A Wish and a Wedding (5 page)

“You'll be taking over the station school from Tracey Bryant,” Haddo announced.

“You're joking!” she cried, appalled. “You're having me on, aren't you?”

“On the contrary. I'm dead serious.”

‘So what's wrong with Tracey?” she burst out jerkily. “I thought she loved it?”

“Tracey is pregnant.”

“Ah,
lovely!
” She softened at the news. “Better luck this time.”

“And not at this stage terribly well.”

“Ooh!”

“Will you stop oohing and aahing?” he said crisply. “She's okay. She's going to stay with her sister in Warwick for a while. I had been considering hiring a replacement until Tracey is ready to come back to the job—she will be given adequate maternity leave—but out of the blue you've been delivered to me on a silver platter.”

“If you're trying to make me angry, you're succeeding.”

“I'm not trying to make you angry at all.”

“You only have to look at me to make me angry,” she fumed.

“I realise that.” There was a slight hardness in his tone. “Anyway, to get back to your job. I won't say you're
perfect
for it—you might be tempted to play hookey with the kids—but I think you can manage. What do you say?”

“Hire that replacement.”

“Okay, I can do that. If you don't like the idea of being schoolmarm to a bunch of kids, there's always the station store. The hours aren't as good. Nine to five as opposed to nine to three.”

She looked towards him, a sigh rippling up from her throat. “Haddo, you know perfectly well I have no training whatsoever for teaching kids,” she said tightly.

“You completed two years of your arts degree,” he pointed out. “You were a straight A student. I think you could manage it if you brushed up a bit.”

She groaned. “What about the little kids? The really
little
kids? That's childminding.”

“Take it or leave it,” he clipped out. “But believe me, you'll be on Mallarinka to do a job of work.”

Her emerald eyes flashed. “The fact you can dictate to me like that makes me want to hit you.”

He laughed heartlessly.

 

Ten fraught minutes later they were driving through the massive wrought-iron gates of the Rushford mansion. Inside the six-car garage, the Rolls slid into its parking bay alongside the Mercedes Lucinda used on the occasions when she drove herself, and a silver SUV that “came in handy”—Lucinda's words. Brody and Dawn's private vehicles, little runarounds, were parked to the left.

Immediately the Rolls stopped, Tori threw open the door and jumped out, exhaling a long pent-up breath. Relief? No, not relief. What, then? High tension? She couldn't possibly relax around Haddo. It was a deeply complex thing beyond understanding. She had to pass him to get to the steps that led up to the house. That alone gave her the jitters. How could
any
man be so sexy? Hastily she slipped out of his jacket and held it out to him, shaking it a little, as though if he didn't take it immediately she would drop it on the concrete. Her heart was beating awfully fast. She felt naked now, without its warmth and protection.

“What? No thanks?” he chided. “Where are your manners, Victoria?” His eyes were so brilliant and mocking they unnerved her.

“I put them away when you're around,” she responded tartly.

“I haven't failed to notice. Why so jittery?”

She was endeavouring to inch by him, but he caught her arm. “For God's sake, Tori, I'm absolutely harmless.”

“Not damned likely!” she shot back. She could feel the electric connection that surged between them. For her it meant intense physical attraction. God knew what it meant to him.

“Look, why don't we get this over?” he suggested.

“Get
what
over?”
Oh, oh, oh!
A gaping abyss opened up. She could feel her heart commence a slow drumroll. “I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Haddo,” she told him sharply. Lies, all lies.

“I'm pretty sure you do,” he replied. “You've been wondering since you were a kid what it would be like if I kissed you.”

Her cheeks flamed. “Surely you've already done it?” she cried, affronted. “You
have
kissed me. Remember?” She lifted her chin.

“Sorry. Actually, I do recall the two of us sharing a pillow for about five seconds,” he said, very dryly. “I had no option but to let you go, Tori.”

“After lashing me with your tongue.” The past was swirling around them like a London fog.

“It was a hellish situation. If I hurt you—”

“Ah, don't give me the
if!
” she cried scornfully. “I'm allergic to ifs.”

He kept his sapphire gaze trained on her. “My suggestion is this. If only to prevent you from having a nervous breakdown every time we're thrown together, why don't we get one
last
kiss out of the way? Think of it as closure, if you like. You may well decide you don't love me any more.”

“I never loved you in the first place,” she said, with furious offended pride. “You're just trying to make a fool of me.”

His eyes dazzled. “And you haven't given
me
a rough ride these past four years?”

“So now you're going to take me hostage? Is that it? You want to get square? You want to make me grovel?”

“How can you possibly look at it like that, Tori?” he asked with cool reason. “It's not an end-of-the-world situation. I just want to get a few things settled.”

How could he do that, when
she
was becoming more and more unsettled? “Well, that's too bad, because I'm not ready to settle anything. I'm going upstairs.” She tried to speak firmly, only the quiver in her voice let her down.

“We'll both go up in a minute,” he promised. “This won't take long.”

Despite his casual manner, she could see the sizzling intensity in his eyes.

“Haddo, no!” She threw up a hand, bracing herself for the inevitable avalanche of sensation.

He could see the panic in her eyes. “Come here to me,” he said gently.

The odd tenderness in his voice played hell with her mixed-up emotions.

Stick to your agenda!
her inner voice warned her.
Don't let him do this to you. Where's your pride?

The only trouble was she was in an awful emotional mess. Her brain was telling her one thing, her body another.

Her body won. It was a big lamentation in life how often that happened. Her defences, so carefully constructed over the past four years, imploded.

Give in. Give in,
her poor weak woman's body cried out in anguish.

Not a peep out of her brain. She could feel the melt-down start up inside her. In one way she hated it. It gave her no peace. The tragic truth was, for all she had previously stated, she
did
love him. Damn him! She had spent sixteen years loving him. It was going to take a heck of a lot more years than four more to flush him right out of her system. No wonder she felt like sobbing. The most humiliating thing was that from his expression he knew all about the fierce battle that was going on inside her. He was right in his element, playing the dominant, irresistible male.

He drew her to him. Nothing hurried, but very sure. He turned her face up to him. “Tell me how many times you've been kissed since then,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes.

Suddenly she felt the balance of power had shifted slightly her way. She gave him a look of sparkling malice. “You really want to know?”

“I do.” His tone turned edgy.

She threw off a bittersweet laugh. “Hundreds and hundreds of—”

Before she could get out
times
he silenced her. His mouth came down squarely over hers, so warm, so compelling, so utterly perfect to her, it ignited a flame of physical desire. Call her weak, call her a complete fake, she still yearned for him. The bitter truth was, she was a closed case.

Everything was lost in a tide of sensation. It swamped her, carrying her under. It was a mercy he was so much taller, because she desperately needed support. Why did this happen with Haddo and no one else? Why did her legs go so weak and trembly? So, for that matter, were her arms. It was a kind of physical disintegration. She couldn't have pushed him away even if she'd wanted to. Hers was a classic case of obsessive love. Only obsessive love never made anyone happy. She should know. People died for love. Killed for love. Some gave up
everything
for love, only to finish up with nothing but untold grief and unending heartache. Sex
and
love could be a fatal combination.

When he finally released her all she could manage was the single word. “God!”

When you loved someone as she loved Haddo it went on for ever, and there was no way to dislodge it.

Tremors were still racking her. Her voice was so husky she might have been coming down with a cold. “Can I go now?” she found herself near pleading.

“I'm not stopping you.”

They were in her grandmother's garage, yet she felt as if they were sealed off from the rest of the world. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't allow him to search her eyes. Her eyes had always betrayed her.

He was standing very still, yet somehow he was giving the powerful impression he was about to swoop on her again and pull her into his arms. She was terrified that this time her arms would go up and lock around his neck, never to let go. Turned
out she had no pride at all. The only way she had been able to carry off her role of indifference was in company. When they were alone together it was a vastly different matter.

“So? Are you going to move?” She made a truly Gallic gesture, lifting her shoulders and holding out her hands.

Haddo obliged without haste, giving her just enough room to push past him. He waited until she'd reached the bottom of the stairs before asking, “How long will it take you to pack?”

She felt liberated by the space between them. “Don't you supply a school uniform?” she asked with sharp sarcasm.

“I thought you'd had enough of uniforms? You certainly won't be needing anything like you've got on now. Or dare I say
nearly
got on?”

She swung back to him, her beautiful auburn hair in disarray, green eyes glittering, a flush enhancing her alabaster skin. “
You
mightn't know it, but this is a
great
dress. I'm a trendsetter.”

“You mean the less you wear, the trendier you get?”

She laughed hoarsely. “Oh, go to the devil! By the way, I'm going to bring a friend with me.” The idea had presented itself to her on the instant. Her attitude defied him to object.

“You're kidding!”

“I couldn't be more serious.”

A warning glitter came into his eyes. “I just hope you're not going to tell me your friend is male?”

“Why? Would you put your foot down?” she cooed, pursing her lips provocatively.

“You bet!”

He would too. No idle threat. “My friend is female,” she snapped. “And she's desperately in need of a change of scene.”

“In trouble with the law, is she?” he asked dryly.

“She's quite respectable. Her name is Chrissy Graham.” If anyone at the shelter needed help it was Chrissy, with her broken front tooth and her less visible broken ribs. She might leap at the chance of an Outback holiday. Then again, she mightn't. “She's a couple of years younger than I am. Maybe eighteen months.”

“Let's see—that makes her barely out of school. So what's the connection?”

“She's a friend, okay?” Tori answered in some agitation, still feeling threatened.

Her whole body was thrumming with an uncontrollable excitement. She wanted to go back into his arms again. She wanted him to pry open her mouth, let the tip of his tongue slide over her teeth. He had only to touch her for her veins to turn into molten glass.

“Am I allowed to I ask where Chrissy lives?” Haddo's tone was laconic.

“She lives in the inner city,” she supplied, purposely vague. “She doesn't have any money. She's young, and she's struggling. She's had a chaotic life.”

She didn't tell him that Chrissy, after the death of her mother, with her father unable to cope, had been put in a home at age eleven. Over the years she had been bounced from one home to the next. Set free at sixteen, in under a week flat she had fallen into the clutches of an abusive boyfriend—hence her periodic retreats to the shelter.

“I want to help her,” she told Haddo defiantly. “Are you going to help
me?
” She was straining not to shout at him, but she couldn't seem to control her voice.

“If you think it's going to make your detention any easier, by all means.” He lifted an arm to switch off the lights. “What is she? A guest?”

“Why are you asking?” She frowned crossly at him.

“I just thought she might require room service. You, my girl, as I said, are going to
work.
”

“I'm not damned well useless, I'll have you know!” She flounced on up the stairs, beautiful long legs very much on display. “You can find a job for Chrissy too,” she threw over her shoulder.

“What can the mysterious Chrissy do? Can she ride?”

She swung about, a considering frown on her face. “I would think so. She was born on a farm.”

“Lovely!” Haddo said with exaggerated satisfaction. “I'll put her straight to muster work. Now, I can't be too long away from the station. I'd like to leave the day after tomorrow. It will be an early start. I'd appreciate it if you and Chrissy could get yourselves organised by then.”

She shrugged. “I'll never get my punishment over otherwise. Just remember,” she warned, “
I'm
the one under house arrest. Not Chrissy.”