Argentinian in the Outback. Margaret Way

Argentinian in the Outback - Margaret Way


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I’m getting a little nervous around you,” Ava murmured.

      He straightened. “You are very safe with me.”

      “I know that,” she said hurriedly. “You also know what I mean. If you want a swim we have many lagoons. Dev, Amelia and I spend countless hours swimming in our favourite lagoon, the Half-Moon. The most gorgeous water lilies on the station grow there—the sacred blue lotus. They decorate the perimeter, along with all the water reeds. The lagoon is very deep in the middle. One day you can swim there. Maybe have a picnic.”

      “With you?” He fixed his dark eyes on her.

      “Maybe,” she said, half turning away.

      “Maravillosa!” He had an instant vision of her, naked as a water nymph, her long golden hair cascading over her shoulders, her beautiful skin with the lustre of a pearl.

      Ava, for her part, was glad of her gift for composure—even if it was being giving an almighty workout. She pointed upwards, a pulse beating in her throat. “There’s a big cave up there that goes so far back into the hills I used to be terrified I would get lost if I ventured too far. See, Varo?” She glanced at him, only to find him looking at her. “It’s the one partially camouflaged by those feathery sprays of acacia. You’ll have to duck your head at the entrance, but the interior at the central point is over two metres high.”

      “The roof has never caved in on anyone?” he asked, beginning to stare upwards.

      Ava gave a little shudder. “Never. But I didn’t dare to venture into the cave’s recesses like Dev. Even Mel was scared. We have a famous mystery novel called Picnic at Hanging Rock, written by Joan Lindsay. It was made into a film way back in the 1970s. It tells the story of the disappearance of several schoolgirls and their teacher during a picnic at Hanging Rock on St Valentine’s Day. The book is in our library at home. I’ve read and re-read it. It’s a haunting tale. The missing party was never found.”

      “You think you will disappear as well?” he asked in teasing fashion.

      “Wait until you’re inside the cave,” she replied, her composure regained.

      “You think I’ll get cold feet?”

      “Laugh all you like.” She gave him a sparkling look that was like a brief taunt. “I’ve known visitors to our great desert monuments, the aboriginal sacred sites Uluru and Kata Tjuta, come away stunned by the atmosphere. Why, some find the Valley of the Winds at Kata Tjuta very scary—especially when the winds are blowing. It’s another world.”

      “One I intend to visit.” He put out his elegant tanned hand. “Let me help you.”

      His wonderfully expressive voice sounded so tender her heart shook. She had no recourse but to put her hand in his, feeling his long fingers close around hers. She had known from the start nothing was going to be normal with this man. The suppressed excitement, the assault on her senses was way out of her experience. She had not dreamed of anything like this.

      Together they climbed. A rock wallaby, startled by the approach of two figures, bounded back down the steep slope, making short work of reaching the bottom. Once when Ava’s foothold slipped Vero gathered her close, wrapping one arm around her. She gave an involuntary little cry. She knew it wasn’t fright. It was something far more dangerous that had her catching her breath.

      At that height the rumbling of the waterfall was much louder. Big splashes fell over them—not enough to soak on such a hot day, but having a wonderful effect. Ava found herself taking droplets of cold water into her dry mouth. She wondered if this was how Amelia felt with Dev. There was a palpable ache inside her. It was sexual.

      Gradually the footholds became narrower, but she turned her feet sideways just as she had done as a child. Varo might have been an experienced rock climber for all the trouble he was having. For all she knew he might have made an attempt on Mount Everest at one time. His own majestic Andes were close by his estancia, with a splendour rivalling the Himalayas.

      In a final burst they reached the top, both of them turning to stare down at the infinite plains that spread out to the horizon. Not a single cloud broke up the dazzling peacock-blue of the sky.

      “This is magic!” Varo exclaimed. “Superb!”

      He still kept an arm around her. Maybe he had forgotten?

      “And there’s much more to see.” She broke contact, restless and madly energetic. She might have caught fire from him. “Keep your head down until I tell you to lift it,” she warned, preparing to enter the cave first.

      In their shared childhood she, Dev and Amelia had always brought torches so they could explore inside. On a fairly recent climb she and Dev had left a lantern behind. When lit, it threw a very satisfactory light over the interior.

      Varo reached out to pull away the curtain of vines that wreathed the neck of the cave.

      “It’s dark inside,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t forget to keep your head down.”

      He nodded. He had no need to be told. In actual fact he had kept right behind her, to catch her should she slip on all the loose pebbles as fine as gravel.

      Then the plunge into the tunnel!

      It wasn’t as dark as he’d expected. Although no ray of blazing sunshine pierced the cave, it still managed to cast a luminescence. He was able to judge the moment to stand erect. He saw her kneeling on the ground near one wall of the great tunnel, then there was suddenly light. Golden light that lit the cave and danced over the sandstone walls.

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