The Millionaire (9 page)

“I appreciate the thought, but I’m a flat white woman.”

If she hadn’t been mistaken, his gaze had dipped down to her breasts, safely covered.

“Not from where I’m standing, sweetheart.” And oh, he’d shone that grin at her and she’d quivered.

Ellie had dressed for the heat and the scorching sun she knew they would meet once they got off the plane. She’d always had to be careful of the sun on her burns, so she’d chosen a loose white, long sleeved linen shirt with a tank underneath, knee length shorts and slip-on sneakers. She was holding a small overnight bag in her hand.

“You got everything?” Chris asked, checking her out over the tops of his sunglasses.

“Of course. What about you? Got your camera, I hope.”

“In the car.” Chris gestured that Ellie should walk in front of him to the street.

“That’s your car?” She stopped, took in the sight of the battered four-wheel drive parked right out front of her house.

“Yep.”

“It’s… it’s… not what I expected.” It wasn’t a car exactly, more like a car accident. Underneath the streaks of mud and dust, it might have been white, and there were dings and scratches along the passenger side door that had carved through the paint and the metal. The front window was only clear where the windscreen blades had curved a view on the glass and there was a toy Hawaiian girl hanging from the rear view mirror, still swaying.

She heard the jangle of car keys behind her. She swore she could feel his breath on her neck.

“What were you expecting?” he asked, deep and low.

She looked back over her shoulder; saw herself reflected in his glasses. Where had that flirtatious look come from? That smile on her lips? She decided to just roll with it, send some of that tease right back to him. “I figured a man like you might drive around in an old Mustang. Or maybe a vintage sports car. British racing green. Leather seats. Open top.”

“Funny you should say that,” Chris smirked. “I have one of each parked in the twenty-four car underground garage at the mansion. My manservant Charles is polishing them now.” He opened the passenger side door for her with a bow.

Ellie smiled back at him and got in.

On the way to the airport, they’d chatted a little about the cloud-filled sky above the city, which threatened storms from the east, and the endless Sydney traffic. It was polite and perfunctory and Ellie was glad of it. She was already trying to calm her thudding pulse and the squeamish feeling inside about spending the weekend with him.

When they’d landed in Dubbo, they’d picked up the rental and Ellie refused Chris’s offer to take the wheel. She loved the drive out to her grandparents’ property. The familiar scenery, the brilliance and expanse of the blue sky above and the deep reds of the earth, always lulled Ellie into a state of happy peace, and knowing she would be seeing her beloved grandparents was always enough to make her feel giddy.

Not that this was like any other visit. She was taking a man to the place she’d spent so many wonderful holidays. Not that he was
her
man. God, how ridiculous would that be, but he was a man nonetheless. She hadn’t ever taken a boyfriend to meet her grandparents. She’d never believed any of them were strong enough to withstand the scrutiny of her grandfather’s rather direct approach. As she’d described him to Chris, he called a spade a bloody shovel and didn’t mind who he was talking to when he said it.

“So, your grandparents run sheep?” Chris changed gears in the rental to slow down over some corrugations in the red dirt road.

Ellie nodded and kept her eyes straight ahead on the road. “They used to have a much bigger flock, but prices took a hit a few years back and when Grandpa had his health scare, they wanted to slow down a bit. They’ve only got a few now. He jokes that there are enough sheep to get him out of the house and away from Nanna during the day.”

Chris chuckled. “Tell me about them. Your grandparents.”

Ellie risked a glance at him. When she saw he was looking at her, she flicked her gaze quickly back to the road. “They’re wonderful people. Real salt of the earth types. My Mum grew up out here before she went to boarding school and she wanted me to get to know the place, and them, I guess. I first came here by myself when I was eleven years old and I’ve loved it ever since. I’m an only child, so summer holidays where pretty long and lonely. Mum and Dad often had to work over Christmas and I begged to go back every summer. Grandpa taught me how to drive a ute when I was twelve, once my legs were finally long enough to reach the pedals.”

“They’re long all right.” Chris chuckled as he took a good look. “What will be think about posing for a photo?”

Ellie let out a belly laugh. “Oh, he’s going to hate it. But since I asked him, he said yes, of course. He and Nanna are so grateful for the Flying Doctor Service. It’s tough for people who are this isolated to get medical help when they need it. If it wasn’t for them…”

Ellie closed her eyes for a moment. She couldn’t think about that.

“Of course he said yes to you, Ellie. You are incredibly persuasive. I should know.”

Ellie looked out the side window to the big blue sky. This wasn’t flirting.
Don’t let yourself think it’s flirting.

Because you are you and he’s Chris Malone.
Any day now, he’ll jump on a plane and head off back to god knows where to do his job. The job he’s famous for. This is just passing the time, his version of some distracting fun while he’s back in the country.
Nothing more.

Ellie felt a flutter of relief in her stomach when she saw the familiar twin gums that marked the turn off to her grandparents’ place. Ahead of them, on the left of the roadway, was a hand painted signpost that read
The Plains
.

“We’re here,” Ellie said as she slowed and turned the car on to the dirt road. And the cheeky thought popped into her head before she could censor it. “I promise to keep your true identity secret. I pinkie swear not to breathe a word to Nanna about your engagement to Princess What’s-Her-Name.”

“Rumoured engagement,” Chris reminded her.

“One which I’ve noticed you’ve never confirmed nor denied.”

He lifted his sunglasses and grinned at her. “No, I haven’t, have I?”

As the farmhouse came into view in the dusty distance, something like relief flowed over Ellie. If she’d had to spend another minute in the car with Chris she might spontaneously combust.

‡

W
hen they pulled
up by the scrubby patch of lawn in front of the old farmhouse, Ellie had barely turned the key before she’d flung open the car door and taken off in a cloud of dust. All Chris could see as he peered through the car’s front window were those long, long legs of hers, her feet kicking up behind her and her arms pumping as she ran across the grass to the front veranda. It was a typical Australian country farmhouse, single level and in a square shape, with a high roof and overhanging verandas all around it to keep the summer sun – and winter rain – off the windows.

As some of the dust settled, he could make out two people sitting on a bench by the front door. There was something familiar about it and then he realised it was the scene Ellie had captured and framed for her mantelpiece. He got out of the car but hung back, watched as her grandmother stood slowly and held her arms open in a wide embrace and a second later, Ellie was enveloped by both her grandparents. Even from where he was, the happy sounds of laughter and easy conversation flowed over him and moved him. There was genuine affection and happiness between these three people.

He wondered if Ellie knew how rare that was in families.

There’d been no such reunion when he’d made his own discreet entry back into Australia a month earlier. He’d flown in two weeks before Christmas and had gone underground from his father and his brother. He was happiest when he stayed away from them and all their bullshit. He hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of sitting around the enormous dining table at The Meadows for Christmas dinner, as bitter and twisted as each other. His other brother, Cooper, made a habit of staying away, too. For him, the lure of the waves had always been stronger than the lure of his family.

Chris grabbed his camera bag, and the overnight bags they’d brought with them, and walked over to the house. When he took a step up onto the veranda, Ellie turned, her face beaming and her voice a little breathless. Her brown eyes were brighter than he remembered and that smile… man, that smile could power a small Pacific nation. Something shifted in him. Something opened up. A place that had been snapped shut for so long revealed itself. It was such a shock to him that he felt his chest tighten and he cleared his throat to let a breath in.

Who the hell was Ellie Flannery and what was she doing to him?

“This is the photographer I told you about. Chris Malone, this is Grandpa and Nanna. Trev and Vilma Kennedy.”

Chris put the bags down and held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“G’day there, son.”

Chris kissed Ellie’s grandmother on the cheek. “Now I see where Ellie gets her good looks.”

The older woman laughed and he glanced at Ellie, who’d suddenly found her sneakers very interesting.

“Lookie what we have here. A big old flirt, as well as being handsome as the devil.” Vilma slapped him playfully on the arm. “Come inside and have a cup of tea.”

Ellie clapped her hands together. “
Please
tell me you’ve made jelly cakes, Nanna.”

The older woman tsked tsked. “Of course I have. I know they’re your favourite, Ellie love.”

“They definitely are. And we need cake to celebrate because I’ve brought your Christmas presents with me.” Ellie turned back and reached for her bag but Chris stepped forward.

“It’s all right,” he said quickly, nodding to Ellie. “I’ve got it.”

“Thanks.” Ellie’s wide-eyes and gentle smile slammed him in the chest.

Ellie looped an arm through her grandmother’s and they went inside. Trev turned to Chris. The old man adjusted his dusty bush hat, crossed his arms over his chest, and glanced down at the camera bag by Chris’s feet.

“So you’re here to take my photo.”

“Sure am.” Why did Chris have the bizarre urge to call him “sir”?

“You’re not gonna put makeup on me, are ya?”

Chris laughed. “No. No makeup.”

“Good. This is all a lot of bloody nonsense.” Trev patted the dust of his faded old jeans. “But who can say no to that girl, huh?”

“Not me,” Chris replied with a rueful shake of his head.

Trev paused. “She’s a good lass that Ellie.”

Chris nodded. He could her hear laughter coming from inside the house. “She is. She’s pretty passionate about the Flying Doctors, that’s for sure.”

“There’s a whole lot of life in her. She’s a bloody treasure.” Trev tipped his hat up. “I wouldn’t like to see her unhappy. She’s been through a lot. Too much. You get my meaning?”

What did the old man mean, that she’d been through a lot? There was a warning in his tone that Chris got loud and clear and it went something like,
if anyone hurts my beloved granddaughter, I’ll go after him with the sheep shears
.

“I hear you.”

The truth was that Chris didn’t want to see Ellie unhappy, either. That laughter he could hear coming from inside of the house? He was suddenly hit with the realisation that if any man did anything to quell that laughter, that lust for life she had, that funny and beautiful and dogged and snippy, he’d want to hurt them, too. Pretty damn bad.

Trev cleared his throat. “C’mon then. We’d better get inside and eat some of Vilma’s jelly cakes. She’ll get a sad on if you don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Trev. I make it a practice of never saying no to cake.”

Chris followed the old man inside. If outside was dust and heat and blinding sun, inside was an oasis. The front door opened directly into the kitchen and it was cool and spotless and something smelt delectable, like strawberries and cream. There were cupboards all around the walls of the large room and a big wooden table sat in the centre with a dozen mismatched chairs around it. One end was covered with a white lace tablecloth, and on that, were cups and saucers and a plate of jelly cakes, little round sponges dipped in jelly and filled with cream.

Chris pulled up a chair next to Ellie. She was pouring tea from the teapot into four fine china cups.

“Tea?” She raised her eyebrows in a question.

“Thanks.”

“Jelly cake?”

He smiled. He wanted to shake his head at how normal this all seemed. How this was a million miles from the life he’d been leading. “Hell, yeah.”

The room fell into silence while the tea was drunk and the cakes devoured. Chris couldn’t believe the quiet of it, the peace. No one spoke because no one felt the need to fill in the silence. The clink of a teaspoon against a plate. The sound of Trev chewing appreciatively. The seconds ticking by on a big clock over the back door. Chris took a deep breath and let the feeling seep through him. This moment was the complete antithesis of the past decade of his life and he wanted to soak it up, store it away for when he returned to the world’s disaster zones. This moment, sitting next to the beautiful Ellie Flannery, eating freshly made cakes in the quiet of a farmhouse, in the middle of nowhere, in outback Australia, would keep him going when he needed to hang on to some sense of normality in the chaos of his reality.