by Various
The pleasure was frightening and immense. “Oh, God!” she whispered frantically into his mouth, so sexually aroused she wouldn’t have made a move to stop him if he decided to take her there and then on the carpet. Nothing she had known was anything like this. This was the one thing that mattered and, so far, that she had missed out on. No wonder her development as a woman had been stunted.
Except he stopped dead. He jerked his head back, mentally if not physically distancing himself from her. She was amazed at the change in him, deeply at a loss. A great shudder ran through his powerful body. “I’m sorry, Olivia,” he groaned. “Forgive me. I’m losing it. I’m ashamed. So ashamed. I shouldn’t be touching you. Marigole is right. This isn’t what your father intended.”
His hands reached blindly for the sarong. He brought the hot-pink fabric up over her breasts, unchallenged by the way to tie it.
“I just had to see how you were. I was frantic. Things have got out of hand. The last thing I want is to destroy our friendship. I’ll never forget how you dived in after Georgy with no thought for your own safety. That truly proves your worth, Olivia, if it even needed proving. You’re a fine woman, a fine human being.” He lifted her right hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Forgive me?” he begged tautly, visibly pale beneath his dark tan.
She nodded, totally bereft of words.
After he had gone she threw herself down on the bed. Giving enormous pleasure didn’t require forgiveness surely? How did one go about forgiving the best thing that had ever happened to her? Such had been his influence on her that she had already undergone significant changes. She was warmer, more loving, more open. Less self-protective, less concerned with preserving an “image” at all costs. Her image was phoney anyway. She understood now that, to a large extent, she had been controlled. Her rewards had been her father’s ongoing approval. There had been no higher authority in her life.
Until now.
You love him, Olivia. You really love him.
Even if nothing could come from it—they lived in very different worlds—it was Clint McAlpine who had brought the real Olivia into being.
Chapter Nine
CLINT had told them he would be away for about a fortnight. The fortnight spun out into a month of tough business negotiations. Or was he taking his time about coming back to her? Olivia spent time agonising over that. Could he be determined on a clear break, perhaps finding his feelings too complex? He was right about one thing. Things between them had escalated in furious leaps and bounds. Relationships either went forward or they broke down and fell apart. That wasn’t happening here. Not yet. The great bonus for her was he had soothed her troubled heart. He respected her. His respect was important to her. But he had warned her he wasn’t going to rush into a second marriage.
“Only an idiot would make the same mistake twice!”
Who could blame him? From all accounts, sweet as honey at the beginning, Marigole had along the way developed into a very difficult, self-centred and totally unlikeable woman. Her biggest failing was she had cut off her only child, in all probability the major factor in the breakdown of the marriage.
As the days and nights passed, she moved from inner questions to a variety of possible answers, obsessing really, her whole being taken over by her deep feelings for him. Kath had refused point-blank to take the holiday Clint had promised her and her husband.
“It’s like a holiday having you around, Livvy!”
So Kath had stayed on, claiming she had as good as adopted Olivia. Certainly they were very easy on each other’s company. Olivia had made it her business to spend time with everyone on the station—the most powerful of all, Eerina aka Bessie, who showed herself from time to time. Bessie’s work as an artist was very important to her. It often took her on desert walkabouts.
Ever-conscientious Olivia had turned her attentions to Georgy. Maybe as daughters of powerful fathers with huge claims on their time and interest, their identification had come easily. Also there was the missing-mother factor. Olivia recognised her life would have been very different had her mother lived. Georgy had her mother, though her mother behaved as if her only child was somehow unrelated to her. Marigole, physically beautiful but spiritually lacking, had wanted a son, as a symbol of achievement. No wonder Georgy had moved quite a way down the path of maladjustment. In the time she was on the station Olivia was determined on helping Georgy work out strategies to cope.
First came the riding lessons. Georgy was terrified of horses. Initially Olivia had found that impossible to believe until Kath told her on the quiet about the sort of “lessons” Marigole had given her. That is to say, Marigole had been so sharp and impatient, so scathing of her daughter’s seeming lack of ability, the two of them reached the stage where Marigole stated flatly her daughter would never make a rider. It was adult intolerance of a child at the highest and worst level.
The first requirement of a good teacher is undoubtedly patience. And lots of it. Olivia had patience in spades. That one quality made all the difference in the world. With no Marigole to berate her and strip her of all confidence, Georgy was able to relax and proceed comfortably each day with her lessons. Olivia, who found horses the most beautiful of all animals, had little difficulty communicating that love to Georgy, who had progressed to reaching out, touching, petting, feeding from the hand and generally conveying her gentleness to the small, sweet-tempered mare Olivia had picked out for her.
“You’re a miracle worker, that’s what you are!” Kath declared happily over a companionable cup of tea. “You need kids of your own, love. You’ll make a wonderful mother. You’re so kind and patient and so understanding of children. I’ve never known Georgy to be so at peace.”
It was obvious to them all. Olivia, a woman with a strong academic bent, had been supervising Georgy’s study program which had been sent on to her by her school. Georgy was a highly intelligent child. She would be ready to start the new term in August. And the core area of conflict had been removed with Marigole’s departure.
“Clint will shape his daughter’s life,” said Kath. “The thing is, he has to work so hard. He has enormous responsibilities. He needs a wife.” Kath peered hard into Olivia’s blue eyes.
“Don’t look at me, Kath,” Olivia responded with a deep telling blush.
“I am looking at you, love. The two of you would be perfect, even if you can’t see it yet. You wouldn’t be stuck in the wilds, if that part is important to you.”
“But it isn’t, Kath,” Olivia protested. “I love it here.”
Kath’s eyes were thoughtful. “Clint leads a very busy social life from time to time and he travels a great deal. He needs a woman. A woman like you who can take her place anywhere. Buckingham Palace, I reckon.”
Olivia had to laugh.
“You know what I mean, love,” said Kath, patting her hand. “Now Bessie said an odd thing the other day.”
Olivia felt the onset of tingles. “What was it?”
“Can’t say, love. Bessie just run it by me. I wouldn’t want to be the one to break one of Bessie’s confidences. Gawd knows what would happen to me. Bessie’s a sorceress.”
“Tell me about it,” Olivia said, ready to accept it was Eerina’s magic crystal that had caused the blue spear to hurtle into Carlee Waters.
As it was, Clint surprised them. He hadn’t let anyone know he was returning, so when Olivia and Georgy came in from their riding lesson, faces glowing with achievement, there he was strolling down the portico towards them.
“Daddy!” Georgy’s voice rang out with happiness. She went into his outstretched arms, receiving a warm kiss and a hug. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back?”
“The answer’s simple, sweetheart. I wanted to surprise you.” McAlpine lifted his gleaming head to acknowledge Olivia. “How are you, Olivia?”
Not showing it on the outside, inside she was aglow. “I’m fine, thank you, Clint. And you?”
“Missing my womenfolk.”
“You mean Liv and me?” Georgy looked up at him with startled eyes.
“Don’t forget Kath.”
“Oh, we missed you!” Georgy cried, hugging him again.
Over his daughter’s head, McAlpine’s golden gaze on Olivia was very intent.
He appeared to be checking off her features one by one. Relearning them?
Did he know his return had rekindled the blaze in her? He looked marvellous, radiating his special brand of male vitality.
“Liv has been teaching me to ride,” Georgy confided. “She’s a great teacher. Not a bit like Mum calling me stupid all the time.”
“You’ve been an excellent pupil.” Olivia smiled, transferring her blue gaze to Clint. “When you’ve got time, Clint, Georgy would love to show you what she can do.”
“What’s this, time?” he jeered. “Of course I’ve got time. I can’t wait to see you up on a horse, my darling.” He drew Georgy under his shoulder. “What say we have lunch and afterwards we can go back down to the stables? Suit you, Liv?” An amused smile played around his sexy mouth.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Don’t go back into your shell, girl. This is your time for transformation. Your time to rethink your life. Remake it. Look to the future.
One thing she was sure of. Her future wasn’t going to be along the same lines as her past.
For a few weeks McAlpine changed his routine so he could spend more time with them, though his workload was considerable. Olivia realised he was catching up long after the household had retired. The various McAlpine operations had offices everywhere, but McAlpine naturally made it his business to oversee everything, just as Olivia’s father did. It was very much hands-on.
“Look, I’m pretty smart actually,” Olivia said one evening over dinner.
“Sure is!” Georgy piped up. “She knows more than my teachers.”
“You’re biased, Georgy.” Olivia smiled. “I’ve been helping Georgy with her schoolwork,” she told McAlpine.
“I know.”
She couldn’t quite fathom the expression on his dynamic face. “I speak fluent French and Italian and I can get by with my German.”
“Good Lord, is there no end to your talents!” McAlpine exclaimed, refilling her wineglass.
“I told you she was clever.” Georgy nodded owlishly. “Can I have a drop of that, Daddy?”
“No, my darling, you can’t,” McAlpine told her firmly. “You’ve got a good few more years to go yet and then only in moderation.”
“Tell that to Mummy.” Georgy sighed. “Even silly old Lucas has told her to stop.”
“Good for Lucas,” said McAlpine crisply.
“I’d like to help if I could.” Olivia took up the thread. “I do have a good business head. All of us do, as a matter of fact.”
“Liv has a huge family,” Georgy told her father, clearly envious. “Her father, Oscar, sent them all over the world to find themselves. Isn’t that strange? I mean you’re you wherever you are.”
McAlpine’s eyes were on Olivia’s porcelain-skinned face. “Sometimes it’s easier to find one’s identity in a new environment. I hope Olivia will agree with that?”
“I do.” She met the searching eyes. “I love the freedom here. And I’ve loved being of help to you.” She reached out to touch Georgy’s hand.
“So why don’t you stay?” Georgy asked in the sweetest, winning way. “You don’t have to rush off home.”
“Olivia has to return to England for her father’s birthday,” McAlpine reminded her. “It’s going to be a big reunion party.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like it when you’re gone, Liv.” Georgy stood, abruptly pushing back her chair.
“I’ve promised you, you can always come and visit me, Georgy.” Olivia looked up with concern at the suddenly downcast child.
“I’m frightened I’ll never see or hear of you again if you go away.”
“You have my promise that won’t happen.” Solemnly Olivia crossed her heart.
“I know you mean it, Liv.”
“I do.”
“OK.” Georgy brightened. “That’s all right, then. May I be excused?”
“Of course you may, sweetheart,” McAlpine said.
“I’m going to finish my book—never get tired of rereading it, Jane Eyre—then I’m planning a deep sleep. I’m getting more exercise with my riding than I have in my whole life.”
“I’ll come and tuck you in,” McAlpine called after her.
“Bring Liv with you.” Georgy made off with a little wave.
Olivia started learning about McAlpine Enterprises that very night. Clint was working his way through endless piles of paperwork he didn’t entrust to anyone else. Just like her father. In many ways they were a pair. It struck her that her father would have given anything to have a son like McAlpine. Tradition, the father-son bond, all that.
“You can trust me.” She was peering over his shoulder as he sat at his desk. “Even if you only let me take charge of your personal life, a kind of confidential secretary. I could wade through all those invitations you receive, check with you, accept some, decline others, look after household accounts. Less for the office to do. I could remember family birthdays, send off cards, presents, that sort of thing. You get piles of letters, memos, documents, et cetera. Father does too. Why not let me wade through them?”
He turned his head to stare up at her. Her beautiful hair was loose, falling seductively from a centre part to curve onto her cheeks, then flow over her shoulders. He wanted to grab her and pull her down to him, only she coloured and straightened. “Why, are you bored?” He watched her round his massive partner’s desk to take a leather armchair opposite.
“Not at all!” she assured him when she could trust herself to speak. “But I was sent to help out in some way.”
“You’ve worked wonders with Georgy,” he told her quietly.
“It’s been a real pleasure.” The thought of having to leave here was indeed occupying much of her mind. The future was so indistinct. “Georgy’s a lovely girl. Highly intelligent. I meant what I said—I’ll remain her friend for as long as she wants. You know she has to go back to school. We’ve kept up with the curriculum, even gone ahead, but she has to return. The longer she stays at home, the harder it will be to go back. I think she’s ready.”
“I was getting around to discussing it with her, Olivia. She’s missing her friend, Kristy.”
Olivia smiled. “The one who sends all the emails?”
Clint’s hands locked behind his gleaming head. “They started boarding school together. Kristy used to holiday with us fairly frequently, only Marigole found her irritating. God knows why. Kristy is a great kid. By the way, we’ll have visitors for next weekend, a Texan rancher with his wife—David and Alexa Arnold. He’s a mining magnate, nice guy. He’ll be bringing a business associate from Hong Kong with his lady friend of the moment. It should be fun.”
“Leave it to me,” said Olivia. “So do I get to help you out or not?”
He pinned her with his brilliant gaze. “You’re helping me just by being here, Olivia. But OK, I have a lot of faith in you.”
“I’m not a Balfour for nothing.” Did he know how much his trust gratified her?
His laugh was brief. “Are you going to keep the Balfour when you marry, or lose it entirely?”
Olivia Balfour-McAlpine. Now that had a lovely ring to it.
Dream on.
“I’ll leave a pile of stuff for you to wade through,” he said, looking back at a stack of files. “See what you make of it. I’ll be flying to Darwin midmorning for an extended business meeting. Looking for investors for a new building project.”
“I’m sure you’ll rope them in.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence. We have pearling interests too, as you now know. I may stay overnight depending on how things go, but I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
Just a glimmer of his dazzling smile, but it made her
heart contract. “Take care.” She meant it from the bottom of her heart. All this flying was worrying her. Here it was a way of life.
“A smile would be better.”
“Take care, McAlpine,” she repeated, eyes bluer than blue, a smile, unconsciously poignant, curving her lips.
You’re too far gone to ever, ever forget him.
“And you take care.” He rose as she did, coming towards her. “How I stop myself from coming for you in the night, I don’t know,” he muttered, something in his tone indicating enforced acceptance.
“But where would it get us, Clint?”
Only seething emotions, obliterating sensation.
“It would get us to confront what we feel for each other,” he answered in a clipped voice. “I can’t bear the thought of your leaving, yet I can see that you hear home calling. I realise you need to think long and hard about taking great risks.”
“And the risk is you?”
“You already know the answer to that.” His hands lifted to caress the slopes of her shoulders. “We didn’t choose each other. You had your life. I had mine. It was destiny that brought us together. The big question is, when you get home will you forget about even being here?”
“Never!” She spoke so softly it was almost under her breath.
“So it’s in my best interests to give you plenty to remind you.”
She lifted her face, knowing even the act of leaving him to fly home would be unbearable. But he was testing her. And testing her hard. He had had a bad experience. There could be no more of that.
He trapped her body against his, crushing her breasts to his chest. Then he was kissing her with great abandon, just as she was returning his passionate kisses with a hunger to equal his. It was a huge effort to break apart. A huger effort not to begin to throw off their clothes so they could glory in naked skin against skin.