Country At Heart

by Mandy Magro

  Summer knew what he meant; they’d done it a hundred times before. Their lips now pressed together, she exhaled as Dean drew in her breath, and then he did the same as she drew him deep into her lungs, the ecstasy of such a simple thing pushing her beyond the realm of normal desire. Then, their tongues met in a fervent dance, twisting, licking, tasting, sliding, teasing and caressing while their hands clasped together as if they never wanted to let go. Hunger building, Dean grabbed her thighs and pulled her up. She wrapped her legs around him, his hardness pressing into her sweet heaven making her hold her breath. She wanted him inside her, deep inside her, where she could feel at one with him.

  Carrying her over to their bed, Dean placed her down so her legs were dangling over the edge. Kneeling, he gently pushed her knees apart while sliding his tongue along the inside of each thigh, licking and kissing his way up, breathing his warm breath over her, teasing her as he resisted the urge to slide his tongue inside her so he could taste her sweetness. He loved the taste of her, and the feeling of her silky-smoothness pressed against his mouth, but she would have to wait a bit longer – he wanted to push her to the brink of euphoria for a little longer. She arched herself into him, moaning in pleasure as goose bumps rose on every inch of her skin, and it was only then that he allowed himself the indulgence of drinking her in, savouring her exquisite taste with every slow stroke of his tongue as she moved her hips in rhythm with his mouth until she begged him to be inside her.

  Standing, he took a swig from the bottle of red wine beside the bed and then climbed on top of her. He rested the tip of his cock against her pulsing heaven. Holding one of her hands so it was stretched out behind her head, he cupped her face, then slid in gradually until he was deep inside her. He stopped to trickle some wine into her open mouth before kissing her longingly, whispering how much he loved her. Summer cried out as she pushed herself into him and wrapped her legs around his waist, her body now at one with his as she squeezed him and gasped for breath. They lay there, not moving as they held each other’s eyes, unspoken love passing between them through their intimate touch. Their lips met once again and they kissed deeper than they’d ever kissed before, as if trying to dive into each other’s souls. Dean moaned in rapture. This was love.

  Unable to resist the intense craving any longer, they moved in unison, each stroke sending them beyond the realm of reality. Their movements became faster, their breathing more laboured, as they reached the tip of the summit together, tumbling over the edge in each other’s arms as their bodies tingled, pulsed and quivered. Still inside her, Dean rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Embracing her tightly, he enjoyed the feeling of her body on his, of her uneven breath on his neck as she tried to catch it.

  Summer raised her head to look at him, a beautiful smile on her kissable lips. ‘Where did you come from, Dean Lockwood? And how in the hell was I lucky enough to find you?’

  Dean smiled back at her while pushing a strand of hair from her face. ‘The same place you came from, Summer. And we found each other because we were together in our past lives – we are meant to be together in this one, and we will be together in all the ones after this too.’

  Summer shook her head slowly, her eyes filling with happy tears. ‘That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. I love you, baby, always have and always will.’

  Dean brushed a kiss over her lips as he wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘I love you too, Summer. I’ve always loved you, even before I found you, and I will never stop loving you in this lifetime, and into the next.’

  Collapsing onto him, Summer nuzzled her face into his neck as she breathed in his manly scent, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her. She had been right from the very start. Dean Lockwood was her everything and she was his, and now they had a beautiful little boy to share their lives with. True love had conquered all. Closing her eyes, she felt her body relax as she began to drift into sleep, her heart resting against Dean’s as they beat as one.

  Keep reading for an excerpt of a new title from

  Driftwood by Mandy Magro

  MANDY MAGRO

  A bushranger’s secret, a father’s hope, a daughter’s dreams — three lives collide in Driftwood.

  To Taylor Whitworth, knowing that she’ll never meet her dead biological father is devastating. All she knows is he was a stockman, so she yearns to be like her father…and to become a jillaroo. So she packs her bags and hits the road, destination unknown, until she happens upon the country township of Driftwood.

  Life-burdened Jay Cooper is a cowboy through and through, his passion for the outback and bad boy image inherited from his forefathers. The whole town whispers about him but Jay doesn’t care. Except his rough and tumble lifestyle is stopped dead in its tracks when he happens across Taylor on a deserted country road. And soon, their mutual love of horses begins a wonderful friendship that develops when Jay offers Taylor a job as a jillaroo on his cattle station.

  When the bushranger heritage of a family explodes into modern day, buried secrets are unearthed…with lasting consequences.

  ‘Mandy writes great stories… sexy and uniquely Australian!

  What more do you need?’

  — Australian country music legend, Adam Brand

  CHAPTER

  1

  1861 — Goldbury Township, New South Wales

  The joyous rumble of a drunken get-together filtered up through the rickety floorboards of twenty-three-year-old Anne Margaret Willows’ bedroom. The landlady of the Goldbury Hotel leant on the windowsill, clutching a thin cotton sheet around her curvaceous, unclothed body and listened to the distinct sound of the old piano blending harmoniously with the upbeat strum of a banjo. The hardworking diggers and the women they had chosen for the evening joined a chorus of merry song. A substantial-sized nugget had been found in the neighbouring goldfields and that was cause for celebration. It was a promise of fortunes to be discovered and refuelled the hope that had diminished over time as the men struggled to survive on rations of damper, mutton and tea.

  A high-pitched giggle carried beneath the closed door of the dimly lit room followed by fading laughter and heavy footsteps that vanished down the long hallway. The slam of a door was soon followed by the rhythmic thump of an iron bedhead against a wall.

  Relishing the wisp of a cool evening breeze as it refreshed her still flushed skin, Anne gently chewed her bottom lip and watched William Campbell pull on his moleskins then run his hands through his sandy brown hair, his muscular body making her want to ravish him yet again. Whatever was she thinking, falling for the likes of him? It was just asking for trouble. Though she had to silently admit that his wayward image made it even more thrilling for her to be consorting with him.

  William turned to face her, a satisfied grin curling his full, firm lips. The flickering light from the kerosene lantern accentuated his rugged features, and his dark chocolate eyes speckled with gold captured her, stealing her breath. He pulled his shirt free from the back of a stool and shrugged it onto his broad shoulders as he picked his pistol up from the dressing table and pushed it into the leather holster at his waist. He sauntered towards her and cupped her face with his strong hands, his lips meeting hers once again, making her legs buckle beneath her. She let the sheet fall and her tingling body pressed into his. She moaned softly, all of her responding to him as he unclipped her hair, the long ringlets fluttering free and cascading down her back. She breathed in his scent, a mixture of manliness, horse, gunpowder and leather. It was enough to make her ache uncontrollably for him, craving his delicious mouth upon her pale English skin once more. The heights of pleasure he bestowed on her were an addiction she would never be free of.

  A melodious whistle from the dusty street below captured their attention and they reluctantly untwined from each other. Anne gathered the sheet to her breast as they peered out the window in search of William’s comrades. The three men were untying their horses from the hitching rail out the front of the Goldbury Hotel,
ready for a quick getaway. Anne’s heart sank. The time had come again. She had to say goodbye. Be strong, don’t cry this time. It only upsets Will more.

  The whistle warned that the traps were riding back into town, returning from the neighbouring settlement of Kilmaroy. Which meant William would have to make a break for it into the dense scrublands beyond Goldbury. A man could remain hidden for as long as he liked out there; the land was vast, untamed, unforgiving — but William thrived in it. The bush was where his spirit was truly alive and it was one of the many traits that had attracted Anne to him from the beginning — they shared an immeasurable love for the countryside.

  William held her gaze, his eyes piercing. ‘I love you so much, Anne. And I’m sorry this visit was fleeting. But one day I’ll give you all that you deserve, all that you’ve ever dreamed of: our very own cattle property up north, by the sea. Then, with the freedom that comes with that, even wild horses won’t be able to drag me away from you …’ He ran his fingers over her parted lips. ‘We will name it Waratah, after your favourite tree, the one with a blossom that matches the fiery colour of your hair and spirit.’ His lips twitched into a faint smile. ‘You have my word.’

  Anne nodded as warm tears trickled down her cheeks. She curtly wiped them away, straightened her back and gripped the sheet around her tighter, the immense inner strength she usually exuded abandoning her in William’s presence. ‘I love you, too, Will. I just wish our lives could be different so we didn’t have to be away from each other all the time.’ She blinked a few times, sniffling. ‘It’s so hard, particularly when the sergeant keeps making his feelings for me known. I find it difficult to tolerate his company, especially after what he has done to you, the repulsive man.’ Hesitantly stepping away from William as he did the buttons up on his shirt, Anne sat down on the edge of her bed, and sighed despairingly. ‘But I cannot ban him from the hotel. He is above the law, as he has well proven to us. However, I know you are a man of your word, so I will hold your promise close to my heart. Always.’

  William gritted his teeth, his jaw twitching. ‘That trap will be sorry if he ever lays a hand on you. I’m not one for taking a life — I’m not, God — but if it came to it, if he hurt you, I wouldn’t hesitate.’ He pulled on his boots then grabbed his wide-brimmed hat, allowing himself a small smile as he tenderly tilted Anne’s chin upwards. ‘See you again soon my darling Anne.’

  Placing a final lingering kiss on her lips, William clambered out the bedroom window and jumped the ten feet to the ground. Anne moved to the window and watched sombrely as he effortlessly mounted his horse, her eyes locking briefly with his as he glanced back at her. Then, with a sharp flick of the reins, William and his men rode past the blacksmith’s and towards the outskirts of town, their silhouettes fading into the darkness as they galloped away, the horses’ hooves thunderous upon the hard dirt road. She had no idea when she would see him again — a day, a week, a month, or three months? It depended on whether the police were in town; more often than not, they were.

  She huffed. Damn the traps! They had no right hunting him down in the first place. In her eyes, William Campbell was no criminal; he was a decent, generous soul who had been dealt a low blow and was now driven to steal from the rich in order to survive. To make matters worse, it was all because of her. Will only stole from those who made their fortune at the peril of others and shared his gains among the less fortunate. His kind spirit was never greedy, and his greatest satisfaction came from seeing the unlucky with food on the tables. Anne couldn’t help but admire him. William had somehow succeeded in living by a moral code in a world that didn’t have many moral codes at all.

  After a year of clandestine interludes, she still found herself falling deeper for William every time they were reunited. And no matter how hard she fought to ignore her feelings, she would be a fool to deny that she was madly in love with Wild Will, the wanted bushranger. She had passed the point of no return. William Campbell had not only stolen from the rich, he had also stolen her heart.

  Anne’s thoughts crashed back to when William was a successful farmer, a man who prided himself on his honest living, and how that was all taken away from him one fateful day — the day the sergeant had learnt of her fondness for William. In an unjustified jealous rage, Sergeant Hocking retaliated by laying blame on William for a crime he had never committed: the heinous murder of an entire family, including a six-month-old baby. The motive behind the killings was said to be greed, as the family was one of the wealthiest in the area, owners of a substantial amount of real estate in Goldbury and back in England. But even after an extensive search by the police, the jewels and money that had been stolen had never been recovered; the true killer had obviously made sure the evidence was well hidden.

  Anne knew William was not capable of taking a child’s life. A man’s life maybe, if he was driven to it, but unquestionably not a child’s. However, for some of the Goldbury townsfolk, the ones who didn’t know William’s kind-hearted character, it was a completely different story. They rallied behind Hocking, calling for Will to be hanged, labelling him a cold-blooded murderer. It sickened Anne, and she was determined to clear William’s name by finding the real killer. She had her suspicions but not enough evidence to point the finger. Yet.

  When the traps arrested William they had used terrible force, leaving him bloodied, bruised and almost lifeless. They burnt down his house and locked all his cattle and horses in the stockyards without water. William had remained in jail for three long weeks as he waited to be hanged, knowing the entire time that his beloved cattle and horses were dying a long, painful and cruel death. Anne knew the agony of losing his livestock to such remorseless slaughter had been the turning point for William, the deciding factor that had made him seek revenge by becoming a bushranger.

  Sliding her back down the wall, Anne hugged her knees to her chest as she pondered a life up north with William. She had always dreamed of moving there. It would be glorious and they would be free of all of this misery, of living in a place governed by lawless authorities. She could wake up beside William every day, have his beautiful children, and be a good wife by happily tending to his needs. They could take long walks along the beach together, hand in hand, marvelling at how wonderful their lives had become. It would be absolute heaven. But was it ever going to become her reality? Would William evade being arrested long enough to come good on his word? Would he live long enough to keep his promise? For, as she was only too aware, there was no such thing as an old bushranger. She had to believe him, had to believe he would find a way to make their dreams come true, for it was all that kept her going in this godforsaken place.

  CHAPTER

  2

  2012 — Far North Queensland

  Approaching the first T-junction she’d seen for over an hour, Taylor Whitworth eased off the accelerator of her Jeep Wrangler, paprika-coloured dust trailing out behind her as far as the eye could see. The dust had even found a way inside, speckles of it clinging to nearly every part of the interior.

  Squinting through her windscreen, Taylor tried to read the road sign that was now shadowed by a radiant setting sun. The vast countryside she was driving through was glorious, exactly what she’d yearned for, but she found it hard to fully appreciate, conscious of the fact night was fast approaching and her fuel light had been glowing orange for the past half-hour. The likelihood of a servo being nearby was slim considering the empty surroundings. Shit! She should have stopped at the fuel station she had sped past hours ago but being from the city, she had just assumed there would be another.

  With panic beginning to set in, Taylor took a few deep breaths while willing her usually logical mindset to take control. She had to find a township soon or she would end up running out of fuel, leaving her stranded in the middle of nowhere for the night. The very thought terrified her, and images of being eaten alive by a pack of hungry dingos or dying from a venomous snake bite consumed her. The brave young woman who had stormed out of her parents’ b
ay-side Brisbane home yesterday morning with only one bag of clothes and her treasured Fender acoustic guitar, threatening that she was never going to set foot in their house again, was long gone.

  What was she thinking, driving into the unknown? Letting her anger get the better of her, allowing it to cloud her usually cool, calm judgement? Being a typical Aries, she was an easygoing soul and it took a lot for her to get pissed off, but once she felt something or someone was worth fighting for, all hell could break loose. And yesterday at her family home, it had.

  Taylor took a look around her at the endless fields glowing with golden light from the setting sun. Where in the hell was she going? And what was she going to do when she got there? With fewer than five hundred bucks in her bank account she would have to find work quick smart. But what was she going to do if there was no work? Go crawling home with her tail between her legs? Not bloody likely!

  She smacked the steering wheel as she recalled the heated argument with her parents. What a mess her hot-headedness had gotten her into! Damn her cold-hearted stepfather for demanding she quit her stablehand job so she could go to medical school and follow in his footsteps. Damn her mum for agreeing with him. And damn her toffee-nosed younger stepsister for not standing up for her, as usual. Yes, her grades had been good enough to go to uni, but why couldn’t her parents allow her to follow her own dreams? Dreams of embracing her love for horses and becoming a jillaroo, of living in the country, of singing her country songs to people who would actually appreciate them, and finding herself a tall, sexy cowboy to fall madly in love with. Ahh, in a perfect world …