Bargaining for Baby (10 page)

The emotion, he realized, was satisfaction.

With milk disappearing at a rapid rate, Maddy asked, “I didn’t think there were any sheep left here?”

“I got a few,” Snow expounded, “justa keep a hand in.”

“You’re a shearer?” she asked.

“Among other things, yes, ma’am.”

“You’ll have to give me a demonstration.”

Snow shucked back his shoulders. “That would be my pleasure.”

Beau squealed and thrust out an arm, fingers spread toward the lamb.

Snow chuckled. “The Prescott genes coming out.”

Snow’s Australian Services badge had lived on the side of his Akubra for decades. Now the metal glinted in the sun as he straightened his hat and put a question to Maddy.

“How you liking Leadeebrook?”

Jack’s ears pricked. He’d like to hear her answer, too.

But, with a big smile, Maddy dodged the question with a throwaway comment. “Jack thinks he’ll get me on a horse.”

“Does he now?” Snow eyeballed Jack, who cleared his throat. Just because a man wanted to show a lady how to ride didn’t mean anything, even if in this instance it did.

The lamb had finished his feed so Jack hooked a thumb at the house. “Might be time to get Beau out of this heat.”

“Babies’ve got sensitive skin,” Snow reflected, taking the drained bottle from Maddy. “But won’t be too many summers before this one’ll be flying off that tire swing hanging over Rapids Creek.”

Maddy snapped a look at Jack. “There’s a creek nearby?”

Snow confirmed, “Fulla water, too.”

Snow wasn’t being smart. There’d been times, and recently, when the creek bed had been bone-dry.

As they moved toward the stairs and the shade of the veranda, Maddy took the baby and slipped Jack an aside. “I won’t bother asking if the creek’s fenced.”

Jack wasn’t sure how to respond. Of course the creek wasn’t fenced.

“By law, pools have to be,” she told him. “Where children are concerned, I don’t see why creeks should be any different.”

Guess he wouldn’t tell her about the dams then.

He assured her, “My father taught me to swim before I could ride.”

“There are some excellent swimming schools and coaches in Sydney,” she countered in an encouraging tone.

He adjusted his hat and picked up his pace. “Beau doesn’t need to be an Olympian, Maddy. I can teach him everything he needs to know right here.”

“Everything?” She surveyed the endless plain with a lackluster air. “Here?”

He strode up the steps, half a length ahead. He wanted to tell his guest to let him worry about Beau. She was the go-between. He’d decide what needed to be done and he’d do it his way.

No mistakes this time.

M
addy hadn’t known what to expect.

Hay stacks in every corner? Corncob bobbing contests? A country band wearing plaid shirts, plucking at banjos? Instead, that Saturday evening when she and Jack entered the Clancy City Gala Ball, she was more than pleasantly surprised.

Clancy was a Channel country community in Queensland’s deep west. It boasted the usual small town landmarks. Nothing to write home about. But the exceptional establishment in which they now stood shone like an oasis in a desert. She might have been back in Sydney.

Amid the soft strains of tasteful pre-dinner music, uniformed wait staff breezed around classic timber decor surrounded by exquisite gold-plated fittings and waterfalls of fragrant floral arrangements. Best of all, their fellow
guests alleviated any concerns she might have had about being overdressed.

Maddy’s suitcase had presented nothing even remotely suitable to wear. Rather than rely on Hawksborough’s sole boutique—Lindie’s Labels—she had her assistant express courier a gown and accessories she’d purchased from a recent fashion show for an upcoming event. The alizarin-red chiffon sheath made her feel like a goddess.

The pleated shoulders were sheer with the waist gathered high under a cupped bodice, which created an elegant fall of fabric through the middle down to her silver-heeled toes. If her Bulgari crystal earrings added the perfect touch, Jack Prescott was the perfect escort.

As he took her arm to guide her through the mingling black-tie crowd, she enjoyed a thrilling rush of pride. The word hadn’t been invented to describe the hold-onto-your-thumping-heart factor Jack oozed in that tailored dinner suit. Beneath the custom-made jacket, powerful broad shoulders rolled with every smooth measured step. His bearing was confident yet also casually relaxed. Movie producers cried out for masculine looks as dramatically chiseled as his.

Others in the room noticed, too. Women camouflaged their interest behind elevated flutes. Men stepped aside to give this naturally masterful guest right-of-way. Maddy had never felt more envied, more singled out or…
more special
in her life.

And this event was only the beginning of their evening. At the regional airport Jack had organized for their bags to be transported to an apartment he’d let for the night—a night she both anticipated with relish as well as with dread. A prude she was not, however, in her book, sexual intimacy wasn’t something to be taken lightly. There was so much
to consider. Her philosophy had always been that if it was going to happen, there was no need to rush.

Yet every time Jack looked at her she felt his gaze on her skin like a steamy caress. Every time he smiled, she wanted to surrender her lips up for his to take. Since Tuesday night when they’d made their pact to keep a respectable distance, the pressure to succumb had built until her anticipation surrounding tonight had tipped the scales toward flash point.

With his guiding arm through hers, she clasped her hands over her beaded pocketbook. As much as she’d lain awake in her patchwork quilt bed these past nights, staring at the ceiling and imagining what making love with Jack would be like, the imminent reality—the trip wire tight expectation of how this evening would end—now threatened to overwhelm her.

She’d bet her life he was a natural in the bedroom. Maddy was sure that as far as Jack was concerned, making love was an art form, a living masterpiece to be crafted with liberal amounts of sultry skill. She, on the other hand, wasn’t entirely free of certain inhibitions. She wasn’t the type to swing from chandeliers or even leave the lights on.

Would she disappoint him?

Through a break in the chattering crowd, a waiter appeared carrying a silver tray. Jack selected two flutes and offered one over. Maddy sipped the bubbles and sighed at the crisp heavenly taste.

He smiled. “You like champagne.”

“A weakness, I’m afraid.”

“Let’s see…so that’s chocolate custard, rainy mornings and French champagne.”

She laughed. Tonight the deep timbre of his voice alone
was enough to leave her wonderfully weak. “I like books, too, don’t forget.”

His gaze skimmed her mouth. “I haven’t forgotten anything.”

“Jack, good to see you.”

Maddy was snapped from her thrall when a man with a steel gray shock of hair thrust his hand out toward Jack.

Jack shook heartily. “Charlie Pelzer. How are you, mate?” His hot palm settled on Maddy’s back. “You haven’t met my date.”

Maddy’s smile wobbled. She wasn’t sure if she liked being referred to as Jack’s date. Or perhaps she liked it a little too much.

“Madison Tyler,” she said cordially.

“Maddy’s visiting from Sydney,” Jack said. “She’s in advertising.”

Charlie’s bushy brows fell together. “Your father’s not Drew Tyler? He’s a huge sponsor of one of my benefactors.” He named a charity.

Maddy nodded, smiling. “I’ve heard him speak of it.”

Charlie leaned in conspiratorially. “Perhaps you can bend his ear about sponsoring this cause.”

He went into a spiel about The Royal Flying Doctor Service, how it was the largest and best aeromedical organization in the world and that without its dedicated staff and services, much of the outback would be uninhabitable. She hadn’t realized that while the RFDS was government subsidized to a point, donations were needed to help replace aircraft and purchase supplies and equipment.

Knowing that they were here to support such a great cause alleviated some of the guilt she felt at leaving Beau for a few hours.

Charlie Pelzer and Jack discussed the position Japan
currently played in the Australian wool export market while Maddy happily sipped her champagne and enjoyed the lively atmosphere. She didn’t dislike the quiet of the outback, per se. There was something undeniably peaceful about it. But this buzz felt like home.

When Charlie spotted another friend, he bowed off and Jack ushered her over to a long stretch of white clothed tables, upon which rested numerous prizes to be auctioned. Maddy’s heartbeat fluttered as she inspected the nearby bidding sheets.

“I love silent auctions.”

Jack gave an obliging shrug. “Then we’ll have to do some real damage.”

Holidays, boats, paintings, gym equipment. Maddy pulled up at a bizarre display. “Five cartons of beer?” Small glass bottles of the premium Aussie XXXX label.

Jack had signed many sheets. Now he swept a flourishing signature on this sheet, too, along with a ridiculous amount. Had the champagne gone to his head?

But his look said not to worry. “It’s a tradition. A bit of fun.”

The master of ceremonies called for guests to be seated. Maddy soaked up the conversation with their dinner companions, which included a criminal lawyer and a geologist recently returned from areas surrounding Uluru, or Ayers Rock as it was still known to many.

Guests continued bidding until the lot was officially closed and the highest bidder announced. The room erupted with applause when Jack was awarded the five cartons of beer. He also scored a painting by a well-respected indigenous artist. After a dessert of strawberry and passion fruit-topped Pavlova, the lights dimmed more and the music lilted into a familiar dreamy tune.

Jack pushed out his chair and offered his hand. “You like dancing, I presume.”

Arching a bow, she accepted his hand. “I can hold my own.”

But when he gathered her close on the dance floor beneath the slow spinning lights, it was clear who the expert was. Once his strong warm hand was wrapped around hers, he rested them both against his lapel while his other hand lightly pressed on the sensitive small of her back. As he began to lead, Maddy breathed in his delicious woodsy scent and, trying not to sigh, happily followed. She was so relaxed after the champagne and conversation at the table that she instinctively went to rest her cheek against the shoulder of his jacket.

His breath stirring her upswept hair, the magic of his body as he held her close and moved…it all felt strangely surreal. As if every one of her feel-good hormones had been released and her brain had no room for anything other than wondering how she could possibly get closer to Jack’s unique brand of hard heat.

In time she pulled herself back.

Dangerous. They were in a room full of people who were clearly interested in the relationship between widower Jack Prescott and this new woman. To give them more to talk about wouldn’t do, particularly given at least one of them knew her father. She didn’t want it getting back that she was romantically involved or Drew Tyler could assume that romance was her reason for requesting those few extra days away. Still…

Jack’s chest felt so safe and his hand around hers felt so right. If she didn’t want to stir any pots, her own included, it might be time to change the tone. A subject came to mind that had lain between them these past days. Now
seemed the right moment to clear the air—as well as make her point clear.

“I hope you didn’t think I overreacted the other day when I heard about the creek.”

His step faltered almost imperceptibly before he continued to slow dance her around in a tight circle among other couples on the floor.

“I assure you,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Maddy chewed her lip. His wife and child both had died. She didn’t know the specifics because Cait was reluctant to discuss it further. The last thing she wanted was to sound thoughtless, but the bottom line was that Beau’s well-being had to be her main concern.

“I was only trying to point out that drowning can happen in a creek as easily as a suburban pool. Obviously nothing could be done to border off a creek,” she rationalized. “As long as a good eye’s kept on him at all times, I’m sure you’re right. There’ll be nothing to worry about.” She couldn’t help but add, “It’s just that kids are known to wander off.”

Which brought to mind a movie she’d seen long ago where a little boy had been lost in a desert. His lips cracked, blinded from scorpion venom, he’d wandered around, close to death, for days.

Feeling as if ants were crawling over her skin, she shuddered, then quizzed Jack.

“Does Australia have scorpions?” She had the biggest feeling it did. “I know we have snakes.” Some of the deadliest in the world.

“Yes, we have snakes,” he confirmed. “Scorpions, too, but in the bush we’re down on murders and police car chases and high on helping each other out.”

She took in his wry expression and let out that breath.
Yes, she should keep things in perspective. Growing up in the country wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, or more hazardous than being raised in a city. She needed to keep telling herself that Beau would be happy in his new home after she had left and slipped back into her own life. This is what Dahlia had wanted for him…even if she hadn’t wanted it for herself.

“You look beautiful in that gown,” Jack murmured against the shell of her ear, clearly wanting to move on from that subject, too. “Everyone in the room thinks so.”

Her heart swelled so much she didn’t know if her ribs could contain it. Usually she was gracious in accepting compliments, but everything about Jack affected her more deeply. As her cheeks heated, she offered silent thanks for the muted lighting. She felt like a sixteen-year-old at her first dance with the boy every girl wanted to date.

Trying to make light of it, she shrugged.

“The color’s quite striking.”

“That’s what I thought about your eyes when we first met.”

A simmering kernel of want began to pulse in her core and she fell deeper into his mesmerizing eyes. He was so sexy, so handsome. Fatally hypnotic. With every passing minute, Sydney seemed farther and farther away.

With his thumb circling low on her back, he nodded at a point above her head. “Notice all the fairy lights.”

She nodded. They gave the room an incredibly romantic feel, although that was more likely due to her dance partner’s smoldering attention.

“Over there—” he tipped his head “—they’ve made a replica of the Southern Cross.”

Arcing around, she took in the five larger lights which were patterned to reflect the star formation that was
synonymous with Australian skies. She noticed some hazy, larger lights that seemed to hover upon the horizon of the room. “What formation are those meant to be?”

“You’ve heard of Min Min lights?”

She grinned. “Sure.” The strange appearance of those lights in the outback was legendary.

He cocked a brow. “But did you know that Min Min light sightings are more prevalent in this district than any other?”

Her blood pressure spiked. In the fast-track world where she lived, Maddy didn’t admit it often but she believed that not everything could be explained by science.

“Min Min lights were part of Aboriginal folklore long before modern day sightings made them famous,” Jack said. “Experts agree the mysterious lights that show themselves to travelers at night aren’t imagination. They appear in the distance, sometimes hazy, sometimes brilliant enough to light up objects around them. When you think you’re getting closer, they can disappear only to reappear at your back, speeding up behind you, or at the side, seeming to watch.”

Maddy involuntarily swallowed then tried to shake her dark fascination off.

“You’re trying to scare me.”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry about them. I’m here.”

Her blood flowed like hot syrup through her veins. But she straightened her shoulders and cast a casual glance around. Had anyone heard their conversation? Could anyone see her blush?

He tilted her face back toward him. “And I plan to keep you as close as possible all night.”

Her breasts tingled and swelled, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. He was openly seducing her—
here,
amid
hundreds of people. And the longer she drank him in, the more light-headed she became.

Giddy from the dance, from the music and from his charm, she dragged her gaze away.

“I…I don’t know…”

His polished shoes stopped moving. With a firm hold of her hand, he headed for a set of glass doors and didn’t stop until they stood on an otherwise vacant balcony surrounded by a dark velvet dome which held all the stars in the sky.