An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden

by Margaret Way

  If he couldn’t trust Chris it made no sense to marry her. The risk she would run again was too high. He saw clearly he mightn’t let her do it.

  Ben insisted on coming up to her door. Christine knew there wasn’t a small part of him that would represent a threat to her, but he literally wouldn’t go away. He wanted to have his say before he left the city. It was clear he genuinely thought giving up her glittering career, which she had hinted at, was one big mistake.

  At her door he touched her shoulder lightly. “One for the road?”

  “I’d rather we didn’t, Ben.”

  “You know you can trust me.”

  “I do trust you, Ben. You’re what my mother calls a gentleman.”

  “What do you call me?”

  “A good friend.”

  “Then let me in for a few moments, Chris,” he begged, with a little-boy-lost look Mitch definitely didn’t have. “If I could wrap my arms around you it would take away the pain. We should never have parted.”

  “We did, Ben, remember? And you’ve had quite a few affairs in between. So this isn’t a great idea.”

  He gave her a long, almost uncomprehending look. “It makes no difference if I tell you I still love you?”

  “Ben, our affair is behind us. It was good fun, but it couldn’t last.”

  “That was my stupid fault.” He dropped his head onto her shoulder, giving her the curious notion he’d done that very thing in his soap. “We were great together. How about one kiss before I go?”

  “I’d sooner not lead you into temptation.” She couldn’t help smiling.

  “One weeniest little kiss for old times’ sake?”

  “No.”

  “No? Once it used to be yes.” He straightened, taking her face tenderly in his hands. “Short and sweet?” But he just couldn’t keep to it, for all his honest intentions.

  Mitch came out of a light drowse to hear voices at the door. Chris, unmistakably, and a man with a very definite American accent. Ben Savage. He had an eerie feeling of heightened awareness. The big question was: would Christine dismiss Savage at the door?

  Several moments elapsed and they were still out there, but doing what? Mitch intended to find out. Savage was obviously as obsessively in love with Christine as he was. He stood up purposefully, raking a hand through his hair as he walked to the foyer. He didn’t particularly want to startle Chris, even if she was living on the edge in a promiscuous kind of life. He didn’t mind giving Savage a fright though.

  God, was that a moan? If she was moaning, with all that entailed, things would never be the same.

  Feeling no guilt at all, Mitch threw open the door, catching the two people outside—man and woman locked in a passionate embrace.

  He was so angry it might come to violence. “At least I now know you two are an item,” he said in a voice so cold it appeared to affect Savage more than any seething rage.

  “Mitch!” Christine broke away. In her sapphire eyes he saw a painful mix of embarrassment and—incredibly— pleasure to see him.

  How bizarre! “Chrissy, darling, how are you? There are just no words to describe how I feel at this moment.”

  Christine felt the icy chill. It swept from her ankles to her head. “Kyall gave you a key?”

  “He’s nothing if not my best friend. And you’re Ben, of course. I’m absolutely riveted by our resemblance.”

  “Do you know? So am I.” Ben stared at him. “So you’re Chris’s Mitch. I’ve heard so much about you.” Ben, the experienced actor, found a charming smile even when he was seriously panicked. This guy looked like one tough Aussie.

  “Oh? What have you heard?” Mitch glanced from one to the other, eyes glittering.

  Christine quickly put herself between the two men. Mitch was taller, rangier, with a steel in him she knew Ben the playboy didn’t have. Side by side there were very marked differences. “Ben was just saying goodnight, Mitch.”

  “Yes, time to go.” Ben felt incredibly awkward, but tried hard to keep it all together. He wasn’t looking for a fight. Not with this guy. “Great to meet you, Mitch. You’re a lucky man. Keep in touch, Chris.” He blew her a kiss as he hotfooted it away.

  “Thanks for bringing me home, Ben.”

  “A pleasure. Be good.” Ben made such a dash for the lift one would have thought Mitch was in hot pursuit. Mercifully for all, it was already at the top floor. He disappeared with another quick wave of his hand.

  “I thought you had to be sixteen to leave a man with a kiss outside the door,” Mitch said in a hard, judgmental voice. “I was waiting for you to invite him in.”

  “Hey, he was leaving.” Christine feared an explosion of tension.

  “Just a bit embarrassing, don’t you think?” He was angry, though fierce splinters of desire pressed into his flesh.

  “You weren’t supposed to be here for a couple of days.” She tried to head him off.

  “As it turns out it was a good time to catch you out.”

  “Catch me out? Oh, really!” She spun on her heel, her long silk chiffon skirt floating around her legs.

  “Well, didn’t I?” He followed her, turbulence, anger, desire all mixed up together. There were too many disturbing memories in his mind.

  “Ben was kissing me goodbye.”

  “I didn’t think he was giving you mouth to mouth resuscitation. It’s a bit rich, inviting me here, Chrissy, keeping me forever on a string, while you have Savage on the side.”

  “Except that’s not the case,” she said fierily. “I love you.”

  “Yeah! I remember you said that once before.” He didn’t hide his disgust. “You’re just sowing all your wild oats before you get married?”

  Her beautiful hair had such volume it framed her face like a thick cloud. “Look, Ben and I were over ages ago. I still like him. He’s still my friend.”

  “And it’s normal to have sex with your friends?” Bitter disillusionment consumed him.

  “Mitch, I really do think your jealousy has you unhinged.”

  “Absolutely.” He gave a brief laugh. “I don’t like your giving Savage the green light. Not when you’d convinced me you were ready to settle down.”

  “For God’s sake, Mitch, I wasn’t committing adultery!” Her own voice turned hard. “It was just a kiss.”

  “If only I could swallow that. Sorry, Chrissy, I can’t. It looked terribly involved.” He swung away from her. Her beautiful face, her beautiful body. Those were a woman’s weapons.

  “What are you doing?” She rushed after him, grabbing his sleeve.

  “I’m going. It’s my turn to do a runner.”

  After all this time he’d still never forgive her. “Please don’t go, Mitch,” she begged. “Please. We can get past this. It’s nothing.”

  “I’m sorry.” He shook her off. “I prefer faithful women.”

  “While you’ve had relationships with at least half a dozen women since I’ve been gone,” she countered with some tartness. “What about that little vixen, Amanda Logan?”

  “Spoken by the woman who thinks nothing of two-timing me.”

  “Aren’t you just leaping to conclusions? Surely you don’t really think I wanted Ben to kiss me?”

  “You were fighting him off, right?”

  “He just got carried away.”

  “That’s for sure.” Mitch didn’t attempt to hide his contempt.

  “I love you, Mitch. Can’t you get it through your thick head?”

  “Apparently not.” He gave her a little push away from him, furious he still wanted her so badly.

  “Ben would have been upset if we hadn’t parted friends.”

  “God!” He exploded. “Cut it out! I bet he’s been kissing you the whole bloody time he’s been here.”

  “Mitch—please.” She couldn’t mishandle this one. “Just because Ben got carried away tonight, it doesn’t mean I did.”

  “You were just pretending to like it? Could you please take your hand off my arm?”

 
; “No.” She met the blue dazzle of his eyes. “You owe it to me to calm down and listen.”

  “It’s not like that, Chrissy.” Almost gently he removed her hand. “I owe you nothing.”

  “So, it’s very much a conditional love?” She stared at him with burning intensity.

  “I haven’t got your capacity for sharing.”

  “You know your trouble, Mitch? You’re emotionally damaged.”

  “I may finally be over it.

  The resolution in his face put her in turmoil. She flew after him as he stalked to the door. “Why are we fighting? I wasn’t counting on anything like this.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “I love you, Mitch,” she said emotionally, clinging to his back. “I can’t see life without you.”

  “Stop that.” God, he couldn’t bear it. The lies, the longing. It tortured him.

  “Stop what? This is all a horrible mistake.” She locked her arms around him. “Please don’t do this, Mitch. I love you. We can’t destroy what we’ve got.”

  That was when he started going crazy. He was obsessively in love with her—drawn by her beauty and charisma since they were kids together. But surely the insanity had to end? Tonight he had intended to ask her to marry him. He had the engagement ring in his breast pocket. He could feel it press against his heart.

  “Let go, Chris!” Eerily, her trying to hold onto him heightened the intoxication.

  “No, not when we have a chance.” She threw up her head, her eyes a smouldering sapphire-blue. The exact colour of the central precious stone in the ring he’d intended to give her.

  “Why pretend, Chris? What’s the point of it? You can’t really explain why Savage was here. I was at the parade tonight—”

  “You weren’t! Why didn’t you come backstage to see me? I’d have been thrilled.”

  Something in her voice caught him off-guard. The unmistakable ring of truth. “I did come backstage, as it happens. But you and Savage had already left for the party.”

  “You could have followed. You’re a friend of mine—”

  “A friend?” he exploded. “I had dreams, Christine. You ruined them.”

  “Which is the more powerful emotion, Mitch? Love or jealousy?”

  “I would have to say, in my case, jealousy. I’m not proud of it, but there you are. Would you mind taking your long, pretty fingers off my arm?”

  “No, I won’t. You have to see sense. You’re as stubborn as a mule. You always were. But we have to talk about this, Mitch.”

  “We can’t. I’m not a complete fool. You and Savage are lovers. If I hadn’t suddenly appeared he’d be in your bed by now.”

  “Go on—do what you do best!” She launched at him, striking his chest with her fist. “Damage our lives. I don’t need that look of disgust either. You’re just plain paranoid. Ben and I had a relationship—it had a lot to do with his resemblance to you—”

  “Kinky, wouldn’t you say?” He caught her wrist and held it.

  “Probably. I used to imagine he was you, which was terribly unfair to Ben. We split up. There was nothing deep to sustain us. I always wanted to come home.”

  “Forget all that!” he warned. “I saw Savage looking at you. I saw the way he was kissing you. It’s far from over with him.”

  “Who cares? Ben has a tendency to want the woman he can’t get.”

  “Hell, you don’t have to explain something like that to me. You were going to give yourself to Savage and we both know it.”

  “Give him a kiss? Yes, damn it, I was. Is that what you want me to say?”

  All of a sudden she was crying, while he stood there, his anger turning to shock and dismay. Chris had never cried—even when she took nasty spills. “Chris?” he said tentatively.

  “Shut up. I’ve had just about enough of you, Mitch Claydon.” She spun away as her tears started to flow in earnest. “What compels you to distrust me? Is it ever going to end? So it was unfortunate Ben was here. Sometimes he’s un-stoppable, but he’s harmless. I tell you I love you, but that’s not enough. You want to keep at it and at it. I never knew you were so cruel.”

  “I guess I must be.” He was astonished at the intensity and the nature of his warring emotions. Why, in his dealings with Christine, was there always this mad reversal? He was recoiling even as he wanted to comfort her, to take her into his arms and kiss her tears away. He couldn’t begin to understand the depth and power of her hold over him.

  In her effort to distance herself from him Christine caught her high heel in the hem of her beautiful deep turquoise gown.

  “Damn, damn, damn!” She struggled to free it, the pendant earrings she wore swinging wildly against her heated cheeks.

  “Chris—let me.”

  “Go away,” she flashed. “Go back to Marjimba and that devious little Amanda.”

  “Sorry. I can’t.” He managed to lay a hand on her bare, silky shoulder, but she tore away furiously, keeping her face averted so he wouldn’t see her tears.

  It wasn’t something he could explain to himself. It just was. He went after her, hauling her into his arms. She wouldn’t let him hold her but he did all the same, easily subduing her struggles though she was strong and athletic.

  “Steady, steady!” He might have been talking to a high-spirited filly.

  “Go to hell!”

  “Without you, I’m there.” He pressed her body in the beautiful dress to him.

  Immediately he was trapped by desire, urgent cravings, aware she was trembling and yet unable to disguise their magnetic attraction. She tilted her body back slightly, looking up at him with passionate defiance in her eyes. “Go ahead. Give way to your anger. I give you permission.”

  “To do what?” He moved his hand up to her slender nape, hidden beneath her wealth of hair. He clutched it, holding her face to him.

  “Do what you like. I don’t give a damn!”

  “I think I might get that dress off you first.”

  She made no response, though her breathing picked up dramatically. He could see the rise and fall of her perfect deep breasts through the sheer material. “I swear to you, Mitch—”

  “Go ahead.” She was so beautiful it blinded him. Her hair was like a dark, wind-tossed storm around her face. He bent his head so his mouth captured hers. The pleasure was so voluptuous it loosened his knees. Her mouth had a distinctive taste, like citrus and honey.

  Here was the precipice. He had a choice. He could jump or step back. Only he might as well be lost in a bottomless abyss as live without Chris. The touch of her mouth, the play of her tongue filled him with leaping desire.

  “I love you.” Slowly, as though she was very unsure of what he might do, she lifted her hands to hold his face. “You’ve always been that special, unforgettable person in my life.”

  “So special you forgot all about me!” His single dimple flicked in and out with self-derision. “But you won’t forget this time, my love!”

  He’d made the choice. Now he jumped. His heart rose up into his throat, his veins saturated with the heat of passion. This was the way it always was with Chris.

  Could women cast a spell? Yes. Yes. Yes.

  He made her drop her hands while his mouth moved slowly, lingeringly, down over the so smooth skin of her face to the centre of his longing—her deep rose mouth, so plush and seductive. It was astonishing, his hunger for her. What was her price? Sapphires, diamonds, rubies, pearls? She was above them all.

  He kissed her until she couldn’t stand, until she didn’t know what she was doing or saying. He felt the answering excitement rage through her as she willingly assuaged the furious frustration and desire that was in him.

  For her height she was a lightweight. He had no trouble lifting her, carrying her down to the main bedroom he already knew she was occupying.

  Lying on top the silver-blue quilt, he studied her, this extraordinarily beautiful young woman.

  “Chrissy, I’m going to make love to you.” It
was the most inevitable thing in the world.

  The bedside lamps caught the bright golden sheen of his hair, his sea-blue eyes, the tension in him. “I want you to,” she said, clearly displaying the depth of her emotions. “Hold nothing back.”

  “I don’t want you to talk either.”

  “Because I might say the wrong thing?”

  “There’s no room for words.” Intently he found the long hidden zipper of her dress, pulling it down over her breasts. Her upper torso was immediately naked—she wore no bra—as he slid the exquisite gown down over her taut stomach, then down over her hips, the long lovely length of her legs. Everything in slow motion. Everything with care, while she shifted her body to allow the dress to come away from her.

  With the bedside lamps turned full on her she was perfection, her extended arms making stroking motions over the smooth shining surface of the coverlet. It struck him as incredibly erotic, increasing the level of longing that threatened to overcome him. His hand found the narrow ribbed band at the top of her blue satin briefs. She quivered in anticipation, taut as a bow.

  Neither of them spoke.

  When she was naked he stood and began removing his own clothes, his strong arms trembling when she rose from the bed and came behind him, laying her face against the bare skin of his back. As he had helped her, so she began to help him undress, the taut passion in their faces clearly visible.

  “What I feel for you will never change.” He turned to her, his mouth descending along her neck to her breast, the nipple erect, just as he wanted it. He could feel all the little jumping nerves, the muscles in her tight buttocks as he pressed her naked body to his. Her lovely long legs parted, gloriously yielding, as his hands moved over her.