The Cattle King's Bride. Margaret Way

The Cattle King's Bride - Margaret Way


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of desire he had for Amelia could be classed as a type of lunacy.

      His poor embattled grandmother had tried hard to convince him that Mel could have been Gregory’s daughter. It had upset him enormously at the time, but he had never really believed it. His gut told him not. And his gut was right. It was a pathetic and cruel attempt on his grandmother’s part to separate him from Mel. Yet he had understood his grandmother’s raging jealousy. His grandfather had lost his heart. But not to his lawfully wedded wife. It was there in his grandfather’s eyes every time he looked at Sarina.

      He had no idea when that love had been consummated. Perhaps after the tragic death of Mel’s father. Mike Norton had been a leading hand on Maru Downs, a North Queensland station in the Langdon chain. His grandfather’s normal practice was to visit all the stations and the outstations checking on operations. There he had met Sarina, Mike Norton’s beautiful young wife.

      His grandfather had offered Mike a job on Kooraki. No question Mike had been foreman material, well up to the job offered, but the intense allure of Norton’s young wife could have been the deciding factor. Was that what had happened? His grandfather had been a man of strong passions. Sexual passion had a way of not allowing its victims to escape.

      He should know.

      Afterwards, she told herself she didn’t really remember walking down the corridor to Dev’s room. Maybe her mind was playing tricks, surrendering to a dream. It was not as though they didn’t know one another’s body intimately, but the thrill, the rapture, the sense of belonging had never lessened, never lost its power.

      Dev heard the door handle turn. He swung onto his back, looking up to see Mel framed in the doorway. There was enough light from the full moon to see her clearly. She was wearing a pale coloured nightgown that shimmered like moonbeams.

      He sat up, startled, supporting himself on one elbow. “Are you okay?”

      She shook her dark head.

      “What is it, Mel?”

      She gave a little laugh that sounded like a sob. “I’m never okay. You know that.” She moved across the room, then sat on the side of his bed, staring into his eyes.

      “You can’t do this, Mel,” he protested, his whole body powerfully, painfully aroused.

      “I want to sleep with you,” she said, dragging the top sheet away from him. It exposed his naked hard-muscled chest with its tracery of golden hair.

      His voice held a tense warning. “You get into this bed and we’re going to have sex, Mel,” he said. “You know that. So don’t try the little-sister routine.”

      “No, no. I come to you for comfort, like I always used to.” She hesitated for a fraught moment, then said, “How long did we think we might be closely related, Dev?”

      He exploded, just as she knew he would. “For half a second! Well, me, anyway. Always the eternal anguish, Mel, the eternal question. You’d go to any lengths to drive me mad. Do you seriously believe I would have ever touched you had I believed it? Are you that crazy?”

      She shook her head in shame.

      “Am I supposed to give you a round of applause for that?”

      “Don’t be like that, Dev,” she begged. “There was so much gossip.”

      “Mireille’s poison.” His verdict was harsh. “She had a great talent for implying sinister, cruel lies. Jealousy is one of the most powerful deadly sins. It gets people murdered every day of the week.”

      “Poison finds its way into the bloodstream. My mother bewitched him.”

      Dev put his two hands to his head, groaning. “Okay, so she did! And hasn’t there been a tremendous emotional fallout?” Angry and immensely frustrated, he put strong hands on her, pulling her down and then into the bed beside him. “Are we going to continue this interminable conversation?” He hooked one strong arm around her. “You, woman, drive me mad. I just want to draw a secure circle around the two of us so no one can get in. God knows we’ve lived our lives with controlling people. Both of us have resented it bitterly. As a consequence, you’re in retreat from me in case I turn into the biggest controller of them all.”

      Her laugh was woefully off-key. “Let’s face it, being the man in control is going to be your role, Dev. You’ll find that out when your grandfather’s will is read. Most of the time I was able to separate the truth from the sick rumours. But I was just a little kid, Dev. My father was dead. Mum and I had no protection from that all-important quarter. My father wouldn’t have stood for—”

      “I find the whole issue unbearable, Mel. I worry about you. You’re so clever, so seemingly confident, a beautiful woman. Anyone would say you’ve had the lot, yet a crucial part of you remains a lost little girl. Fragile.”

      “I am not!” she protested, hitting a hand to his shoulder.

      He caught her hand, kissed it. “Most people don’t see it. I do. So my grandfather and your mother loved one another. Is there anything wrong with love? Love might be madness, but it’s glorious, as well. Look at you and me. It takes a real man to put up with you. God knows my granddad didn’t get unconditional love and affection from my grandmother. She was the ultimate possessive woman. It helped to be an heiress in her own right. Gregory was her paid-for possession. She did pump a lot of her own money into Kooraki during the lean times.”

      “Then he married her for her money?”

      “Maybe he thought she was a lot more docile than she really was. He wouldn’t be the first man to take a wealthy bride. He sure isn’t going to be the last. Countless women marry for money, social position, security. Nothing much has changed from the old-style marriage of convenience. It still goes on. The odd thing is that a lot of the time it works better than the madly in love scenario. Like us.”

      Mel didn’t argue. She had observed that among her circle of high-flying friends. “I suppose neither side has high expectations of the other,” she offered in explanation.

      “For the life of me, I couldn’t do it,” Dev said. “But I’m not going to spend the rest of my life tippy-toeing around you, Mel. You reckon I’m a tough guy, right?”

      “Precisamente,” she said. “You’re already tycoonish.”

      “Tycoonish? Is there such a word? If there is, spare me!” he groaned. “A ruthless tycoon could have found a sure way to capture you. I could have made you mine. Made you pregnant. You would have had to marry me and not carry on with all the old-style, hopelessly outdated class distinctions.”

      “They’ll never be outdated,” she contradicted flatly. “It’s human nature. God, Dev, I’d love to be pregnant,” she cried. “My biological clock is ticking away. I want children. I love children. I want to hold our baby in my arms.”

      “Stop, oh, stop! I have a burning need to clarify this. You want our baby?”

      “Of course I do.”

      “You mean I don’t need to give up hope?” he shot back with extreme sarcasm.

      “You know what they say—hope springs eternal.”

      “Quit the smart talk, Mel. I’m in no mood for it. You have a bizarre way of attaining your objectives. But then you probably deal in the larger concepts of life. I’m too busy.”

      “I know how hard you work,” she said in a conciliatory tone.

      “Can you tell me this? Are you planning on prolonging this sex-starved unmarried state for the foreseeable future?”

      “It is exciting,” she said, shivers running down her spine.

      “Oh, yes. Unlike you, I don’t consider it to be cool. You’re using your beautiful body as a serious weapon, like right now. No, don’t get angry.” He placed a taut restraining arm across her breasts. “Think about it.”


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