Outback Surrender. Margaret Way

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СКАЧАТЬ has an attractive singing voice. Country and western—that sort of thing. Guests like it. Plus she’s very pretty, as I’m sure you’ll remember.”

      “And you’re not?” He upped the excitement with a lingering gaze.

      “Stop flattering me, Brock Tyson,” she said mock severely. “I don’t know how to deal with it.”

      “I bet you do. In fact, you’ve acquired so much poise you might be getting on for middle-aged,” he joked. “How on earth do you manage to keep the freckles at bay?”

      Sex appeal simply oozed out of this man. With those eyes of his on her Shelley felt like splashing herself with cold water. “I can’t take the credit, Brock. Just genes, I suppose. How long are you going to stay with us?”

      “As long as I can tolerate it,” he said, all of a sudden moody, but still so charismatic he took her breath away. “Kingsley, about to face his Maker, thinks it’s time to get a few things straightened out. My mother was his only daughter. He was supposed to have adored her. That was before my father came along to claim her heart. I never saw any sign of love or affection from my grandfather towards my mother. He just found ways to upset and humiliate her. And hey, Shel, it’s not all his money. Grandma Brockway brought a fortune to the marriage. It was Brockway money that kept my mother and me in the beginning. After that I was able to pay our way. Kingsley sent us off penniless. As you say, he was a cruel man. It’s just that I found his cruelty easier to endure than my poor mother.”

      “Surely in asking you to return home he’s begging your forgiveness?” she suggested, feeling the bitterness and anger coming off him in waves.

      “Then he’s going to be disappointed,” he clipped off. “Judgement Day is coming for Rex Kingsley.”

      “Pray God he accepts it,” she said quietly. “What did you do all the time you were away?” Rex Kingsley had never mentioned his daughter or his grandson from the day they left.

      “Work.” He shrugged. “I had to, as we were pretty much broke. I’ve been involved in breeding and training racehorses at a top stud in Ireland. Impossible to imagine a place more different to our Outback!”

      “Ireland!” she echoed. “So that’s where you got to! So far away. I often wonder what our ancestors thought of their strange new land. Ireland. How exciting! I’m going to go one day. That’s a promise I’ve made to myself. You always were marvellous at handling horses, Brock. You’ve even developed an Irish lilt. Did you like it?”

      “Loved it.” His silver eyes sparkled. “You know how us outbackers are with horses. The Irish are the same. The instant rapport paid off. I did a good job. I made good money, and earned respect from people I admired. I kept my mother secure until she died.”

      “No one here knew where you went.”

      “Kingsley cut us off completely. I returned the favour. More than anything I blame him for turning his back on my mother. Why would I want to notify him when she died?”

      “I’m surprised you came home,” she ventured. Brock, always vivid, had developed a very commanding not to say daunting presence mixed in with the familiar charm.

      “Just occasionally I remember I’m a Kingsley on my mother’s side. If dear old Grandpa wants to reinstate me in his will—and he seems to want to—I’m not going to stop him. My mother was owed. I’m owed.” The silver eyes took on a hard glitter. “They call it atonement.”

      “So you’re staying at Mulgaree? That can’t be easy.” She remembered how Philip and Frances had always been so jealous of Brock, with his energy and effortless skills, the way he stood up to his domineering grandfather.

      “It’s not as though I have to see anyone if I don’t want to.” He gave a brief laugh. “Heaven knows the old barn is big enough.”

      “You used to love it,” she reminded him dryly.

      “And I still do, Emerald Eyes.”

      Shelley Logan was no longer the cute little teenager he remembered. She’d matured. She had a woman’s sensitivity and perception and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Back then she’d been way too young for him, but in the interim the rosebud had opened up velvety perfumed petals.

      He continued to stare at her, holding her gaze captive. Despite the poise he hadn’t been prepared for, she was flushed with colour. Her wild red-gold hair lay loose around her shoulders. Her beautiful eyes were large and lustrous, her mouth sensitive and her chin prettily pointed. If it wouldn’t jeopardize their old easy friendship he would have told her she looked damned sexy.

      “So what’s the verdict?” she asked dryly, with a tilt of her chin.

      “Just checking,” he drawled. “All right, Shel. You’ve changed. You’ve grown up. So what are you doing right now? On your way home to your family?” He recalled the bleakness of Wybourne, the Logans’ loss of all joy.

      “Tomorrow. I can’t make the return trip the same day.”

      “God, I would think not. Look at you! The wind could pick you up and blow you away. Still giving you hell, are they?” In his experience nothing really ever changed.

      She shook her head, her tone mildly chastening. “You shouldn’t talk like that, Brock. I love my family. We survive. I guess I’ll always bear the pain for surviving when Sean didn’t.”

      “You should have said blame. But it was a terrible accident, Shelley. You were a very young child when it happened.”

      “I know, but it doesn’t seem to help.” She looked away.

      “Not when you’re not allowed to forget. Hell,” he burst out explosively, as though the small space couldn’t contain him—as indeed it couldn’t. “Let’s get out of here.” He’d been aware from the moment he’d greeted her that every head was turned in their direction, the well-oiled gossip machine getting underway.

      “Where? I need to get something here.” She glanced in the direction of the counter.

      “Then do it,” he ordered briskly. “You must be staying at the pub?”

      “As it happens, I am.” Brock was still pure flame. Which gave cautious old Shelley an excellent chance of getting burned.

      “Then so am I. I was going to sleep in the truck, but Mick can sort me out a room. What do you say we have dinner? I see Koomera Crossing’s redoubtable schoolmarm Harriet Crompton has opened up a restaurant. No doubt about Miss Crompton! She always was a woman of many talents.”

      “That would be lovely, Brock.” After her earlier fatigue excitement had started to run at full throttle.

      “We have lots to catch up on. The fact is Phil advised me—maybe it was a heavy warning—that you were his girlfriend?” Silver eyes emitted sparks.

      “Why hasn’t he told me that, then?” she said flippantly.

      “You’re too good for him, Shelley.” Brock’s antagonism towards his cousin spilled out.

      She stared up at him for a moment before she answered. Even in misty green Ireland his skin must have seen plenty of sunshine. His olive skin СКАЧАТЬ