The Cattle King's Mistress (6 page)

BOOK: The Cattle King's Mistress
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In a primitive society, he’d be the prize mate to get. No denying that, either. She had no doubt he could and would endure anything from this land, and still make it work for him. In some quintessential way, he belonged to it...as hard as these rocks, and just as unforgiving.

Maybe she was a fool to pass up an intimate involvement with him. Not that he was likely to give her a second chance after this morning’s contretemps.

Might it have developed into something very special? Some wanton core in her pulsed yes and it was difficult to argue away. Nevertheless, she worked hard at it.

Sexual attraction was no assurance of anything working out well. And why should she believe what Nathan King said about himself and his relationships with other women? He’d undoubtedly bedded the woman who’d chosen to marry another man. What did that say about him?

He dropped his bag onto a large flat rock. Miranda settled for one about a metre short of his. Since the cavern shaded them from the sun, she took off her hat, welcoming the cooler air here. In an attempt to ignore the tension of having to share some inactive time with Nathan, she emptied her bag, placing the plastic container of melon, which she’d sliced into finger-size pieces on the rock between them, then taking a long drink from the bottle of mineral water everyone had told her to take, warning of dehydration.

“I have a thermos of coffee. Would you like some?’’ he asked.

“Yes. Please.”

He used the same “table’’ rock to set out mugs and fill them, then produced two plastic containers of sandwiches. “Bacon, lettuce, tomato and cheese,” he informed her. “You’ll need something more substantial than melon. Help yourself.”

“You, too,” she invited.

They sat, munching and drinking in a loaded silence.

Eventually Miranda decided to settle a harmless point of curiosity. “Why did Albert call you ‘oldfella’ ? I wouldn’t call you old.”

“It relates to my family having been linked to this area for more years than Albert has lived. Longevity is counted in generations. Five generations here makes all of the Kings ‘oldfellas.’”

“I see,” she murmured, mentally kicking herself for even momentarily regretting her earlier rejection of him. A member of the King family would never seriously link himself with her, any more than a member of the Hewson family would, as Bobby had finally spelled out to her.

“What do you see, Miranda?”

She shrugged, meeting the searing question in his eyes with the inescapable fact she’d known from the beginning. “That I don’t belong and you do.”

“Where do you belong?” he asked.

She broke into laughter, shaking her head over the emptiness of that question. “Nowhere. That’s part of why I’m here. It doesn’t matter where I am.” She flashed him an ironic look. “I guess you could say I belong to myself.”

He frowned and turned his gaze down to the pool below them. A dark, dark pool, Miranda thought, like her family background. Not that it could actually be called family, just her and her mother whose men had never offered a wedding ring...the whole sorry misery of it coming to a lonely end years ago. It was hardly the kind of history the King family would want attached to them in any shape or form.

“So you don’t care about breaking up anyone else’s sense of belonging.”

The harsh remark was one too many for Miranda. “You have no right to probe into my personal life. I am here on a professional basis,” she stated icily.

“You might have fooled my mother...”

She leapt to her feet, snapping with anger. “That’s enough! I have never been a married man’s mistress. Nor would I ever put myself in such a demeaning situation.”

“Then what was all that mistress stuff about?” he shot back at her.

“It was about a man like you, wanting to put me in that position, and he had the power to mess up all I’d worked for. Just as you have the power to mess up my contracted time at King’s Eden.”

He was suddenly on his feet, a towering figure of proud indignation. “That’s a hell of a thing to think of me!”

“Like the things you’ve being thinking about me, huh? Treating me like dirt because I said
no play!”
Her eyes raked his arrogant pride into meaningless tatters. “Well, let me tell you I’m not about to take the chance you’re any different from him. I don’t care how sexy you are. I...won’t...play!”

Her whole body was shaking with the vehemence of that denial and her last three words boomed around the cavern, echoing, echoing... out of her control. She’d let him drive her out of control.

Desperate to grab some shreds of it back, she shoved her drink bottle into her bag. Her hands fumbled over the lid of the melon container. A hand clamped around her wrist, stilling the agitated action.

“I promise you...I swear to you...your position at King’s Eden is safe from any interference from me.”

Her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t bring herself to speak at all. She stared down at the strong brown fingers wrapped around her wrist, imprisoning it.

“And please...accept my apology for making you feel at risk. That was not my intention.”

His voice seemed to throb with sincerity. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t tear her gaze from the hold he had on her, his flesh imprinting itself on hers, fingers pressing on her pulse, his energy zipping into her bloodstream, imparting an indelible sense of joining that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“As for what I thought of you...I’m glad I was wrong. And I apologise for that, too. Believe me now...you are safe with me, Miranda. Okay?”

She nodded, too choked by a tumult of emotion to do anything else. He released her and began repacking his bag. Miranda concentrated hard on finishing with hers.

Her mind thrummed with the knowledge that she didn’t feel
safe
with Nathan King and never would. He was more than Bobby Hewson. Much more. And even if he left her alone, as he promised, she would not stop being acutely aware of him and the power he had to reach into her.

Neither of them said anything throughout the hours it took to journey back to the resort. There was no touching, physical or verbal. Miranda did her utmost to block him out of her personal space but he kept infiltrating it just by the sheer force of his presence.

For all her practised professionalism, she found herself hopelessly tongue-tied when she finally had to face him on the helipad at King’s Eden. She forced her gaze to meet his and almost flinched at the intense blue of his eyes as they probed hers.

“Thank you,” she blurted out, barely stopping herself from backing away from him.

“Miranda, I have nothing to do with the resort and Tommy would certainly not welcome any interference from me in his business,” he stated emphatically. “It’s entirely up to you to make good your position here.”

She nodded, her throat too constricted to speak.

“You want time to feel settled into your job... fine!” he went on. “But I don’t see myself forgetting what there is between us. And I don’t think you will, either.”

She did not answer, feeling the threat to her peace of mind and not knowing what to do about it.

“I’ll see you again sometime,” he added, and took his leave of her.

She watched him get into his Jeep and drive away. Only when he was out of sight did she begin to breathe easily. Two years at King’s Eden, she thought. Of course she would see him again...sometime. And what then?

What then?

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was
good to see Jared again. Nathan reflected that he always had enjoyed his youngest brother’s company. Tommy had a competitive streak, wanting to score points on everything, while Jared was simply content to be himself, not in contest with either brother. Maybe it was because he’d moved himself into their mother’s world, away from King’s Eden. Or maybe it was simply his nature.

They sat in the breakfast room, idling over morning tea, Jared and their mother relaxing after their flight from Broome, Nathan catching up on their recent activities. Tommy would fly in this afternoon and would inevitably draw Jared’s attention to himself, but for the moment, it was very pleasant listening to his youngest brother’s plans to extend the pearl business from wholesale into retail, as well.

“So how goes it with you, Nathan?” he asked, the conversation having lulled after he and their mother had filled him in on their news.

“Oh, nothing really changes here,” he drawled, except he only had half his mind concentrated on station business. Miranda Wade occupied the other half, but he wasn’t about to lay out that very private issue.

In fact, he was thinking this family get-together on the station—the first this year—may very well provide the opportunity to get him close to Miranda again, in a non-threatening social situation, which would surely ease her fears.

“Mum tells me we have a new manager at the resort,” Jared prompted. “A woman.”

“Yes.” A woman who haunted his nights and wouldn’t get out of his head even during the day.

“So how is she working out?”

“I have no idea.” Which was really a lie. He’d envisaged her a thousand times, burning with utter commitment to getting everything right at the resort, shutting out everything else from her mind. Including him. Especially him. Though he didn’t believe she could be any more successful than he was at setting aside the strong attraction they’d experienced. All the same, the need to know wouldn’t wait much longer.

“Don’t you have some impression, Nathan?” his mother asked, frowning at him.

“Why should I? I don’t stick my nose into Tommy’s business any more than I stick it into Jared’s.”

His mother’s gaze sharpened on him. “You did take Miranda on a sight-seeing trip, didn’t you?”

“Six weeks ago,” he answered with a shrug. “I haven’t seen her since.”

His mother sighed, looking extremely vexed.

“I’m sure Tommy will fill you in when he arrives this afternoon.” Nathan smiled at her, seeing a way to use her frustration. “You can grill him to your heart’s content,” he added casually.

It earned an exasperated glare. “I wanted another point of view.”

“Then why not ask Miranda over to dinner tonight, satisfy yourself about her? Satisfy Jared’s curiosity, too. You could ask Sam, as well. Get her opinion. Make a party of it.”

“Yes,” his mother snapped, looking at him as though she wanted to box his ears. “I shall do that, Nathan. I’ll get some answers for myself since I can’t count on either you or Tommy to be sensible about women.”

Her eyes glittered bitter disapproval.

He thought fleetingly of Susan, aware his mother had considered her a waste of his time. But mothers didn’t know everything. All the same, he was glad that door was shut now because another door had opened and it had a stronger lure than any he had ever known.

“Well, it’s lucky you can count on Jared to be sensible,” he tossed out, then slanted a teasing grin at his brother. “Been a good boy, have you?”

He laughed and they moved onto a lighter vein of conversation, which suited Nathan just fine since he only had to give half his mind to it.

Tonight, he thought with deep satisfaction.

Tonight he would find out more about the woman he wanted.

 

As was her custom, Miranda was ready to welcome back the homestead guests as they returned from their day’s activities. She waited on the verandah, watching the fishing party unload themselves from the Jeep Sam always commandeered, and thinking they looked well satisfied with what they had chosen to do.

“Look at these great barramundi!” John Trumbell crowed, holding up his catch for her to admire as he led the others up the path.

Miranda laughed at his glee. “Biggest I’ve seen this season, John.”

Robyn, his wife, asked. “Can we give them to the chef to cook for our dinner tonight?”

“Of course. Should make a great feast for you.”

“It was a marvellous day,” Robyn enthused. “I’ve never gone fishing in a helicopter before.” She swung around to Sam who was trailing after them. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Couldn’t get you to that part of the river any other way,” Sam informed her.

Robyn sighed happily, turning to the other couple who had accompanied her and her husband. “Don’t you just love the outback? It was like fishing in a world of our own.”

The others made equally enthusiastic comments as they passed Miranda. Sam sidled up to her and remarked sotto voce, “Wonderful, when you’ve got money to burn.”

She grinned. It was true the guests who took homestead suites never seemed to count the cost of anything. Nevertheless, in the month since the resort opened, she’d found that even the campers loved being here, just exploring the gorges, swimming in waterholes, enjoying the unique wildlife.

“So what’s on for tomorrow?” Sam asked, rolling her eyes.

“For them the Bungle Bungle Range.”

“Got Albert lined up to take them in after I’ve landed them?”

“Of course.”

Miranda’s mind flinched away from the memory of her morning with Nathan. It still haunted her, even after six weeks of seeing nothing of him. It seemed he had decided to respect her choice not to play. The problem was, in the lonely hours of the night, she was tormented by the question of what might have been if she’d chosen differently.

“Someone coming,” Sam remarked, squinting past Miranda at a Jeep, which was fast approaching. “Looks like Tommy. Must be coming from the station homestead. Are you expecting him?”

“No, I’m not.” She was puzzled by this unheralded visit. “He dropped in on Tuesday to check through everything with me.”

Sam gave her a crooked smile. “Well, it’s Saturday. Maybe he’s without a date tonight and hopes you’ll fill in.”

“Then he’ll be out of luck.”

Sam shook her head in bemusement. “It’s an education, watching you block him out. Mind if I stay to watch the fun?”

“As you like.”

She didn’t find Tommy’s flirtatiousness fun, and didn’t really see what fun Sam could get out of watching them together. Apparently it amused her, yet Miranda kept remembering what Nathan had said about Sam’s feelings for Tommy, and she couldn’t help thinking it was masochistic to want to watch. Or maybe it was a case of not being able to help herself. If he was like a magnet to her...

A convulsive little shiver ran down Miranda’s spine. It had certainly been easier, throwing herself into her job and getting on top of it with Nathan out of sight, if not completely out of mind. Tommy was not a problem to her. His irrepressible personality seemed to bounce around her personal sidesteps and he never pushed beyond the boundaries she set. Getting the business right came first with him and he wasn’t about to upset that applecart.

“How’s it going?” he called cheerily as he came up the path.

“Fine!” Miranda answered.

He stopped short of the verandah, looking up at them with a quizzical little smile. “Mum and Jared have flown in for the weekend. You are commanded to come to dinner at the station homestead tonight.”

She frowned. “Commanded?”

Her heart started skittering. Nathan had
commanded?

“Invited,” Tommy corrected wryly. “But take it from me, there’s no ducking out of my mother’s invitations.”

His mother, not Nathan.

Her mind started skittering.

Did Tommy think she ducked out of
his
invitations? Why couldn’t he simply accept her disinterest? Was he behind this
command?
Was Nathan? Was it simply Elizabeth King dictating her own desire to check the situation at the resort?

Why couldn’t they simply let her be? She was doing a good job. Yet she felt an irresistible tug at the thought of meeting Nathan again...what it might mean...

It would be safe, she reasoned. Had to be safe with Elizabeth King there, and the other brother, Jared. It might even dispose of the wanton thoughts that plagued her lonely nights... show her beyond question how foolish any involvement with him would be.

“What about our guests here?” she prevaricated, feeling hopelessly at odds with a desire she
knew
could lead nowhere good.

“Spend Happy Hour with them,” Tommy promptly replied. “Settle them at the table, and leave them to their own devices. They know each other from last night, don’t they?”

He’d checked the bookings earlier in the week and all four couples in the homestead suites overlapped this weekend. “I won’t be able to leave here until after seven,” she pointed out.

“That’s understood. We’ll be dining at eight.” He slid Sam a teasing look. “Mum said for you to come, too, squirt. Balance the table.”

“Oh, sure! I can just hear Elizabeth saying that,” she scorned.

“Well, I told her you probably didn’t have a dress to wear.”

“I’ll put one on especially for Jared.” She cocked her head on one side. “Or maybe I’ll make a play for Nathan, now that Susan’s out of the picture.”

Susan...Miranda found her hands clenching and consciously relaxed them. Susan might not have been Nathan’s
mistress,
but he hadn’t married her.
Don’t forget that!

Tommy laughed and bounded up the steps, ruffling Sam’s copper curls as he passed. “Go get him, Red!” Then to Miranda, “I’ll just have a word with Roberto. He can come out of his kitchen between courses and wax lyrical about what he’s cooked for the guests. Keep them happy.”

They watched him head off inside, mission accomplished as far as they were concerned.

“One of these days I’m going to kick him in the shins,” Sam muttered.

It drew an instant wave of sympathy. Both of them fools over men. “You have beautiful hair,” Miranda quietly assured her. “If you ask me, Tommy couldn’t resist touching it.”

She heaved a rueful sigh. “I bet no man has ever ruffled your hair, Miranda.”

“I haven’t had the easy-going kind of friendships you’ve made. I rather envy you that.”

It drew a speculative look that Miranda instantly shied away from, not wanting to answer questions about her life. She glanced at her watch. “Better get moving. Are you going to accompany me to the commanded dinner or go over earlier by yourself?”

“I’ll wait for you. I’ll get one of the resort Jeeps and have it out here at seven-fifteen. Okay?’’

“Yes. Thanks, Sam.”

“You’ll like Jared,” she remarked, still with that speculative look.

“We’ll see,” Miranda returned non-committally.

It wasn’t Jared on her mind as she headed off to get ready for tonight. It wasn’t Jared or Tommy or Elizabeth King playing havoc with her pulse rate and tying knots in her stomach.

Nathan...his name was like a drumbeat on her heart.

Tonight she would see him again.

And she wanted it to be right.

But how could it be?

It was mad to think it...mad to want it...yet despite every bit of hard, common sense reasoning...there was no denying what she felt.

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