The B4 Leg

by Various

  “Sure is. So you haven’t been in love?”

  To her astonishment she answered truthfully. “Thought I was. But not for long.”

  “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  She believed in a storm of emotion. “Did you fall in love with your ex-wife on sight?” she countered. He probably had. Wonderful sparks right from the start. Something like she had experienced with him. Only they were sparks of sexual hostility.

  “I’d known Marigole since we were kids. But as for the legendary coup defoudre, that hasn’t hit me. Tell me about Justin.” He stooped to pluck another purple wildflower. “Is he in or out?” He straightened, pushing the flower into her abundant golden hair, then standing back to admire the effect. “No, don’t touch it,” he said, as she put up a tentative hand.

  “I was only going to tuck it in more firmly. I didn’t mean to throw away the last flower. It’s just that you have a way of rattling my cage.”

  “And it’s dead easy. Why is that?”

  The expression in his eyes appeared intense. “Because you’re Australian,” she said, offering an idiotic explanation. “Oh, God, let me rephrase that. You’re very frank. We British are inclined to be much more reserved.”

  “You consider that a good thing?” He didn’t bother to point out his family’s British background. She would have known it anyway.

  The fear of being mesmerised increased her desire to protect herself. “It’s always been my approach.”

  “Could be one reason why you’ve led such a dull life. And you have had a dull life, haven’t you, Olivia, for all the material splendour? When we first came down here your responses were uncomplicated, spontaneous. Let’s stick to that.”

  “You’re the boss!”

  “And you can’t ignore it,” he said with a glint in his eyes.

  She was grateful for the feather-light breeze that was cooling her flushed cheeks. It was a relief to turn away from his searching eyes. Eyes that seemed to divine she was an emotional mess. Each day it was becoming more apparent to her that the person she had striven so hard to create, the person she thought her father wanted, didn’t match up with her inner identity at all. McAlpine, almost a stranger, had plumbed that fact.

  Why do you let him rouse you? Rouse you and rouse you. Not just your body. Your soul.

  Maybe she was evolving far too fast.

  The whole area was alive with bird song, punctuated by the odd startling cry. She continued on, to be nearer the water. The perimeter of each lake was festooned in glorious native water lilies. Very curiously with floating lilies of a different colour—one a gorgeous blue-violet, another the palest yellow with a gold-brown centre, the third so deep a pink they were almost lilac.

  “Was the planting deliberate?” she turned back to ask in a conciliatory manner. If he suddenly disappeared she would be totally lost in this flowering wilderness. “Different coloured lilies in each lagoon?” She didn’t want to fall out with him. She wanted them to be friends.

  Who are you fooling? Don’t you really mean, much more than friends?

  He moved slowly towards her, looking amused. “Olivia, the blue lotus is found naturally all over our tropics. It’s common to Australia and North Africa. It was the sacred flower of ancient Egypt, as you probably know. Most of our pools and lagoons carry flowers of the one colour. After the rains on our stations in the Queensland Channel Country you have mile after mile of white everlastings that eventually run into mile after mile of yellow.”

  “How lovely!” She was standing only a few feet from the edge of the emerald water. Shards of sunlight were hitting the transparent wings of dragonflies, iridescent blue and dark yellow as they darted from one stunning water lily to the other. “Are there fish in the lakes?”

  “Nothing to make a meal of. In season the lakes are a haven for all manner of water birds, including the black swans. Be careful where you’re walking now.” The grass had turned coarse and grainy.

  “I’m fine.” She was fairly suffocating with sexual awareness. In fact, he made her feel so hot she could break out in a rash. The tiniest miscalculation on her part and she could make an utter fool of herself. She feared that above everything. Staying in control had been an important component of her character. She knew she was incapable of handling a man like McAlpine.

  Poor old Justin was more your speed.

  How she would love to distance herself from that inner voice! It was even possible she had an over-reliance on it. Bella had no inner voice to prevent her from taking things to what she in her righteousness had often considered extremes. Maybe Bella had the better way of doing things?

  There was a sudden loud, whirring sound. The beating of dozens of wings. She looked up to witness a great flock of brilliantly coloured parrots coming in to settle in the trees. She stood magnetised by the spectacle, throwing back her head to glory in the sight. The sun flashed off strong jewel colours—emerald, ruby, sapphire, topaz, garnet. Her head was flung so far back she felt a flicker of vertigo. To counteract it, she reached for a low-hanging branch, conveniently to hand. Only at the very moment she clutched it, it gave a sharp crack, then snapped off in her hand.

  She let out a muffled cry, afraid she was going to skid down the bank into the water, crushing the carpet of native herbs as she went.

  Only McAlpine was there to catch her.

  Surreal! How had he done that?

  A pouncing lion couldn’t have made it faster.

  “Bravo!” There was a self-congratulatory note in his voice. They might have been a pair of trapeze artists and he had just saved her from a nasty nosedive.

  One arm was locked around her waist in a steely embrace. She couldn’t stand straight. It was as if she had entered a state of total paralysis that compelled her to remain bent over his arm. Her two good legs offered no support whatever. Another huge difficulty was to get back her breath. Even the chatter of the birds had stilled in anticipation of her next move.

  He turned her body, glowing now, in his arms. She couldn’t bear to look at him. The tight leash she habitually kept on herself had snapped. Were there no bones in her legs at all?

  “Olivia?”

  Was there a thread of mockery beneath the concern? She felt like whimpering. Wouldn’t that be shocking to whimper at the ripe old age of twenty-eight! There didn’t appear to be an iota of strength left in her body. God knows what a doctor would have to say about her condition. She only knew she was without enough breath to respond. Her hair had let her down as well. It was in total disarray, flowing everywhere, like it used to do when she was a child.

  Surely this confirms you’re sexually repressed?

  The danger was her real self fighting to get out.

  Her mind might have been scrambled, but her body began to obey some fundamental need. It started to press into his. Male against female. Shocking, sensual pleasure. In one way she felt stunned; in another, the strange feeling was approaching euphoria. She imagined powerful circuits switching on in her brain…lighting up…dopamine pouring into her blood…He might have been kissing her all over.

  Moments were stretching into infinity. Even McAlpine seemed to have lost direction. Her breasts rose and fell in agitation, nipples hard as berries. Human sexuality wasn’t all that different to the animal kingdom. Male and female were designed to mate. It wasn’t long intellectual discussions that brought it about. It was action. And action had been missing from her life.

  He spoke first, his voice as smooth and golden as warm honey. “What can a man do when he finds a beautiful woman in his arms?”

  Dredge up what’s left of your control, girl. Go on.

  The voice was whispering as though it was all it could do to issue the husky warning.

  She didn’t want to go on. God, his hands were grasping her hips. But she knew she had to make an attempt. “He could let her go,” she said into the fraught pause. She couldn’t think straight. Her stomach was doing somersaults in the way of a woman getting ready for a pa
rachute jump.

  “I will in a moment.” He was making best use of that mellifluous mesmerising voice. “It’s just that I have a hunch you badly need kissing. Not now and again, but constantly. I’m good with my hunches. Raise your head, Olivia. Be daring for once in your life.”

  The challenge put her on her mettle. Overbearing, arrogant, incredibly sexy man. He needed putting in his place. “Don’t even think of kissing me,” she warned in her cut-glass voice.

  He pulled back a fraction. “For a goddess to be scared of mortal man?”

  “Scared? Good gracious, I’m not scared of you, McAlpine.” Scared of all the disturbances within her maybe.

  “Scared of yourself, then?”

  Spot on.

  She threw up her head. “Look, I’m not getting into any situation when I’m forced to spend months with you.”

  His expression was suave. “But my dear Ms Balfour, I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you. I’m probably more of a gentleman than your insipid Justin.”

  “He’s not my Justin.”

  “Glad to hear it. I thought he was a real wimp. You deserve a lot more. What we need to find out is what has gone wrong in the past. Why your love affairs haven’t worked.”

  “You should talk!” she shot back, blue eyes flashing.

  “I agree. But maybe that’s why I feel for you. First we need to know whether you can kiss. That’s a start. I have an idea you favour keeping your strawberry lips tightly shut.”

  “Having fun, are we?” she asked loftily.

  “I’m dead serious, Olivia. You’re twenty-eight. High time you were married. I know you want kids.”

  “Surely that’s normal enough,” she returned with considerable heat. “I’m normal enough.”

  “Let’s find out.” He moved her in closer.

  God, girl! Time to act. Pour scorn on him. Freeze him out.

  Hard to freeze anyone when you felt molten. “I’m thinking you’re a shameless man.”

  “For wanting to kiss you?” His voice deepened.

  “You want to kiss me?” She drew in a convulsive breath.

  “You’re in my domain.” He slid his arms down her straight back to her waist.

  “I’m well aware of that. But I came here on business, remember?” What her body desired was way too dangerous.

  “Nonsense! Your dad shunted you out of the country. There’s a huge scandal on the front page of the world’s newspapers every other day of the week. You know that as well as I. It’s all part of the media cycle. Illegitimate children abound. Who worries about that any more? Children are a great blessing. Anyway, everyone gets their fifteen minutes of blame. I promise you, Olivia, this little experiment will be painless.”

  She felt maddened by their proximity. “I don’t take kindly to experiments.”

  “Trust me. I’m on your side. You fascinate me. You did from our first frosty encounter. Of recent times I’ve come to the conclusion you don’t actually know how to come down from your pedestal.”

  “And you’re happy to hold the stepladder?” Her knees were sagging beneath her.

  “Well, I’ve had far more experience than you. Why not pass a little of that expertise on. The big plus for me is you have such a beautiful, sensitive mouth.”

  A sound like static was crackling in her ears. “Subtext—I don’t know how to use it to kiss? Is that what you’re saying?” She tried to disengage. Couldn’t. “My answer to your little experiment has to be no, McAlpine. I’m sure you don’t hear no often. This is one of your experiments that won’t work.”

  “Only I’m thinking it will.” He was holding her as though he relished having her in his arms.

  Would you just look at that challenging glint in his golden eyes! Are you going to stand for it?

  More likely she was about to cast off her old moral code.

  “You’re a seriously arrogant man.”

  “I’m one of the good guys. I’ve suffered, Olivia. Just like you.”

  All of a sudden her tender heart smote her. She was a woman who took no pleasure in people’s suffering. Even McAlpine. The acknowledgement that he had suffered sent her last defence crashing. Behind the all-conquering male front, he too could be in need of comfort.

  Comfort wasn’t what she got. Or gave. Rather a raging excitement. Regrets could come later. She found herself breathing in the scent of him like a woman deprived of an essential powerful aphrodisiac. So extravagant was her reaction to it, she began to lose touch with the world around her. There was no drawing back, no flinching, no timidity—only wave after wave of pleasure. His mouth—such a firm generous mouth—came down on hers not hard or fast, but slowly…slowly…savouring the taste of her as though she was utterly delectable. It was astonishing to experience the wild burst of freedom. No need for him to prise her lips apart with the tip of his tongue. He had instant admittance. She who had earned a reputation for being cold had finally discovered the one man to turn up the heat.

  The kisses altered in character…deepened, bringing forth her soft moans. “Your skin is like satin…as cool.” He turned his ministrations to her face, dragging his mouth across her cheekbones, her cheek, letting his lips trail down the column of her neck. A normal enough communication in lovemaking, only the way he did it was so erotic she had to bite her lips to prevent herself from crying out. The static in her ears was turning into a roar, like waves crashing up against a cliff.

  “Clint?” Her voice quavered. He had to relent or she would be totally seduced.

  He kissed her mouth again before answering. “You want me to stop? Or do you want me to really make love to you?”

  She couldn’t mistake the powerful tension in him or his male arousal. He wasn’t nearly as much in command of himself as he might like to think. She reached to grasp his wrist. “What are we doing?” she asked frantically. This was no experiment. This was full-on sexual passion. “You’re not in love with me. You don’t know me. I don’t know you.”

  “Then how come we’re doing so astoundingly well?” He stared challengingly into her eyes. “I don’t play childish kissing games, Olivia. I do feel something for you. That’s pretty obvious. You feel something for me, so don’t bother to deny it. But you’re right. No seduction scene allowed. Just a sizzle. And I thought I was off women, would you believe?”

  “Men of strong passions don’t go off women,” she said bluntly, thinking of her father.

  Thump…thump…thump. Her heart was drumming so hard she had to hold a hand to it. He had aroused her to such a pitch. And so easily. God knows what would happen if they ever got into bed.

  He released her, holding up his palms in a gesture of surrender. “Well, you’ve certainly mastered the kiss and in only one lesson. What say we try again before we go to be sure? I’m fully aware you’re here on business, only this time give me all you’ve got.”

  Her temper shot up in plumes of flame.

  Give it all you’ve got!

  She was so furious, she did.

  The second time it was like plunging into a volcano with a billion lava-red stars to light up the darkness. She felt weightless. Except for her breasts that by comparison felt heavy. There was also an intense quivering between her legs, little knifelike plunges. She tried to clench her muscles to make it stop. It only made it worse. The action was painfully and massively erotic. And he was only kissing her. What if he started working her out of her clothes? What if he started kissing the most erogenous zones of her body? She didn’t know if she could stand the liberation. On the other hand, she was responding like a woman breaking out of a suffocating cocoon.

  You were dying for this!

  I know.

  Only you could be giving your heart away. Remember, Houseman? Give crowns and pounds and guineas but not your heart away.

  The abruptness with which he released her was startling. Mercifully he kept a hold on her shoulder because she was swaying like a willow in a high wind.

  He gave her a taut half-smile. “Tha
t will do for today. Though to my mind, your education is complete.”

  “Well, you’d know, McAlpine.” Her legs were wobbly, her breath unsteady.

  “You can’t manage Clint?”

  “McAlpine helps keep me on my guard.”

  “You’ll have to call me Clint when my guests arrive.” He studied her with interest. Her blue eyes were ablaze, the cool classical features softened into an alluring womanliness. “Better go back to the jeep?” he said.

  Before all control was lost.

  She followed his cue, her manner, ludicrously under the circumstances, formal. “Thank you for showing me this wondrous place.”

  “I trust you to come down here by yourself. I’ve accepted your word you’re an experienced rider.” She would be with her upbringing.

  “Nothing to stop you from checking me out.”

  He gave her his hand as the going got rough. “We’ll make it late this afternoon. I can fix you up with the right mount and saddle. I’d like you to wear a hard hat when you’re out. At least until you get to know the terrain. It would take us days to drive around the station. We’ve stayed close in, where I want you to remain.”

  “Your wish is my command.” He could easily have let her hand go, yet he continued to hold it, smothering her in feeling. “Do you suppose your daughter will like me?”

  “You want her to?”

  “Of course.” She removed her tingling hand as they reached the top of the slope. “I don’t suppose your exwife will. Mightn’t it be a good idea if I called you Mr McAlpine while she’s around?”

  “We don’t go in for such formality around here, Olivia. Clint is fine. My ex-wife has a new man in her life. With any luck at all she’ll marry him.”

  “What is love?” she asked.

  His expression turned bleak. “Whatever it is, Olivia, it’s in pretty short supply.”

  Saturday morning Olivia was up at first light. She was nervous, although she’d had a great team to support her during the week—no lukewarm responses such as she’d been guilty of herself in the past, but enthusiastic approval. It occurred to her she had lived her life encased in her own private space. That wasn’t happening here. The team wanted in. Her “posh” accent brought forth many a chuckle from the house girls, as though she was doing a lot of it for fun.