by Valerie Parv
Tom kept his face blank. “That’s between Shara and me.”
Des glowered. “Look, son, my heart might be defective but my brain isn’t. I won’t be wrapped in cotton wool just because of what some fool doctor told you.”
“He told you the same thing he told me. Too much stress can kill you.”
The older man’s eyes narrowed. “And a transplant won’t?”
“The success rate—”
“Requires some other poor soul to die to give me a chance at life,” Des interrupted, “so I can hardly feel happy about it. Not that there’s any hurry to decide. The doctor reckons my age puts me well down the priority list.”
Judy, Tom and their foster brothers had all tried to convince Des that if he was given a chance at life, he should grab it with both hands. He was still far from convinced. At the thought of being without him, Tom felt a reaction as if someone had kicked him in the gut.
“You sure Shara wasn’t trying to outrun her intended?” Des persisted.
Another kick, this time a little lower down. “What makes you ask?”
“One of Judy’s colleagues told her he flew Jamal’s retinue and a ton of baggage out to the Horvath place yesterday.”
“Jamal came to Australia by private plane. He can’t have been happy leaving his flash plane at Halls Creek airport because Horvath’s runway can’t handle a decent-size aircraft,” Tom said, betraying how much he already knew of Shara’s situation.
Des’s eyebrow lifted, but he let it go. “I told Clive he should do something about that apology for an airstrip. He never listened. Now it’s too late.”
The sadness in Des’s voice betrayed how much he still missed his friend and neighbor. They’d known each other for most of their lives, until Clive was bucked off a horse and killed five months before.
“I don’t suppose Max Horvath will upgrade the airstrip,” Tom commented.
Des’s face twisted. “Max isn’t half the man Clive was. No wonder his father disowned him.”
“I didn’t know he had.”
“He meant to, but changing his will was another thing he never got around to doing.”
Something in his foster father’s voice alerted Tom. “So?”
Des hesitated then said quietly, “You may as well know. Max now holds a mortgage over Diamond Downs.”
“You never mentioned a mortgage before.”
“It was a private arrangement between Clive and me when the medical bills started piling up and the income fell off, to be forgiven in his will.”
“But if he never changed it…”
“Max isn’t likely to. He reckons I convinced his old man to stay on instead of moving into a retirement home. Can you imagine Clive Horvath in a retirement home?”
Tom’s gesture swept the question aside. “How much are we talking about?”
Des named a sum that pulled an oath out of Tom. It was more than he and his foster brothers could put together in a hurry. “You should have told us things were that bad,” he chided.
“You boys have had enough struggle in your lives. I’m supposed to ease your way not complicate it.”
“You haven’t. If Max starts pressuring you for the money…”
“He’s already started.”
“Refer him to Blake or me. It may take time but we’ll find a way to repay him.”
Des shook his head. “He doesn’t want repayment. He wants this land so he can look for my grandpa’s diamond mine.”
Tom and the others had grown up with the legend of Jack Logan’s rich find. The trouble was, Jack had disappeared before revealing the location to anyone. Andy Wandarra’s people were said to know the secret but believed Jack’s spirit haunted the site and refused to speak of it. “Assuming the mine really exists, how does Max expect to find it?” Tom asked.
Des popped the top on a can of beer, ignoring Tom’s automatic frown of disapproval. “Eddy Gilgai works for him now.”
Eddy was a cousin of Andy Wandarra’s and had been on Diamond Downs’s payroll until he was caught stealing. He’d been cautioned several times, including by Tom. When the thieving didn’t stop, Des had no choice but to terminate his employment. Even then, he could have remained on the land, but the clan elders had banished him. Later Tom learned that Eddy had been seeing girls from his clan who were taboo to him under the complex laws governing relationships. “If anyone knows the location and would violate the site, it would be Eddy,” Tom agreed, mentally adding another worry to his growing list. “One problem at a time. Let’s hope Max and Jamal keep each other occupied until Shara’s leg heals.”
Des took a swallow of his beer. “Clive had a contract to supply cattle to King Awad of Q’aresh. As the new owner, Max won’t have any choice but to deliver on it.”
Tom massaged his chin between thumb and finger. “You have to wonder why the king sent someone his daughter warned him wasn’t trustworthy.”
“Maybe that’s why he did it.”
“To get Jamal out of the way, you mean?”
Des nodded. “He couldn’t have known Jamal would drag Shara along with him.”
Thinking of the tape hidden aboard the plane, Tom said, “We have to keep him from finding out she’s here.”
“It won’t be easy. You know how fast news travels in the outback?”
“Only too well.” As a boy, Tom had been the subject of enough gossip to last him a lifetime. Even today, stares occasionally followed his progress down the main street of Halls Creek and murmured voices told each other, “That’s the man who’s father…” His arctic look silenced them at least until he was out of earshot, when no doubt the rest of the story would be poured into eager ears. Gossiping was human nature, but he thought they should have found something else to talk about by now. Evidently they hadn’t.
Tom was right. On Diamond Downs, Shara stuck out like a sore thumb. An idea began to form in his mind of how he could help her, and make amends for hurting her at the same time. He reached for a can of beer and took a thoughtful drink.
“You’re very kind, but I can’t take your things,” Shara insisted as Judy dragged an assortment of clothes out of her closet and dumped them on the bed.
The other woman planted her hands on her hips. “Your clothes are out of reach aboard the plane. You’re going to need a few things to see you through this.”
Her friend was right, but Shara didn’t like admitting it, even to herself.
Judy frowned. “I understand pride. When Tom first came to us, he was a walking mass of it. So stiff-necked, you couldn’t say a word to him without offending him. If he could learn to bend, surely you can, too?”
“I don’t think he bent very far.”
Judy grimaced. “It didn’t take you long to work that out. What happened between you two in that cave?”
Half in and half out of her jeans, Shara tensed. “He took care of me, nothing more.”
Judy made a face. “He must be losing his touch.”
Shara didn’t ask her to elaborate. If by “his touch” Judy meant he was charming to women, Shara had already worked that out for herself. Their first meeting might have been far from romantic, but she couldn’t deny his power-house effect on her. Her grandmother would say he turned her on.
No amount of telling herself she was adrift and vulnerable made any difference. Whatever his true background, he exuded an air of assurance that marked him as a leader, tripping every female hormone she possessed without even trying. She didn’t intend to do anything about it, but she was woman enough to feel the impact.
Careful of her injury, she pulled the ruined jeans off and dropped them on the floor. The black pair Judy proffered were tighter than those Shara normally wore and sat low on her narrow hips. When she zipped them up they fit as if molded to her.
Shara lifted a filmy white top over her head. It settled like a cloud over her shoulders, the soft material drifting down to outline her breasts. The cowl neckline revealed the deep cleft between them. In her country, she w
ould never have worn such revealing clothes. Could she overcome years of conditioning and dress as Judy did so naturally? Yes, she decided with a defiant glance in the mirror. For better or worse she was in Australia. She would do as the Australian women did.
Wanting to earn Tom’s admiration had nothing to do with her decision.
“Take that outfit with you, it looks great,” Judy urged. “You can have the other stuff, too.”
“Won’t you need them yourself?”
Judy glanced at her well-filled closet. “What for?”
Thinking of Tom, Shara said, “To please the man in your life.”
“I’d rather dress to please myself. Besides, there’s no one on the horizon at the moment. At least, there was. But he doesn’t seem all that interested.”
“And you’re—what do you call it?—holding a candle for him?”
“A torch,” Judy amended. She shook herself like a puppy shedding water. “He’ll either come back or he won’t. Dad’s my priority at the moment.”
Shara shot her a look of concern. “Your father is ill?”
“He has a serious heart problem. The only cure is a transplant.”
Thinking of the run-down state of the buildings, Shara asked, “Forgive me for asking, but is money the problem?”
“Partly, but throwing yourself on your father’s mercy won’t help, so don’t even think about it. In this country everyone has access to medical care through the public hospital system. And Tom and the boys can come up with whatever Dad needs if he’s treated privately. But they can’t guarantee that Diamond Downs will be here when he recovers.”
Shara stilled in front of the mirror. “How can land not be here?”
“Max Horvath owns the property bordering ours. He wants control of our land and he won’t rest until he gets it.”
“I know the name. Horvath has supplied bloodstock to my father for many years. I understood he is a good man.”
“Clive Horvath was a good man, one of Dad’s oldest friends. But he died five months ago in a riding accident. His son, Max, is a different kettle of fish.”
Ignoring the confusing metaphor, Shara said, “He doesn’t have enough land of his own?”
Judy perched on a corner of the bed and folded her arms. “Oh, he does, but he isn’t interested in raising cattle. Too much like hard work. According to legend, my great grandfather, Jack Logan, found a fortune in diamonds on our property. Max wants the diamonds.”
Hearing the scorn in Judy’s voice, Shara said, “You don’t think the legend is true?”
Judy shook her head. “When I was a kid, I did. But the only evidence we have is the journal entry Jack left about a fabulous new diamond mine he was going back to explore. He disappeared before telling anyone where the mine was. The local Aboriginal elders are said to know the location but they won’t go near it.”
“Why not?”
“They say the place is haunted by Jack who supposedly died at the site of his discovery. All I know is his body was never found, and the aboriginal people working here clam up if the diamonds are mentioned. Now Max wants them, and it’s my fault.”
Judy held out a pearl silk top. “Try this on, it’s more your color than mine.”
Reluctant to spoil Judy’s obvious enjoyment, Shara shimmied out of the white top and into the second one. She stood patiently while Judy gathered the loose folds and knotted them at Shara’s waist, exposing a good inch of midriff. “How can Max’s actions be your fault?” she asked.
“Max wanted to marry me and I turned him down. He thinks I was poisoned against him by his father. Max can’t see that his attitude is what turns me off.”
“Not to mention the torch you’re carrying for this other man,” Shara said.
“Right.” Judy stood up. “You should wear that. It looks better on you than on me. I have too much up front to do it justice.”
Shara thought Judy was being unnecessarily modest about her appearance, as she said, “I wish I could help you and your family. You’re being too kind.”
Ignoring Shara’s protests, Judy scooped the white top into a plastic carrier bag, adding a pair of camel moleskins and a sweater. “Don’t worry about us. The boys won’t let Max stand over Dad. We were going to ask Tom to go over and talk with Max this afternoon.”
Shara shifted uneasily. “Instead, he got held up on my account.”
Judy grinned. “Max isn’t going anywhere. And when Tom sees how you’re dressed, I don’t think he’ll have too many regrets.”
Shara’s hands fisted uneasily in the silky fabric. “Perhaps it’s better if I don’t distract him.”
“Relax, I’m joking. In any case, Tom’s bombproof when it comes to women.”
A sharp sensation gripped Shara. She wasn’t interested in romance. Her life was already complicated enough without it. Yet the thought that Tom might be involved with another woman had a staggering impact on her.
She had spent only a few hours in his company. How could she feel anything toward him, far less this stomach-twisting dislike of an unknown woman?
She masked her reaction with a polite smile. “Is he engaged to be married?”
“Good grief, no. By bombproof, I meant he doesn’t want a lasting relationship.”
The relief that washed through Shara was tempered by curiosity. “Why not?”
“It’s Tom’s story. I’ll let him tell you himself when he’s ready.”
If he was ready, Shara interpreted. She took a last look at herself in the mirror. She looked almost Australian. Only her dusky complexion and kohl-rimmed eyes hinted at eastern mystique. The combination was startling she saw, and unwillingly pictured Tom’s reaction. Not that she wanted to have an effect on him.
Even so, his reaction was hardly the one she’d expected. When she and Judy rejoined the men, Tom’s voice trailed off and his eyes went cold as he stood to acknowledge her. “That isn’t going to help,” he stated.
At least Shara wasn’t alone in feeling puzzled. Des and Judy looked equally baffled. “I think she looks fabulous, don’t you, Dad?” the young woman asked.
“Like a magazine cover girl,” Des agreed.
“You may as well serve her up to Prince Jamal on toast,” Tom snapped.
A chill frosted Shara’s spine. “He can’t have found me already?”
“Not yet, but he’s staying with a neighbor, Max Horvath,” Tom stated. “Looking like that, you’ll be the talk of the area. Word will get back to him so fast your head will spin.”
Shara shivered. Her head was already spinning, partly with the awareness of her own foolishness. She had let herself feel safe at Diamond Downs, when nowhere was safe from a man like Jamal. Trying on Judy’s clothes, she had been so carried away anticipating Tom’s reaction, that she had forgotten who and what she was.
She was a princess on the run, and it was only a matter of time before Jamal found her and forced her to return to Q’aresh as his bride. Her brief taste of freedom would be over before she had brushed the traditional bridal rice and rose petals out of her hair.
And if Jamal used her to usurp her father’s throne, the consequences for her homeland would be disastrous.
Chapter 4
“Remind me again why I let you talk me into helping you on my vacation?” Tom said as he followed Blake into an enclosure containing a twelve-foot female crocodile his foster brother wanted to introduce to a male.
It wasn’t Tom’s first experience of handling big crocs. He had helped Blake to set up Sawtooth Park as a tourist and research venture. Tom still had shares in the park. They’d worked together until Tom decided that he preferred a career as a shire ranger. Not out of fear of the man-eaters, as Blake joshed Tom, but because spending his life hip deep in mud had turned out to have limited appeal.
Blake reveled in the life. At just over six feet, Blake was as tall as Tom, with hazel eyes, longish brassy-gold hair and a cowboy’s rangy build that belied his muscular strength.
Today, Tom welcomed the
dirty, dangerous work and he wouldn’t be surprised if Blake had guessed as much before asking for his help. Finding out about the mortgage Max Horvath held over Diamond Downs had given him nothing but a colossal headache.
Shara’s refusal to stay with Des and Judy at the homestead wasn’t helping either.
The woman had as much of a death wish as Blake, Tom decided. Learning that Prince Jamal was so close by should have spooked her, but no, she had to prove she wasn’t afraid of her would-be fiancé, insisting on being driven back to the old cottage. Thinking of her alone there had kept Tom awake for a good part of the last two nights since the dinner with Des.
How long would it be before Jamal found out she was on Diamond Downs land? Staying with Des and Judy, she had some protection. On her own in the middle of nowhere, she had none.
Not that it was any concern of his, Tom assured himself. She might be a sloe-eyed beauty with more fire than most women he knew, but it didn’t mean he wanted to get any more involved with her problems. Driving by the old cottage and keeping an eye on her from a discreet distance yesterday was part of his job as a ranger, nothing personal.
Now all he had to do was convince his raging hormones.
Because worrying about her wasn’t all he’d done while lying awake long into the night. Part of the time was spent imagining her small, firm body pressed against him. In her own clothes, she’d looked every inch a princess, regal and untouchable. In Judy’s clothes, showing off that tantalizing flash of café au lait midriff, she’d made his mouth water.
Fear shot through him, and not because he stood within feet of an unseen crocodile. That kind of fear he could handle. The prospect of a serious relationship alarmed him much more. And in spite of his personal history, he wanted to be close to Shara.
Her pride, boldness and insistence on living her life her way no matter what the cost sent his blood pressure soaring higher than her beauty did, and that was fast enough.
In a matter of hours she’d slipped well and truly under his skin where she had no business being. No woman had. Leaving her alone at the old cottage had taken almost more grit than he possessed. Everything in him had urged him to follow her inside.