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The Outback Affair
The Outback Affair
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The Outback Affair

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Natasha spied her battered suitcase. It had been on many trips with her, usually around Queensland in her father’s sturdy four-wheel-drive. If they’d had the time to spare they would have driven all the way to Kakadu instead of flying, but it would have added days, or even weeks, to the trip.

And what if her father had fallen ill on the way? It would have been a disaster!

‘It’s that one.’ She dashed forward to snatch it up, but Tom was there before her, lifting the bag with ease. She had to admire his strength. The suitcase held not only heavy boots and all the clothes and toiletries she’d need for two weeks, but a first aid kit, a torch, films and equipment for her camera, her sketching and painting gear, and maps and compasses.

‘Anything else?’ Tom asked.

‘A sleeping bag.’ She’d decided to bring her own. ‘There it is!’

He was there before her again, grabbing the rolled-up sleeping bag and slinging it over his shoulder. ‘That it? Right. My four-wheel-drive’s in the car park. I’ve already stocked up on food and drink. Anything else you want before we head off?’

He was assuming she’d already given in. Had she?

‘I’ll want a tent.’ The answer popped out. If she was going to go anywhere with Tom Scanlon, she intended to have a tent all to herself. A two-man tent for reasonable comfort. Tom could provide his own tent—or sleep under the stars.

‘No problem. I’ve a tent in the car.’

‘I’ll want a tent to myself.’

‘You can have it. I always sleep out—except in the wet season, when I usually bunk down in the back of the four-wheel-drive.’ He swung round, heading for the exit, expecting her to follow.

‘Wait!’ She didn’t move. ‘You said you’d answer some questions first.’

There was one question in particular that she had to know the answer to before she took another step.

‘Sure.’ He paused, turning his head. ‘Fire away.’ His eyes were unreadable under his slouch hat.

‘Did you tell your girlfriend that you intend to go on a camping trip with your ex-fiancée?’ She kept her tone cool, her expression as inscrutable as his. ‘Or is she your wife now?’

It seemed an age before he answered. The answer came with a shrug. ‘That didn’t work out.’ There was no emotion in his voice…no regret, no sadness, no relief—nothing. Just a coolly impassive statement of fact.

If he’d shown some feeling…

Bitterness rose like bile in her stomach. ‘She left you? Or did you leave her? You’re good at that. Leaving the women in your life.’ She could have bitten out her tongue the second the bitter words were out. If he thought she still cared…still reacted to him…still had feelings for him…

I don’t! she told herself, tossing back her head, her eyes turning to glinting ice. ‘Forget it, I’m not interested.’ But under her cool-eyed unconcern, her mind was reeling, her insides churning. So the irresistible femme fatale who’d struck him ‘like a bolt out of the blue’ was no longer in the picture. It hadn’t worked out.

So much for his grand passion.

Her lip twisted. Had he tired of her, the way he’d tired of his fiancée after an engagement of only two weeks? He’d called her the light of his life once! She scowled. Had he suffered cold feet all over again at the thought of settling down? At the thought of marriage?

She flounced past him. She didn’t want to think about it! ‘Well, come on. Since I’ve little choice, let’s go.’

‘No more questions?’ As he caught up with her, in a couple of long strides, his body language appeared more relaxed than it had been a second ago. She’d seen how he’d tensed under her lashing scorn, flinching as she’d taunted him about leaving the women in his life.

‘I haven’t taken up with anyone else, if that’s of any interest,’ he assured her with the glimmer of a smile.

She shot him a look of searing contempt. ‘It isn’t. Your business is yours and mine is mine.’ She kept her tone clipped, her eyes remote. ‘Let’s keep it that way.’ If she was going to go on this camping trip with him, she had to keep it on a strictly business footing or she’d never survive a day with him, let alone two weeks. ‘As you pointed out, this will be purely a business arrangement. Simply that.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

They reached his huge dust-covered four-wheel-drive without any further verbal clashes, sticking to safe subjects such as food, drinks, and other camping needs, all of which Tom had already packed into the vehicle. He appeared to have thought of everything.

‘Have you had lunch?’ he asked as he unlocked the big four-wheel-drive and heaved her suitcase and sleeping bag into a rear seat. With two rows of spare seats behind the two front seats, there was ample storage space.

‘Yes, thank you, I had it on the plane.’

‘Good, then we can head off straightaway. We’ll reach Kakadu Park by late afternoon.’ He waved her in.

As she hauled herself up into the front passenger seat, she noticed an aluminium boat on the roof-rack above. An excited quiver ran through her. Having a boat at her disposal when they reached the Kakadu wetlands would give her far greater flexibility than a tourist boat cruise could ever provide.

But they’d have to be careful! Crocodiles abounded in the Yellow Water Billabong and the Alligator River system.

She smiled at the misnomer. She’d been reading up on Kakadu and knew that the South, West and East Alligator Rivers had been mistakenly named, since there were no alligators in Australia! The original explorer had seen the smaller freshwater crocodiles and mistaken them for the alligators he’d seen in North America. He’d obviously never seen a mighty twenty-foot-long man-eating saltwater crocodile!

‘That’s better,’ Tom commented from the driver’s seat.

Her head swung round. ‘What’s better?’

‘You’re smiling.’ His lip quirked. ‘At least you were,’ he drawled as her smile vanished, her eyes clouding.

‘I’m just keen to get going,’ she said fractiously. ‘I can’t wait to see Kakadu.’ She had to concentrate on that—on her reason for coming on this trip—and put everything else out of her mind!

‘You’re the boss. Like a drink of water before we set off?’ Now that they were out of the comparatively cool terminal, the May sun was scorching, the humidity oppressive. ‘It’s important not to get dehydrated up here. It’ll be even more vital once we hit Kakadu.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’

Tom reached behind him to delve into a battery-operated refrigerator. He pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to her. While she was sipping, he grabbed another bottle for himself and gulped down several huge swallows.

‘Ah, that’s good,’ he muttered, wiping a hand across his lips.

Her eyes widened. He’d once been a soft drink addict who always had a can of Coca-Cola or Pepsi in his hand, seldom plain water. Or if not a soft drink, a cold beer. Water’s boring, he’d said, adding with a cheeky grin, like most things that are good for you.

She glanced away, compressing her lips at the memory. He must have found her boring too. He wouldn’t have walked out on her otherwise…

‘Keep your water bottle handy,’ Tom advised, ‘and take a swig as you need it.’ He tucked his own bottle into the gap between the seats.

As they sped east along the Arnhem Highway, Natasha sat tensely, staring straight ahead—not just to avoid Tom’s eye, but because she was keen not to miss a thing, even though it would be another two-and-a-half hours before they reached Kakadu.

With light traffic and no speed limit in the Northern Territory, the big four-wheel-drive barrelled along the excellent bitumen highway. After a while she settled back in her seat, but she didn’t relax. She couldn’t. She was still trembling with anger and shock at the impossible situation she’d found herself in. If Tom had been safely married, or had still been with his girlfriend—still devoted to his girlfriend—she would have known how to treat him. She might even have been able to relax a little, knowing the past was well and truly buried and that she was safe from him.

But he was still free. Still unmarried.

Still the roving-eyed Romeo?

She steeled her heart. If he even thought of making another play for her after what he’d done to her already—if he dared try anything at all—she would push him into the nearest river and leave him to the crocodiles!

As they crossed the Marrakai Plains and the Adelaide River, Tom gave a running commentary, pointing out anything of special interest. Determined not to show any reaction to him, she buried her antagonism—for now—and asked the occasional question, even offering a few coolly interested comments. But as the kilometres rolled by, she couldn’t prevent a sigh slipping from her lips.

‘The bushland along here is pretty monotonous, I’m afraid,’ Tom murmured, noting her sigh and mistaking it for boredom. ‘Everyone finds the long drive to Kakadu a bit tedious. After being in the air all morning and driving all afternoon, I guess you’ll be wanting to crash into bed early tonight.’

Bed! Heat flamed along her cheekbones. She wasn’t ready to spend a night alone in the wilds with Tom Scanlon! She wasn’t ready to camp out in the solitary bush with her ex-fiancé, sharing meals and an intimate camp fire, with no one else within miles, perhaps. She gave a faint shudder. But what choice did she have? She’d committed herself now.

‘How does the idea of a real bed sound?’

Her head whipped round, her eyes wary. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘We have to go to the park headquarters at Jabaru to pick up our permits. How about I book us into the Crocodile Hotel just for tonight? My shout. We can have a good dinner there too. I think you deserve one civilised night before we trundle off into the wilds for two weeks.’

She inhaled a deep breath. It was tempting…if only to put off the inevitable. A comfortable night’s sleep in the privacy of her own room would help to steel herself for the long nights she’d be camping out under the stars with her ex-fiancé—and the long days she’d have him breathing down her neck.

‘Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t let you pay for me,’ she hedged. ‘A night at the Crocodile Hotel, with dinner, would cost you a fortune.’ Tom had never splashed his money around. He’d saved it. At least he had…once. ‘If I did agree to stay there, I’d pay for myself.’ Luckily she’d brought a credit card with her.

‘Let’s find out if they’ve a room available first. Sorry—two rooms,’ Tom corrected as her horrified gaze flew to his. He was swinging the big vehicle off the road as he spoke. ‘I’ll let you stretch your legs and take a close-up look at those giant ant-hills over there while I put a call through. And you’d better have some water—you’re not drinking enough.’ He’d been taking regular swigs from his own bottle, she’d noticed, as they’d been driving along.

She felt his eyes on her as he killed the engine. Glancing round at him as she took a few gulps from her water bottle, she saw a crooked smile on his lips.

‘Very nice,’ Tom murmured, an approving gleam in his deep blue eyes.

Her breath hissed in sharply, her eyes snapping in disbelief. He was staring—staring openly—at the swell of her breasts!

‘Nice?’ she echoed icily. If he was going to start making sleazy comments, she was off! She would hire another four-wheel-drive and another guide—from somewhere. Jabaru, maybe. Any stranger would be preferable to this—this—

‘Your T-shirt,’ Tom said glibly. ‘Very pretty. You like waterlilies?’

Her breath puffed out, her cheeks flaming as her anger deflated. He was admiring her Monet T-shirt!

‘Yes, I…they…they’re beautiful,’ she stammered, feeling a complete fool.

‘That they are.’ His gaze was still on her T-shirt—quite unnecessarily now, she thought, her flush deepening. ‘Well, you’ll see plenty of water lilies on the flood plains,’ he drawled. ‘At Yellow Waters and other billabongs.’

‘Yes…’ she swallowed. ‘I know. I intend to paint them.’

‘I guessed you would.’ He looked amused, damn him. He knew what she’d thought! ‘We’ll take our own boat out, rather than joining one of the tourist boats, and you’ll be able to take all the time you like.’ He pulled out his mobile phone. ‘Well…I’d better make that call.’

It was a relief when his gaze left her burning face.

Grabbing her camera, she stepped out, taking a few hefty gulps of air as she turned away from the vehicle. The heat and humidity were intense but she barely noticed, her artist’s eye captured by the huge rock-hard termite mounds standing like ancient fortresses in the drying grassland beside the road.

‘Wow,’ she whispered. To think that tiny ants had built these giants! They were awesome—worthy of a painting. She took photographs from various angles, then pulled out a small notebook and made a few pencil sketches, with notes.

Tom joined her a few minutes later. ‘We’re booked in,’ he said, and paused, his eyes dancing. ‘So now you can relax.’ The corner of his lip quirked, as if he’d sensed her apprehension and was tickled by it. ‘You’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep.’

‘Great.’ She intended to. ‘Well, are you ready to go? The sooner we’re there, the sooner I can get to—’ she nearly said bed, but prudently avoided the word ‘—to sleep!’

Once back in the car and on their way, she realised she actually did feel more relaxed. Staying overnight at a civilised hotel would be a welcome reprieve.

An extravagant reprieve, she thought with a faint twinge of guilt.

Well…what the heck? What was a little extravagance, once in a while? She’d always wanted to see the famous hotel that was built in the shape of a crocodile.

CHAPTER THREE

THEY made one more stop on their way to Kakadu, to have afternoon tea at a rustic roadside café. Natasha chose an iced cinnamon bun from a selection of pastries and cakes, and a cup of tea. Tom surprised her by ignoring the cakes and buying a rosy red apple for himself.

As she watched him take a bite a question leapt out. ‘You’re eating apples now? You always hated apples. Chocolate bars were more your thing.’

She coloured, mentally kicking herself. Damn! Why had she reminded him of the past—their past together?

Tom shrugged, his lips curving in the kind of grin that had once melted every bone in her body. ‘I never realised how delicious apples were until I tried one.’

She twitched a shoulder and turned away, tightening her lips as she headed for a table, wondering who’d managed to persuade him to try his first apple. The woman he’d ditched her for? She set her cup down with a clatter, spilling tea into her saucer.

Tom didn’t join her at the table. ‘I’ll be out in the garden, stretching my legs. Join me when you’re ready.’

Her eyes followed him as he strode off. Maybe that was how he’d managed to trim down so much—by exercising instead of sitting around all day in a four-wheel-drive, or a helicopter before that. And by eating fruit instead of cakes and chocolates, and drinking water instead of beer and sugary soft drinks. Had his girlfriend teased him about his weight? Nagged him into changing his bad habits?

She heaved a wobbly sigh. She’d never complained about the way Tom had looked herself. She’d loved him just as he was. Perhaps she should have. He looked terrific. A brand-new man. He’d always been a sexy, impressive-looking guy, but now he looked fantastic—a thousand times fitter and sexier than he’d been eighteen months ago.

Interesting lines slashed his cheeks, where before they’d verged on chubby. His jaw, previously masked by a bushman’s beard, was square, strong and sharply defined. With his new streamlined frame, there was a new athletic swing in his step. A dynamic, virile energy—a revitalised energy—pulsated from him in waves.


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