Australia's Maverick Millionaire

by Margaret Way

  “Sure is, Ms Templeton.” The name Templeton pealed good and loud. “I could take you there, only look—there he is.” He pointed to a sage-coloured house with white trim two doors across and down. “Josh is one developer who involves himself in every step of the project. He keeps us all up to the mark, especially when he offers incentives,” he added with a grin.

  “The entire project looks very attractive,” Clio commented with obvious approval. “People with children will love living here with all the green spaces.”

  “Plans for that too, ma’am.” The foreman saluted, taking his leave.

  Clio began her move to cross the street. She was so uptight she felt more like she was swimming against a tide than walking towards him.

  The sight of her rocked Josh’s heart. Pure elation. It had been a shockingly painful business keeping his distance. He knew Clio had insisted her father stay at the house until he was feeling better. He understood that. She was a loving daughter. But with Lyle Templeton at the house, he was barred from it.

  “Hello, Josh,” she said quietly as they met.

  “Hi!” She was wearing one of her sophisticated little designer business suits. “How are you?” His voice was very measured and firm, despite having to fight the urge to pull her into his arms. They ached with the restraint.

  “Missing you,” she said, and felt like laughing at the understatement.

  “Works both ways.” His response was terse. “I didn’t think I’d be welcome at the house and, quite frankly, I know I couldn’t tolerate your father. Not at the moment.”

  His face in the sunlight was like a living sculpture, his fine-textured skin gleaming with the lightest sweat. She had a startling image of him naked in bed with her such was his sexual aura. “I understand that, Josh,” she said, swallowing against a dry throat. “I’m sorry. You need your space.”

  He nodded assent. “I need to cool off, Clio. How is he anyway?”

  She ran her hand around her nape. She was wearing her long hair coiled against the heat but little tendrils were breaking out. “He’s making a good recovery. He wants the opportunity to thank you in person for having saved his life.”

  Josh resisted a jeer. “I would have done it for anyone, Clio.”

  A moan escaped her. “Oh, God, I should have asked you straight away. How’s your leg?”

  He glanced down. He was wearing a white cotton shirt with epaulettes and khaki cargo pants. “It’s fine. I heal quickly. There’ll be no scarring.”

  “I’m so glad,” she breathed, nervous with him despite herself. “Believe it or not, the accident shook Dad up to the degree he’s almost his old self again.”

  “And what self would that be?” Josh asked sardonically.

  “Oh, God, Josh!” There was a flush of shame in her cheeks. “Dad is seriously shocked by the way he’s been acting.”

  “Really!” He took her arm, leading her into the shade of a flowering poinciana. “Was he trying to run me off the road, kill me or what?”

  “He was completely screwed up.”

  “You think that exonerates him?”

  A fallen poinciana blossom brushed her cheek. “I beg your forgiveness, Josh, and I applaud your magnanimity. You could have pressed charges. McMannus had to let it all go.’

  “When our cover story was a total nonsense.” Josh gave a harsh laugh. “I would have pressed charges, Clio, if for you. There’s not another person in the world I would have done it for. Your father is a rich man. Why doesn’t he retire?”

  Clio bit her lip. “He’s too young to retire, Josh. He’s only in his early fifties.”

  “I don’t think he should be practising law, do you?” Josh stared down into her beautiful, distressed face.

  “He’d like you to come to the house—”

  Josh held up his hand. “No way, Clio. Not even for you.”

  “Okay,” she sighed. “I accept that. But it’s been hard not seeing you.”

  “Not nearly as hard as it’s been for me.” He was employing every ounce of his powerful self-control. It had been his shield for so long it was nearly impossible to put it down. He couldn’t reach for her, as he desperately wanted to. He had to give her time. She had to realize her position. She had to know in choosing him over her father and her extended family she would be burning her bridges.

  Clio looked around her. Respite from her strong emotions. What once had been a wilderness of bushland had been turned into a housing development that took full account of the environment. “You should be proud of what you’re doing here, Josh,” she said with unfeigned admiration. “Your foreman thinks the world of you.”

  “He’s paid to think the world of me.” His smile was sudden, fantastic.

  She almost had to close her eyes. “Everyone despised Paddy Crowley as a developer,” she pointed out. “By the way, Jimmy intends to take his mother with him to live in Brisbane.”

  “Good thinking,” Josh commented dryly. “I just hope Jimmy’s at home with a baseball bat in hand when his mother tells that brute of a husband she’s leaving him for good.”

  “Vince Crowley knows he’s under close scrutiny.”

  Josh gazed down at her, his expression concerned. What did Clio know about psychopaths? “He’s dangerous, Clio,” he warned. “Like all psychos. At the end of the day no one has control over them. Take it from me. I know. Then there’s the Crowley family humiliation. Paddy is no longer the big man in town. He confidently expected to be with Leo gone.”

  “God bless the guy who put the skids under him,” she said with feeling. “Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it? By the way, do you know someone by the name of Philippa Jones?” She spoke in a matter-of-fact manner. “Goes by the nickname of Flippa?”

  “God, is it important?” Josh asked with faint impatience. He didn’t want to waste precious time with Clio talking about a total stranger. “Who is she, someone from Sea World?”

  “She could be.” Clio had no difficulty telling the lie. “Never mind.”

  “Don’t know her. Sorry,” Josh said. “Do you feel like a cup of coffee?”

  It was an invitation she couldn’t resist. “Oh, yes, please.”

  “Come on, then. We need to take your car. Mine’s in for service.”

  She stopped short, an expression of dismay crossing her face. “Josh, the Porsche was damaged, of course. I am just so ashamed.”

  He laughed aloud. “And that really hurt, Clio. I love my car.”

  “I’ll buy you another,” she said. “I wish you loved me.”

  His eyes, blue as the blue in crackling flames, swept over her. “We have had our wild, glorious moments, haven’t we?”

  “You’re a strange man,” she said.

  “Aren’t I.” All he knew was his desire for her.

  “You are.”

  “But you want to be with me?”

  “I do indeed. Sorry about that.”

  He gave her a straight look. “Clio, I’ve given you fair warning you of my flaws.”

  “Who hasn’t got them?” she asked. “My father, who has enjoyed every privilege in life, tried to run you off the road at the very least. Whatever happened to you, Josh, and I hope one day you will tell me, you were the innocent victim. Dad was the transgressor.”

  He focused on some point over her head, relieved beyond words at the clear way she saw it. It was a liberation. “I have no intention of letting your father get away with another one of his crazy stunts, Clio.”

  She could see he was in deadly earnest. “Josh, there’s absolutely no chance of that.”

  “Maybe you don’t know your father as well as you think,” he said as they moved on. “When is he going home, by the way?”

  “In the next few days. He’s been invited to a big birthday bash in Auckland at the weekend. It’s for Louise Cartwright, the biographer. Tim and Anne Maxwell are going too. They were all at university together.” She went to cross to the driver’s side, but Josh said, “Give me the keys.”

 
; “I’ll let you loan it if you like.” Clio said very sweetly and sincerely, tossing the heavy keyring and watching him catch it neatly.

  “Could I take it to a party tonight?” he asked, his eyes challenging her.

  She didn’t hesitate. “I suppose, if you like. What party?” That came out sharper than she’d intended.

  “Just testing.” He opened the passenger door for her.

  “I actually don’t want to go to a party and you can’t party at home.”

  Spot on there.

  “For God’s sake, I thought you had long legs.” He groaned as he adjusted the driver’s seat.

  “Come on! You’re six-three.”

  “I don’t know if you remember back to the time when I took a Beemer for a spin?” He turned to her with a beautiful, uncomplicated smile.

  It was wonderful to be able to smile back. “It belonged to the very posh Georgina Reed.”

  Josh laughed. “No damage done. Actually, she was very nice about it.”

  “I bet!” she returned dryly. “Just mind how you go now.” Clio let her eyes rest on his profile, the perfect straight nose, the prominent cheekbones and sculpted chin. “Sure you won’t come back to the house with me?”

  He threw her a droll look. “No, no, a thousand times no, Clio. Please don’t be pushy.”

  In town they had coffee and a sandwich. Neither of them wanted anything more. What they really wanted they got—to sit opposite each other in spite of a difficult situation that was conspiring to draw them apart. For Clio there was enormous pleasure and comfort in being with Josh. She felt complete. “Would you like to come up and see my office?” she asked, as they left the coffee shop.

  “I would indeed, Ms Templeton. Could never have happened in the old days. But I suppose it can with your father away.”

  “Well, do you or don’t you?” she asked.

  “I did say yes,” he pointed out suavely. “I hear Templetons is a far nicer place to work without the late unlamented Crowleys. New beginnings. At least, that’s what they all say. You’re loved by the staff, Clio.”

  She flashed him a look. “Give me a break, Josh.”

  Josh’s appearance in the Templeton law offices caused a sensation, albeit a quiet one. They were all dying for Josh to go into Clio’s office and shut the door, so excited comments could be exchanged.

  “Wow, like cool! There’s a hunk!” Ellie whispered in Peter’s ear, her green eyes aglow. “I’ve never seen a more superior-looking guy in my life! Those magnetic eyes! Kind of a blond Mr Darcy, don’t you think?”

  She sounded so thoroughly intrigued that hope sprang anew in Peter. “Darcy? He’s not a client, is he?”

  “God, you’re more ignorant than I thought.” Ellie gave him an affectionate cuff. “Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, dumbbell!” Peter took dumbbell in his stride. Ellie’s form of affection. “I did see the television production, actually. Didn’t that guy take a totally gratuitous dip in the pond?”

  “Didn’t he ever!” Ellie leered.

  So that settled it. Ellie knew how to appreciate a terrific-looking guy when she saw one. That was great news. To date he’d been unsure of Ellie’s exact sexual orientation. Now he knew. Hallelujah!

  Thirty minutes later, Josh rose from his comfortable leather armchair. Even in that short time he had learned a great deal more about Templetons and its workings. It was a very special satisfaction Clio wanted him to know. “You have a lot of files on your desk.” He had been eyeing the bundles for some time. “Are you able to get through this?”

  “We have to take on more staff.” Clio rose reluctantly. Josh, trained in the law, immediately grasped whatever she had to say. Oh, to have him on the team!

  “Surely you could do with them now.” He frowned. Clio had to be overworked. “You won’t have a problem hiring more staff?”

  “Henry Morgenstern has two excellent candidates lined up. They’re happy to relocate. This is a glorious part of the world after all and they’ll be given the opportunity to spread their wings. You might consider shifting your business to us?” She gave him a sparkling look.

  He answered her directly. “The truth is, with the Crowleys and, forgive me, your father out of the way, Clio, I would seriously consider it. You impress me in more ways than one. As it is, your father is senior partner. No getting around that.”

  She sighed, frustrated again. “We’ll see,” she said.

  Josh was moving to the door. She followed him up, loving the shape of his neck, the set of his shoulders, the muscular elegance of his body. “When am I going to see you again?”

  He spun so suddenly she gave a gasp. “Up to you.” His strong hands reached for her, moving down along the slender length of her, her sides, her waist, her hips. “There’s no simple answer for us, Clio, but I have to tell you, I ache for you.” “I want you to ache for me,” she said. “I want you to feel the pain.”

  “Oh, I do.” He held her hips harder, drawing her into him, blue eyes smouldering.

  Excitement, a boundless yearning amounting to a fragile happiness took hold of Clio. Surely together they could work things out? She loved her father but she knew she would never give up Josh for him. For the first time she saw light at the end of the tunnel.

  “One of these days…one of these days…Clio,” Josh muttered, “the gates of heaven might open to me.” He brought up his hands to cup her face, before lowering his head. He was unaware his eyes had closed in the expectation of ecstasy. The tip of his tongue flicked over her lovely mouth, tracing its shape and plush contours, while she stood there trembling in his embrace, her whole body aglow.

  His kisses were maddeningly gentle, tender, though stars were bursting behind her eyes. His kisses deepened. She started to lose track of time and place. Outside the door was the real world. Inside was her universe. With Josh.

  “I want to make love to you,” he muttered, his eyes still tightly closed, his strong hands imperceptibly trembling with the force of his desire. His mouth drank hers like a pool of nectar, before making the slow journey to the base of her pulsing throat. “God, Clio! Stop me. I implore you.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” She gave a convulsive little shudder, drawing his hands down over her throbbing breasts, feeling his long fingers spread out over the contours.

  “Clio, you have to. Kissing you and all the world is lost, but I’m forced to remember there’s an office full of people outside your door.” Even so, he couldn’t resist pushing her silk blouse aside, bending his head to the upper swell of her creamy breasts.

  She looked down at his blond head, her lashes long and dark against her cheeks. Love for him was drawing her beyond herself. “I know you love me, Josh,” she said softly. “I feel with all my being you love me.”

  He lifted his head, looked into her beautiful eyes. “A man can be damned for his desires, Clio.”

  “But I’d risk anything for you, Josh. Why can’t you do the same for me?”

  “Clio, I’d lay down my life for you, but I have to consider you may have ceased to think. You have your whole life in front of you. You talk about risk? I’d sell my soul to the devil for you, but it’s not me who might suffer. Don’t you see, I could alienate you from your entire family?’

  “My life doesn’t turn on my family,” she retorted, suddenly resenting her grandfather’s then her father’s interference in her affairs. “If my father and my family aren’t for you, then they’re against me. I can’t play this waiting game.”

  Josh put her determinedly from him. “Neither can I,” he said.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LYLE TEMPLETON didn’t call ahead. He knew the chances were good that Hart would be in his offices on the ground floor of a building he now owned and had totally renovated. One wouldn’t know the place! At least the man had style. That very morning he had come to the conclusion that if Hart wouldn’t pay him the courtesy of coming to the house so he could thank him properly for saving his life, then he wouldn’t exactly barge in,
but as Lyle Templeton he was certain he wouldn’t be refused entry or turned away with having a word with Hart.

  Clio had told him Hart had made a full recovery. Of course, he was young and as strong as a Mallee bull, and his burns were relatively minor. The body was truly amazing, the way it went about healing itself. He was still feeling shaken, but he was well able to drive and get about. He was off to Auckland at the weekend with Tim and Anne. He was looking forward to it, actually. He hadn’t seen Louise in years but he had read all her splendidly researched biographies and always e-mailed his congratulations. But first he had to speak to Hart. The young man mightn’t welcome him with open arms, but there shouldn’t be any bother. Hart wouldn’t be where he was today without the enormous help Leo had given him. He didn’t want to have to remind him of that.

  Danny Morrison, a top member of Josh’s team, put his head around Josh’s door, a sparkle in his eyes. “Someone to see you, Rocket Man.”

  Josh looked up. “I’ve told you not to call me that, Danny,” he said mildly.

  “I know you tell me all the time but it comes naturally. We all reckon no one has ever taken off like you. Anyway, a Mr Lyle Templeton is out in Reception. He’s sure you would want to see him. Big question mark there?”

  “Not at all, Danny. I’d be absolutely delighted,” Josh responded suavely. “Tell Chelsea to show him through. No tea or coffee.”

  “Gotcha!”

  Josh rose from his chair as receptionist Chelsea showed Templeton in, but he didn’t extend his hand. “What can I do for you, Mr Templeton?” he said in a perfectly courteous voice. “Please sit down.” He indicated the steel-framed leather chairs facing his desk.

  “Thank you.” Lyle took such a time to make his choice Josh thought he might have been considering dusting the chair off with his handkerchief. “You’re on the way to full recovery?”

  “I’m getting there.” Templeton began to properly arrange his expensive clothes. “I’ll come to the point, Hart. I invited you to the house. I wanted to thank you for saving my life, but Clio made it abundantly plain you weren’t coming. Is that so?”