Obsession Down Under

by MACADAM, LAYNE

  Jessica’s mouth fell open. “I had no idea.” Her voice was shaky and soft, barely a whisper.

  “I’m not surprised. I’m sure Whip forgets he’s head of a conglomerate at times, he’s so wrapped up in Highland Glen and the breeding program. Anyway, enough of that, let’s hit the road.”

  Jessica picked up her handbag and followed Annie out to the car, her mind in a whirl.

  The drive was smooth and the conversation pleasant. When they arrived in the town, Jessica was delighted. It was as if she’d stepped back in time. Significant in its absence was a big shopping mall. Instead, there were streets of charming little shops, trendy cafés, a couple of arcades, and a general store. Annie explained that whatever you could get in the big city stores you could get here, and if what you were after wasn’t on shelf, then they’d order it in.

  Annie was a familiar figure about town, and it seemed like she was acquainted with every passerby. They were forever pausing to greet friends and neighbors, and Jessica’s head was swimming with names.

  The remainder of the morning whizzed by in a blur. Annie had acquired an armful of purchases and by one p.m. they were both footsore, and agreed it was time to eat.

  No sooner had they sat down at a sidewalk café than a sleek, well groomed, and perfectly coiffured blonde woman approached.

  “Annie, hi, I thought that was you. It’s so good to see you. You look amazing.”

  Annie sprang up and wrapped the blonde in her arms. “Donna, it’s wonderful to see you, too. I only just heard you were back.”

  “I flew in the day before yesterday, but how are you? And how’s that sexy husband of yours and his gorgeous twin?” Donna’s face lit up and her cheeks dimpled.

  “No complaints. We’re all fine and anxious to catch up and hear all about England. Seriously, I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

  “Whip did try to persuade me to wait another couple of weeks before flying home, but once I’d made up my mind there was no stopping me. I can’t tell you how good it is to be back. Catching up with the cousins in London was great, and university was a hoot, but England was so cold and dreary, I didn’t thaw out the entire time I was there.”

  Donna’s voice was sweet with a musical lilt, and her glossed lips parted to reveal perfect white teeth. The kind of girl that made heads turn, and Jessica thought she was well aware of her appeal.

  “I’m Donna Macklin, of the stock and station Macklin’s, you know, the store opposite the library.”

  Jessica took the hand Donna offered and smiled. “I’m Jessica,” she said, not elaborating. “It’s nice to meet you.” Annie and she had picked up some supplies at Macklin’s earlier that morning. It was more than just a store. The place took up half the block.

  Donna didn’t wait for permission but parked her butt in the seat opposite Annie. The Louis Vuitton handbag hanging from her shoulder she dropped onto the seat opposite.

  “Oh, you’re American, how nice. Are you enjoying your visit?”

  Jessica tried to sum her up, but her expression remained hidden behind enormous black Prada sunglasses. “Yes, very much. I love it here. It’s quite a contrast to New York.”

  “My word, like chalk and cheese, I’d say. Where are you staying?”

  “Highland Glen. Jessica’s here at Whip’s invitation,” Annie answered before Jessica had a chance to draw breath.

  Donna whipped off her glasses and straightened in her chair. Topaz eyes stretched wide and her lips separated before her fixed smile slid back into place. “Oh, really, at the homestead?”

  “Ah-ha, that’s right.” Jessica adjusted her posture, back straight, chest thrust out.

  “So you’re here on business, to do with Highland Glen’s breeding program? I must say, you don’t look the type.” The tone held no malice, but the words made her feel like Whip could not possibly be interested in her for any other reason.

  She flicked back her hair and projected her voice. “No, it’s a pleasure trip pure and simple, and you’re right, I know nothing about cows, breeding or otherwise,” she finished with a tight smile. If Donna was being malicious, she could take that however she liked.

  “Really? Um, well, how nice for you. Enjoy your stay and be sure and give Whip my love.”

  “Oh we will, but we’re about to have lunch. Can you join us?” Annie took control.

  “I’d love to, but I’ve got a million things to do.” Donna stood and gathered her bag. “I’ll take a rain check.” She bent and kissed Annie on the cheek and then turned to her. “It was nice meeting you Jessica, I hope we see each other again.”

  “It was nice to meet you, too.” Her reply held no warmth. She’d no desire to meet the other woman again and couldn’t help but think that the two week delay Donna hinted, Whip insisted on, coincided with her own departure.

  “I wonder why Whip never mentioned he and Donna were in touch,” Annie mused out loud. “They used to be pretty tight once upon a time. We all expected to hear wedding bells, but then the next we knew, Donna was on a plane to complete her degree in England, and Whip was moping around like a lost puppy.”

  Jessica was intrigued. The nosey parker part of her personality was itching to know the details, but her strict upbringing as a minister’s daughter decreed it was too impolite to ask.

  When their meals arrived, she was still mulling over Donna’s comment about Whip. There was probably a logical reason he’d wanted to delay Donna’s arrival into the country that had nothing whatsoever to do with her. Yeah, sure.

  Annie leaned over the plate the waitress had just placed before her and inhaled. “This looks and smells amazing.”

  “Mmm, it sure does.” She picked up her cutlery and started to eat.

  “I’ve never had a disappointing meal here yet.”

  “So what’s next on the agenda?” Jessica pushed thoughts of Whip and Donna aside and savored the gourmet food instead.

  “I’ve two more stops to make and then I’m done. So it’s back to the homestead, unless you’ve got something specific you’d like to do?”

  “No, I’ve done all I need to.”

  At the end of the meal, Annie told the waitress to charge it to Highland Glen. Jessica forestalled her. “No, Annie, this is my treat.”

  “But . . .”

  “No buts, I insist.” She took out a few notes from her purse and handed them to the waitress.

  “That wasn’t necessary, Jessica, but thanks, I appreciate it.” Annie patted her shoulder and then got to her feet.

  “I’ve already accepted so much McGregor hospitality, it’s the least I could do.” Jessica followed Annie to their next port of call.

  It was little more than forty minutes later until they were back in the car and on the road home.

  In the comfortable silence Jessica’s thoughts turned to Donna and Whip. Should she quiz him? Or just let it slide?

  Early mornings, full days, and blissful nights, became the pattern that was Jessica’s holiday. Early to bed and early to rise was the credo Whip lived by. He worked hard but at the day’s end he was always eager to get to bed and make love. Sometimes it was wild and frenzied monkey sex, and at others it was gentle, slow, and soothing. She worried about slipping away early each evening, leaving Drew and Mark to their own devices. She believed it was rude, but Whip brushed her concerns aside, arguing if the situation was reversed the guys would do the exact same thing, and they’d be fools if they didn’t.

  Each day was a dream come true, and Jessica thanked God and her lucky stars that she had been given the opportunity to take this journey. And although the days were full, work had never seemed less like work. There was something new and interesting to do each day. The shopping trip with Annie had been a nice diversion, and she decided not to bring up Donna—what Whip and Donna had in the past was none
of her business.

  Whip was great, too, in that he set a couple of hours aside each day to give her riding lessons, and she could now canter across the paddocks with the best of them. She’d also been out on the back of the bike with Mark and Drew a couple of times helping out.

  Today, Whip was busy with paperwork all afternoon, so she’d opted to accompany Mark, checking stock and cruising the boundaries for any breaks in the fencing.

  They’d just finished for the day and were about to get on the bike and head for home when Mark suggested she have a go at riding solo.

  “No, I don’t think so.” It really wasn’t her thing, and to be truthful she was a bit of a chicken.

  But then he dared her.

  Without pause or thought, she threw one denim-clad leg over the seat and caution to the wind.

  “You’re on, buddy,” she cried with more bravado than brains. Heck, she’d never done anything like this before. A product of her upbringing, she’d always played it safe, but coming to Australia and having this interlude with Whip was the beginning of her adventure, and this was just another step along the path of her new and more exciting life.

  “That’s the spirit.”

  After a few instructions from Mark, she turned the key and the engine kicked over.

  “Give it some throttle,” he called.

  “Okay.” She moved her hand and obeyed, and the bike fired. “Where’s the brake?” she screamed as it took off across the paddock as if it was in control.

  Definitely not one of her brighter ideas.

  Her feet dragged in the dirt. With a sharp intake of breath, she lifted them to the footrests while trying to steer the machine in a straight line. Not easy for a novice. The back wheel kicked out, and the bike wobbled over the uneven surface, giving her quite a scare before she managed to right it. Fear ebbed and excitement peaked. She steered to the right, intending to circle Mark.

  “You’re doing great, but open it up a bit or you’ll stall,” he shouted as the engine began to splutter.

  “Okay,” she called back, feeling cocky, and turning the throttle gave it more juice. But it seemed the throttle had a hair trigger, and the bike responded with grunt and shot off like a rocket. With a loud yelp and a twist of the handlebars she fought to keep control but over-steered, causing the bike to fishtail.

  Heart pounding, she struggled to get it under control and had almost succeeded when the front wheel hit a hole. Like some kind of acrobatic misfit she went sailing over the handlebars, tumbling and bouncing a few times before landing in a disheveled heap.

  “Holy hell, Jessica!”

  Mark’s shout came from a distance and held panic. With the wind knocked out of her lungs, she lay on the patchy ground, conscious but unable to answer. The most she could manage was a lame wave to allay Mark’s fears as his quick footfalls thundered across the paddock toward her.

  For the briefest moment she feared suffocation. Now she lay on her back blinking up at a blue sky as her breathing began to normalize.

  Mark dropped to his knees beside her. “Just lie still, and tell me where you’re hurt,” he instructed, running his broad hands up and down her limbs.

  “I think I’m okay.” With eyes watering, she propped herself up on an elbow. Her arm and shoulder ached like the dickens, and damn, she’d ripped her shirt, but other than that she was in one piece.

  “Nothing appears broken, thank God. You’ve hit your cheek, and got a nasty graze on your arm, and hell, is my arse going to be grass when Whip finds out.”

  “Stop fussing, I’m okay, but what about the bike?”

  “Forget the bike, Jess, you’re what matters here. I’ll nick back to the homestead and get the Ute.”

  “Don’t be silly, I’m fine, seriously. I just feel like such a dork.”

  “Damn, Jess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dared you. It was a dumb arse thing to do. You could have broken your neck.”

  She sat up and sent what she hoped was a reassuring smile his way. “But I didn’t, and I’m okay, so I’m not going to cool my heels here while you rush home for the Ute. Now help me to my feet, and if the bike’s able to be ridden, I’ll get on behind you.”

  “Sit there and catch your breath while I check out the damage, there’s no rush.”

  Jessica was happy to comply. She drew her knees up and rubbed her thighs. Her limbs ached, but it could have been much worse, and for once she was glad of the extra padding around her butt.

  Her sight was glued to Mark’s back as he walked over to the bike and assessed the damage.

  “It’s not bad at all, really. Just a couple of scrapes and dents,” he said, wheeling it over to where she still sat after landing on the only patch of rubble in the entire paddock.

  “There’s no structural damage that I can see. It will be dark soon, so if you’re game we’ll make a move.”

  Mark reached for her hand and helped her to her feet. Her legs were a bit wobbly, so she leaned on his arm for support.

  The fall had shaken her up more than she let on. Mark threw his leg over the saddle. “Climb on, Jess.”

  Still feeling a bit unsteady, she crawled on behind and gripped his waist tight. No way was she going to risk another tumble.

  Mark turned and asked, “You ready?”

  When she nodded, he kicked down. The bike made a noise but didn’t fire. He kicked down again with the same result. She crossed her fingers and sent up a silent prayer that God answered when Mark kicked down for the third time.

  The trip back to the homestead was slow and easy. She was grateful they hadn’t been way out at the boundary when she took the spill. Mark was taking it steady, but she still felt every bump, dip, and hollow, and guessed she’d be pretty sore and bruised tomorrow. She also feared Whip’s reaction. Would he think her useless for being so clumsy? Then there was the matter of the repairs. She’d foot the bill, of course, that was only fair as she was the dolt who’d wrecked the bike. It would eat into her savings, but that couldn’t be helped.

  When they arrived at the homestead outbuildings, the afternoon sunlight was indeed fading. Mark didn’t go to the garage, but rode straight on up to the house, and for that she was grateful. Her body was now feeling mighty stiff and rather bruised, and the graze to her arm had developed quite a sting.

  As they rounded the barn and the big house came into view, they could see Whip and Drew sitting on the veranda enjoying a beer.

  Mark uttered a profanity under his breath.

  She patted his shoulder, hoping to set his mind at ease. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the damages.”

  “Hang the damages, that’s the least of my worries,” he replied, pulling the bike to a standstill and switching off the ignition.

  She loosened her grip as they both turned toward the two brothers on the porch.

  Whip grinned and lifted a hand in greeting. The instant his brain registered her disheveled appearance was obvious. The welcoming smile slid off his face and a thunderous scowl replaced it. His clear eyes hooded and darkened to gunmetal.

  “What the hell’s happened?” He glared at his brother, and springing up from his chair, thumped down the wooden stairs three at a time.

  “I’m okay, it’s not as bad as it looks,” she hastened to reassure. It was obvious Mark was in the proverbial knee-deep with his oldest brother, and it was about to get ugly.

  “I asked you a question, Mark.” Whip’s jaw clenched, his voice gravel rough but low. It seemed more menacing than if he’d shouted. His eyes were cold and harsh as a wintry day but softened to pearl when he turned to address her. “Jessie Rose, are you sure you’re okay?” He caught her by the waist and lifted her off the bike, examining her injuries as he did.

  “Yes, I’m fine. A few scratches and wounded pride perhaps, but it was my own silly faul
t.”

  “I’d hardly call that a scratch,” he said, pointing to the three-inch bloody laceration on her arm. Then taking her chin in his hand, he narrowed his eyes and examined her face. “Your cheek’s grazed and swollen too, so how did it happen?”