Heir to Danger

by Valerie Parv

  Some of the figures were drawn on overhanging rocks sixty feet from the ground and many feet from the closest wall. “It’s remarkable how they managed to paint up there,” she said, pointing. “The cave entrance isn’t wide enough to bring in lengths of timber.”

  “The local people say they were put there by an ancient tribe existing thousands of years before the present inhabitants.”

  “The Uru,” she said, awe coloring her tone. “The style is identical to the work I’ve studied elsewhere. Perhaps they had another means of access then, higher than where we came in.”

  “It’s possible. The land formations would have changed over the centuries since the Uru lived here.”

  Looking at the figures, she could almost hear the click of the rhythm sticks and the throb of the didgeridoo, that ancient instrument made from a hollowed-out log that had accompanied tribal rituals since the Stone Age. The sounds reached out to her from across time, sighing to her from a spiritual meeting of ancestral clans like a tribal séance.

  Tom was watching her. “You hear it, too, don’t you?”

  She shook off a vision of black figures daubed with white lime clay and adorned with goose feathers, carrying spears and stamping their bare feet to the haunting music. “There’s nothing to hear.”

  “Liar,” he said softly. “You hear it, and you feel the presence of the song men.”

  “Song men?”

  “That’s what Andy’s clan call the custodians of their tribal history. The stories are told and retold through song, rather than being written down. The rock art is the only tangible record.”

  A sigh rippled past her lips. “What is it we think we hear?”

  “Echoes of the past stored in the cave walls? Maybe nothing outside our imagination. Who knows?”

  “It doesn’t matter as long as we’re witness to their legacy.”

  He hadn’t noticed, or didn’t mind that he had dropped his arm around her shoulders as they talked. A frisson of pleasure feathered through her at the closeness. Then she felt a frown gather. She had dreamed of confirming the travels of the Uru around the world. Now the finest examples she could imagine surrounded her, some of the drawings close enough to touch. And where was her attention focused? On the wish that Tom would sweep her into his arms and make her forget everything but him.

  She forced her attention back to the rock art. “Are there more caverns like this in this system?”

  “Almost certainly, but as children, we were afraid to explore any farther for fear of getting lost.”

  Hard to imagine him being afraid of anything. “Why didn’t you come back as an adult?”

  “Until you raised the question of this site belonging to the Uru people, I had no reason to. Diamond Downs has hundreds of rock art sites. As far as we knew, this one was no different from the others. And you have to agree, it isn’t the easiest place to get into.”

  Thinking of her leap of faith off the end of the ledge, she nodded. “Probably why it was chosen in the first place, and almost certainly why it has remained untouched for so long.”

  “We’ll have to take care that any access we allow doesn’t harm the paintings,” Tom observed.

  She tilted her head back to admire the painted roof. “Would Andy and his people consider creating replicas that can be opened to visitors? Then the original caverns could be restricted to scholars who know how to protect the work.”

  Tom rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s possible, not unlike making prints of the works of the old masters in our culture. We could even set up a touring exhibition for people unable to travel to Diamond Downs.”

  “Your father’s home will become world famous,” she observed. She switched her gaze to the closest of the drawings, an elongated figure of a man, his head haloed. “Unlike the paintings in the taboo gorge, these don’t look as if they’ve been retouched.”

  “According to the local clan, the drawings were done by spirit people, so the spirits are expected to maintain them.”

  “Except that the Uru people died out many thousands of years ago.” Her excitement grew, and she gripped his hand. “Tom, do you realize what this means?”

  His fingers curled around hers. “You’ll be famous for discovering the link?”

  She fought to ignore the tingling sensation his touch created. “You and your foster brothers and Judy discovered it. All I’ve done is put a name to the artists.”

  Tom slanted her a grin of triumph. “If it brings the kind of acclaim you expect, it will save Des from ruin and keep the land out of Horvath’s hands.”

  Sharing his excitement, she slid her arms up around his neck and kissed him.

  It may not have been the first time she’d kissed him of her own volition. In his arms she had trouble remembering anything. But Tom seemed startled and she wondered if she’d been too forward.

  On the point of pulling back, she reminded herself that this was Australia. Men and women were equal here. If she wanted to kiss him—and she wanted to about as much as she wanted to keep on breathing—she had a perfect right.

  He didn’t seem to mind. After his first jolt of reaction, his mouth softened under hers and he allowed her to explore to her heart’s content. Kissing was different from being kissed, she decided, her scientific mind eagerly soaking up the sensations.

  Up to her whether to tease around the edges of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, or to plunge deeper. She did both, eliciting a groan from him that made her senses sparkle. So much for his determination to resist her.

  “For pity’s sake, Shara,” he said around her kisses. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

  She knew because the echo was in every part of her, too. In the dimly lit cave, surrounded by evidence of a prehistoric civilization, she felt prehistoric herself. The thought filled her with awe. Yesterday she’d been a virgin princess. Today she was a cavewoman, wise to the ways of love, arousing her caveman with her kisses until there was only one place left for them to go.

  Without speaking, Tom grasped her hand and led her back through the labyrinth to the hideout cave. Over the centuries, leaves had drifted through the narrow entrance onto the cave floor, making a soft carpet underfoot. Tom lowered her to the cot in the corner, his mouth never leaving hers. Subtly he had shifted from letting her kiss him, to kissing her with an ardor that left her breathless.

  He was doing much more than kiss her. His hands were busy at the buttons of her shirt, worrying them until he got them open and plunged inside, exploring her body with almost worshipful care.

  As he caressed her breasts the virgin princess in her knew a moment’s resistance, until the cavewoman remembered that this was Tom. Her Tom. She leaned closer, letting him hold and surround her, touch her until desire clouded her mind to everything but how much she cared about him.

  Would she ever have enough of his touch? Of his mouth? Of his love? She burned with the wanting. The clothes she’d retrieved from the plane were soft and finely woven, but they created an unwelcome barrier between her and her heart’s desire. Frantically she placed her palms against his chest. He moved away long enough for her to shrug the shirt off her shoulders and reach both hands behind her to undo her bra.

  Breathing hard, he took the garment from her. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  She touched her hand to his face. “And you’re the most beautiful man.”

  “Men aren’t beautiful.”

  “You are, to me. You have an amazing body and a beautiful mind. The work you do is selfless. Even your concern for your foster father is beautiful. What more can a woman want?”

  He didn’t see himself the way she did, she realized, when he blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth as if to argue and she pressed her fingers against his lips. “Don’t say anything. Just love me.”

  He didn’t need a second invitation.

  With swift, careless movements he stripped off his shirt. Balling it into a pillow, he placed it under her head. His deli
cious man scent rose from the fabric when she filled her lungs with air. Emboldened, she slid the zipper of her pants down and eased them off over her hips, kicking them away. A narrow band of black lace was her only remaining cover.

  Kneeling beside her, he started to ease her panties down. Suddenly shy, she moved to prevent it and he grasped her hands between his, kissing her fingertips. “It’s all right,” he soothed. “We can stop anytime you want to.”

  Feeling the unbelievably erotic pull of his mouth around her fingers, she dragged in a shallow breath. “Do you want to stop?”

  “It may well kill me, but I will for your sake. I’ll do anything you want me to, Shara.”

  Anything but promise her forever, she thought. All because he didn’t trust himself to do what he was doing—sacrifice his own desires for her sake. Couldn’t he see the illogic? He was already holding himself back. He would never hurt her in this or any other way.

  Logic was for later. Now was for the two of them. “I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered.

  He peeled her panties off and stood up. Giddy with anticipation, she crooked an arm behind her head and watched him finish undressing. He was more than beautiful. Naked, almost fully aroused, he was magnificent.

  He knelt again but didn’t touch her. The waiting was almost intolerable. “Is something wrong?” she asked. How could she bear it if he’d changed his mind about wanting her?

  The truth was in his heated gaze. “I’m taking my time, looking at you. Princesses aren’t the only ones capable of appreciating beauty.”

  A glow stole over her. “I’m not a princess right now.”

  He leaned over her and traced a line of kisses from her neck to her navel, making her shiver with delight. “To me you’re always a princess. A pagan princess in this setting, perhaps, but always special.”

  His kisses traveled lower and she arched her back, her fingers scrabbling among the bed of leaves. He skimmed the gentle curve of her stomach and she let out a long, unsteady breath. “Oh, Tom.”

  “The way you say my name, you make me want to give you the moon.”

  “The moon isn’t what I want right now.” Couldn’t he see that the waiting was killing her? Not to mention the white-hot sensations bombarding her as his hand began a new voyage of exploration.

  He sat back on his heels. “Yesterday, this was all new to you. Today, you’re making demands.”

  She blinked hard. Had she misunderstood how things were in Australia? “Have I done something wrong?”

  He circled her nipple with his finger. Fresh heat tore through her. “Hardly.”

  He teased the other nipple and she writhed beneath his hand. “Then why do you make me suffer so?”

  His eyes gleamed with wicked intent. “Because I can.”

  Then she knew. He was building the tension to make the release so much more wonderful. She linked her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. “You’re a hard man.”

  He unhooked one of her hands, kissing the palm before guiding her fingers down to cup him, showing her just how hard she’d made him. Instinct took over and she began to stroke him.

  It was his turn to squirm. “Have a little pity, woman.”

  “I’m having as little as I can,” she teased, her fingers moving. No amount of biology lessons had prepared her for this. For the silk and steel and volcanic heat of him. Or for the heady discovery that she was the cause.

  She couldn’t resist. “Do you know why I’m doing this?”

  With a groan, he raised his head. “It’s a form of torture unique to Q’aresh?”

  “No. Because I can.”

  His gaze darkened. “You think so?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “You think you’re the boss?”

  She kneaded gently and thought he was about to explode. “For the moment, since you’re in my hands, so to speak.”

  He scissored her legs between his, forestalling further exploration. “We’ll soon see about that.”

  He moved away from her long enough to grab his discarded pants and reach into a pocket. He retrieved a small packet and tore it open with his teeth.

  “Do you have an inexhaustible supply of those?” she asked.

  “This is the only one. We’d better make it count.”

  He sheathed himself and came back to her almost in the same movement. She was more than ready.

  “In all my studies, I never imagined making love in a cave,” she murmured much later as she lay in the crook of his arm. She felt exhausted but sated, and happier than she had ever dreamed was possible. “Do you think the spirits of the cave approve?”

  His free hand splayed across her stomach. “I know I do.”

  “What about the Uru?”

  “Oh, definitely. Why is it important?”

  “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

  “I believe there are many things in life we can’t explain.”

  She drew a deep breath. “I feel as if I’ve been here before.”

  He chuckled. “Me too, aboard your plane.”

  She swatted at him. “Don’t you believe in déjà vu?”

  “I’ve never experienced it myself, but if you say you’ve been in the cave before, I’m willing to go along. I just wish you’d have let me know.”

  “Do all men have such one-track minds?” she asked.

  “Only when lying beside beautiful women they’ve just made passionate love to,” he explained. Then he kissed her lightly. “I love that you have to ask.”

  “Because I’m such a novice at this?”

  “For a novice, you catch on pretty fast. For a while there, I was afraid I might not last the distance.”

  “I’ll try to be more considerate in future,” she said primly.

  “Shara…”

  His hesitation notched the fear higher. “It’s all right,” she said, striving to sound as if she meant it. “I haven’t asked for any promises. Nor will I.”

  “You deserve them. You deserve better than me.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?”

  “So far, you haven’t shown much judgment where I’m concerned.”

  She sat up and pulled her legs close to her body, hugging her arms around them. The sun was no longer spilling through the entrance, but she hadn’t felt cold until this moment. “As you just reminded me, I haven’t had much experience with men, but I’m not stupid. If I thought you were a danger to me, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “How can you be so positive, when I’m not?”

  “Because I know you. Not the small details of your life,” she said before he could interrupt, “but the kind of man you are.”

  He reached for his clothes. “Whenever I’m with you, you make me wish I could be that man.”

  “You already are. I love you,” she said on impulse.

  He had stood up to pull on his pants. Now he froze, his expression appalled. “Don’t, Shara. What we’ve shared was more wonderful than anything I’ve ever known, but it isn’t love. It can’t be. Not with me.”

  She stood up and began to dress. “Perhaps it’s me who didn’t satisfy you, and you’re trying to let me down lightly.”

  He pulled up his zipper, then thrust his hands into his pockets as if to stop himself from reaching for her. “You must know that’s not true. Maybe if we give this some time—no.” He cut off whatever he’d been about to say. “No, I won’t risk it. I won’t risk you.”

  “And that’s an end to it?”

  “It has to be.”

  She put on her bra then slid her arms into her shirtsleeves and began to button it, trying not to think of Tom’s fingers undoing those same buttons. “I haven’t been brought up to beg, but I will if you leave me no choice.”

  He’d pulled on his shirt and boots. As he tucked the shirt into his pants, he said, “You could be begging for the love of a monster.”

  Before she could utter the cry of denial welling inside her, he’d moved to the entrance and disappeared through it.<
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  Chapter 18

  She took her time finishing dressing, needing to think. Her whole body throbbed with the effect of his lovemaking but her mind was clear. He wasn’t the monster he imagined himself to be, she would stake her life on it. Yet as long as he believed it, there was no hope for them.

  One thing was certain. If she persisted in trying, she would drive him away from her for good. Play it cool, she believed was the Australian expression. Pretend she was happy with the status quo until his own need for her brought him back to her.

  What if it didn’t? What if all they really shared was physical?

  She didn’t believe that either.

  Time to put it to the test.

  When she finished dressing, he still hadn’t returned. Her heart raced at the thought of confronting the frightening climb, but she steeled herself and followed him.

  Going out from the cave wasn’t as bad as going in, she discovered. From this angle, the way back to the ledge was obvious. It only looked like a dead end from the other approach. If scholars were to come to the caverns, the access would have to be made as safe as possible without harm to the surroundings, she thought.

  She found Tom hunkered down at the lower end of the ledge, his cell phone in hand. Everything in her yearned to touch and stroke, but she held back, knowing nothing else was going to work.

  “What is it, a message?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Judy couldn’t contact me while we were in the cave. She left a text message to say that Des has collapsed.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from touching him in mute support. “Is he in the hospital?”

  He shook his head. “He should be but Judy couldn’t persuade him to go, and the doctor’s away delivering a baby, so he can’t get there for some time. And Blake’s chasing after a rogue croc that’s threatening a settlement.”

  “You must go to your foster father.”

  He stood up. “Judy’s message warns that Jamal has been seen in the area. He’s probably waiting for you to show up.”