Matilda, the Adventuress

by Iris Johansen

  Her tone was filled with apprehension, and he felt a poignant, aching tenderness toward her again. “I wouldn’t want you to be disillusioned regarding my ‘exquisite sensitivity.’ ”

  She hurled herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. “Oh, thank you, Roman. It won’t be long, I promise. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

  Her soft full breasts were pressed against his chest and he could feel the hard pointed pressure of her nipples through the thin layers of cloth that separated them. He inhaled deeply, trying to force oxygen into his suddenly constricted lungs. The muscles of his stomach knotted painfully. He gently pushed her away. “If you want me to wait more than a minute. I think you’d better avoid touching me. My control isn’t in top shape at the moment. Why don’t you finish making your sandwich?”

  “All right.” She began to prepare her sandwich. She had thrown herself into Roman’s arms with her usual impulsiveness, she realized, but she doubted if she’d ever be so casual again. Her body had reacted to their brief contact as if she had connected with an electric wire. “I noticed you have a mobile phone and that there’s a radio operator in the shed by the mess tent. I wonder if you’d let me phone my sisters later and give them your call number? Otherwise I’ll have to drive my Jeep into Coober Pedy every few days to keep in touch with them. I promise they won’t bother you except in a case of an emergency.”

  He nodded absently, his gaze on the fluctuating color in her cheeks. “Of course. You’re close to your sisters?”

  “Yes.” She looked up, an affectionate smile on her face. “We’re as different as the seasons, but we couldn’t be closer. I guess growing up on Killaroo was responsible for that. We didn’t have any other playmates for most of our childhood, so we had to learn to get along.”

  “Killaroo?”

  “Our sheep station in New South Wales. It’s been in our family for generations. I’d like you to see it.” Her eyes were glowing with warmth. “It’s so beautiful.”

  He smiled. “More beautiful than Arnhem Land or the Franklin Rapids?”

  “No, but Killaroo is … different.” She finished simply, “Killaroo is home. Where’s home for you?”

  His expression immediately became blank. “I was born in Perth.” He moved across the room to the refrigerator. “I’ll get the cheesecake for you.”

  He might as well have posted a No Trespassing sign, she thought sadly. But she had no reason to complain. They had become closer in the short time they’d shared together than she would have dreamed possible. His about-face had come so abruptly, it had made her a little uneasy. What had triggered his sudden reversal? She had seen something in his face.… She instinctively shied away from that line of thought. She was probably imagining it anyway. She would try to stop worrying and just enjoy their relationship. “Cut a piece for yourself. I don’t like to eat alone. I don’t like to do anything alone.”

  “Don’t you? I could have guessed that about you.” He took the cheesecake out of the refrigerator. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you be alone.”

  “There was someone watching you last night.”

  Manda’s gaze rose swiftly from the map of the mine which was spread out on the ground in front of her to rest on Jacto’s face. “Who?”

  “I do not know. I saw footprints and four cigarette butts by the ghost gum tree at the billabong.” He nodded at a bleach-barked tree several hundred yards away. “He stayed a very long time. First standing, and then squatting.”

  “Are you—” She broke off. Of course he was sure. Jacto was a wonderful tracker. “Someone from the film company?”

  He shrugged. “Who else? Do not worry. I’ll find out tonight who he is and we will be on our guard against him.”

  “No.” Her tone was sharp. Jacto was deadly with a boomerang and a hunting knife, but he was still an old man. The thought that someone would come down to their camp in the middle of the night to keep them under surveillance was icily menacing. “It was probably somebody with an overdeveloped curiosity who wanted to see what we were up to.”

  Jacto looked at her skeptically without answering. He knew as well as she what a fever prospecting for opals generated in some individuals. How many murders had taken place on this very ridge over the years? There was no reason why things should be any different now. Time passed, but human nature remained the same.

  She ruffled her hair wearily. “For heaven’s sake, the field is played out. Do they think I’m going to make a major strike?”

  “You work very hard. It’s reasonable to think there is a purpose for such effort.” He smiled faintly. “And you know many fine opals have been found in supposedly played-out mines.”

  “Just throw your hat over your shoulder and dig where it lands,” she quoted with a grimace. “You know, I’m almost tempted to try to find my own Black Flame while I’m down in that shaft. It would be a hell of a lot less exasperating than looking for Charlie’s. But, unfortunately, forty-five-carat opals don’t turn up every day or even every century.” Her attention returned to the map. “There are only two more tunnels. I should be through with this one by the end of the week.” She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. “You know, I found something sad down there. There are drawings on the walls of this tunnel. Nothing elaborate. Just sketches of birds and trees. Sort of like the ones your ancestors made in the caves at Kakadu. Some of them are just broken remnants where a miner has mutilated them drilling for opals. They have to be Charlie’s work. According to Mignon’s journal, Charlie was an artist and he wanted the opal money only so he could go to Paris and study. Can’t you imagine him down there, painting by lantern light, trying to escape from the violence and greed of Deadman’s Ridge?” She shook her head sadly. “But the violence found him anyway. I guess I’ve been thinking of Charlie as a phantom figure, even a caricature, but lately he’s come alive for me. Do you know he was only twenty-six years old when he was murdered? That’s only two years older than I am right now. He had a wife and a child and he wanted to live. When I discovered that first painting of a bowerbird, I felt like howling like a baby.” She laughed shakily. “Lord, I sound stupid.”

  “You are only tired.” He glanced away. “You are going to Gallagher again tonight?”

  “As soon as I get enough energy to move. It’s so humid I can’t breathe.”

  “It will soon be better. It will rain before sundown.”

  Sundown was only an hour away, and there wasn’t a sign of a cloud in the pale white-blue of the sky, but she didn’t question the statement. If Jacto said there would be rain, there would be rain. “That will be a relief. Maybe it’ll cool things off a little.” She folded the map and tucked it into her knapsack. “Why don’t you come with me tonight? I want you to meet Roman, and you could use a hearty meal.”

  “No.”

  She sighed. Jacto was acting very peculiar lately. In the past three days since Roman had sent for her, he had stubbornly refused to go with her to the encampment to meet Roman. There appeared to be no animosity in his refusal, he just didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with the man.

  “I’ll bring you something then. I’ll be back before ten.” She suddenly frowned. “And don’t you go looking for our snoop while I’m gone.”

  His black eyes were limpid. “Why would an old man like me go out in the rain and risk a chill? As you say, perhaps there is no danger.”

  “Jacto …” She could tell by his expression he wouldn’t be swayed by anything she could say. She could only hope the rain would discourage any intruders. “Oh, do you what you like. You will anyway, dammit.”

  “You always were a wise child.”

  A reluctant smile curved her lips as she glanced at his bland face over her shoulder. “I’m almost twenty-four years old. I’m not the eighteen-year-old kid you met in Arnhem Land six years ago.”

  “You are older, but you are still that child.” For an instant there was a flicker of the same melancholy she had seen in Roman’s expression three days ago.
“For now.”

  She laughed as she shook her head. “I’ll always be a child to you, Jacto.” She waved. “Take care of yourself. I’ll bring you some of Roman’s espresso.”

  Her smile gradually faded as she crossed the field toward the encampment in the distance. Roman was filming beyond the west ridge today, and the location appeared deserted. All of a sudden, she felt very much alone in the stark silence of the vast desolation surrounding her. She could now see a faint darkening of the sky as storm clouds began to roll across the horizon from the west.

  It wasn’t the only storm that was gathering in her life, she thought. Sexual tension had been crackling between Roman and her with electric force for the last three days, and an explosion was imminent. She found herself torn between eager excitement and a strange, uncharacteristic feeling of shyness. She had believed she would get over her initial nervousness once she got to know Roman better, but spending time with him had done little to alleviate it.

  She was happy she’d had some breathing space, however, and all she had learned of Roman was infinitely reassuring. Beneath his facade of harsh cynicism was a man with entirely different qualities. He could be gentle, and he was both perceptive and brilliant. In fact, he was everything she wanted in a man. He handled his crew with intelligence, decisiveness, and the saving grace of a dry sense of humor. She knew now that he had a passion for poker, an obsession for his chosen profession, and more patience than she had first given him credit for. Yet everything she had learned about him concerned the present. He never mentioned either his family or his past.

  Well, what could she expect? She hadn’t been able to be entirely open with him either. She had been tempted many times to break the agreement she had made with her sisters, Sydney and Addie, and tell him why she was in Deadman’s Ridge, but she had always changed her mind at the last minute. The bond she was forging with Roman was very new and fragile. The bond that bound her to Sydney and Addie had roots formed through a lifetime of trust and love. She could never betray that trust, not even for Roman.

  She heard a throbbing sound, and her head lifted eagerly. Sound carried uncannily in this vast wasteland, and the hum of a Jeep motor could be heard for many miles. Her gaze searched the west ridge, where the purple-black clouds were now a solid bank on its horizon. Her heart was suddenly pounding with anticipation. She couldn’t see him yet, but she knew he was coming. Her steps quickened as she moved toward the gleaming silver mobile home in the encampment. He was coming!

  Four

  She ran to meet him as his Jeep pulled to a stop by the trailer. “There’s going to be a storm.”

  “I know.” Roman was frowning as he stepped out of the Jeep. “That’s why we had to pack up and come back early. Dammit, we had another hour of shooting to do.”

  “I’ve never seen a storm in the desert.” Her amber eyes were incandescent with excitement. “Have you?”

  “Once or twice.” His frown was replaced by an indulgent smile as he looked at her glowing face. “Do you mean there’s actually something you haven’t experienced?”

  “All sorts of things. But I still have plenty of time.” She jumped into the passenger seat of the Jeep. “Come on. Let’s go to meet it.”

  “We have to ride on a dirt road. We’ll be lucky if we don’t mire down and get stuck overnight.”

  “I don’t care.” She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through her hair. The breeze that touched her cheeks was moist and cool and scented pungently with spinifix and the eucalyptus of the ghost gum trees. “I want to be there. And I want you to be there with me. Please, Roman.”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “I must be crazy. I’m tired and hungry.…” He stepped back into the Jeep and started the ignition. “And I’m going with you.”

  Her laughter pealed out joyously. “I knew you would. You’re going to enjoy it as much as I will.”

  His grin became reckless. “You’re damn right I will.”

  He backed up and turned the Jeep, lifting his hand in a mocking salute as he passed another Jeep occupied by Brent and Dennis that was just pulling into the encampment. “Even if my entire production team does think I’ve gone bonkers.” He stomped on the accelerator and the Jeep leaped forward.

  It was wonderful! The speed of the Jeep, the roughness of the road beneath their wheels, the moist wind tearing at her hair. Lightning pierced the roiling dark clouds with tinsel flares of silver. She felt as if they were alone in the world. Pure desolation surrounded them on all sides, and yet she had never felt more vibrantly alive.

  She suddenly jumped to her feet, gripping the windshield tightly with both hands. Without the protective barrier of the windshield, the force of the wind was painful, as if it were trying to rip her hair from her scalp.

  “For heaven’s sake, sit down. If we hit a bump, you’ll be tossed out.” Roman reached out with one hand and jerked her back onto her seat. He was laughing, too, his dark eyes shining with the same wild exhilaration she was feeling.

  “I love it,” she shouted over the roar of the wind and the motor. “Oh, I love it, Roman.”

  “I know you do.”

  “And you love it too. I can see you do. Say it, Roman.”

  “I love it,” he shouted, and his laughter rang out over the desert and joined with the wind and the thunder.

  The rain suddenly poured from the sky in sheets, drenching them both in seconds and turning the road into a cinnamon-brown stream.

  It was all wonderful. The stinging wildness of the rain only added to the excitement of the moment. “Let’s go on forever. I never want to stop—” She broke off as the Jeep swerved and then skidded crazily across the road.

  It was over in a second, and Roman had the Jeep under control again. His breath was coming in shuddering gasps as his hands clutched the steering wheel with white-knuckled force. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead and drops of rain were running down his cheeks and into the open collar of his shirt. “That’s it.” He turned the wheel ninety degrees. “It’s over. We’re going back to camp.”

  “No, I want—”

  “We’re going back,” he interrupted harshly. “Dammit, the Jeep could have overturned back there. I could have killed you, and you still want to go on.”

  She laughed softly. Her face was being washed by the spring rain, her hair was wet and felt gloriously wild and free, and Roman had been so worried about her he had turned pale and shouted at her. To know Roman cared that much for her was even more wonderful than the experience of driving through the storm. “All right, we’ll go back. You don’t have to get so uptight about it.”

  “Uptight! Dammit, you—” He stopped and drew a deep breath. “Look, just be quiet until we get back to camp, will you? I’m having enough trouble keeping this blasted Jeep on the road without worrying about holding on to my temper too.”

  “Whatever you say.” Her lashes lowered demurely to veil the mischief in her eyes. “I certainly didn’t mean to upset you.”

  He cast her a glowering look and muttered a curse beneath his breath.

  Dennis was coming out of the mess tent as they drove into the encampment, and he made a face as the Jeep splattered muddy water on the bottoms of his khaki trousers. “Blast it, Roman, I’m already wet to the skin. You didn’t have to give me a mud bath.”

  Roman pulled the Jeep up in front of his mobile home and turned off the ignition. “Sorry,” he said tersely. “I suggest you stay inside if you don’t want to get splattered. The whole damn desert is a bloody swamp.”

  Dennis lifted a sandy brow. “Peevish, aren’t we? I wanted to see you as soon as you came back. How the hell do you expect me to get four camels into my Cessna? It’s not a blasted transport plane, you know.”

  Roman frowned. “Don’t be an ass. I didn’t say you had to fly in the camels. They’re going to be trucked overland from Sydney. Who said I wanted you to—” He stopped. “Don’t tell me. Brent Penrose.”

  Dennis nodded. “I should have known he was
putting me on.” His gaze shifted to Manda, who was shaking with laughter. “You don’t have to enjoy it so damn much.”

  “Sorry, Dennis.” She jumped from the Jeep and ran over to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I just had a picture of you crowded in that six-seat Cessna playing baby-sitter to four camels.” She went off again into gales of laughter and whirled him in a circle before releasing him. “Besides, I feel good. Isn’t this a wonderful day?”

  The thunder was still rumbling, the rain was still falling, and they were all soaked. Yet Dennis found himself nodding as he stared bemusedly at her luminous face. “A fine day if you’re a duck.”

  “But I’m not a duck.” She spun away from him, her arms outstretched as if she were about to fly. “I’m a swan. Have I told you how much my sister Sydney loves swans, Roman?”

  “No.” He was gazing at her with the same bemused expression as Dennis.

  “Well, she does.” She whirled in a circle. “Black swans.”

  “Your feathers are getting sodden, Madame Swan,” Roman said gruffly. “Suppose you run inside and let them dry.”

  She smiled brilliantly. “Okay.” She leaped up the metal steps and disappeared into the interior of the mobile home.

  Both men gazed after her in silence for a long moment.

  Dennis chuckled. “Didn’t I tell you she was a bloody Lorelei?”

  Roman slowly shook his head, his heavy lids shadowing his eyes. “No, you were wrong. She’s no Lorelei.” He moved around the Jeep toward the trailer. “She’s Peter Pan.”

  • • •

  As Manda came out of the bathroom dabbing at her wet hair with a large white towel, Roman walked in. She tossed him the other towel she had draped over her arm.

  “I thought you’d want to dry your feathers too. We’re both so wet we’re making puddles. What’s this about camels?”

  He caught the towel and began to wipe the moisture running down his face from his wet hair. “I want the picture to be as authentic as possible, and quite a few of the gold and opal miners used camels instead of donkeys and horses as pack animals.” He smiled. “I don’t blame Dennis for being upset at the idea of sharing his precious Cessna with those animals. They’re notoriously bad-tempered, and even their trainer has a problem putting them through their paces. Dennis is probably tracking Brent down now to get even with him for his little joke.”