by Karly Lane
She gave a small grunt of agreement but remained unconvinced. ‘I don’t know what you want from me, Michael,’ she finally admitted. ‘Besides the obvious,’ she added dryly.
‘You think I just want you for the sex?’ he asked roughly, his response surprising her with its intensity. ‘Do you honestly believe if all I wanted was that, I couldn’t find it in a simpler and a much less frustrating way than trying to get through to you? You actually believe I’m that desperate, that I’d willingly put up with the amount of rejection and cold-shoulder treatment you’ve dished out just to sleep with someone?’
‘Well, I don’t know, do I?’ she snapped, pulling away from his grip. ‘I barely know you.’
‘And whose fault is that? You’re the one who won’t give us a chance.’
‘All we do is fight. How on earth do you think we could ever live together?’
Stepping towards her, he took her lips in a kiss that silenced her outburst and effectively ended her tirade.
Raising his head to stare into her stunned expression, his eyes raked across her full, red lips, still glistening as she struggled to catch her breath.
‘We don’t always fight. When we create that much chemistry, how on earth can we not live together? I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you. That hasn’t changed even after all this time.’
He stepped back and his boots sounded loud on the timber verandah as he stalked away, leaving her staring after him, her thoughts as tumultuous as the brewing storm on the horizon.
Michael felt the gravel crunching beneath his boots as he stepped from the verandah and headed out towards the open plains and comfort of darkness. He needed to get away from temptation. He needed to take a breath and cool down before he forgot all his good intentions. He had wanted to wait until she made the first move and welcomed him back into her life of her own accord. Well, a lot of good that pep talk had done—this was the second time he’d jumped her like some sex-starved kid in as many days.
Bending down, he picked up a rock and tossed it in his palm a few times, taking its weight and throwing it as far as he could into the paddock before him. He was a grown man, for God’s sake. He ran a multimillion-dollar corporation, and after five minutes in Georgie’s presence he was acting like a lovesick teenager.
He swore softly as his mind went back to the moment in the tack shed when she’d turned and smiled. How many times had he closed his eyes after she’d left and tried to capture that smile? It lit up her face and made her eyes shine. He loved the way her soft chuckle made him warm inside. To see that smile again after the past few weeks of nothing but loathing and resentment had been the first sign that the old Georgie was still in there somewhere and maybe there was a chance that she’d come back and remember how good they’d been together.
He threw another rock and stared out after it, watching the lightning dance in the distance. It summed his mood up to a tee: wild, ruthless with a need to release the pent-up frustration and ache he’d carried around for the past eighteen months. Unfortunately, unlike the approaching thunderstorm, his inner storm didn’t seem likely to find a release any time in the foreseeable future.
Georgie couldn’t sleep.
The rumble in the distance grew closer with each passing hour and the lightning, still some distance away, lit up the shadows outside.
There was a stirring inside her that had nothing to do with the storm and everything to do with simple, unadulterated lust. Closing her eyes only brought up images of Michael’s hard, tempting body. Her imagination sent her senses into a tailspin as she swore she caught the tantalising trace of vanilla, spice and sex—a scent so purely the essence of Michael that she tossed back the covers in exasperation and went to sit by her window to watch the lightning, giving up all attempts of sleep.
The memory of his gentle touch with Titch earlier and the way he’d looked at her in the tack room continued to provoke a battle between her heart and her head. Suddenly, with a clarity she hadn’t experienced since uttering the words ‘I do’, she knew what she had to do.
Spinning from the window she almost ran down the hallway to the room at the end, opening the door and marching in to slay her demons.
Michael sat on the edge of his bed, his bare chest seeming to glisten as the lightning flickered in the sky beyond him. He wore only a pair of jeans. His elbows were balanced on his knees and his hands cradled his head, as though bowed in defeat.
He looked up as she walked towards him.
Georgie’s breath snagged in her chest as she caught the expression on his face, something between despair and longing.
Taking one last step, she was finally within touching distance. Slowly she reached out and traced the line of his strong jaw, feeling the rough bristles of his day-old growth.
In a swift movement he dragged her to him, pulling her against his naked chest and pinning her with the fierceness of his gaze. The torrent of built-up desire and hunger simmered between them. He claimed her lips and she pushed closer, demanding more of him with each plunge of her tongue and press of her mouth.
Beneath her fingers the solid muscle of his shoulder bunched, and she felt him shiver in response to her touch. It gave her the confidence to explore the length of his torso, moving her hands lower to cross the ridges of his ribcage until she encountered the stiff band of his jeans.
‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ she whispered.
With a small grunt of acknowledgment, he shucked off his jeans in record time, giving her a triumphant grin. ‘How’s that?’
‘Impressive,’ she breathed, reaching for him but instead having her hands captured in his and pinned above her head.
‘Now you’re the one wearing too many clothes,’ he told her in his deep sexy voice.
‘Well, I can’t take them off without my hands,’ she pointed out with a slow smile.
‘Then I guess I’ll just have to do it for you,’ he shrugged and the sexy grin that spread across his face set her heart galloping. Without breaking eye contact, he took her hands into just one of his above her head and with the other slowly traced a path down her neck to hover above the dip in her cleavage of her T-shirt.
Releasing her wrists, he slowly slid the soft fabric up her stomach, across her ribs, inch by inch, before moving it over her head and arms in one fluid movement.
Her eyes followed him hungrily as he sat down on the bed to unclip the top button of her jeans. He lowered the zip slowly, and with each agonising millimetre her breathing became more laboured.
Peeling away the stiff denim, he eased it down her thighs, tossing the jeans to the floor without removing his gaze from her now scantily clad body.
His burning gaze sent a pool of liquid heat to her very core and she squirmed beneath the weight of his desire.
‘Don’t move,’ he said, and she heard the strain in his voice and knew that he was as affected by the thought of making love to her as she was to him.
He slid a finger beneath her bra strap and moved it down her shoulder, before repeating the action on the other side. Reaching behind her back, he deftly unclasped the garment and she saw his eyes darken as her breasts spilled from their confines, his gaze scorching her with its intensity.
When his big hands gently cupped them, her eyes fluttered shut.
With a burst of need raking her body, she threaded her fingers through his short hair, tugging him up to eye level.
‘I want you,’ she said in a steady voice that seemed far removed from the turmoil raging inside her.
‘You’ve always had me,’ he said simply.
Georgie couldn’t speak. His words had stolen her last breath from her lungs and as he gently pushed inside her, the world exploded.
Neither of them noticed when the storm rolled past without breaking overhead, fading away and denying the land its promise of a downpour, leaving a heavy humidity in the air.
Twenty-Seven
Georgie stretched, her eyes still closed, and wondered for a nanosecond
why she felt so sore everywhere. Her eyes flew open and she turned her head to find Michael, his arm draped across her hip, watching her through half-closed eyes.
‘Did you know you snore?’ His voice was low and gravelly and sent a flood of warmth to parts of her that had been well used through the night.
‘I do not.’
‘You do. It’s a soft little snort, very cute. I meant to tell you before, but I never got around to it.’
Georgie flushed slightly, feeling somewhat exposed being so close to him after so long apart. ‘I should get up, I have to check on Titch and the cattle.’ She made to move, but he tightened his grip on her hip and stopped her.
‘It’s still early, even for you. Lie with me a while longer.’
‘Once I’m awake, I usually can’t go back to sleep,’ she told him, her body responding automatically as he pulled her to snuggle against him.
‘Then we’ll have to think of something to keep you occupied, won’t we?’
He grinned, leaning forward to nuzzle her neck. There was no point arguing; her body was already moving against him and a soft moan escaped her lips, sending an answering groan from Michael as together they tumbled back into bed.
‘You’ll have to stay put today, old girl,’ Georgie told Titch, rubbing her face against the kelpie’s sleek black fur. ‘That foot needs to rest and heal.’
‘How’s it looking?’
Georgie turned as Michael walked into the tack room and slid his arm around her waist.
It took a moment for Georgie to realise she enjoyed the comfort of his contact. Shaking herself mentally, she tucked a strand of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail behind her ear.
‘It should mend up pretty well, providing I can keep her from running on it too much and busting it open again.’
With a final pat, she pushed her loyal friend back in the smaller pen and shut the gate. ‘Don’t give me that look,’ she told the dog as Titch stared up at her with sad brown eyes. ‘It’s for your own good.’
Heading back outside, she put her hat on and went out to the yards to look over the cattle.
‘Thanks for feeding them for me, you might be pretty useful around here after all,’ she said nonchalantly, sending him a sideways glance.
‘Yes ma’am,’ he drawled with a tip of his head.
Her grin widened as she turned to face him. ‘Seriously, you’ve been great. I couldn’t have managed all this on my own.’
‘I have no doubt you would have more than managed. It seems there’s nothing you can’t do once you set your mind on it.’
His phone interrupted and he sent her an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry, but this better be life or death or someone won’t have a job when I get back,’ he said, then walked across the yard, talking as he went.
Scooping the grain into a bucket, Georgie was busy feeding the horses when Michael came back out to the yards. ‘Trouble at work?’
‘Trouble getting people to use their own initiative,’ he muttered.
‘So, tell me, what’s your plan now?’
‘My plan?’ he queried with a raised eyebrow, leaning against the rail and looking down at her.
‘You came here to prove a point, which you did last night, now what? Where do we go from here?’
‘Well, I guess that’s up to you.’
Georgie sent him a brief glance then returned to mixing the horse feed. ‘I don’t have the staff to up and leave this place on a regular basis, and I can’t see you moving from your headquarters in the city to here, so where does that leave us?’
‘We could hire more staff for here,’ he suggested.
‘We could, but I won’t. This is my business and I run it hands on.’
‘I thought you were open to the possibility of selling it.’
‘I am. I just don’t know when or even if I want to put it on the market.’
Michael seemed to hesitate briefly before speaking. ‘Georgie, come and work with me. You saw how well we work together. We make a great team, and I need someone like you beside me. Think of the scope you’d have to work with. With your background you’d fit in perfectly. You could put your degree to use on a scale most people can only dream about.’
‘You think I haven’t been putting my degree to use out here?’ she asked, her tone dropping to a low simmer.
‘I didn’t say that. I said you could use it on a bigger scale.’
‘I’ve never said that’s what my aim was.’
‘You wanted to build up Tamban.’
‘Well, I didn’t mean I wanted to take it to a corporation level,’ she muttered, somewhat irritated by his assumption. ‘See Michael, this is where we differ. You’re all about making money. I just want to work a property, have a family and give them back the legacy of the land. I don’t want to become part of a corporate conglomerate.’
Michael stared at her, disappointment etched upon his face. ‘I guess I just pictured us working together and got a little carried away. It’s no big deal, you can still do your own thing, whatever it turns out to be. I’ll support whatever decision you make.’
Georgie bit back a sigh. What was wrong with her? Why did she always feel as though she had to fight him every step of the way? He was offering her more than most people could even dream about: a dream job, a life of prosperity and luxury, the ability to afford whatever her heart desired, and yet …
‘I don’t know what I want to do. I need some time to think about it.’
The washing machine–like sound of horses grinding their feed as they ate filled the quiet between them.
‘I waited eighteen months, I can wait a few more,’ he told her quietly.
A heaviness settled in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t have the answers—when it came to their relationship it always seemed to involve an impossible choice. She wasn’t sure there would ever be a solution.
The next two days passed in a blur of hard work, fun and dusty cattle. In the evenings, Georgie and Michael swam in the creek and just enjoyed being together and strengthening their fragile bond. The topic of their future was one neither broached again, fearing an end to the delicate truce they’d declared.
Today, from the herd they’d brought down from the back paddocks, she’d had to cut out the cattle that would be heading to the sales and tag and drench the younger ones from the previous season. It had been a long day and it was on dusk as they prepared to finish up. Passing Michael and feeling dusty and hot, she couldn’t help a playful bump of her hip, catching him slightly off guard and earning a splash of cold water from the hose he held as he filled up the troughs. Giving a yell as he tried to regain his balance as dogs weaved and raced excitedly between their feet, Michael fell backwards and landed butt first in the water trough.
Georgie let out a gasp of surprise that quickly turned into a giggle. Slapping her hand across her mouth, she saw his initial shock slowly turn to thoughts of revenge.
‘Oh, this is funny?’ he asked quietly, getting out of the trough and advancing upon Georgie with gleeful malice.
Standing six-foot-tall and dripping wet, Michael was a comical sight. Georgie could hardly contain her laughter as she tried to retreat from his advance.
‘It’s a good thing you can ride a horse better than you can keep your balance,’ she pointed out.
His retort was cut short when the homestead phone rang and she turned to run to answer it. She chuckled as Michael walked past her, headed for his room to shower.
Georgie scooped up the phone from inside the back door, ‘Stoney Creek Station,’ she answered breathlessly.
For a moment there was silence on the other end. ‘Hello?’ she repeated.
‘Georgie?’
For a minute the familiar voice surprised her. ‘Veronica? Hi. How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ she answered hesitantly, and Georgie frowned a little at her confused tone. ‘Well, this is strange. I’m not sure how I managed to dial your number.’
Georgie gave a chuckle. ‘I h
ate when that happens. I hit the wrong contact all the time.’
‘Actually, I called Delacourt Holdings to get in touch with Michael Delacourt and they gave me this number.’
‘Michael? I had no idea you two knew each other.’
‘Oh. So he is there? Well, at least that part makes more sense,’ she said, sounding a little less confused.
‘How do you two know each other?’ Georgie asked. The old saying about what a small world it was had never applied more. This was one hell of a coincidence.
‘I don’t know him terribly well, but he contacted me once, about buying Stoney Creek, actually,’ she said, and Georgie felt a jolt of surprise run through her. ‘But that was ages ago. I’ve actually got a friend who’s selling a property. I thought maybe he might be interested.’
‘Ah … he’s not here at the moment,’ Georgie heard herself answer and was glad her voice at least sounded normal. ‘I’ll get him to call you back when he comes in. I’m sorry, Veronica, I have to take another call. It was good to hear from you. I’ll get him to call you. Bye.’
‘Oh. Yes, okay, bye.’
Georgie hung the phone up and found herself staring at the countertop numbly. ‘He contacted me about buying Stoney Creek.’ The words replayed through her mind. What the hell was going on?
Twenty-Eight
Michael came out into the kitchen and found Georgie sitting at the bench.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asked, something about the rigid way she was sitting alerting him that something was not quite right.
‘I’m hoping you might be able to tell me,’ she said. ‘That phone call I just took was from a friend of mine, only she seemed surprised when I answered the phone since she was calling to talk to you.’
‘Who was it?’ he asked, confused and wary. Clearly something was wrong here, he just had no idea what.
‘Veronica Tompkins called. How exactly do you know Harry’s daughter?’
Michael took a moment to search his memory bank for the name, until Harry’s name was mentioned and suddenly he knew where this was leading. ‘It’s not what you think,’ he started quietly, already fearing it was too late to explain.