Heir To Danger. Valerie Parv

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СКАЧАТЬ awkward compliment warmed her. So he thought she was beautiful, did he? The clumsy words meant more to her than all of Jamal’s eloquent flattery, and were probably far more sincere. “You obviously haven’t heard the women’s rules,” she murmured, letting him off the hook. “Rule one, the woman is always right. Rule two, if the woman is wrong, refer to rule one.”

      He gave a theatrical groan. “Don’t let Judy hear you say that. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

      “Judy’s my friend. Perhaps I owe it to her.” Shara was amazed to feel jealousy scraping along her nerves. Was there any romantic interest between him and Des’s daughter? Again she asked herself why she cared.

      “She’s okay,” he admitted grudgingly. “When we were kids, she considered it her mission in life to give me as hard a time as possible. Do you have sisters?”

      She shook her head. The lack was a source of sorrow to her. “I have one older brother, Sadiq. Our mother died when I was born. We were raised by our grandmother who was born in Australia.” She didn’t add that Noni had crossed swords with their father about almost everything to do with their upbringing. Where his son and heir was concerned, King Awad had won every battle. Not for the first time, Shara wondered if he had done his daughter a favor, letting Noni have her way when it came to raising Shara herself. Would she have found it easier to accept her father’s plans for her if her upbringing had been more conventional?

      “Tough break. My mother’s gone, too. I still miss her,” Tom said, interrupting her thoughts.

      “Were you very young when she died?”

      “Twelve. It should never have happened.” His voice held a rasping quality she had already begun to recognize as emotion, quickly suppressed in the manner of Australian men. She also sensed there was something he wasn’t telling her. It sounded as if his mother had died in an accident. Did he blame himself? This was certainly something she could understand.

      “I never knew my mother, but I felt responsible for her death,” she said.

      “You didn’t ask to be born. If anyone deserves blame it’s fate, or your father.”

      Again she had the uncanny feeling Tom was speaking of his own experience. She didn’t know him well enough to ask, but it didn’t stop her wanting to. “What about brothers?”

      “I have three foster brothers. Blake runs the local crocodile farm. Ryan is a jackeroo on a property farther north. We don’t see much of him or Cade, who’s a wildlife photographer for magazines. Judy is the only girl. After she was born, Des and his late wife, Fran, found out they couldn’t have any more children so they became foster parents.”

      Shara nodded. “And your real family?”

      “They are my real family.”

      Taking a hint from his gruff tone, she turned to the scenery jolting past the car window as he steered the heavy vehicle over the corrugated track. Since she wasn’t prepared to open up to him about herself, respecting his privacy was the least she could do.

      “Am I keeping you from your work?” she asked.

      “I started a couple of weeks’ vacation today. Most days I start work at dawn, before the heat builds up, take a break and catch up on paperwork about now, then finish anything that needs doing when the day cools down.”

      “What were you doing out here?”

      “Heading to the homestead for dinner with Des and Judy.”

      At least she wasn’t dragging him out of his way.

      “How long have you been here?” Tom asked.

      “Two days. Des said I can stay as long as I like.”

      Tom nodded. “He would.”

      His gruff tone didn’t disguise his obvious affection for his foster father. “Judy told me he makes a habit of taking in strays,” Shara said.

      “Like me and my foster brothers,” he agreed.

      Like her, too, she thought with a pang. “Are they all as big as you?” she asked.

      Tom slanted a grin at her. “We’re all taller than Des.”

      “And you’re all from different families?”

      “Yeah.” He didn’t seem to want to elaborate, then surprised her by adding, “My real mother was Irish and my dad’s one-eighth Aboriginal, if you hadn’t already guessed.”

      His smooth skin had a tanned look she found disturbingly attractive. “Is it a problem?”

      “Not around here. Maybe in the big smoke, the city,” he elaborated for her benefit. “Out here, you’re judged by your actions.”

      What did his actions tell her about him? First condoning a barbaric punishment, then being prepared to endure it in her place? More hero than villain, she decided.

      Carrying her, his arms had felt strong and supportive. Tending to her leg, his touch had been almost unbearably gentle. And she hadn’t missed the gleam of male response to the shapely calf her torn jeans had revealed. He had made her feel feminine and, yes, beautiful, restoring some of the pride in herself Jamal had threatened to crush.

      She found herself warming to Tom, wanting to tell him the truth about herself, but still felt unsure. She knew nothing about him beyond what her instincts told her. Could she trust them?

      “You’ve had a pretty poor welcome to the Kimberley,” he said.

      He was making amends without knowing it. She put a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles tighten and her pulse skip in response. The temptation to trust became a certainty. “It’s over now.”

      Tom wished he could dismiss his part in her injury so readily. Seeing the danger she’d been in, he’d tried his best to protect her, but doubt wracked him. Could he have talked Wandarra into letting her off? Or would Andy’s people have come looking for her later and inflicted worse harm?

      According to the outback credo, what was done was done and you moved on. Tom knew he should also be moving on. But something about Shara made him wish the drive to the homestead was twice as long. Her touch on his arm felt like a fresh brand. Amazing that there wasn’t a mark on his skin.

      Her skin was the color of milk coffee, satiny and soft in contrast to his own. Scratches marred her skin where she had tracked the kangaroo through the bushes into the gorge, more concerned for the animal’s safety than her own. He felt an un-characteristic urge to kiss them better.

      Not sure what impulse drove him, he asked, “What are you afraid of, Shara?”

      “What makes you think I’m afraid?”

      “Before you thought better of it, you started to say you came here to be safe. Are you running away from something?”

      “Not something, someone,” she confessed, sounding relieved by the admission.

      “A man?” She nodded. Feeling a surge of jealousy, he asked, “A lover?”

      She СКАЧАТЬ