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Claiming a need to visit the ladies’ room, Shara had squeezed out through a tiny window into the open air. By the time Jamal became impatient waiting for her, she’d persuaded a taxi driver to take her to a bank where she’d used her credit card to obtain some Australian currency, then paid the driver to take her to Diamond Downs.
Had it only been two days ago? It felt like an eternity. The seat gave as Tom got into the Jeep. She opened her eyes. He was a lot like his foster father, she thought. Not in looks, since they weren’t related by blood. But in his cool decisiveness. Not domineering, but no pushover, either. Qualities she admired in a man. In Tom.
His foster father had reacted as if having a runaway princess land on his doorstep was an everyday event. A room at the homestead was hers for as long as she wanted. Too risky for them if Jamal traced her to the Logans, she’d argued. In the end she’d agreed to stay at the original cottage some distance from the homestead, and accept Des’s offer of the use of an old work car.
In it she’d been checking out escape routes from the cottage, when she and the kangaroo had their fateful disagreement.
She rubbed her aching calf. “Where are we going?”
Tom gunned the engine. “I’d prefer to take you to a doctor, but since you’ve vetoed that idea, and you evidently don’t want to have me arrested, I’m taking you home where there’s a better medical kit on hand. We can send someone to fetch the car later.”
This time the fluttering in her chest was easier to subdue. “What you’ve done feels fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Looking after stray princesses is part of my job.”
She was getting used to hearing her title used as a nickname, feeling as if it eroded some barrier between them. Australians gave nicknames to people they liked, she recalled her grandmother telling her. And she found the idea of Tom liking her oddly appealing. “Do you come across many of us out here?” she asked.
“Not normally at spear point.”
The concerned tone of his voice pulled at her. He really hadn’t wanted her to get hurt, and tried to save her from greater harm. “I was a fool to go into the gorge without knowing the correct protocol,” she said.
“You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
“I should have. I’ve studied rock art for long enough to understand that traditional people have their own ways of doing things and their own reasons. The taboo on women entering the area has probably existed for hundreds of thousands of years.”
The look he gave her was thoughtful. “Are you always this forgiving?”
She guessed he was referring to her reluctance to press charges against him. “Only when I know I’m in the wrong.”
“Are you really female under those classy clothes?”
She felt the blush all the way to her toes. “Excuse me?”
He looked equally disconcerted, she saw, when she forced herself to meet his heated gaze, as if he’d blundered into territory where he had no business going.
“I mean, I can see that you’re female.” He pushed his bush hat far back on his head, tousling his dark hair. “A man would have to be blind not to. You’re bloody beautiful. I only meant…hell…how many women do you know who’re willing to admit when they’re wrong?”
The awkward compliment warmed her. So he thought she was beautiful, did he? The clumsy words meant more to her than all of Jamal’s eloquent flattery, and were probably far more sincere. “You obviously haven’t heard the women’s rules,” she murmured, letting him off the hook. “Rule one, the woman is always right. Rule two, if the woman is wrong, refer to rule one.”
He gave a theatrical groan. “Don’t let Judy hear you say that. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Judy’s my friend. Perhaps I owe it to her.” Shara was amazed to feel jealousy scraping along her nerves. Was there any romantic interest between him and Des’s daughter? Again she asked herself why she cared.
“She’s okay,” he admitted grudgingly. “When we were kids, she considered it her mission in life to give me as hard a time as possible. Do you have sisters?”
She shook her head. The lack was a source of sorrow to her. “I have one older brother, Sadiq. Our mother died when I was born. We were raised by our grandmother who was born in Australia.” She didn’t add that Noni had crossed swords with their father about almost everything to do with their upbringing. Where his son and heir was concerned, King Awad had won every battle. Not for the first time, Shara wondered if he had done his daughter a favor, letting Noni have her way when it came to raising Shara herself. Would she have found it easier to accept her father’s plans for her if her upbringing had been more conventional?
“Tough break. My mother’s gone, too. I still miss her,” Tom said, interrupting her thoughts.
“Were you very young when she died?”
“Twelve. It should never have happened.” His voice held a rasping quality she had already begun to recognize as emotion, quickly suppressed in the manner of Australian men. She also sensed there was something he wasn’t telling her. It sounded as if his mother had died in an accident. Did he blame himself? This was certainly something she could understand.
“I never knew my mother, but I felt responsible for her death,” she said.
“You didn’t ask to be born. If anyone deserves blame it’s fate, or your father.”
Again she had the uncanny feeling Tom was speaking of his own experience. She didn’t know him well enough to ask, but it didn’t stop her wanting to. “What about brothers?”
“I have three foster brothers. Blake runs the local crocodile farm. Ryan is a jackeroo on a property farther north. We don’t see much of him or Cade, who’s a wildlife photographer for magazines. Judy is the only girl. After she was born, Des and his late wife, Fran, found out they couldn’t have any more children so they became foster parents.”
Shara nodded. “And your real family?”
“They are my real family.”
Taking a hint from his gruff tone, she turned to the scenery jolting past the car window as he steered the heavy vehicle over the corrugated track. Since she wasn’t prepared to open up to him about herself, respecting his privacy was the least she could do.
“Am I keeping you from your work?” she asked.
“I started a couple of weeks’ vacation today. Most days I start work at dawn, before the heat builds up, take a break and catch up on paperwork about now, then finish anything that needs doing when the day cools down.”
“What were you doing out here?”
“Heading to the homestead for dinner with Des and Judy.”
At least she wasn’t dragging him out of his way.
“How long have you been here?” Tom asked.
“Two days. Des said I can stay as long as I like.”
Tom nodded. “He would.”
His gruff tone didn’t disguise his obvious affection for his foster father. “Judy told me he makes a habit of taking in strays,” Shara said.
“Like me and my foster brothers,” he agreed.
Like her, too, she thought with a pang. “Are they all as big as you?” she asked.
Tom slanted a grin at her. “We’re all taller than Des.”
“And you’re all from different families?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t seem to want to elaborate, then surprised her by adding, “My real mother was Irish and my dad’s one-eighth Aboriginal, if you hadn’t already guessed.”
His smooth skin had a tanned look she found disturbingly attractive. “Is it a problem?”
“Not around here. Maybe in the big smoke, the city,” he elaborated for her benefit. “Out here, you’re judged by your actions.”
What did his actions tell her about him? First condoning a barbaric punishment, then being prepared to endure it in her place? More hero than villain, she decided.
Carrying her, his arms had felt strong and supportive. Tending to her leg, his touch had been almost unbearably gentle. And she hadn’t missed the gleam of male response to the shapely calf her torn jeans had revealed. He had made her feel feminine and, yes, beautiful, restoring some of the pride in herself Jamal had threatened to crush.
She found herself warming to Tom, wanting to tell him the truth about herself, but still felt unsure. She knew nothing about him beyond what her instincts told her. Could she trust them?
“You’ve had a pretty poor welcome to the Kimberley,” he said.
He was making amends without knowing it. She put a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles tighten and her pulse skip in response. The temptation to trust became a certainty. “It’s over now.”
Tom wished he could dismiss his part in her injury so readily. Seeing the danger she’d been in, he’d tried his best to protect her, but doubt wracked him. Could he have talked Wandarra into letting her off? Or would Andy’s people have come looking for her later and inflicted worse harm?
According to the outback credo, what was done was done and you moved on. Tom knew he should also be moving on. But something about Shara made him wish the drive to the homestead was twice as long. Her touch on his arm felt like a fresh brand. Amazing that there wasn’t a mark on his skin.
Her skin was the color of milk coffee, satiny and soft in contrast to his own. Scratches marred her skin where she had tracked the kangaroo through the bushes into the gorge, more concerned for the animal’s safety than her own. He felt an un-characteristic urge to kiss them better.
Not sure what impulse drove him, he asked, “What are you afraid of, Shara?”
“What makes you think I’m afraid?”
“Before you thought better of it, you started to say you came here to be safe. Are you running away from something?”
“Not something, someone,” she confessed, sounding relieved by the admission.
“A man?” She nodded. Feeling a surge of jealousy, he asked, “A lover?”
She shrank closer to the car door. “Never. I’d die before I’d let Jamal touch me.”
Not liking the way she shied away from him, Tom said quietly, “You’d better tell me what this is all about.”
“Why? I’m nothing to you.”
He’d been asking himself the same question without coming up with an answer he wanted to hear. “I’m the nearest thing to the law out here for the moment. Maybe I can help.”
She shook her head, black hair tumbling like silk around her face. “You can’t. Jamal is too powerful. He has friends everywhere.”
“Not among my family.”
He had the satisfaction of seeing her uncoil a little, although the screen of hair still hid her expression. The sight whirled him back eight years. As if a door had opened in his mind, he remembered who and what she was. When he’d last seen her, her face had also been screened, but by a scarf crossing under her chin, the fringed ends tossed over her shoulders. The glimpse of beauty he’d gained had fired his imagination for weeks afterward.
Amid the heat and dust, she’d stood out like the rare desert flowers that sprang up only after rain. He’d felt sorry for her, forced to attend her father when she must have been bored witless. Judy had noticed and struck up a conversation, he remembered. If he was right about her, she and Judy had kept in touch ever since.
Only one way to find out. “I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” he asked.
She nodded resignedly. “Eight years ago. A lifetime.”
“Princess,” he said slowly, his changed intonation bringing her head up, her eyes glittering with fear. “No wonder you looked so startled when I called you that. You are a princess. Shara—” he searched his memory “—Najran. Your father, King Awad, buys bloodstock for his breeding program from our neighbors, the Horvaths.”
She buried her face in her hands as memory flooded back. Her father had asked about some new breeding techniques being used in the Kimberley, and Clive Horvath had arranged for them to visit Diamond Downs.
While their entourage was being shown around the cattle yards, a handsome young man had ridden in, commanding Shara’s attention. The dust and heat had been choking but Tom had looked comfortable, happy, even, in the stifling atmosphere. She’d seen his gaze linger on her as he was being presented to her father. Tom wouldn’t have seen much of her face beneath her silk scarf, but she had certainly noticed him.
Des had invited Tom to join them, but he’d murmured his regrets and ridden away. She remembered admiring the easy way he’d melted into the landscape, wishing she could have gone with him, although her father would have been scandalized beyond words. As it was, he’d only allowed her to accompany him to Australia after she’d argued that she would need a broader experience of the world to share with her children one day.
Although the discussions about cattle had been tedious, her imagination had been captured by the beautiful, limitless vistas of the Kimberley. Finding a kindred spirit in Judy had been a high point. Almost making up for the slight she’d felt over Tom’s refusal to stay, Shara thought.
Almost.
From Judy, she’d learned that Diamond Downs covered over a thousand square miles. Now Shara wished it were larger, putting more distance between herself and Jamal.
“Tell me about Jamal,” Tom prompted, as if reading her thoughts.
“I’m promised to him in marriage, but he’s the most corrupt man in my father’s ministry. After he caught me trying to gain proof of his treachery, he forced me to accompany him to Australia. Under our law a wife can’t speak against her husband, so he intends to marry me before we return to Q’aresh.”
“Nice touch,” Tom murmured. “Can’t your father protect you?”
“He has no idea what Jamal is really like. Years ago he saved the life of my brother, the crown prince, putting my father in his debt.”
Tom nodded. “And you’re the payment. I see.”
She wound her fingers together. “I don’t think you do. As soon as Jamal gains access to my titles and dowry, he means to take the throne from my father.”
Tom released a whistling breath. “Have you told the king what you suspect?”
“I tried, but at that point I had no evidence beyond what I’d overheard. He thought I was making it up to get out of the marriage.” She gave a derisive snort. “In my country, a woman’s word—even that of a princess—counts for little against a man’s.”
“What happens if you don’t marry this man?”
She couldn’t suppress a shudder. “My father will keep me locked in the palace until I change my mind.”
“Talk about a rock and a hard place. What are you going to do?”
“Before I was caught, I recorded Jamal talking about his plans. The tape is hidden aboard the private plane that brought us here. I have to stay out of his clutches long enough to get the tape back and send it to my father.”
“Today’s adventure isn’t going to help.”
She straightened her leg, wincing at the pain of reminder. “Probably not, but I’m not going to let it stop me.”
“Do Judy and Des know what you’re embroiled in?”
She inclined her head. “They wanted me to stay with them, but I won’t expose them to more danger than I must.”
“So you exiled yourself to a rustic cottage, intending to take on Jamal all by yourself.”
“If I have to.”
“With respect, Princess, you’re crazy. If this man is as dangerous as you say, he’ll do whatever it takes to stop you getting that evidence to your father.”
Breathing deeply to bring her temper under control, she lifted her chin. “Do you have a better idea?”
