скачать книгу бесплатно
Thinking of Tom, Shara said, “To please the man in your life.”
“I’d rather dress to please myself. Besides, there’s no one on the horizon at the moment. At least, there was. But he doesn’t seem all that interested.”
“And you’re—what do you call it?—holding a candle for him?”
“A torch,” Judy amended. She shook herself like a puppy shedding water. “He’ll either come back or he won’t. Dad’s my priority at the moment.”
Shara shot her a look of concern. “Your father is ill?”
“He has a serious heart problem. The only cure is a transplant.”
Thinking of the run-down state of the buildings, Shara asked, “Forgive me for asking, but is money the problem?”
“Partly, but throwing yourself on your father’s mercy won’t help, so don’t even think about it. In this country everyone has access to medical care through the public hospital system. And Tom and the boys can come up with whatever Dad needs if he’s treated privately. But they can’t guarantee that Diamond Downs will be here when he recovers.”
Shara stilled in front of the mirror. “How can land not be here?”
“Max Horvath owns the property bordering ours. He wants control of our land and he won’t rest until he gets it.”
“I know the name. Horvath has supplied bloodstock to my father for many years. I understood he is a good man.”
“Clive Horvath was a good man, one of Dad’s oldest friends. But he died five months ago in a riding accident. His son, Max, is a different kettle of fish.”
Ignoring the confusing metaphor, Shara said, “He doesn’t have enough land of his own?”
Judy perched on a corner of the bed and folded her arms. “Oh, he does, but he isn’t interested in raising cattle. Too much like hard work. According to legend, my great grandfather, Jack Logan, found a fortune in diamonds on our property. Max wants the diamonds.”
Hearing the scorn in Judy’s voice, Shara said, “You don’t think the legend is true?”
Judy shook her head. “When I was a kid, I did. But the only evidence we have is the journal entry Jack left about a fabulous new diamond mine he was going back to explore. He disappeared before telling anyone where the mine was. The local Aboriginal elders are said to know the location but they won’t go near it.”
“Why not?”
“They say the place is haunted by Jack who supposedly died at the site of his discovery. All I know is his body was never found, and the aboriginal people working here clam up if the diamonds are mentioned. Now Max wants them, and it’s my fault.”
Judy held out a pearl silk top. “Try this on, it’s more your color than mine.”
Reluctant to spoil Judy’s obvious enjoyment, Shara shimmied out of the white top and into the second one. She stood patiently while Judy gathered the loose folds and knotted them at Shara’s waist, exposing a good inch of midriff. “How can Max’s actions be your fault?” she asked.
“Max wanted to marry me and I turned him down. He thinks I was poisoned against him by his father. Max can’t see that his attitude is what turns me off.”
“Not to mention the torch you’re carrying for this other man,” Shara said.
“Right.” Judy stood up. “You should wear that. It looks better on you than on me. I have too much up front to do it justice.”
Shara thought Judy was being unnecessarily modest about her appearance, as she said, “I wish I could help you and your family. You’re being too kind.”
Ignoring Shara’s protests, Judy scooped the white top into a plastic carrier bag, adding a pair of camel moleskins and a sweater. “Don’t worry about us. The boys won’t let Max stand over Dad. We were going to ask Tom to go over and talk with Max this afternoon.”
Shara shifted uneasily. “Instead, he got held up on my account.”
Judy grinned. “Max isn’t going anywhere. And when Tom sees how you’re dressed, I don’t think he’ll have too many regrets.”
Shara’s hands fisted uneasily in the silky fabric. “Perhaps it’s better if I don’t distract him.”
“Relax, I’m joking. In any case, Tom’s bombproof when it comes to women.”
A sharp sensation gripped Shara. She wasn’t interested in romance. Her life was already complicated enough without it. Yet the thought that Tom might be involved with another woman had a staggering impact on her.
She had spent only a few hours in his company. How could she feel anything toward him, far less this stomach-twisting dislike of an unknown woman?
She masked her reaction with a polite smile. “Is he engaged to be married?”
“Good grief, no. By bombproof, I meant he doesn’t want a lasting relationship.”
The relief that washed through Shara was tempered by curiosity. “Why not?”
“It’s Tom’s story. I’ll let him tell you himself when he’s ready.”
If he was ready, Shara interpreted. She took a last look at herself in the mirror. She looked almost Australian. Only her dusky complexion and kohl-rimmed eyes hinted at eastern mystique. The combination was startling she saw, and unwillingly pictured Tom’s reaction. Not that she wanted to have an effect on him.
Even so, his reaction was hardly the one she’d expected. When she and Judy rejoined the men, Tom’s voice trailed off and his eyes went cold as he stood to acknowledge her. “That isn’t going to help,” he stated.
At least Shara wasn’t alone in feeling puzzled. Des and Judy looked equally baffled. “I think she looks fabulous, don’t you, Dad?” the young woman asked.
“Like a magazine cover girl,” Des agreed.
“You may as well serve her up to Prince Jamal on toast,” Tom snapped.
A chill frosted Shara’s spine. “He can’t have found me already?”
“Not yet, but he’s staying with a neighbor, Max Horvath,” Tom stated. “Looking like that, you’ll be the talk of the area. Word will get back to him so fast your head will spin.”
Shara shivered. Her head was already spinning, partly with the awareness of her own foolishness. She had let herself feel safe at Diamond Downs, when nowhere was safe from a man like Jamal. Trying on Judy’s clothes, she had been so carried away anticipating Tom’s reaction, that she had forgotten who and what she was.
She was a princess on the run, and it was only a matter of time before Jamal found her and forced her to return to Q’aresh as his bride. Her brief taste of freedom would be over before she had brushed the traditional bridal rice and rose petals out of her hair.
And if Jamal used her to usurp her father’s throne, the consequences for her homeland would be disastrous.
Chapter 4
“Remind me again why I let you talk me into helping you on my vacation?” Tom said as he followed Blake into an enclosure containing a twelve-foot female crocodile his foster brother wanted to introduce to a male.
It wasn’t Tom’s first experience of handling big crocs. He had helped Blake to set up Sawtooth Park as a tourist and research venture. Tom still had shares in the park. They’d worked together until Tom decided that he preferred a career as a shire ranger. Not out of fear of the man-eaters, as Blake joshed Tom, but because spending his life hip deep in mud had turned out to have limited appeal.
Blake reveled in the life. At just over six feet, Blake was as tall as Tom, with hazel eyes, longish brassy-gold hair and a cowboy’s rangy build that belied his muscular strength.
Today, Tom welcomed the dirty, dangerous work and he wouldn’t be surprised if Blake had guessed as much before asking for his help. Finding out about the mortgage Max Horvath held over Diamond Downs had given him nothing but a colossal headache.
Shara’s refusal to stay with Des and Judy at the homestead wasn’t helping either.
The woman had as much of a death wish as Blake, Tom decided. Learning that Prince Jamal was so close by should have spooked her, but no, she had to prove she wasn’t afraid of her would-be fiancé, insisting on being driven back to the old cottage. Thinking of her alone there had kept Tom awake for a good part of the last two nights since the dinner with Des.
How long would it be before Jamal found out she was on Diamond Downs land? Staying with Des and Judy, she had some protection. On her own in the middle of nowhere, she had none.
Not that it was any concern of his, Tom assured himself. She might be a sloe-eyed beauty with more fire than most women he knew, but it didn’t mean he wanted to get any more involved with her problems. Driving by the old cottage and keeping an eye on her from a discreet distance yesterday was part of his job as a ranger, nothing personal.
Now all he had to do was convince his raging hormones.
Because worrying about her wasn’t all he’d done while lying awake long into the night. Part of the time was spent imagining her small, firm body pressed against him. In her own clothes, she’d looked every inch a princess, regal and untouchable. In Judy’s clothes, showing off that tantalizing flash of café au lait midriff, she’d made his mouth water.
Fear shot through him, and not because he stood within feet of an unseen crocodile. That kind of fear he could handle. The prospect of a serious relationship alarmed him much more. And in spite of his personal history, he wanted to be close to Shara.
Her pride, boldness and insistence on living her life her way no matter what the cost sent his blood pressure soaring higher than her beauty did, and that was fast enough.
In a matter of hours she’d slipped well and truly under his skin where she had no business being. No woman had. Leaving her alone at the old cottage had taken almost more grit than he possessed. Everything in him had urged him to follow her inside.
Maybe he should hope that Jamal would whisk her back to their magic kingdom, then she’d stop filling Tom’s thoughts.
He felt a sensation like a punch in his midsection, momentarily grabbing his breath. He didn’t like the idea of her returning to Q’aresh as Jamal’s bride. As anybody’s bride. Except maybe—
No, he halted the thought in its tracks. With his background, he wasn’t in the marriage market now or ever. The more attracted he was to Shara, the more reason he had to keep his distance, emotionally and physically.
Nobody said he had to enjoy it.
Blake turned from studying the muddy water. “You’re here because you’d rather wrestle an amorous crocodile than try to convince Max Horvath that the diamonds he’s so anxious to possess exist only in legend.”
Tom shot his foster brother a look that said “smart-ass.” But Blake was right. “Andy Wandarra has always said the mine is real and the elders of his clan knows how to locate it. Only the spirit of our great-grandfather keeps them from revealing the secret. If it’s true, Eddy Gilgai might be able to lead Horvath to the place.”
Blake used a long pole to probe among the reeds at the water’s edge. “Max must have promised him a lot to get him to betray his clan. Shows how strongly Max believes in the legend.”
Tom kept a wary eye on the deceptively still waters. “If he didn’t, he would have sold out right after his father died. This way he gets to stay in the area and keep looking.” He made a sound of annoyance. “He has a law degree. Why can’t he use it to fleece rich clients instead of harassing a sick man?”
Blake ventured ankle deep into the mud. Without turning, he said, “Max likes the idea of being a wealthy landowner. The trouble is, he has too much land and not enough wealth.”
“When did you get your psychology degree?” Tom’s tone was grudging but his foster brother’s assessment of their neighbor sounded valid. Max Horvath had never liked the demanding life of a cattleman. He and his father had fallen out because the younger man hadn’t wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d been more interested in making money, but even law hadn’t made it as fast as Max liked to spend it. “If there really is a mine, why wasn’t it located long before this?”
“You know the taboos as well as I do,” Blake said.
“Yeah, yeah. Great-grandfather’s spirit haunts the place. That might have worked on the tribal people, but not on some of the current generation, like Eddy. Unless there’s nothing to be found.”
“Is that why you stopped looking?”
Blake’s casual question didn’t fool Tom. As boys, he and his foster brothers and Judy had talked about finding the mine and becoming rich beyond their wildest dreams. As Tom grew older, the dream had never completely died, although it had been pushed aside in favor of more grown-up pursuits.
“I stopped because I had more pressing things to do. What about you?” he asked Blake.
Before Blake could respond, the pool exploded into a mass of leathery scales and snapping jaws. Although he’d expected this, Tom’s heart slammed against his ribs and he stepped back instinctively.
Blake was ready. On the end of the pole was a catching rope that he looped expertly over the crocodile’s top jaw, settling it behind the strong back teeth before pulling it tight. His muscles bulged with the effort of keeping the rope taut as he hauled the creature out onto the bank.
Tom dodged the thrashing tail that could snap a man’s legs off, and waited for the right moment before throwing himself on the crocodile’s back, using brute strength to restrain the animal until it had expended its initial burst of energy. His job was to control the massive head while Blake draped a wet sack over its eyes, the darkness meant to have a calming effect.
Under him he felt the powerful saurian try to launch itself into the death roll crocodiles used to drown their prey. He kept his elbows locked and jammed against his sides, his splayed fingers gripping the torpedo-shaped body as he fought the movement. If he was tossed off before Blake got the croc’s massive jaws tied, they were both in trouble.
A croc could snap its jaws shut like a steel trap, but had little muscle strength to force them open, Tom knew. With Blake’s rope wound around its snout, the crocodile couldn’t do much damage.
He stayed put while Blake tied the animal’s back legs, before jumping clear and expelling a huge breath of relief. “I hope lover boy in the next pen is up to handling this lady. She’s got plenty of fight in her.”
“Delilah,” Blake supplied, looking at the crocodile with what Tom thought was almost fatherly pride. “I caught her near Three Rivers Crossing after she developed a taste for cattle. Don’t worry, Hambone can handle her. He’s sixteen feet of pure crocodile testosterone.”
Tom slanted his eyebrows upward. “Hambone? Let me guess, he likes wild pigs.”
“His favorite food.” Blake bent over the trussed crocodile, checking to ensure all was well. “Come on, Delilah. Time for your blind date.”
Tom rolled the crocodile toward himself to let Blake slide a carrying board under the animal, then they hefted it between them to the next pen. By the time they’d followed the catching routine in reverse and Delilah was splashing her way into Hambone’s pond, Tom was soaked in mud and perspiration.
“I need to get more exercise,” he said, rotating his arm at the shoulder and grimacing with pain as he saw the sixteen-foot Hambone surface and make his first courtship moves.
“You need to get more of something,” Blake countered wryly. His head jerked toward the fence between them and the new couple. “Even a crocodile with a brain the size of a pea knows it’s not meant to be a solo act.”
“You think I should set something up with Delilah?”
Blake looked at the male crocodile arching his tail and head out of the water, and setting the water dancing with shivers from his powerful body, a ritual designed to arouse the female’s mating instincts. “She’s already spoken for. I was thinking of someone from your own species.”
Tom rotated the other arm the female croc had almost jerked out of its socket. “You wouldn’t have anyone specific in mind?”
Blake looked studiedly casual. “I don’t know. You seemed taken enough with a certain Middle Eastern princess.”
“She’s a stunning looker. I may not be involved with anyone right now, but I’m not dead.”
“Then the interest Judy detected at Des’s place the other night was purely academic?”
Tom kept his gaze averted but felt himself redden. Of his three foster brothers, Blake knew him the best. Soon after Tom joined the Logan family, Blake had managed to get through to him when nobody else could. Tom didn’t exactly endorse taking your new brother out to the woodshed and fighting him until he agreed to communicate, but it had worked. Tom had learned that he wasn’t the center of the universe. Nor was he such a bad apple that nobody would want to bother with him.
He owed Blake a lot, but some things weren’t meant to be shared. “Purely academic,” he insisted.
Blake nodded. “Like Tonia Winters.”
“Tonia was a mistake. A man’s entitled to one.”
“One? What about Susan and Jemma? You’re starting to look like a rolling stone, brother.”
“And you’re starting to sound like Judy. ‘When are you going to settle down? When are you going to get married?’”
His falsetto imitation of their foster sister didn’t deter Blake. “Tonia and Susan I can understand. They were only marking time until they could get away from the Kimberley to the bright lights. But what was with you and Jemma? She shared your interests and your lifestyle. You could have had a good thing going with her.”
“She was the one who ended it,” Tom stated flatly, his tone suggesting an end to this line of discussion.
