The Cattle Baron's Bride

by Margaret Way

  Ross and Cy were telling David about the world famous rock galleries of Nourlangie and Ubirr estimated at around twenty thousand years old and of great archaeological importance.

  "Most of the paintings at Nourlangie are in the X-ray style," Ross said, leaning towards David like a man on a mission to sell the Top End. "Two phases descriptive and decorative. Extraordinarily these X-ray drawings depict the subject's internal anatomical features. Ibirr is another treasure house you'd need to see. You'll find the Mimi spirits depicted there. The aboriginals believe they live in the caves, even in the little cracks and crevices."

  "To them, the Mimi are terrifying creatures," Cy eased in the comment.

  Ross nodded. "Namargon, the Lightning Man is represented, stone axes growing from his head, arms and knees to strike the ground. He appeared when the region first experienced the great electrical storms of the Wet. The rock art is the region's major cultural heritage. It can't be missed."

  "Take me there," David smiled. "I'm sold."

  They got through almost another hour talking. David Langdon asked a great many questions. Cy and Ross answered them, taking turns, sometimes speaking together their enthusiasm was so great. Isabelle sat back quietly. Jessica smiled lovingly at her husband, Samantha inwardly was on tenderhooks. She couldn't bear to think for once she would lose out although Sunderland hadn't as yet agreed to act as their guide. His purpose on the whole seemed to be that of an arm chair guide, pointing out the very special areas of interests, the sacred sites, the extraordinary land forms and the spectacular escarpment country and the various hazards along the way which included the immensely dangerous giant saurians of the Alligator River, North and South, and the numerous billabongs and wetlands. Both he and Cy maintained if you treated the crocodiles with respect and didn't intrude foolishly on their territory no harm would come to you.

  Samantha took that as a very good reason for being allowed to go along. It wasn't as though she was planning to come within patting distance of their hideous snouts. They weren't cuddly koalas, though even koalas being wild animals could inflict a lot of damage if they felt threatened.

  David gave a satisfied sigh. "So are you going to be free to take us?"

  For one dreadful moment it looked like Sunderland was about to say, no, only Samantha breathed a sigh of relief when his sister caught his eye and smiled. Isabelle knew he wanted to go. Ross loved being out in the wilderness. There were a few pressing commitments he would have to attend to before he went. Afterwards for the space of a few weeks of the trip he could delegate. Their overseer, Pete Lowell, was a good, dependable man. Their father had trained him.

  "All right," Ross agreed, returning his sister's smile with some wryness. "I'll take you. That would be Matt, your assistant and yourself, I take it?"

  Well you take it wrong, Samantha thought smartly, catching her brother's eye.

  "I was hoping, Ross, Samantha could come," David said sounding thoroughly persuasive.

  It was quite clear that didn't work on Sunderland. The animated expression on his lean handsome face changed abruptly. Samantha willed him to give in but he shook his head. "That would well and truly be bending the rules, Dave. It will be far from easy getting to the places you'd want to get your shots. I've seen your work. I know danger entices you. It's the same excitement as a safari only we don't get to kill magnificent wild animals as they did in the bad old days."

  "What if we established camps?" David suggested, seeing Sunderland's point of view.

  "And leave your sister on her own?" Sunderland's black brows shot up.

  I'm not even Samantha, Sam thought. I'm "your sister."

  David's topaz eyes moved to the silent Isabelle. "What if Isabelle came along? For all her lilylike appearance I expect she's a woman who could handle herself in the bush."

  Yes, oh yes!

  Samantha, mindful of what Isabelle had said to her, managed to hold her tongue but instead of shrinking away from the idea, Isabelle glanced down, her long lashes dark and heavy on her cheeks. She knew Ross had made it clear he didn't want Samantha on the trip which in all fairness she had to admit was in the wildest least explored area of the continent. On the other hand she could see Samantha had a positive yen for adventure.

  She glanced up and caught David Langdon's golden eyes on her. Her pulses gave a mad little flitter as though he had actually touched her lightly. "Do I have to answer now?"

  Her brother stirred restlessly. "Belle, would you really want to go along? You know as well as I do, it won't be any party. I think Samantha's initial enthusiasm for such a trip would be short lived. I can't keep my eye on her one hundred per cent of the time which means I can't guarantee her safety."

  "Maybe David has the answer," Cy intervened mildly, thinking it was a bit of an awkward situation. "Make camp in a safe area. If there was any danger involved when David was taking his shots, the girls could stay together. That's if Isabelle consents to go."

  "Come to think of it I'd like to go myself," Jessica gave her husband an arch look.

  "No chance of your going without me," Cy grabbed her hand playfully.

  "Doesn't that prove what I'm saying?" Ross asked. "Taking the women would slow us down too much."

  "Come on, Ross!" Isabelle's eyes suddenly flashed giving a glimpse of the high spirited girl she had been. "You're telling me I couldn't keep up?"

  Ross sighed. "You don't have the same level of fitness you used to have, Belle. In fact you look like a stiff breeze could blow you away."

  Isabelle stared at him, outraged. "I do not!"

  David Langdon broke in, holding up a large hand. "You honestly believe this trip could become too rough for the women, Ross?"

  Ross nodded, giving Samantha a long speaking look. "I've already worked out the areas I'd want to take you. For that matter I'd bring along my own man. Cy knows him well and can vouch for him. His name is Joe Goolatta. He's a full blooded aboriginal elder, a fine man and a great bushman and tracker. He won't be a follower. He'll lead with me. This is his country. The crocodile is his totem. Believe it or not the crocs seem to recognise this. They sure don't with anyone else."

  "Incredible!" David commented, having seen strange things himself in various primitive parts of the world. "The reason I wanted Sam to come along-apart from the fact I believed she would thoroughly enjoy it-is that Sam usually writes the text. She's very good at it."

  "I agree." Ross nodded, moving an impatient shoulder. "Going on tonight's exhibition but couldn't she just as easily write the text from the finished product?"

  "I'd be missing the immediacy." Samantha gave him an incensed glance. "I wouldn't be frightened if you left me alone back at camp. I'm not a wimp. Of course it would be wonderful if Isabelle could keep me company," she murmured, brushing back a silken slide of hair.

  Only a fool let himself be manipulated by a woman. "Do you know how to shoot?" Sunderland asked her brusquely, watching that copper hair slide forward seductively again.

  The challenge in her seemed to evaporate. "You mean a gun?"

  "Certainly a gun," he clipped off. "A rifle. A .22?"

  "No, sir!" Samantha glanced across at her brother for support. "I've never even seen a gun up close let alone handled one. I hate guns. They're horrible."

  "And necessary if you're trying to protect yourself in the bush." Sunderland studied her as though she really belonged in kindergarten. "What do you do if a wild boar goes on the attack or a croc abruptly surfaces out of a pool and comes at you at speed. Aim a stone at it? What do you do when some member of the party inadvertently treads on a taipan? Throw a stick at it?"

  Colour stained Samantha's cheek bones. "Would you mind not taking a chunk out me? I get your point, Mr. Sunderland." She really loathed this man.

  "Well that's a first."

  Watching the electric exchange Isabelle entered the fray. "But I'm good with a rifle," she said. It wasn't just women sticking together. What else? "Dad taught us both well."

  Her brother l
ooked like he thought the conversation had gone far enough. "Don't let your sense of derring-do get the better of you, Belle. Really think about it."

  It was David who brought it to an end. "Perhaps that's the answer. Why don't we let you and Isabelle talk it over, Ross? I understand your concerns. I daresay in your position I wouldn't be prepared to take the risks either, but if Isabelle steps in, it sounds like we could reduce the risks considerably. Sleep on it. Maybe we can meet tomorrow in the morning seeing we're staying at the same hotel. Or did you want to get away early?"

  "I ought to." Ross gave a slight frown. "But the morning will be fine. Belle can have a sleep in. I've agreed to be your guide, Dave, and that will stand. I know Samantha is angry at me but she doesn't actually know what she could be in for."

  "Sleep on it, friend," David advised.

  There were much fewer guests now. People had begun to leave. Cy stood up, holding his wife's chair. "On that note, we'll say good night. I have a feeling it will all turn out well. Jessica and I had best be off. We're staying with Robyn and her husband. They're sending a limo to pick us up, so I'd say it will be waiting out the front."

  "We had a wonderful time," Jessica said, rising gracefully. "I loved your showing, David."

  David also on his feet now, bowed slightly. "Great seeing you again, Jessica. And thanks for all your help." With one hand he held Isabelle's chair, catching her elusive, very beautiful perfume as she rose to her feet.

  "Marvellous food!" Cy put in, sending David a friendly grin. "You can't do better than Ross for a guide," he added, throwing a glance at his friend who was starting to move back. "Isabelle's not bad either."

  For a female Samantha started to say, then thought better of it. No point in angering Ross Sunderland until he'd made his decision. She took a precipitous step away from the table without looking, then realised with a pounding of the heart she'd all but bumped into him.

  On a reflex his arm swiftly snaked around her waist holding her steady.

  "Sorry!" she breathed, shocked by the sensation. "You're a very fast mover."

  "I guess I am." His eyes locked into hers. He could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. He soaked it up hungrily, tempted to spin her into his arms. He might have been fool enough to do it had they been on their own. And damn the consequences. He knew it by its name. Temptation. At least the others were momentarily distracted saying their goodbyes.

  Samantha glanced back over her shoulder, her blood coursing at his closeness. Against his bronze skin his blue-green eyes were startling. His sculpted mouth wasn't all that far away. She only had to lean back further. She wondered what it would be like to have those clean cut lips pressed against hers. Deep and passionate. For he was a passionate man. She was sure of it.

  "You can let me go now," she said tautly. His hand was singeing her flesh.

  "Sure," he drawled, slowly withdrawing. "The last thing I want to do is unsettle you."

  Male arrogance was in his very stance. "What makes you think you have?" she asked sharply.

  He smiled, but didn't answer, malicious laughter in his sparkling eyes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  USED TO A predawn start Ross woke at the usual time even though he'd had what for him could only be described as a bad night. Mostly he was so dog tired after a hard day's work on the station he fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow but here in this quiet air-conditioned hotel room his mind kept revolving around the problem of Samantha Langdon. And she was a problem. A big one.

  Go away. Damn you!

  Hell, it was almost a prayer.

  Too late for that, Ross, old son. The inner voice answered. She's got to you.

  That didn't mean he had to surrender.

  He and Belle had talked well into the night, Belle arguing strongly for Samantha's inclusion on the trip. He told himself the thing that had clinched it was Belle's surprise desire to go. It was the first real interest she had shown in anything since she had come home after the loss of her husband. That in itself was encouraging but what, he wondered, had prompted the big upsurge of interest? It had to be something to do with the near instant connection she had made with David Langdon. Whatever it was it had energised her. He had seen with his own eyes the harmony that had flowed from one to the other. Langdon was a very motivated, very selfdisciplined, powerful sort of man. He was also, as might be expected of an artist, a man of sensitivity, finely attuned to women. Belle liked him. Hell, he liked the man himself.

  But Samantha?

  He couldn't stop his body stirring. He could even sense her presence.

  Why are you rejecting her, Ross?

  He had tried to give Belle an answer but he knew she saw through him. The answer cut into the most primitive part of him. Part of his and Belle's unhappy past. Yet for all that he had finally agreed to take both Belle and Samantha Langdon along. The beginnings of a friendship was flowering between the two women. He couldn't say the same for himself and this copper haired woman. All bright things in nature could be dangerous. Dammit all he was hurting. He knew now he'd been hurting since he'd met her. That's what was making him so stubborn. Obdurate if you like. Up until now he'd negotiated easily enough through emotional entanglements-he'd had his share of girlfriends-but he simply couldn't do it with this woman. He'd hate to fall in love. Really fall in love. To want so much. To be left... wanting. Belle knew what a lot didn't. Underneath he was a pretty passionate guy. Passionate guys had to take care....

  He braced his hands beneath his dark head going back over Cy's wedding. He'd had a little bit too much to drink. It was, after all, a very grand and happy occasion. Cy was over the moon, madly in love with his beautiful new bride, Jessica. He felt great for him. Cy was his pal. As best man he'd given a good speech and it had gone well. A mix of remembrances, mostly good, one or two touching, but on the whole leavened with humour. People had laughed even until tears came to their eyes.

  The other three bridesmaids had accepted him completely as scion of a well respected family, Cy's best friend and someone nice to know. Very pretty girls, all three, who'd enjoyed flirting with him. With his senses exquisitely sharpened he had flirted back when all he'd really wanted was his arms around her. The urge was so powerful and persistent that in the end he had surrendered to it. Besides, it was his duty to dance with the chief bridesmaid. It would have been a serious breach of etiquette not to.

  She had looked like a man's dream come true. The smooth naked shoulders, the half naked back. The heart shaped dip of her strapless neckline revealed the creamy swell of her breasts and the shadowed cleavage. The material of her gown was something called duchesse satin. He understood that meant the fabric was thick, lustrous, supple. The colour, champagne with a blush of apricot, was perfect with her colouring. She didn't wear her hair free as she had done the first time he had seen her running down Mokhani's staircase. It was pulled back from her face, like the other bridesmaids and arranged in some full upturning roll at the back of her head, one beautiful silk flower to match her gown tucked behind her ear.

  When he went to her, her face brightened. "Oh, Ross!"

  "My dance, I believe." He put his arms around her, his need too great to be suppressed. She was heartbreakingly beautiful in her wedding finery, wearing Cy's gift to the bridesmaids, a drop pearl pendant on a fine gold chain around her long slender neck. Hers was an unusual gold with a single sparkling cognac diamond above it. Her earrings matched the colour, the pearls dropping from a series of tiny winking diamonds. He wondered if Cy had bought them as well or they were her own? What man wouldn't love to give her jewellery he thought. Cover her naked body with it.

  "I really thought you didn't want to dance with me." Her expression was sweetly anxious as she looked up at him.

  "Why wouldn't I want to dance with the most beautiful bridesmaid?" he had countered in that voice that was all wrong.

  She'd smiled in a poignant way. "For one reason you've been having the most wonderful time with t
he others."

  "That isn't the reason," he said.

  Sparklelike tears rose to her eyes, heightening his desire for her that was growing beyond measure. Many eyes were following them. He was fully aware of that. She turned her head to acknowledge the smiles and nods from either side. "I'll remember this day forever," she said. "Jessica as radiant and beautiful as a bride should be. Cy so splendid and so much in love with her." She'd looked up at him. "I loved your speech too, Ross. It made us all laugh and cry."

  "Is that why you've got tears in your eyes now?" He knew his grip had tightened on her. He could feel her trembling as though unprepared for what might ensue.