaving only the sounds of Grant's explosion echoing around the now empty cove.

Kate took a couple of slow breaths to give him time to compose himself. ‘At farming?'

‘At any of it. It just doesn't interest me. It never did.' His whole body language shifted. Those broad shoulders that looked like they could support the world slumped along with his hanging head. His fists clenched. ‘I'm not a farmer.'

Kate lowered her voice to match his. ‘What does interest you? The law?'

He took an age to answer. ‘The law is what I do. I respect it. I owe it my living.'

‘But?'

‘But I would hope there's more to me than that.'

Kate frowned. ‘OK. Imagine all of this was over and you'd sold your stake in the law firm and money was no object. What would you do?'

Grant lifted his head, blinked at her. ‘I have no idea. There's always been the firm. I worked so hard to get there.'

‘Let me ask this another way.' She thought for a moment. ‘What's on your magazine stand?'

His laugh was raw. ‘Wow, this seriously is armchair psychology.'

She arched one brow. ‘You do read more than contracts, I presume?'

‘I have a huge collection of journals. Alphabetised.'

Why doesn't that surprise me?
‘On what?'

He shrugged again. ‘Civil engineering. Construction. Architectural wonders.'

‘Why?'

He frowned at her, clearly frustrated with her needling. ‘Because it's interesting, building things. I spend my days looking for loopholes that will tear contracts down. It's nice to think about building things instead. Things that last.'

Things that last—like the heritage of a family. ‘Then build something, Grant. Don't worry about being a farmer.'

‘You're talking about developing Tulloquay? You?'

‘I'm talking about
strengthening
Tulloquay. Making the most out of it. Build an environment centre. Build a school. Build a museum.'

‘Tulloquay has always been a farm.'

Why was he so fixated on the past?

‘So farm something else. You don't have to run sheep just because your father did. The old sheds down the back were originally for cattle.' If you asked Kate, neither was particularly suited to this blustery, exposed site where even the good parts took a hammering from the…

‘Wind!'

Grant's eyes narrowed. Kate twisted and grabbed both his hands. ‘You could build a wind farm.'

The laugh that barked out of him was more than insulting. ‘Do I strike you as the hippy type?'

Like her and her team? But she didn't bite. ‘I don't believe for a minute that a man with racks of engineering journals wouldn't see the worth in alternative energies. Or the suitability of this coastal zone to wind farming.'

Again, his body language changed. His eyes narrowed
slightly. His spine straightened. ‘That doesn't sound cheap,' he muttered, holding his interest in check.

Digging for loopholes?

‘I'm sure it's not. But it's lucrative.'
Or there wouldn't be similar outfits up and down the coast.
‘Can you imagine how Mayor Sefton would fall over himself to have the state's first one-hundred-percent wind-powered town? And with interest comes funding. And a project like that would probably meet the Conservation Commission's definition of conservation purposes, even though its also development. You'd have to come inland a bit to get them away from the seal sites but you could revegetate thickly beneath them. Fulfil the requirements of the buffer.'

OK now he really was interested. Either that or his pupils were having another nonepenepherine surge. But somehow, dressed in her best lab whites and completely un-made-up, she didn't think so.

He tipped his head to look up at the top of the cliffs where the wind blew a permanent gale. But, as she watched, his bright eyes dulled. The high flush dropped from his cheekbones. His head started to shake. ‘No. Tulloquay is a sheep farm. That's how Dad meant it to be. That's how it needs to stay.'

‘What if you sell it to someone who puts a factory on it in five years?'