In Bed With...Collection. Emma Darcy
slimy bastard beat you down now because you’re worth a million of him. He’s glitter and you’re gold. Believe me…I know.”
His hand dropped to her shoulder and he gave it a light squeeze. “Tomorrow is another day. Okay?”
“Yes,” she managed huskily.
His mouth curved into an ironic little smile. “Who knows? We might even make a go of marriage, you and I.”
He left her with that thought. Miranda had no idea if he was even remotely serious but just the idea of the possibility served to lift a cold, leaden weight off her heart. She touched her cheek where he had touched it, treasuring the lingering sense of warmth. It felt good.
And tomorrow was another day.
MIRANDA had no trouble putting Bobby Hewson behind her the next day. She was literally transported to another world. From the safety of Nathan’s helicopter, she watched in awe at the incredible skill of the pilots in the two bubble helicopters, swooping from side to side as they flushed cattle out from under scrubby trees and drove them from watercourses, the clatter of the blades and the roar of the motors relentlessly pressing them into a mob and moving them towards a stock-camp.
On the ground, fences were cut in front of the gathering herd as it was funnelled from paddock to paddock and the numbers kept swelling. By lunch-time several hundred head of cattle had been mustered and driven halfway to the holding yards, where the weaned calves were to be branded and the stock for sale selected.
Nathan had informed her over breakfast that the station ran about thirty-six thousand head of cattle, and six thousand were trucked away each year. The breeding program he’d instigated more than made up these numbers. In different parts of the station were Brahman and English Shorthorn breeds, but these were Africanders, handsome red beasts who could thrive in the most arid areas.
Their movement and colour looked stunning on the backdrop of the vast, beige Mitchell grass plains. There was a wild element to the mustering that added the thrill of danger, a pitting of man against the challenge of the landscape and the unpredictability of cattle that were used to going where they willed, yet there was also a marvellous orchestration to it—the men and machines on the ground supporting the men and machines in the air, gradually dominating a long practiced strategy against the seemingly indomitable.
This was what Nathan’s life was about, Miranda realised, and the grand sweep of it deeply impressed her; the understanding of how it worked, the skill and experience at controlling what was controllable, the management of time and place, and at the heart of it, an environment that demanded an intimate knowledge of its unique natural harmony.
They had lunch by the river, close to where drums of fuel had been set up for the helicopters. Nathan was clearly at ease with his stockmen, welcomed into their company, Miranda accepted without any fuss. A fire had been lit and a billy of water put on to make tea. They sat under the shade of trees and ate damper and slabs of cold meat, the men chatting over the morning’s progress, Miranda content to simply immerse herself in the sights and sounds around her.
Here on the ground she could hear the thunder of hooves and the bellowing of the cattle. She could taste and smell the dust of the mob, and watch the tight intricate ballet of the mustering helicopters. Somehow it made life very vivid, real and earthy in a bigger sense than Miranda had ever experienced before. It was strangely intoxicating as though something heady had seeped into her bloodstream.
The heat of the day added a shimmering haze to the light and when Nathan stood up, marking the end of their lunch-break, an aura seemed to gleam from him, lending even more stature to the man. He turned his gaze to her and the blue magnets of his eyes drew on her soul as though he was willing her to be bonded with him and in more than a physical sense.
His outback empire was both harsh and beautiful and she had the strong feeling he was asking if she could be part of it, if she could accept it and live with it as he did…and she knew in that instant there was nowhere for them to go unless she could honestly say yes. Impossible to make a marriage on sexual attraction alone, if marriage really was on his mind. It was this land that had first claim on Nathan—always would—and if she couldn’t share it with him, she lost what truly made him what he was.
A subtle challenge rang through his voice as he said, “Time to move on,” and held out a hand to pull her up onto her feet.
He didn’t ask her if she was tired, if she’d prefer to stay at the camp by the river. Taking his hand symbolised her willingness to be where he was, see what he saw, learn the enduring pattern of his life firsthand and judge if she could fit into it. Miranda understood this intuitively, yet the feel of his hand enveloping hers was far more immediate, stimulating a strong awareness of the sexuality zinging through their physical togetherness.
He kept possession of her hand as they walked back to his helicopter and Miranda felt like dancing, her heart was so joyously lightened by the prolonged link. Nathan hadn’t exactly been distant towards her since last night but his manner had remained strictly on a friendly, matter-of-fact level, which she had found inhibiting.
It was almost as though he was denying they had ever shared any intimacy and she hadn’t been sure if this was to reassure her of no sexual pressure intended this weekend, or if he was reserving judgement on there being any possible future in their relationship.
There would be no false promises from Nathan King. Miranda had no doubts on that score. But his hand said he did want her and that hadn’t changed. She couldn’t resist moving her fingers slightly, savouring the touch of rough skin and warm strength, craving the solidity of all this man emitted.
He shot her a questing glance. “You were quiet over lunch.”
“I had nothing to contribute.”
“You could have asked questions.”
“I didn’t want to intrude.”
“I don’t want you to feel like an intruder, Miranda.”
“I don’t. I just wanted to listen, to take everything in.”
“So what did you think?” His eyes were more intensely probing this time.
“I think that any woman who wanted to separate you from all this would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to realise you are this and inseparable from it.”
He gave her a funny little smile, something between wry acknowledgement and self-mocking resignation. “Do you find that off-putting?”
“No. It makes me want to know it all, Nathan,” she answered with absolute sincerity.
Another sharp glance, then a long expulsion of breath. When he spoke, his voice was dry and flat. “Well, when your curiosity turns to boredom, I guess I’ll know. I’ve had plenty of practice at recognising the signs.”
She had no answer to the deeply rooted scepticism seeded by previous women in his life. Only time could lend truth to whatever she felt about him…now or years from now. Yet in her heart, Miranda was certain she would never be bored with Nathan King. There was something so special in the essence of the man, she couldn’t imagine its ever losing its hold on her.
And this outback world had its hold, too. At the end of the day, a thousand head of wild cattle from three huge paddocks had been mustered into stockyards and the helicopters headed for home, their flying insect-like shapes silhouetted against the red flares of the sunset. They flew over what seemed like kilometres of nothing in the gathering darkness, yet Miranda was aware this was deceptive, that life was more spaced out here than anywhere else and it moved to a beat of its own.
Then in the distant landscape there appeared pinpricks of light, a cluster of them, and Miranda’s heart lifted with a sense of homecoming as she realised they were the lights of the station buildings being switched on. It was strange…feeling they were welcoming