Fortunately there was nothing in it but as a flash of brilliant lightning illuminated the kitchen briefly she clung to the kitchen counter.
‘Chattie?’ Steve stood up. ‘Are you all right?’
Her voice wouldn’t work at first, then it came out sounding strained and unnatural. ‘Fine, thanks.’
‘Like hell,’ he said, and groped his way over to her. ‘Are you scared of thunder and lightning?’ he asked with a tinge of incredulity.
‘That…’ she swallowed ‘…was quite some thunder and lightning.’ She flinched as another crack came.
‘Well, well, I wouldn’t have guessed it,’ he said and put his arms around her waist.
She shivered against him as he pulled her closer. ‘G-guessed what?’
‘That the iron maiden had any cracks—this will pass over in about ten minutes and I doubt there’ll be much rain,’ he added before she could take issue with the ‘iron maiden’ crack. ‘How long it will take for the electricity to come back on is anyone’s guess. I’ll get some hurricane lamps going.’
Chattie closed her eyes and felt a dew of sweat break out on her brow and down her spine as more lightning flashed. ‘Would you mind,’ she said with difficulty, ‘not moving an inch just for the moment?’
And as a peal of thunder cracked right above them, she found herself clinging to Steve Kinane as if she’d never let him go.
‘Chattie,’ he said into her hair, ‘I promise you you’re quite safe. This old house has survived many a storm and we do have a lightning conductor.’
Chattie made a supreme effort but it wasn’t enough, her knees felt like jelly and her heart was pounding. ‘I’m sorry to be so stupid but my intellect and my…insides just won’t co-ordinate over this.’ She flinched as the storm continued to provide visual and audible pyrotechnics.
‘OK.’ He patted her back. ‘Hang on, then, we’ll ride it out together.’
‘What about Brett?’
‘He’s not scared of storms even if it does wake him. What about Rich?’
‘He’s shut in my bedroom—he’ll be under the bed by now. He’s almost as much of a ninny as I am.’
Steve laughed. ‘You make a good pair. Look, it’s already starting to move away.’
Chattie listened and he was right. It had started to rain but the thunder and lightning were not as close. She sighed with relief, then tensed as another loud clap of thunder came.
‘There could be a few last hurrahs before it goes away completely,’ Steve said comfortably, ‘but never mind, this is rather pleasant.’
She blinked up at him in the gloom. ‘What?’
‘An armful of Chattie Winslow,’ he said gravely. ‘Would you not agree?’
Her lips parted and her eyes widened. ‘I… I…’
‘Hadn’t thought about it in that light?’ He lifted a wry eyebrow at her.
‘No! No, I hadn’t,’ she added, but less certainly because, now she did come to think of it, it was very pleasant. He felt like a strong, safe haven but it was more than that. Not only did she feel safe and secure, she felt her senses stirring as a delicious awareness of her contours against the strength of his tall body overcame her.
‘Maybe you should?’ he suggested. ‘In general, I’m a much better bet than my brother. For one thing, I’m on the spot, so to speak.’
Chattie wrenched her mind from the sensations starting to course through her—the sensitivity of her breasts, the tremor within that the feel of his hand on her hip created—and she tried to pull away, thunder or no thunder, but he wouldn’t let her go.
‘Not only do you feel very pleasant, but you’re a good height for me,’ he said musingly. ‘Short girls can be tough on one’s neck.’
Chattie gasped. ‘How can you? I don’t believe you’re…saying these things!’
‘Why not?’ he asked lazily. ‘We could hardly be closer.’
‘If you think I was faking a fear of thunder and lightning,’ she said through her teeth, ‘if you think that wasn’t just about the worst example of it I’ve ever experienced, you’re mistaken. You…you have to be incredibly arrogant, not to mention even more of a typical man than I gave you credit for!’
He grinned. ‘All charges accepted, ma’am. Well, one thing I do know, the very womanly way you feel in my arms at the moment has me feeling all man, arrogant or otherwise.’
Damn you, she thought, it’s all too true. Her mind might take issue with it but her body was loving it, arrogant or whatever.
‘You’re taking advantage of me, Steve Kinane,’ she accused.
‘Mmm,’ he agreed, but as the lights came on she could see that he looked entirely unrepentant.
‘What happened to our purely business proposition?’
‘Flew out the window. It’s also occurred to me that since Rich is hiding under a bed I might as well make hay while the sun shines—terrible metaphor in the circumstances, but you know what I mean.’
‘I know exactly what you mean but that makes it even worse!’
‘Well, now,’ he drawled, ‘what makes it really interesting is that you should have felt so safe in my arms, Chattie. I doubt a man who was wholly repugnant to you would have had the same effect.’
She coloured delicately, she just couldn’t help herself, but her eyes were defiant. ‘I may have felt safe but I still haven’t forgotten the quip about stealing the silver, however it was made.’
He looked down at her thoughtfully. ‘And I’m still not sure what your intentions are, Miss Winslow, but it doesn’t alter the fact that it’s impossible for us to be like this and be physically unaffected.’
‘If you would let me go—’ she tried to keep her voice steady ‘—you would find that you’re quite safe from…my intentions.’
He smiled fleetingly. ‘Problem is, I don’t want to be safe from you—not like this, anyway.’
They stared into each other’s eyes. And Chattie discovered that, deep inside her, she didn’t want to be safe from this man. There was something about him that attracted her, something elementary and strangely powerful, but it was accompanied by so much she couldn’t rationalize, she’d be a fool to let herself be carried away…
‘There’s a little pulse at the base of your throat beating like a tom-tom,’ he said softly, and put his fingertip lightly on it.
She bit her lip.
‘And your mouth was made for kissing,’ he added barely audibly as that straying finger outlined her lips. ‘Why don’t we give it a test run?’
For the life of her, she couldn’t control the quiver of her lips any more than she could block from her senses the sheer impact of Steve Kinane’s body on hers. Hard and muscled, the impact was little short of electrifying.
‘Let’s not,’ she said huskily as she tried desperately to gather her defences. ‘This is ridiculous.’
‘On the contrary, this is a force between a man and a woman who are attracted to each other—and it can happen with nothing so pale and wishy-washy as “liking” involved at all,’ he said dryly.
‘No,’ she disagreed unevenly. ‘This is your way of showing the contempt you really feel for me. For instance, I’d like to bet my bottom dollar that once you’ve kissed me you will make some cutting reference to me and your brother.’
Something glinted briefly in his eyes but she couldn’t identify it. ‘OK.’ He shrugged. ‘You be the judge—of whether you even remember my brother afterwards.’
‘Steve,’ she said urgently, ‘no!’
‘Chattie, yes. You can always lay the blame on the storm if you like, I probably will. Or—’ his dark eyes glinted with something she could readily identify this time: wicked satire ‘—you could stick to the “typical man” bit but, whatever, I’m stuck on a course I can’t get off.’
If you dare respond to this, Charlotte Winslow, I’ll never speak to you again! she warned herself.
Only to have him read her mind—probably from the stubborn set of her lips. So he didn’t bother with them. He cradled he
r hips to him. She had on the three-quarter-length skirt and white blouse she’d worn the night before, but the thin floral cotton and a pair of bikini briefs were little protection against the feel of his hands on her bottom and she started to breathe raggedly. He raised a wry eyebrow.
Then he slid his hands up to around her waist. ‘I can nearly span this,’ he said softly. ‘Let me guess, twenty—twenty-one inches?’
‘That’s my business,’ she said huskily.
‘Well, I would…’ those tantalizing hands moved upwards to her ribcage ‘…estimate thirty-two, twenty-one, thirty-two.’
‘From your considerable experience of women, no doubt!’ Her eyes flashed.
‘Some,’ he agreed.
‘Then let me tell you, I despise men who go about mentally measuring busts, waists and hips!’
He smiled faintly. ‘You’re right, it’s rather adolescent and not a common occupation of mine—must be something about the perfection of your figure that got to me.’ He shrugged. ‘Mind you, it doesn’t help when you swing them.’ His hands descended again to her hips.
‘I don’t, deliberately,’ she denied. ‘I just—walk.’
‘Then it comes naturally? I’m glad,’ he murmured. ‘But it’s still a bit of a trial. Then there’s your skin. Another trial.’ This time he slid his hands up her arms. ‘Like silk,’ he commented. He circled his arms around her again. ‘And you’re so fair, it comes as a bit of a shock to discover all this delicate beauty has a mind like a steel trap.’
‘You better believe it,’ she warned, but it was getting harder and harder to maintain her hostility for the fact of the matter was that she was in a trap, a silken trap, she thought bitterly, but one of her own making?
She had always been scared of thunder and lightning—it was the one area where Bridget was the stronger of the two of them. Bridget loved storms provided she was safe from the destructive effects of them. She even seemed to gather a kind of kinetic energy from them. But how foolish had she, Chattie, been to reveal this weakness of hers to this man in this way?
In other words, could she absolve him of some of the blame because she’d brought about the situation unthinkingly? And was as vulnerable to it as he was, if she was painfully honest?
‘Miss Winslow?’ he said very quietly.
She swallowed. Nestled in his arms like this she could breathe in the pure man aroma of him as well as the freshly laundered tang of the bush shirt and clean jeans he’d changed into. She could see the blue shadows on his jaw and the lines beside his mouth—and the question in his eyes.
A little sob of pure frustration escaped her and she raised her hands to cup his face, then stood on her toes and kissed him lightly on the mouth. And said against his lips, ‘This may be my fault but it’s still insanity and it changes nothing. Will you let me go now, please?’
‘In a moment. I’m never one for leaving a task half finished.’
And he pulled her right into him, teased her lips apart and started to kiss her properly.
When he’d finished, she was quivering with desire, surrounded sensually by his strength and masculinity and completely focused on Steve Kinane—her enemy.
‘So,’ he said to her dazed look as he let her go, ‘what was so insane about that?’
She stared into his dark, saturnine eyes and did the only thing left for her to do—she swung on her heel and retreated to her bedroom.
Rich came out from under the bed to greet her eagerly and she patted him briefly, then leant back against the door to steady her breathing and take stock. But a more bizarre scenario she couldn’t envisage.
To fall for a man who was going to hate her by association if nothing else once he learnt the truth was—asking for trouble, she thought shakily. And why wouldn’t he put her in the same basket as Bridget? She was the one conniving to get Mark Kinane back to Bridget. Or, at least admit his responsibility towards her sister’s unborn child.
Nor could Steve have made his sentiments clearer towards Mark being trapped into marriage.
She straightened and went to sit on the bed with a sigh.
‘Tell him the truth now, Rich?’ she said wearily. ‘Before this gets totally out of hand? I think I’m going to have to. I don’t know why I just didn’t do it in the first place.’
She closed her eyes and mentally pictured Bridget at home and getting more and more disturbed as the days went by—and who knew how many more days would go by until Mark Kinane touched his home base?
Not only that but how many more days to endure in the company of a man who was diabolically attractive to you but didn’t trust you and could only end up despising you?
‘No, it’s madness,’ she said to Rich, and stood up. ‘I’ll tell him right now.’
She was halfway to the door when she heard a motor start up. Not Merlene’s bike with its distinctive roar but the ute Steve drove around the property.
‘Damn,’ she muttered. ‘Where’s he going at this time of night?’
Wherever it was, two hours later he still hadn’t returned and Chattie gave up and went to bed, but determined to have things out with Steve Kinane first thing in the morning.
Like many good intentions, it didn’t happen that way.
CHAPTER FIVE
AT STEVE’S request, Merlene joined them at breakfast the next morning before Chattie got a chance to get him on his own. So that, when she did encounter him for the first time that morning, it was not only in Merlene’s company, but Brett was labouring through his porridge as well.
Beyond exchanging cool glances, she and the boss of Mount Helena did not address each other but that cool, dark glance from Steve Kinane sent a shiver down her spine.
‘Looks like a council of war,’ Merlene commented as Chattie dished up steak and eggs.
‘You could say so,’ he said to Merlene. ‘We’ve got a house party coming up in a few days. Five people, two couples—thank you—’ Steve said to Chattie as she put his plate in front of him ‘—and a single. They’ll be here for two nights, Tuesday and Wednesday, arriving late Tuesday afternoon and leaving on Thursday morning after breakfast. On Wednesday I’d like a formal dinner party for ten. The other four people will be Harriet and Jack and the shire chairman and his wife.’
‘Uh-oh, it is a council of war!’ Merlene buttered her toast. ‘State of the roads, a drought relief fund for when the next one hits, noxious weed control?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed.
‘And designed to bring home to the pompous old git of a chairman the fact that he could get booted out at the next council election—good on yer!’
Steve grimaced. ‘In a civilized manner but basically—yes.’
‘’Bout time you ran yourself,’ Merlene commented. ‘Your dad did an excellent job.’
‘We’ll see,’ Steve said briefly. ‘But Chattie is going to need some more of your time, Merlene,’ he added.
Chattie opened her mouth to say that she wouldn’t be available for the house party but Merlene spoke immediately.
‘It’s no good asking me to wait tables or cook. I’m all thumbs at that kind of thing. But I guess I could make an exception and do dishes and help with the cleaning and tidying up.’
‘Thank you,’ Steve said gravely. ‘I’m sure Chattie would really appreciate it.’
‘Uh—yes, but—’
Brett interrupted. ‘Chattie, can I come and see Rich every day when Mum and Dad get home?’
‘Uh—yes, but—’
It was Steve who interrupted this time. ‘That’s the second time you’ve sounded less than positive,’ he said to her. ‘Come into the office for a moment, please.’ He got up.
Chattie took a very deep breath, and followed him.
He sat down at the desk but didn’t invite her to sit in the only other chair. He swivelled his chair sideways so he could watch her and said coldly, ‘You’re about to do a bunk, aren’t you?’
‘It would hardly be a bunk, since I have no real reason to be here, as you’ve poi
nted out several times,’ she commented.
‘I would have thought you now had an excellent reason to stay on.’ And he raked her from head to toe with a glance that was both insolent and contemptuous. ‘Going to pretend it didn’t happen, Chattie?’
She coloured but her eyes were steady. ‘What happened was due to—an involuntary but all the same—thoughtlessness on my part and—’
‘Like hell,’ he shot back. ‘Listen, if you feel you need some kind of a release from Mark to take up with his brother, you don’t. He is obviously finished with you, Miss Winslow. Do you honestly think he’d be driving halfway round the country otherwise?’
‘Look,’ she began, ‘things aren’t quite what they seem—’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ he broke in roughly. ‘So tell me why you came and why you’re about to scuttle away. Does Mark know something about you that mightn’t appeal to me? Something that could be—awkward for you were it to be revealed later? I’m thinking along the lines of a history of promiscuity, perhaps?’
Chattie went white and immediately made a decision that was quite contrary to the decision she had made the night before. ‘You misunderstand me, Mr Kinane,’ she said icily. ‘I was theorizing when I said that it would hardly be a bunk if I were to leave. In fact, I have no intention of leaving you in the lurch, not for the time being anyway, so you may relax.’
He sat up and frowned at her. ‘What about the things that aren’t quite what they “seem”?’
She shrugged. ‘Another mistaken impression of yours. I was not asking to be kissed last night. I have no intention of allowing it to happen again and I wouldn’t put it to the test if I were you otherwise you will find yourself even more short-staffed than you already are.’
His gaze narrowed and he rubbed his jaw. ‘So why were you so bloody hesitant in the kitchen?’
Chattie thought swiftly. ‘There are some things I need to know about this house party. It’s all very well to dump numbers in my lap but I need more than that.’
‘Like what?’ He eyed her suspiciously.
Perhaps it helps to have a mind like a steel trap, she reflected as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the desk, assuming an earnest expression. ‘Could you tell me a bit about these guests, please? It helps if you know who you’re catering for.’
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