She had a shadowy view of his gorgeous profile, and she saw the muscles in his throat clench, let go, and clench again.
‘You drive me wild,’ he said softly. ‘The way you fix your hair fascinates me. The warmth in your eyes touches me, deep inside. There’s so much joy and beauty in you, Lily, and I—I wanted some of it for myself.’ His voice cracked, and he had to take a deep breath. ‘I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.’
‘Daniel—’ Her own throat was so tight her voice emerged as a croak. ‘For heaven’s sake, don’t be sorry.’ She swallowed and blinked. ‘I’m flattered—really flattered.’ She took a step closer. ‘I’m not exactly in the habit of quizzing guys after they’ve kissed me, but if I had been I’m sure no other man could have offered a lovelier answer.’
He turned to her. His face was still in shadow, but she could see the glittering brightness in his eyes. She reached for his hands and felt them tremble at her touch. ‘And, if you still feel that way, I’d really like you to kiss me again.’
She lifted his hands to her cheeks.
His fingertips caressed her. ‘You’re burning,’ he whispered.
Of course she was burning. She was burning with anticipation. If Daniel didn’t kiss her, she might explode like a firecracker.
But to her dismay he wrenched his hands from her again and stood staring down at them. She saw that they were shaking. Daniel was shaking. And he was staring at his hands with an expression of stark pain and horror.
After what felt like ages, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she saw the true depth of his pain—such a cruel pain—a pain that he didn’t deserve.
‘You—you know what these…’ He turned his hands palms down, and she saw strong veins standing out against his suntan. Then he turned them palms up again, and she saw work-toughened calluses. He continued to stare at them. ‘You know what these hands have done.’
Her heart almost broke for him. ‘They defended a helpless old man.’
She interlaced her fingers with his, and together they stood, looking down. In the shadows and flickering candlelight her hands looked slender and pale against the darkness and roughness of his—like the moon inside clouds.
Heart thrumming, she dipped her head and pressed a kiss against the inside of his right wrist, and then his left. She kissed his palms.
‘Lily.’ His whisper was a warning, a choked plea for her to release him.
She shook her head slowly. And once again she took his hands and guided them—to her shoulders this time. Heart racing, she moved closer, praying that he wouldn’t push her aside. Her hips settled against his, and she heard the sharp inrush of his breath.
The pads of his thumbs touched the bare skin at her collarbone, and every cell in her strained for more.
‘Your hands are beautiful, Daniel,’ she told him in a heated, husky whisper. ‘And I want them. I want them all over me.’
A muffled groan broke from him, and for one heart-shattering moment she thought that now, at the last moment, he was going to walk away from her and leave her to drown in humiliation and misery.
But then, at last, he cupped her face, and she saw the nakedness of his hunger and the need in his eyes. He drew her swiftly to him, and his mouth covered hers, and she let the last of her worries dissolve.
Moonlight bathed Lily as she lay in Daniel’s bed, too excited and moved to sleep.
Tonight’s lovemaking had been the first time in a long time for both of them, and they’d stumbled into this room, feverish and fumbling, wanting everything at once—to touch and to be touched, to kiss and to cling, to shed their clothing and to plunge headlong into the maelstrom of passion.
But after the first obsessive, fiery conflagration they’d lain still in each other’s arms, letting their breathing return to normal and the mad beating of their hearts slow. And then they’d taken their time.
They’d made leisurely, lingering, sensuous love, sharing deep, deep kisses and languid, teasing caresses.
Lily had never experienced such blissful, honest intimacy. And afterwards she and Daniel had held each other, with hearts so happy and full that they’d both had tears in their eyes.
And she knew that, whatever course the rest of her life might take, she would never forget this exquisite, magical night.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT WAS MID-MORNING when Lily opened the last of the closed doors in Daniel’s house.
She’d tried another door first, but it had been locked. She’d had to go hunting until she found the key, hanging on a hook in the kitchen, and she’d opened the door to discover a desk with a computer, a telephone, a fax machine and walls lined with filing cabinets, as well as shelves of folders bulging with papers.
It had to be Daniel’s office, and she hadn’t liked to start cleaning there without consulting him first. So she’d moved on to the next room—the last room.
As soon as she opened it she knew there was something very important that Daniel still hadn’t told her.
This was a child’s room—and, despite the dust, the ponyprint fabric used for the curtains and the bedspread, everything about the room, screamed girl! Lily stood gripping the doorknob as she took it all in.
An ancient pink dolls’ bed in the corner was piled with dolls and teddy bears and other assorted stuffed toys. A collection of pennants, ribbons and certificates for prizes in pony club events hung on the side of the wardrobe. A rose-coloured china tray on top of the chest of drawers held an assortment of hairclips, pins, bead bracelets and ribbons.
The titles of the books crammed on the bookshelf showed a high proportion of stories about ballet schools, pony clubs and princesses. The little wooden table beside the window had probably served as a homework desk, and was painted pale green. And above it there was a cork board covered with pictures of ponies. There was one with the name ‘Grasshopper’ printed carefully in green and purple crayon, and there was a calendar from two years ago. And a photograph of five little girls aged about eight or nine.
Lily crossed the room to look at the photo more closely. It had been taken on the front veranda of Daniel’s house, and the girls were gathered around the same cane table she and Daniel had used for dinner last night.
In front of one of the girls sat a fat birthday cake, decorated with pink icing, blue writing and yellow flowers with mint leaves. A cluster of pastel-coloured candles had been lit, but they were too close together for Lily to count them.
The girls were laughing, especially the one in the middle—a slim, pretty child with shoulder-length dark hair and sparkling, familiar blue eyes. She looked so much like Daniel she had to be his daughter.
Shocked, Lily looked around the room again, searching for more clues. She picked up a book from the bookshelf, opened it, and saw, listed on the flyleaf in a childish hand:
Jessica Renton.
Ironbark Station.
Via Gidgee Springs.
North Queensland.
Australia.
Planet Earth.
Lily’s chest squeezed tight. She set the book aside and selected another, and then another and another. They nearly all had Jessica’s name inside. And then she found one with an adult’s handwriting:
To dearest Jess, with a mountain of love from Daddy, on your ninth birthday.
It had been dated—March, two years ago.
Lily felt so sick she sank onto the edge of the bed. A little girl, who looked like Daniel, had lived in this house, had slept and dreamed in this room. She had to be Daniel’s daughter.
But if Daniel had a daughter where had the poor child gone while he was in jail? And where was she now? Why hadn’t he rushed to collect her as soon as he’d been released? Why hadn’t he mentioned her?
Her fingers traced the outline of a pony on the bedspread. She pictured Jessica Renton living here, going each day on the school bus to the sweet little school in Gidgee Springs, having friends home on weekends for sleepovers, learning to swim in the river, going to pony club on Saturday afternoons,
happy and secure, with Daniel as her father. Together. A little team.
Until…
Daniel had gone to prison.
While he’d been away, someone must have cared for Jess—either a relative or the State. But Daniel was home now. Why wasn’t Jess here, too? Surely he hadn’t abandoned her? Not Daniel!
She could not believe it!
* * *
Daniel swam strongly across the river, striking the water’s smooth surface with powerful over-arm thrusts. He felt happy, happier than he had in a long, long time.
And it wasn’t simply because he’d had sex last night. Lily had given him so much more than her body. In the past few days he’d felt the huge black shadow that had weighed him down begin to shift. He’d felt, at last, a glimmer of hope that at some time in the future the dark burden would slip from his shoulders completely and he would be free at last.
His whirling arms smashed the water. Free. Free. Free.
And it was Lily he should thank.
Open-hearted, loving, generous Lily—who, by some weird and wonderful twist of fate, had stumbled onto his property and into his life—was a gift from the gods. And he—poor, blighted fool—had done his best to turn her away, to throw her back.
Thank heavens for her tenacity.
He reached the far bank and turned, striking back the way he’d come, revelling in the cool, buoyant water.
Near the bank again, he paused briefly to reassure Smiley as she watched him, and then he turned again, swimming on, his mind toying with brand-new thoughts—so different from those that had tormented him most days when he’d swum here.
He wondered what Lily’s plans were. He knew she was worried about her mother and would want to get back to her. But was it possible that, at some time in the months ahead, Lily might want to come back here? Could he expect her to want to hang around on an Outback cattle property? Cara had hated it here, but Lily was different…wasn’t she?
Daniel surged on, more strongly than ever, buoyed by an unfamiliar sense of optimism. Finally, he left the water. Time for lunch.
He stood for a moment on the bank and looked back at the river, watching its surface grow calm again now that he’d left it. He stooped to scratch Smiley’s head, and she wagged her tail and gave small doggy noises of appreciation.
Crouching beside her, he hugged her and let her give his shoulder a loving lick. ‘Thanks, mate.’
A couple of days ago he would have been certain that this was all he needed—his home and a dog, man’s best friend. He hadn’t dared to entertain fantasies about the future. He hadn’t wanted to think about the long, dreary days ahead of him. But now he couldn’t help dreaming about the remote possibility of a smooth and happy, ongoing relationship with Lily.
Even the eventual possibility of having Jess home again.
No, he was jumping the gun. It was foolish to try to think too far ahead.
He stood slowly, stretched his exercised limbs, and drank in the languid stillness of the afternoon, the sun’s drying warmth on his naked body. Then he crossed to the bundle of clothes he’d left on the riverbank.
And, as he bent to grab his jeans, he saw Lily sitting in the shade of an acacia tree.
She dropped her gaze, but she knew it was too late to pretend that she hadn’t been taking a good, long look at Daniel naked. In spite of last night’s intimacy, she felt her face flame.
‘What are you doing here?’ he called.
‘Waiting for you.’ She kept her eyes lowered, but was intensely aware of his rough movements as he dragged on his jeans. It wasn’t till she heard the rasp of a zip that she looked up, and her heart seemed to leap, then hang in mid-air.
He looked just as he had on the day she’d first met him, with his sculpted muscles glistening in the sun, his dark hair wild and wet, his faded jeans riding low on his hips—but today, instead of sending her a dark scowl, he looked halfway between stunned and delighted.
‘How did you get here?’ he asked.
‘I walked.’
‘You walked? It’s five kilometres.’ His eyebrows lifted high. ‘How did you know I was here?’
‘I took a guess.’ She tried to smile, but it didn’t work. She was too nervous. All morning she’d been consumed with anxiety and curiosity about Daniel’s daughter. Why hadn’t he brought her home? The problem was, calmness and common sense deserted her when she came head to head with the subject of fathers abandoning their daughters. Her own hurt and pain got in the way.
She’d been worried that Daniel might not return to the house till late in the day, and she’d known she’d burst if she had to wait till then. So she’d simply had to come to find him.
She patted the handle of the basket beside her. ‘I knew you must be hungry, so I brought your lunch. Curried-egg and lettuce sandwiches, and a Thermos of tea. And a lemon cake.’
He grinned. ‘A lemon cake?’
‘It’s a Greek recipe. I found it in a magazine. I poured warm lemon syrup over the cake as soon as it came out of the oven. I hope it’s good. The recipe sounded delicious.’
‘I’m sure it is.’ Shirt in hand, he came towards her slowly, smiling uncertainly. He was watching her cautiously as he lowered himself beside her. ‘Is something the matter?’
Damn. He must be able to sense how uptight and nervous she was.
‘I hope not,’ she said. ‘But I did find something this morning…’ She felt a moment’s panic, and couldn’t think of the right way to introduce the subject of Jessica.
Daniel frowned. ‘What? What was it?’
She handed him a round of sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper. ‘I opened the last door, Daniel. Not your study. I thought it might be best if I talked to you about that before I tried to clean it. So I went into the other room—’ She paused, took a hurried breath. ‘The little girl’s bedroom.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Daniel said faintly, not meeting her gaze. With an excessive lack of haste, he set the packet of sandwiches on the sandy ground near his knee. ‘That’s Jessica’s room. I—I meant to explain.’
Lily ran an anxious tongue over her lips. ‘Is Jessica your daughter?’
‘Yes, she most certainly is.’ His intense blue gaze studied her.
Lily flushed and shook her head, but then she had to ask, ‘Where is she, Daniel?’
His jaw squared defensively. ‘She’s living in Sydney with her grandmother.’
‘Why?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? You know where I’ve been for the past eighteen months.’
Lily plucked at a stalk of grass. ‘But why didn’t you bring her home with you? Why isn’t she here now?’
‘She’s better off at her grandmother’s.’
In one angry, swift movement, Daniel leapt to his feet. ‘For heaven’s sake, Lily, what’s got into you? Why so many questions? What would you know about this?’
‘Quite a bit, actually.’
Astonishment froze Daniel. He stood, open-mouthed, hands on hips, staring down at her.
‘I—I know how Jess feels,’ she said, and all at once her face crumpled like a child’s and she burst into tears.
He was crouching beside her in an instant, his hands on her shoulders, holding her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she spluttered.
‘It’s OK.’ His voice soothed her; his hands gentled her as he rubbed her arms.
Lily sniffed. ‘I told you I had emotional baggage. Well, here’s the evidence. It catches up with me when I least expect it.’
‘So what’s this about?’
‘Lingering issues—to do with my father.’
‘Marcus Halliday?’
She nodded. ‘He left my mother and me when I was five, you see. And I adored him. I couldn’t believe it when he left. I never really got over it. I—I never forgave him.’
‘Never?’ Daniel had turned quite pale beneath his tan. ‘But you still had your mother, didn’t you? Aren’t you and she close?’
‘Yes. But my feelings for her have never been as
complicated and deep as they were for my father. I’m not sure why. Perhaps because she was always there. She wasn’t a mystery. Marcus was obscure. And glamorous. Splendid, really. Larger than life. And he painted little stones for me. A little family.’
‘Stones?’ As Daniel settled onto the grass beside her, he raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘That was a big deal?’
Lily allowed herself the luxury of a childish pout. ‘Those little stones happen to be the most significant present I’ve ever received.’
‘Right.’
‘Which only serves to prove how hung-up I am.’ Her lips curved into a rueful smile. ‘I know I should have got over him long ago. And it was wrong of me to draw comparisons. Jess’s situation is different from mine. Totally.’ She shot Daniel a hasty glance. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Totally,’ Daniel said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
Lily sat, hugging her knees, and he sank back onto the grass and lay with his hands stacked beneath his head, staring up through the criss-cross of acacia branches to the pale afternoon sky.
Both seemed to have forgotten the picnic lunch.
‘I decided Jess was better off staying with her grandmother,’ Daniel said at last. ‘I wanted to protect her.’
‘What from?’
His mouth thinned into a bitter downward curve ‘From the stigma of having a criminal for a father.’
‘Daniel, you were never a criminal.’
‘I might as well have been. The results were the same. Jess still had a father in jail, for God’s sake.’
He stared at the sky, and Lily, sensing there was more he wanted to say, waited.
‘But I—I don’t really know how Jess felt about it,’ he admitted at last. ‘Her grandmother kept her away from the trial. From everything. And Susan’s convinced Jess is still better off in Sydney, well away from me.’
‘How does Jess feel about that?’
Daniel closed his eyes, and Lily wondered if he was holding back tears.
‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘You haven’t telephoned her?’
He shook his head.
Carefully, she asked, ‘You got on well with her before, didn’t you? Before you went away?’
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