Australian Outback Kings / The Cattle King's Mistress / The Playboy King's Wife / The Pleasure King's Bride (25 page)

He lifted her hand, hooked his arm around hers, then covered her hand again with a reassuring squeeze. “Is that better?”

“Much,” she acknowledged in blessed relief.

He swept her up to the homestead verandah, energy pumping from him in such strong waves, it somehow infiltrated Sam's tremulous legs and kept her in pace with him. Her head felt dizzy. She was glad to reach the roofed verandah and get out of the direct heat of the sun.

By the time they walked around to the western side, Nathan and Miranda were already placing themselves in a trial pose for the photographer to find his best angles.

“If you centre them between the verandah posts and feature the frieze above them, it could make a stunning frame,” Tommy casually advised.

Sam was amazed he could lift himself so quickly into a natural manner, showing no trace of the contretemps that had almost left her legless. But then he hadn't been at fault. It was she who had come close to shattering the precious peace between them.

Except it wasn't peace.

It was chaos for her.

She felt as though she was skipping from ecstatic elation to despairing torment. Her stomach was a churning mess, her mind a buzz of helpless agitation. It was one thing to fantasise a coming together with Tommy, quite another to experience the reality.

Miranda called her over to make adjustments to the fall of her veil and the drape of her skirt. Tommy stood behind the photographer to get the right view of the pose so he could give her direction on the most artistic arrangement. Working in a harmonious partnership to get the best possible angles and shots soothed some of Sam's inner turmoil. Tommy projected good humour with every bit of helpful advice. An aura of love shone from Miranda and Nathan. Conflict seemed absurd in such a happy atmosphere.

Whenever she stood back to be out of the way of the photographer, it was obvious why Nathan had chosen this place for the more intimate poses with his bride. It wasn't for the frame of the verandah posts and the ornate frieze that ran around the roofline of the grand old homestead. It was for the view behind them—the river which was the lifeblood of King's Eden, and beyond it, the vast Mitchell grass plains of the great cattle station stretching to the horizon.

This was Nathan's land, his home, and the heart of the man belonged to it and all it meant to him—his heritage—two million acres of cattle country passing from father to son for five generations—and this was what Miranda had committed herself to sharing with him, all their lives, here in the Kimberly Outback.

Nathan…the firstborn son of Lachlan.

Tommy…the second.

Elizabeth's words suddenly flashed into her mind.…
Tommy's been competing against Nathan all his life. It's why he broke away from Nathan's authority over the cattle station and built up his air charter business
.

Was this wedding conjuring up painful reminders of what could never be for Tommy because he was the second-born son? Was that what he'd meant when he'd referred to ghosts flitting along both sides of the path they were taking today?

Strange, how all these years she'd never really looked at things from Tommy's point of view. She looked at him now, but could not discern any trace of envy in the benevolent smile he was aiming at his brother and his new sister-in-law.

“You're happy for them, aren't you?” she murmured, wanting to tap into the heart he had never shown her.

“Very,” he answered warmly, then raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Any reason why I shouldn't be?”

The calmly searching probe of his eyes flustered her for a moment. Was she hopelessly wrong again? “I was wondering if you minded all this…the homestead and station…being passed on to Nathan and Miranda for them to make their lives here.”

Not so much as a flicker of reaction. His eyes bored steadily into hers. “As you mind the Connelly station being passed on to your brothers?” he softly answered.

She flushed at the accuracy of that knowledge. “I did at one time,” she admitted. “But it doesn't matter now. I've made my own life.”

“So have I, Samantha. So have I.”

The cold pride on the face he turned away from her made Sam's heart sink. She'd done it again. Struck the wrong chord with him. Better not to try to reach into him. Better to wait until he chose to reveal himself. Which would probably be never if she kept on going like this.

Resolving to keep her mouth firmly shut until he spoke to her, Sam remained doggedly silent while the photography session came to a conclusion.

“I'm going to my room to freshen up before joining the guests again,” Miranda announced. “Want to come, Sam?”

Would Tommy wait for her? “No…1…uh, think I'm okay.”

“I'll come with you,” Nathan said, grinning wickedly at Miranda as he scooped her with him to the door that gave access to one of the hallways of the huge house.

Her husky laugh at his desire to be alone with her brimmed with sexual understanding. Sam stood rooted to the spot, watching them disappear inside, fiercely wishing she could give the same uninhibited response to Tommy, wishing he would just scoop her up and carry her off to his room and…

“Do you envy Miranda?”

She almost jumped at his quiet and all too perceptive question. Heat flared into her cheeks as she tried to banish the wildly carnal thoughts that had sprung into her mind. Agitated that he would be able to read them, she swung her gaze to the photographer who had packed up his gear and was heading down the verandah, back to the main scene of activity.

“I take it your silence means yes. Which leads me to think…you would have liked to marry Nathan yourself.”

Shock jolted her into facing him. “That's not true!”

He regarded her with hard scepticism. “You've always looked up to him. As you pointed out to me, he inherits all this, which would undoubtedly have been a feather in your cap since you lose out to your brothers on your own family station. And you
have
displayed considerable feeling for him, Samantha.”

“He's always been a friend to me,” she expostulated, sickened by the picture Tommy was drawing of her. “But I've never wanted to be his wife. And I've never coveted this place, either. If I envy Miranda, it's because…”

“Because she'll get all his hugs from now on?” His eyes glittered derisively. “Was that your farewell hug to him in the gazebo after the wedding ceremony? Do you feel on the outer now, left without a…”

“Stop it!” She stamped her foot in sheer frustration. “I don't care for Nathan that way.”

“Poor Samantha,” he drawled. “Do you think I didn't see you sizing the three of us up, out by the pergola? What were you thinking? Nathan married. Jared captivated by Christabel. That only leaves me, doesn't it? Me, whom you've never cared for.”

She shook her head, rendered totally speechless by his venomous reading of the situation.

“Well, since you decided to try your womanly wings out on me…” he went on, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her so hard against him, Sam's hands instinctively flew up to defend herself against his strength, slamming onto his chest.

“…and I disappoint you in every other area…” his voice rolled on, his arm keeping her relentlessly pinned to him as he used his other hand to cup her chin, tilting her face up to his.

Anguished by his angry summation of her attitude to him, Sam didn't know where to begin to refute it. And there was no giving her any time in his eyes. They burned into hers with ruthless intent as he delivered that same intention in speech.

“…I'll try not to disappoint you in the one field where you credit me as an expert. The Playboy King. That's how you refer to me, isn't it?”

Her mouth was too dry to reply.

“But there are always two sides to that game. So why don't you slide those hands up around my neck, Samantha? As you did with Nathan earlier on. As you've done with Jared so many, many times. But never with me.”

The seething challenge stirred all the desires Sam had kept hidden. They screamed through her, demanding to have at least this satisfaction. It didn't matter what she said or did, she was never going to win with Tommy, so why not have what she could? He'd invited it, however furiously, and she was not about to deny herself any part of him he offered.

Hands around his neck…

She moved them slowly, her eyes clinging to his with a fierce demand of her own—
don't you dare pull away from me, Tommy King
—as her palms soaked in the strong breadth of his chest, the hard muscle of his shoulders, the tension across his back…and her breasts pressed closer, the stiff, excited peaks of them gradually squashing into the hot wall they met…and she shifted her thighs closer, too, touching, feeling, rubbing as she lifted her arms higher to curl around his neck…every nerve in her body electrically charged with awareness of this man she had wanted for so long, feeding off every bit of contact with him.

His eyes dilated then gathered pinpoints of white-hot light. The vibration of his breathing quickened, the rhythm of it coursing through her sensitised breasts, accelerating her own intake of air. The arm locking her to him shifted, slanting down from her waist, exerting pressure on her lower back, pushing her into a more intimate fit so there was no space at all between them and she could feel the growing hardness of intense arousal—ripples of sweet delight spreading through her from the feeling.

She moved her fingers over his collar, grazing bare skin, gliding up behind his ears, into the thick wealth of springy black curls that matted his scalp. How many times had he ruffled her hair in passing, a tease she'd always hated? But she didn't ruffle his. She luxuriated in the sensual feel of it, softly raking her fingers forward and backward in a slow, loving massage.

His head started bending, eyes coming closer, like black shiny velvet now, and she knew he was about to kiss her and her heart leapt and quivered in almost painful anticipation. It had to be right. It had to be good. It had to be.…

His mouth claimed hers in a wild succulent tasting and a terrible greed seized her. She wanted so much, so much, so much…her hands clutching his head, holding it to hers as she responded with a wilder tasting, kisses that taunted his wanting until he proved it with such explosive passion, Sam was lost to the overwhelming excitement of sensations streaming everywhere.

It wasn't just a kiss. It was an invasion of such riveting intimacy, it affected every part of her, arousing a super-sensitivity to the pressure of his body against hers. His hand had left her chin. He held her to him with both arms, and the hard power of his desire was evoking a compelling need in her, an ache, not a sweetness, a fierce ache to have all his mouth promised and more.

“Shall we go to your room?”

His abrupt withdrawal and the hot tingle of his breath on her ear distracted her dazed mind from registering the gruff words. She dragged in a deep breath, wishing he was still kissing her. His mouth was grazing the side of her cheek.

“It's what you want, isn't it?” he murmured.

Yes
rushed out of her mind until it belately sifted what he'd asked first…
Go to her room?

Which had to mean…finishing what she'd started in answer to his anger. Her body still screamed
yes
. But reason frantically argued…what about afterwards? How would Tommy feel about her then if he thought she was using him as a Nathan or Jared substitute? It would be awful…awful…

His chest expanded as he lifted his head back from hers, his shoulders squaring. “Shocked to find such strong chemistry between us, Samantha?”

Embarrassed by her own urgent ardour, she slid her hands from his hair, resting them lightly on his shoulders before daring to look up at him. The dark mockery in his eyes sparked a fiery defiance.

“You know how attractive you are to women, Tommy. Why should I be any different?”

“
Nice
, was it?” he bit out.

“Hardly
an insipid little politeness,
” she threw straight back at him. “More like a volcanic eruption.”

“Still quaking?”

“I can feel one section that's rock-hard.”

His mouth quirked. “Stimulation tends to do that to a man.”

“Well, it
is
nice to know you're not reacting to me as a kid sister anymore.”

“Oh, you're definitely all woman today. You now have all the proof you need. Any time you want to take it further…”

Pride instantly whipped out, “I don't really care to join a queue.”

“A queue? You?” He threw back his head and laughed.

Sam felt a violent urge to hit him. Wasn't she good enough to line up with the women he'd had in the past? His mouth and body had answered
yes
. If he denied that now she
would
hit him.

The devil was dancing in his eyes when they zeroed in on hers again. “Don't you know you're one of a kind, Samantha Connelly?” He brought up his hand and traced her kiss-sensitised lips with feather-light fingertips as his voice dropped to a low, throaty throb. “Which makes what you just gave me…very special. Uniquely special.”

Her heart contracted, then burst into a gallop that flooded wild hope through her veins. She wasn't just another bit of sexual satisfaction…or whatever he got from the women he'd bedded.

“Now come with me,” he commanded, turning her to scoop her over to the verandah railing, imprisoning her there, his hands gripping the railing on either side as he stayed close behind, speaking over her shoulder with an intensity that reverberated through her brain. “You see the land out there? It's an elemental part of Nathan. His soul is tied to it. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Yes,” she whispered, unable to find any volume for her voice, totally confused by his actions and helpless to sort them into a sense she could understand.