'It's fashionable.'
Ignoring this, he continued studying her figure. 'You haven't lost all that in two days. I'd advise you to eat a good dinner.'
Tautly she retorted, 'I suppose it wouldn't do if I faded away before you had a chance to get your revenge?'
He didn't pretend not to understand. 'I said a lot of things in anger, Sherry, which I believe, in the circumstances, was permissible.'
'You're still angry.'
'Up to a point.'
'May I interrupt?' a sugary voice begged sweetly. Taking permission for granted, Dulcie Easten slipped a possessive hand through Scott's arm. 'I'm sorry I took so long, darling, but my make-up was smudged and knowing how you like perfection, I had to repair it. I've just come down and someone said it looked as though you and Miss Grant were having an argument and they prevailed on me to intervene. They seemed to imagine Miss Grant was getting the worst of it!'
It irritated Sherry intensely that this, was probably true, but she sensed that concern for Sherry Grant wasn't the real reason for Dulcie's intervention. She wasn't concerned, she was annoyed, and would be with any girl who appeared to be taking Scott's attention. Because of this, she said, deliberately provocative, 'Scott and I weren't arguing, Miss Easten. He was just making sure I was all right.'
Dulcie stabbed back in a way Sherry least expected. Glancing at Scott with an air of injured innocence, she exclaimed.
'Has this naughty child told you how she almost ran me off the road this morning, darling, just after I'd left here? She was driving some frightful vehicle, which I'm sure shouldn't have been on it. I mentioned it to Daddy and he's going to check. For her own good, of course,' she ended vaguely.
Scott frowned, clearly doing some quick thinking. 'What—vehicle?'
Sherry bit her lip. She would have liked to have avoided the question, but he was looking directly at her. 'I had to borrow Sam's runabout.'
'Who is Sam?' asked Dulcie quickly.
'Googon's foreman,' Scott replied absently, still looking at Sherry. 'Why had you to borrow Sam's car, Sherry?'
As Sherry again hesitated, Dulcie put in quickly, without giving her a chance, 'I don't know why she had to borrow a car, darling, but I can guess why she went to Bourke. I found her there, admiring the very dress I'm wearing now, in a shop window. Because she was so rude to me, darling, I beat her to it, believing she deserved a lesson.'
In amazement, Sherry suddenly realised the dress Dulcie had on was indeed the same dress she had been admiring. She remembered thinking a few minutes ago, when Dulcie had first appeared, that there was something vaguely familiar about her, but she hadn't recognised what it was. She felt a sense of pique more than anger as she realised that if the dress fitted Dulcie it would have been far too big for her anyway. She might almost have been amused by the other girl's air of victory if she hadn't been so conscious of how shabby she must look by comparison.
Dulcie was pirouetting playfully while Scott looked on in grim-lipped silence. It wasn't until she asked him outright what he thought of her that he said dryly he thought she was very smart.
Clearly not wholly satisfied with his answer, Dulcie turned to Sherry again. 'It's a shame you didn't manage to find something else, although that old thing you're wearing looks very nice.'
Sherry, flushing painfully at Dulcie's veiled insult, was relieved when dinner was announced. Scott was obviously furious that she might have seriously injured his girl-friend. She shivered as he stared at her harshly. It would be yet another crime he would consider the Grants had committed against him.
Much to her surprise he placed her next to him at dinner, clearly disconcerting Dulcie and Mrs Fox, as well as herself. Had they but known it, Scott had a reason for having Sherry near him.
'What were you doing in Bourke today?' he asked conversationally.
Carefully she laid down her soup spoon, so it didn't clatter on her plate. The chilled gazpacho soup was delicious with its sprinkling of herbs, but had suddenly lost its taste. He was trying to catch her off guard, she realised. 'I couldn't settle at home…'
Contemptuously he disregarded her halting explanation. 'Can't you do better than that?'
'Please, Scott,' she lifted shadowed blue eyes to him, aware this was only his opening shot, 'not here!'
'As you wish.' He stared at her for another long moment before turning abruptly to speak to someone across the table.
The weak relief Sherry felt at such an easy victory persisted until after they had finished eating, when he asked her to step into the study with him.
'I'd rather not.' She went three shades paler, knowing he wouldn't accept a second excuse. He wanted to berate her over endangering Dulcie and she didn't know how much more she could take. If she could put him off a little longer, he might forget. Frantically she glanced past her shoulder towards a group of people she had been with. 'I promised I'd have coffee with some of your guests,' she babbled. 'I've just been talking to Simon and Mary Armstrong and they asked me to join them specially. They're going to Europe and spending a week in London, and they're interested that I used to live there.'
'Ah, yes,' he mused, eyes glinting silver, 'this trip they're taking at the end of the month. So they intend picking your brains, do they? You must just have been a child when you lived there. Do you think you'll be able to remember anything of interest to grown-ups?'
Sherry knew he was deliberately taunting her and hid her resentment behind a tilted chin. 'I'm sure I shall.'
'Run along, then.' He appeared to dismiss her without noticeable regret, but it did nothing for her sense of relief when he added derisively, 'Perhaps we'd be wiser to postpone our little chat yet again, as I'll have more time later.'
'Oh!' Her eyes widened apprehensively.
Scott laughed dryly. 'You didn't think you were going to escape, did you?'
CHAPTER SEVEN
The evening dragged interminably. If she had had her own transport, Sherry would have gone home at midnight, but it was two hours later before Scott said goodbye to the last of his guests and they set out for Googon.
'I'm sure I could have got a lift,' Sherry protested, 'and saved you all this trouble.'
'They were all going the wrong way,' he pointed out reasonably, 'and it's no trouble.'
He didn't hurry. Sherry could have screamed as her nerves grew tighter and she suspected he was deliberately provoking the feeling of tension between them. When at last they reached Googon she breathed a sigh of relief which turned to alarm as she realised she was trapped in the car. The doors were electrically operated and he wouldn't let her out.
'I want a few answers to some simple questions first,' he said, before she could launch an appeal. 'I realise you must be tired, but there's nothing that should tax you unduly.'
His mild sarcasm wasn't reassuring and she looked away from him mutinously. Didn't he think he had done enough damage for one evening? The attention he had paid her at Coomarlee, which she had been unable to explain wasn't what it appeared to be, had evoked embarrassing remarks. If Scott had remained arrogantly indifferent to anything he might have overheard, Sherry had found it exhausting, parrying the supposedly discreet curiosity of his friends.
'I don't think we've anything to talk about,' she muttered fiercely.
Putting a hand under her chin, he turned the pale oval of her face towards him. 'That's better. I like to see your face when I'm talking to you. Now, where was L? Ah, yes, your trip to Bourke. You do get around!'
'So what?' she retorted rudely. 'Can't a girl go anywhere, these days, without arousing curiosity?'
'Not in this case,' he replied adamantly, his eyes narrowing at her tone. 'When I left you yesterday, you were dead beat and without transport. So what do you do? You borrow a car which is barely fit to use on the station and set out on a pleasure trip, because—how did you put it?—you couldn't settle at home.'
'I…' she licked dry lips with the tip of her tongue, but stopped as she saw him watching with interest. '
I wanted to see if I could find Kim,' she improvised hastily, wondering why she hadn't thought of it before.
Scott considered this for another narrow-eyed moment before appearing to accept it. 'You almost crashed into Dulcie.'
Sherry shrank from his returning anger. 'She was coming out of your section…'
'It doesn't matter what she was doing, Sherry. Don't you realise, if that matchbox contraption of Sam's really hit a vehicle as substantial as the one Dulcie was driving, it would fold up like a concertina!'
Thoroughly confused, Sherry exclaimed, 'I was taking care. Whose side are you on, anyway?'
'I'm not apportioning the blame,' he said severely, 'I'm merely advising caution, in future.' He paused, frowning, searching her face, the fragile, faintly aristocratic features, the straight nose, unsmiling mouth, brilliant blue eyes. 'Was it my invitation that drove you to Bourke? Were you really looking for a new dress?'
Once again she veered round the truth. 'I could do with one!'
Scott's mouth thinned. 'I'm not accusing you of extravagance. Certain things don't add up, that's all. You might have let Dulcie put you off, but there's more than one place in Bourke where you could have bought a dress. There again, after everything that's happened, I believe a new evening gown would have been the last thing on your mind.'
Why did she never allow for Scott's astuteness? 'Maybe I overreacted to the situation, owing to the number of shocks I'd had?'
He studied her veiled, shadowed eyes. 'I wonder?'
Sherry felt the blood drain from her cheeks and the tensing of her stomach muscles made her feel ill. Why was Scott bothering about what she had been doing in Bourke? He had talked of revenge, but surely that didn't include following her movements every minute of the day? Kim had gone for good—as soon as she had seen Dan Cleary and got everything sorted out, she would tell Scott so. Surely seeing her struggle to keep Googon viable would be revenge enough?
'Is the inquisition over, Mr Brady?' she asked.
'Scott!' he commanded tersely.
'I don't have to.'
Suddenly he seemed to come alive to the cool defiance of her tone and his mood swung savagely to taunt her. 'I could make you.'
'How?' she asked recklessly, allowing herself to be goaded.
He laughed. 'You're like a small volcano, aren't you? Always in a constant state of eruption. Come here!'
Terror shivered along her skin Her breath was rapid, aching in her lungs. 'No!'
He silenced her protest with a hard punishing kiss. Though she struggled against the imprisoning arms that slid round her, she made no more impression than a leaf fighting for survival in a whirlpool. Her eyes closed as his lips sought the warmth of her mouth and a hot, intolerable weakness swept through her. She felt so tired it was easier to give in than resist. Finding Scott's kisses disturbing but not objectionable, it was no great punishment having to endure them She was only worried that in his arms she might relax her guard and find herself confessing how much she was coming to care for him. Alarmed that this might happen, Sherry fought the inertia that gripped her and renewed her efforts to escape.
He was too close, however, and she had reckoned without his expertise. As he felt her resistance, as if mocking it, the pressure of his mouth increased and she soon discovered how weak and puny was her mind compared to the overriding desires of her body. As his mouth bruised with violence, she became lost to sensation, her lethargy disappearing as she became alive and vibrant in his arms. Her own arms slipped round his neck as she arched against him, while he wound his fingers through the tumbled masses of her hair, lifting her head back to allow his lips to blaze a devastating trail of fire along the creamy length of her throat.
It had happened before. The previous night when he had made love to her in the hotel, she had given in to his overwhelming demands. He had rendered her completely defenceless, then showed restraint. Now it must be her turn.
She tried to halt the increasing wildness of her response by putting her hands on his chest and pushing him away. 'Please, Scott,' she moaned, stiffening in resistance.
For a moment he held her against the hard pressure of his body, then as she gasped another entreaty, he let her go. His triumph must be complete, she thought miserably. Not only was she breathing his name over and over again, she was exhibiting an odd reluctance, when it came to it, to leave his arms.
'You'd better go in,' he said curtly, no apparent indication of victory on his hardening features as he turned from her to release the door lock.
'It's almost dawn,' she whispered, staring at the glow of light pushing over the horizon. The morning was suddenly alive With bird-song bursting into the breathless stillness. Sherry lifted her face to it as she got out the car, feeling the dampness of tears on her cheeks.
'Come along,' Scott said almost roughly, escorting her to the house. 'You should be able to get a few hours' sleep before you have to get up.'
Going inside, she closed the door. She didn't say goodnight or listen for him leaving, though she supposed he must have done. She got exactly two hours' sleep before her alarm went off, having been prudent enough to set it. When she woke she had an ache somewhere, but she hadn't time to locate it before starting breakfast. There was the day's work to discuss with Sam, along with other things. There was too much to do without having to worry about what was happening to her heart.
While Sam was eating breakfast, she asked for another loan of his runabout. She recalled Scott's warning, but what else could she do? She returned Sam's enquiring glance with some impatience. 'I told you I had to see Dan Cleary.'
Sam slowly shook his head. 'I think you must have damaged something yesterday, Sherry. I can't rightly figure it out, but she won't even start, this morning.'
'Won't start?'
'That's right.' Ignoring her wide-eyed dismay, Sam went on stoically eating lamb chops. 'It's probably not much, but none of us has any time to investigate the trouble right now.'
Sherry stared at him, feeling somehow suspicious. 'Your car mightn't be in the same class as a Rolls, Sam, but I'd say she wasn't far behind in performance.'
Sam looked embarrassed and kept his eyes on his breakfast. 'We all get hiccups occasionally.'
After he had gone, she fumed impotently. There was so much to do here and she had to get to Bourke. Getting to Bourke was marginally the more important, and if she had no transport she must try and get a lift.
She would ride as far as the main road and chance her luck.
It was nine o'clock when Sherry unsaddled her horse at the junction and sent her home. The road to Bourke stretched endlessly and she had to grit her teeth to keep going. She could see no sign of anything that looked remotely like a lift. There were plenty of flies and the odd kangaroo, but that was all. As soon as she could, she vowed angrily, she would write and tell Kim exactly what she thought of him! And whether they could afford it or not, while she was in Bourke she would see about another truck! She had been crazy to imagine she could manage without one.
She reckoned she must have covered several miles when Scott turned up. He approached from the opposite direction and stopped when she was level. His face was tight, his eyes icy. He had the look of a man sorely tried.
'What the devil are you up to now?' he snapped.
The sight of him, shirt open at the neck, exposing a lot of his powerful, hair-covered chest, made her already pounding heart race and also increased her temper.
'Mr Brady!' she exclaimed, her small face scarlet. 'One of the reasons I love Australia is because it's always seemed to offer more freedom than any other place, but now I'm not so sure, with you always sitting on my back!'
'Don't be so damned stupid!'
'That as well!' she cried furiously. 'Just because my brother got foolishly involved with your sister, I've no brains either!'
'Sherry!' Scott's voice indicated he was rapidly coming to the end of his patience. 'If you don't shut up and calm down I'll lay you over my knee. Where the hell are you goin
g?'
Not to be outdone, she cried, 'Mind your own damned business!'
'No hope,' he rasped. 'You're going to Bourke.'
'Is there anywhere else,' she snapped back, 'in this godforsaken land? Oh, no!' she almost wept, 'I didn't mean that. Yes, I am going to Bourke, and you can't stop me!'
'No, but I can take you.'
'You must have noticed,' she retorted sarcastically, 'you're going the wrong way.'
'I was looking for strays,' he replied coolly. 'It seems I've found one. Now get in!'
'Thank you, I'd rather not,' she refused, beginning to walk on.
'My God!' He was out of the car so fast she had to gasp. 'Sherry!' he thundered.
His fury should have stopped her in her tracks, but she didn't even pause. She hadn't dreamt he would so swiftly overtake her and snatch her up in his arms. He held her so tightly she was half suffocating against his chest when he threw her into the car.
'Sit there!' he barked. 'Don't dare move.'
Oddly enough, despite her former bravado, Sherry obeyed apprehensively. He crashed down beside her and she was lost in the furious glitter of his eyes. Her sheer indignation didn't escape him, but he took no notice. He seemed more interested in her appearance. His glance was insolent, perhaps to punish her, as it roamed over her body. He didn't miss her heaving breast, her tumbled hair, the wild anger in her face.
'One of these days…!' he gritted.
She didn't let him finish. 'I know, you'll strangle me. An eye for an eye…' 'That's not my way,' he retorted icily. 'Maybe not,' she replied. 'I didn't think you'd stoop to anything as human as revenge, but I feel you'd like to do something.'
'I'm human enough to have considered it,' he ground out, his hands digging into her shoulders. 'I don't doubt,' she shot back contrarily. 'But you'll probably settle for showing Googon a lack of neighbourly consideration. From now on, you'll ignore us, especially me.'
'So that is what I'm doing right now, is it?' he asked acidly. 'Inviting you to dinner last night was another form of pretending you don't exist?'
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