In Bed With...Collection. Emma Darcy

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ she breathed in girlish awe, and Miranda sourly thought Nathan undoubtedly had the same effect on every woman. He wasn’t only special to her.

      Nevertheless, despite his drawing the attention of the whole group, it was she he looked at, his gaze boring straight through her defences, shaking her up again, even as she glared back at him, telling herself she wouldn’t let him mean anything to her.

      Bobby was talking at him in a confidential manner. There was no discernible response on Nathan’s face. As they came within easy earshot, Nathan turned to him and said very clearly, “You have the wrong man. This resort is the business of my brother Tommy, and he’s happy to leave its management in Miranda’s very capable hands.”

      So Bobby was already trying to go over her head, Miranda surmised, though Nathan was the wrong man for that, which meant he’d try Tommy next.

      Bobby frowned. “Surely you network.”

      “As a family, yes. But none of us interfere with each other’s areas of special interests.” His face took on a hard arrogance as he pre-empted any reply from Bobby. “Though perhaps I should add that the whole family would swing in to protect any of our interests should they be threatened.” His gaze cut straight to Miranda. “We look after our own in the Kimberly.”

      She was instantly thrown into more turmoil. Did he consider her his? Was he promising she was safe from Bobby, regardless of anything the man said to anyone?

      “You’re one of the Kings?” another male guest queried, obviously fascinated by this exchange.

      Nathan swung to him with a little smile of acknowledgement. “Yes. Nathan King. The cattle station is my business. And you are…?”

      A flurry of introductions and handshakes followed. A keen curiosity about the running of a cattle station prompted several questions at once.

      “Well, one requisite is being ready to cope with any emergency,” Nathan answered. “This afternoon one of my stockmen was thrown from his horse and it looks as though his back may be broken.”

      Expressions of dismay and sympathy rippled around the guests. Miranda frowned. Was this the cause of his late arrival? “Calling an ambulance is not an option out here,” he went on. “Under instructions from the flying doctor service, we trucked him in to the station airstrip, loaded him into a plane and flew him off to hospital.”

      “Any news of him yet?” Miranda asked, guilty about her own selfish concerns when one of Nathan’s men might well be fighting for his life.

      “No.” His vivid blue eyes targeted her. “It was five-thirty by the time we had him safely on his way. I’ve arranged to be called here when information comes in.”

      “Of course,” she said quickly. “Would you like a drink?”

      “Yes.” He nodded towards the bar. “Shall I help myself?”

      The bar attendant was on his way to the group with a tray of cocktails.

      “I’ll make you whatever drink you’d like,” she offered, hoping to have a few private moments with him.

      “Thank you,” he returned drily, as though no longer expecting anything from her.

      Which made Miranda burn with more uncertainties.

      As they both moved towards the bar, Celine called, “Bobby, why is it called a cattle station instead of a ranch?”

      Miranda silently blessed the claim for her husband’s attention.

      “Probably because they use huge road-trains, up to fifty metres long, to take the stock to market,” someone else answered.

      “Yes, and it’s best to get off the road if you see one coming,” another guest chimed in, proceeding to recount his experience of road-trains, which occupied everyone else’s attention.

      A lively distraction from the injured stockman, Miranda thought, then reflected that it might have been Nathan thrown from his horse…and how would she have felt then? Even in her current state of violent confusion, he tugged at something vital in her.

      “I’m sorry…about the stockman,” she blurted. And for her rude greeting, though she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

      “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you on time,” he returned quietly, causing her more inner writhing.

      “The injured man was more important,” she asserted.

      “Sometimes there are injuries that aren’t so easily visible.”

      Miranda’s heart contracted. Was he talking about her? Himself? Bobby? She shot him a questioning glance as she rounded the bar to serve him. “What would you like?”

      His eyes beamed back commanding authority. “I’d like you to seat me at the end of the dinner table with Bobby and Celine Hewson on either side of me. Right now I’ll have a whisky. No ice.”

      She reached for the bottle of whisky, her hands trembling a little, her mind filling with the kind of poison Bobby would pour into Nathan’s ear. “Why do you want to be placed there?” she asked, as she managed to pour his drink.

      “I’d also like you to be seated at the other end of the table, right away from him.”

      Right away from Nathan, too. She wouldn’t be able to hear what was going on between the two men. Which wasn’t fair! How could she defend herself? She handed him the glass of whisky, hating the sense of having no control over the situation.

      “What if I don’t want that?” she challenged.

      His eyes glittered with what looked like contempt. “You like him pawing you?”

      “No!” she cried, shrivelling under the implication.

      “You want to hear how much he still wants you?”

      “You know I don’t!”

      “Do I Miranda?” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes savagely deriding her contention. “I know nothing of what’s gone on between you since he’s arrived. All I know is you cut me dead out on the verandah.”

      “Nothing’s gone on!” she hissed. “And I was upset by that little tableau Bobby put on for you when you arrived.”

      “Running away didn’t resolve anything.”

      “Perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

      “Undoubtedly you weren’t. I see his wife is very attractive. Are you jealous?”

      “She’s welcome to him.”

      “Then why are you objecting to the seating I’ve suggested?”

      “Because…” Miranda clamped her mouth shut. It was madness trying to fight this. She’d been right when she’d whirled back inside. Let Bobby do his worst. Let Nathan think what he liked. She was better off out of it. “Fine!” she clipped out. “Have it your way! I hope you enjoy your dinner!”

СКАЧАТЬ