HOLLY gasped, then evaded his arms and sat up urgently. ‘That’s exactly what I don’t want you to feel you have to do!’
He propped his head on his elbow and looked up at her with a glint in his eyes she couldn’t decipher. ‘You’ve had time to work that out?’ he queried.
She bit her lip. ‘Obviously, otherwise it wouldn’t have come to mind.’
He grimaced. ‘But why not?’ He lifted a hand and touched his fingers to her nipples.
Holly shivered but forced herself to concentrate. ‘How could you suddenly want to marry me? I’m sure you don’t ask every girl you sleep with to do that.’
He looked briefly amused. ‘No. But it’s not so sudden. It’s been on my mind since you came to Haywire. Look, you asked me how I juggled things earlier: the truth is I’m at a bit of a crossroads. I’m getting tired of all the juggling I have to do. I’m thinking of coming home on a fairly permanent basis. That’s what prompted the zoo idea—it’s a way I can carry on my work and be here at the same time.’
Holly turned her head. ‘Won’t that be an awful wrench for you?’
‘Sometimes,’ he said slowly and pulled her back against him. ‘And I’ll probably always take off now and then; I won’t be able to help myself. But it’s time to put down some roots. The thing is—’ He paused. ‘I’ve had trouble really coming to grips with the idea—not the zoo, but putting down roots. Because I’ve had no-one to do it with. But now there’s you.’
Holly tried to think. ‘I’m—I don’t know what to say. Please tell me, are you serious?’
‘Deadly serious.’
She stirred against him. ‘Brett, could I be—and I ask this seriously—a bit of a novelty for you?’
She felt him shrug. ‘A wonderful novelty,’ he agreed. ‘But we also have a lot in common. You fitted into Haywire almost as if you’d been born to it.’ He threaded his fingers through hers. ‘Could you see yourself living there? Us living there?’
It occurred to Holly that she could. It was a lifestyle that encompassed all the things she loved: far away, exciting, different and still a challenge at times. And with a huge challenge coming up, if he went ahead with his plans for the zoo.
What about her career, though?
She could always freelance, she thought.
She even found herself contemplating a serious journalistic career focusing on the cause that was so dear to his heart and was becoming more and more fascinating to her.
Of course, there was the other factor: she was conscious of his body against hers and the sheer delight, the strength and warmth, it could bring her. Not only that, it was as if she’d found the centre of her universe in him.
She moved abruptly. ‘I…Brett, could this not be love but something more—convenient?’
‘It didn’t feel convenient a little while ago. Did it for you?’
She shivered again as she relived their passion. ‘No,’ she whispered, shaken to her core.
‘And there’s this,’ he went on very quietly. ‘How easy would it be for you to get up and walk away from me?’ He smiled ironically. ‘Assuming it was possible anyway and we weren’t marooned in an oasis in a bloody riverbed.’
She had to smile but it faded swiftly as she battled with how to answer him. ‘I…’ She stopped as tears suddenly beaded her lashes.
‘Don’t cry,’ he said very quietly. ‘It would be hell for me too.’
‘The last thing I would want to feel is that you’re sorry for me.’ She sniffed.
‘I’m not. But I do feel as if I want to look out for you.’
‘That could be the same thing,’ she objected.
‘No. It means I care about you.’
Holly sniffed again. ‘Do I have to make a decision right now?’
‘Why not? We’re never going to get as good an opportunity to think clearly.’
She frowned. ‘What—how do you mean?’
‘No outside influences at all.’
She swallowed in sudden fear. ‘What if we don’t get rescued or we don’t find the station?’
His lips twisted. ‘Perhaps the perfect solution. We could do a “me Tarzan, you Jane” routine. No, only joking. We will get rescued.’ He pushed aside the layer of cover and took her in his arms. ‘Believe me,’ he added, and kissed her gently.
Holly felt herself melting within, and when he lifted his head she laid her cheek on his shoulder.
‘Is that a yes?’ he queried.
She hesitated. ‘I don’t know yet. I just don’t know.’
He grimaced but said, ‘Never mind. I’ll ask you again every hour on the hour until our rescuers arrive or we arrive somewhere. Go back to sleep.’ He looked at his watch over her head. ‘We’ve got a couple of hours before dawn. Comfy?’
‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, yes.’
Five minutes later she was fast asleep, although Brett stayed awake for a while and contemplated this turn of events. Surely she wasn’t planning to walk away from him now? he theorized.
It wasn’t dawn that woke them; they slept well past it, in fact.
It was the sound of a man clearing his throat and saying, ‘Excuse me, but were you two in a airplane crash?’
Chapter Nine
THEY both shot up. Holly immediately grabbed the blanket and pulled it up as she realized what a state of disarray she was in.
Not only was there a tanned, wiry little man with bowed legs and a big hat looking in on them, but two horses were looking over his shoulders with pricked ears and what appeared to be deep interest.
Even Brett was lost for words.
The man said, ‘Don’t mean to disturb anything, but if you are from the plane there’s a hell of a hue and cry going on over you. Tell you what, I’ll just take a little walk while you get—organized.’ He wheeled his horses around and walked away.
Holly and Brett turned to each other simultaneously and went into each other’s arms.
‘I told you we’d get out of this,’ he said as he hugged and kissed her.
‘You did, you did!’ she said ecstatically. ‘And I offered my kingdom for a horse—I can’t believe this! Where on earth did he come from?’
In the event, their saviour was a boundary rider for the station they were making for, and he was quite happy to wait while they had a swim. Fully clothed and decorous, they changed into their other set of clothing. He even made them a cup of coffee while he waited.
While they drank coffee, he explained how he’d heard the news of the loss of the plane just before setting out from the homestead on a routine inspection, and how he’d promised to keep his eyes open.
‘Didn’t see nothing, though,’ he added. ‘But last night I smelt smoke on the breeze and the breeze was coming from this direction, so I thought I’d take a look and see.’
‘Is this your camp?’ Brett asked.
‘Sure is,’ the man, Tommy, replied proudly. ‘I put the shelter up, and they call it Tommy’s Hut.’
‘Well, your fishing gear was a lifesaver, Tommy. So was the rest of it. How far are we from the homestead?’
Tommy chewed a stalk of grass reflectively. ‘Bout a three-hour ride, considering there’s three of us and only two horses. Won’t be able to make much time. You and the missus can share a horse.’
‘Any family in residence at the homestead?’ Brett enquired.
‘Nope, just a manager. The place has gone up for sale, actually—family quarrels over money, I hear, so they need to cash it in. But they got radios and phones to get word out you’re OK, and to rustle up a plane to get you back to Cairns.’
‘Great.’
‘Goodbye,’ Holly said softly half an hour later when the camp had been tidied up and most of their gear stowed in the shelter.
She was perched in front of Brett on a tall brown horse.
‘Talking to me?’ he enquired.
‘No. I’m farewelling a lovely spot, a place that was a bit of a lifesaver and a bit of a revelation.’ She turned for a last look at the lagoon, the water
lilies, the birds and the palms. ‘An oasis.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘And more.’ But he didn’t elaborate.
It was late that afternoon when they flew back into Cairns. A plane similar to the one they’d crashed in had retrieved them from the cattle station, where they’d taken fond farewells of their rescuer and his horses.
They hadn’t had any time alone together at all.
What Holly hadn’t expected, or even thought about, was that there would be an army of press waiting behind a barrier to greet them. She blinked somewhat dazedly into the flashlights as she stepped down onto the runway in the general-aviation section of the airport. Then she made out a face she knew in the crowd and, with a little cry, she ran forward and into her mother’s arms.
A day later, Holly was still at Palm Cove.
Her mother had gone home and Holly had been in two minds as to whether she should go back to Brisbane too. She’d seen little of Brett, who’d been tied up with air-crash investigators and all sorts of authorities. She herself had kept a very low profile.
In fact, after she’d said farewell to her mother, she’d gone for a walk along the beach and felt like pinching herself. Had she dreamt that Brett Wyndham had asked her to marry him? Had she dreamt up a magic oasis that had become a place of even greater pleasure? No, she knew she hadn’t dreamt that. She still had some marks on her body to prove it.
But was she a journalist with an interview to complete, or what?
‘Remember me?’
She jumped as Brett ranged up alongside her. ‘Oh. Hi! Yes, although I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.’
He took her hand and swung her to face him. He wore a loose, blue cotton shirt and khaki shorts; his feet were bare.
‘I’m sorry.’ He bent his head and kissed her lightly. ‘Can you remind me the next time I’m tempted to crash-land a plane that the amount of paperwork involved is just not worth it? And it’s not finished yet!’
Holly giggled. ‘All right.’
‘Incidentally, I sent a helicopter out to the crash site and Tommy’s Hut. They brought all our stuff back.’
‘Good. Although my mother brought me some clothes.’ She looked down at the long floral skirt she wore with a lime T-shirt.
‘Would she have brought anything appropriate for a ball?’
Holly stiffened.
‘It’s tonight,’ he said. ‘Please come as my partner. And to the wedding tomorrow evening.’
‘No. Thank you, but no. I—’
‘Holly, sit down. Look, there’s a handy palm-tree here.’
‘Brett’ She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her, and finally they sank down and leant back against the tree.
‘You’re looking a little dazed,’ he said. ‘And I can’t blame you—’
‘Yes, well, if I didn’t dream it,’ she interrupted, ‘please don’t ask me to marry you again, because at the moment I am—I don’t know if I’m on my head or my heels.’
He stared down at her. ‘You didn’t dream it,’ he said with a glimmer of a smile in his eyes. ‘Although I won’t ask—not immediately, anyway.’ He sobered. ‘But this ball is a way for us to be together tonight, because I can’t get out of it and I’m having withdrawal symptoms. How about you?’
Holly drew her knees up, put her arms around them and rested her chin on them in a bid to hide the powerful tremor that had run through her.
‘Holly?’ He said her name very quietly.
She turned her head and laid her cheek on her knees. ‘Yes. Yes, I am. I’m missing you.’
‘Then?’
She sighed and looked out to sea. ‘All right. Do you have to go off somewhere now?’
‘Not for at least half an hour,’ he said. ‘What would you like to do?’
‘In half an hour?’ She smiled. ‘Well, talk, I guess.’
He stretched out his legs as she sat up, and he put his arm around her. ‘Did I tell you how fantastic you were?’
Holly made her preparations for the ball in a state of mind that could have been termed ‘a quandary’.
On one hand, she wanted to be with Brett rather desperately but, on the other, did she want to be with him under the scrutiny of his family and doubtless a whole host of people?
Not only a host but probably a high-profile host.
It was in line with this thought that she followed an impulse and booked into a beauty parlour when she normally wouldn’t have. The impulse was not only prompted by a need to hold her own in an upmarket throng; her nails were broken and ragged and her hair resembled a dry bird’s-nest despite having washed it.
So she had a manicure and a deep-conditioning hair treatment, as well as a mini-facial. She came out of the parlour feeling a bit better about the ball and definitely better about her hair and nails.
Next decision was what to wear. For once in her life she was tempted to shop, then she remembered that her mother had brought one of her favourite dresses, one that was the essence of simplicity but which she always felt good in.
It was black, a simple long shift in a clinging silk jersey with a scoop neck and no sleeves. With it she wore a necklace made of many strands of fine black silk threaded with loops and whorls of seed pearls and tiny shells. It was the necklace that really made the dress, and the shoes. They were not strappy sandals but a pair of low court-shoes in silver patent with diagonal fine black stripes. Her mother had even packed the bag that went with the outfit, a small patent-leather purse that matched the shoes.
How had her mother known she would need these items? Holly wondered suddenly. Then she recalled with a smile that Sylvia never went anywhere without being fully prepared for any eventuality. It struck her suddenly—had her mother guessed that there was something between her only daughter and Brett Wyndham?
It probably was not such an unusual conclusion to come to since they’d been forced into each other’s company for the last three days, not to mention the days that had gone before, and Sylvia could be pretty intuitive.
She shrugged and started to put on a light make-up.
Brett came to collect her from her room an hour early, and took her breath away in a dinner suit.
‘You look lovely,’ he said and took her hand.
‘So do you,’ she answered with a glint of mischief in her deep-blue eyes.
‘Lovely?’
‘In your own way.’ She studied his tall figure in the beautifully tailored black suit. ‘Distinguished. Dangerous.’
His eyebrows shot up ‘Dangerous?’
‘Dangerously attractive. Did I ever tell you that you were rather stunning as a Spanish nobleman?’
‘No.’ He grinned down at her. ‘You were far too busy impersonating a French Holly Golightly and spinning me yarns about asses and camels.’
Holly gurgled with laughter. Somehow the ice was broken between them, which was to say, somehow she felt a lot better about going to this ball with him.
‘I’m early,’ he said as they walked away from her room, ‘Because Sue is having pre-ball drinks in her suite. I’ll be able to introduce you to her, as well as Mark and Aria. Incidentally.’ He paused. ‘My ex-fiancée will be at the ball, and she could be at Sue’s drinks. I don’t think I told you she’s in charge of all the wedding festivities.’
Holly missed a step.
He stopped beside her. ‘She’s a friend of Aria’s, and she’s the best at this kind of thing. It’s been over between us for some time now.’
Nine months; it shot through Holly’s mind. It’s not that long, is it?
But she said nothing, although some of her feel-good mood about the ball ebbed a little as she thought of being confronted by Natasha Hewson.
She need not have worried, she soon discovered. Her presence both at Sue’s drinks and the ball was that of a celebrity—the girl who’d survived the plane crash with Brett but kept a very low profile since.
Mark and Aria were warmly friendly, so was Sue Murray. And so was Natasha Hewson. She was the same
redhead Holly had seen dining the night before they’d flown to Haywire.
She was also extremely beautiful, tall and exotic in a bouffant shocking-pink gown.
Holly did have a momentary vision of Natasha and Brett as a couple and thought they would have been absolutely eye-catching. But Natasha appeared to be happily in the tow of a handsome man, and Holly could detect no barely hidden undercurrents between her and Brett. Which was probably why what did eventuate later in the evening came as such a shock to Holly.
In the meantime, she started to enjoy herself.
The resort ballroom faced the beach and the cove through wide glass windows, so the view was almost unimpeded. Due to a trick of the evening light, you felt as if you could lean across the cove and touch Double Island and its little brother.
Dinner was superb, a celebration of “reef and beef” that included the wonderful seafood found in the waters off the coast. Not only was dinner superb but the company beneath the chandeliers and around the exquisitely set tables was too.
Cooktown orchids decorated the tables, and the women’s gowns, in contrast to the men in dark dinner-suits, brought almost every colour of the spectrum to the scene: primrose, topaz, camellia pink, sapphire, violet, oyster, claret and many more. Not only the colour, but there was every style and texture: there were silks, satins, taffetas, there were diaphanous voiles encrusted with sequins that flashed under the lights. There were skin-tight gowns, strapless ones, ruched and frilled ones. As it happened, there was only one plain-black one…
She and Brett dined at a table for eight that included his sister Sue as well as the bridal couple, Mark and Aria. Natasha Hewson was on the other side of the room.
After dinner, Brett invited her to dance.
‘You know,’ he said as she moved into his arms, ‘You’ve done it again.’
She shot a startled look at him.
‘You stole the show as Holly Golightly; you’ve done it here.’
Holly blinked, then shook her head. ‘Oh, no.’
‘Believe me, yes.’ He pulled her close. ‘Do you dance as well as you do everything else, Miss Golightly?’ She lowered her voice a notch. ‘Possibly better than I ride, monsieur.’
The Socialite and the Cattle King Page 12