Claiming the Cattleman's Heart. Barbara Hannay

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СКАЧАТЬ she yanked the door open and jumped into the passenger seat.

      By the time Daniel ambled round to the driver’s door, Lily had removed her hat. And, as he settled behind the wheel, she slipped off the blue elastic band that tied back her hair and shook it free.

      Her hair was heavy and silky, the pale colour of new hemp rope. It tumbled in waves over her shoulders like rippling water, and with a complete lack of self-consciousness she began to sift strands of it through her fingers. Finally, she lifted the full weight of it from the back of her neck, exposing damp little curls stuck to her warm pink skin. Then she re-twisted her hair into a loose knot and slipped the band back into place.

      During the entire process Daniel watched, transfixed.

      Eventually, Lily glanced sideways and realised he was staring at her. Their gazes met. And froze. They both held their breaths.

      Something happened.

      Something in Lily’s misty blue-grey eyes reached deep into the darkness inside Daniel and tugged. He felt an almost shocking sense of connection. It was completely unexpected.

      Damn.

      Lily gulped.

      Oh, man.

      Oh…man…It was crazy, actually, the way she was reacting to Daniel Renton. She’d made quite a fool of herself on the riverbank by gaping at his bare shoulders and chest. Such a silly reaction from a girl who’d grown up in the Sugar Bay hippie community, where skinny-dipping was an almost everyday occurrence.

      Then again, how could she not be impressed? The tapering line from Daniel’s broad shoulders to his flat stomach and lean hips would have made Michelangelo’s David look like a mere boy.

      And now, within the confines of his truck’s cabin, mere inches from his face—from his blue eyes, deep-set and wary beneath strong dark brows, his jaw made extra rugged by a day or two’s growth of beard—she felt distinctly breathless. She’d never met a man who was quite so devastatingly, so uncompromisingly…

      Male.

      Daniel Renton was masculinity distilled. And, to be honest, he was just a little dangerous-looking. So tense and guarded. Suspicious, almost. Fine shivers scampered down Lily’s spine. Why would he look at her that way—as if she was a threat to him, as if he had something to hide?

      Good grief, was she crazy to be jumping into a vehicle with a stranger? She’d been so desperate to get fuel she’d grabbed the chance, but had she been a tad reckless? Perhaps she should leap out of this truck right now and take her chances back out on the road.

      Or was she overreacting? Perhaps Daniel’s wariness was the natural reserve of a man who lived in the remote Outback.

      She wrapped her arms over her bare midriff, but it wasn’t her exposed middle he was looking at. He seemed preoccupied with her face, but she couldn’t think why. Hers was a very ordinary face—a little too round, inclined to freckle, with eyes a nondescript shade. Seconds earlier he’d been looking at her hair—almost as if he’d never seen long, wavy hair before. Again, there was nothing remarkable about her hair. A very ordinary colour. Sandy—neither blonde nor brown.

      Daniel lifted his hand and Lily jumped. For one breathless moment she thought he was actually going to touch her hair, and she felt a flash of fear. And then she felt something else that startled her, deep in the pit of her stomach—a shiver of shameless interest. What would it be like to be touched by this man?

      But then he seemed to come to his senses, and his hand slammed back onto the steering wheel.

      Lily let out her breath, and the muscles in Daniel’s throat moved as if he was having difficulty swallowing.

      Frowning fiercely, he jerked his gaze to the front. He seemed suddenly unhappy, and Lily felt unhappy too. None of this would have happened if she’d stopped for petrol in that last little town she’d so gaily flashed through a couple of hours ago. At the time she’d been singing ‘Hit the Road, Jack’ at the top of her voice. Now she cringed to think she’d been so naive, so foolishly confident that there would be more little towns, more places to fill up with petrol long before she reached Gidgee Springs.

      Her thoughts flew to Fern, her mother. I’m sorry, Mum. I’ve stuffed up.

      She grimaced when she remembered the pain in Fern’s eyes as she’d waved her off this morning, smiling bravely. She would do anything to keep her mother out of a wheelchair, which was why she was on this journey. Her plan was to meet Audrey Halliday, her father’s widow—the woman Marcus Halliday had married after he’d abandoned Fern—and to shamelessly beg Audrey for money for the operation Fern needed.

      But now Lily’s mission of mercy was in jeopardy. Totally. Unless this strange and taciturn man was prepared to help her.

      While she was lost in her anxious thoughts, Daniel started the ute suddenly, and it lurched down the rough bush track at such a reckless speed that Lily had no time to fasten her seatbelt.

      Toppling sideways, she fell against his hard shoulder. She tried to support herself, and her hand landed on his thigh, her splayed fingers gripping the denim of his jeans.

      Beneath the thin and faded fabric, still damp from his recent swim, iron-hard muscles bunched at her touch.

      ‘Sorry,’ she squeaked, snatching her hand away.

      He growled something incomprehensible and Lily didn’t respond. Her heart was pounding unmercifully and, with more dignity than was necessary, she eased herself back into her seat and pulled the seatbelt across her and into place. Daniel drove more slowly, keeping his eyes on the narrow track. And Lily decided she had no choice but to trust him.

      Their journey was rough going. Long grass grew between the wheel ruts, scraping the underbelly of the ute, and she recognised overgrown weeds—lantana bushes and Chinee apple—running wild along the edges, almost taking over the track in places.

      As Daniel swerved to dodge another huge clump of lantana, she said, ‘This property is wonderfully wild.’

      ‘It hasn’t always been like this.’ He muttered this defensively. ‘I—I’ve been away.’

      ‘Travelling?’

      He shrugged and continued to stare straight ahead through the windscreen. ‘Not really. Just—just working somewhere else.’

      ‘So have I,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ve been working in Sri Lanka.’

      He sent a quick sideways glance her way.

      ‘It was an amazing experience,’ she said. ‘I loved it. I spent twelve months doing voluntary work in a village on the coast.’

      She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to comment, or to tell her what he’d been doing, but he kept staring morosely ahead.

      ‘When I came back,’ she went on, needing to fill the uncomfortable silence, ‘I couldn’t settle into my old life in Sydney. The party-party-party scene just didn’t cut it for me any more, so I went back to Sugar Bay to stay with my mother.’

      ‘Sugar Bay? That’s where all the hippies squatted years ago, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes,’ СКАЧАТЬ