The Cattleman's Special Delivery Page 9
‘Really?’ It was hardly a party.
Reece was smiling as he shook his head. ‘Believe me. It was a stand out.’
She caught a flash of sadness in his eyes. It was as quick as the flick of a horse’s tail, but she knew she hadn’t been mistaken. It made her wonder about all the birthdays Reece had spent alone here with Michael and she felt the strongest urge to reach out and hug him.
Just thinking about it, she felt her skin heat again. To cover the moment, she said, ‘Would you like another piece of cake?’
He laughed. ‘Why not? Will you join me?’
It was deliciously intimate, sitting alone in the candlelight with happy memories of the party warming them as they ate second helpings of the luscious layer cake.
‘So, how long is it since you had a party?’ Jess couldn’t resist asking.
‘Twenty-eight years.’
‘Really?’
‘My last birthday party was when I was five.’
‘Oh, my gosh.’
Reece shrugged, sliced a chunk of cake with his fork. ‘Dad never managed to produce cakes or parties. Each year he’d put money in my bank account instead. I guess he hoped it would make up for the lack of a present.’
He gave a smiling roll of his eyes, as if he was trying to make light of it. ‘I wanted toys, though.’
‘Of course you wanted toys.’ Jess’s heart ached for the lonely boy he’d been. Her own childhood hadn’t been too flash with a cash-strapped single mum and the itinerant ‘uncles’, but at least she’d always had presents on her birthday. Dolls, books, a bike, perfume.
‘What about your mum?’ Jess had to ask. ‘Did she remember you?’
‘Sure. She used to send me clothes. I’d make Dad take a photo of me. To send back to her.’
‘Oh.’
Clothes, not toys. So not what a boy wanted.
Once again Reece smiled, but Jess could feel the pain behind his smile. She was so glad they’d made an effort today and she vowed there and then that she would always make a big fuss of Rosie’s birthdays. She wouldn’t spoil her little girl, but she definitely wanted her to grow up feeling loved and special and secure.
They put their cake plates and forks in the sink. Went down the silent passage to their rooms.
In the hallway they paused, inches apart, and Jess could feel her blood pumping. Thundering. She was sure Reece swayed towards her, and once again she could sense the same killing tension in him that was torturing her. Tonight, her emotions were brimming over. If he wanted to kiss her, she was ready.
So ready and waiting.
More than ready, truth be told.
‘Goodnight, Jess,’ he said gruffly as he pushed his bedroom door open.
‘Goodnight, Reece.’
She was talking to the door.
* * *
Perhaps it was just as well, Jess decided much later after she’d finally, finally cooled down. If Reece had made a move to kiss her, she might have climbed all over him and made a fool of herself. Much better to have retreated back into their corners.
Their caution was sensible. They’d become closer friends this evening without tipping the delicate balance and finding themselves in a complicated relationship. This was good, Jess told herself, although deep down she was torn between needing to know how Reece really felt about her and knowing they shouldn’t and mustn’t change anything.
* * *
Everything had changed tonight.
Reece stood in his room, looking at the familiar furniture he’d known all his life and knowing that he would never be quite the same again.
Jess probably had no idea how much she’d touched him. For her, the party was a small gesture of kindness, but she’d held out a true hand of friendship. He felt unbelievably happy, as if she’d magically erased the decades of disappointment that had blighted this dubious anniversary.
And Jess had done more than simply throw a party tonight. She’d made entertaining at Warringa look miraculously easy. This evening’s simple dinner had been so much fun, and Reece found himself wondering why he and his father hadn’t made a bigger effort to socialise. The last thing he wanted was to become a surly recluse like his dad.
But perhaps the biggest thing he’d learned tonight was that keeping his distance from Jess was not only crazy. It was impossible.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THINGS changed a little for Jess after the birthday. Reece wasn’t in quite such a rush to get away in the mornings. She usually had the radio playing softly in the background and they got into the habit of listening to the six a.m. news and then chatting about it afterwards.
And Reece seemed to make it back earlier in the evenings too. Many nights now, he was home in time for dinner, and a new pattern emerged. Sometimes, they played a game of five hundred with Michael after the meal. Other nights they watched television, which arrived at Warringa via a satellite dish. Or if Michael retired early, Reece and Jess would read for a bit—in the lounge room together, rather than separately in their bedrooms.
Jess genuinely appreciated his company, loved his quiet humour, his surprising wit, his calmness.
Two weeks later, the last of the cattle were branded and included into the herd, or shipped away to fattening blocks further south. The muster on Warringa was over and Reece spent one entire day lazing, shirtless, in a hammock on the back veranda, drinking icy beer, dozing, reading and cheering Rosie, who’d now started crawling and was turning into quite a little show-off.
Reece announced that Jess had earned a day off too, or at least a break from her normal routine.
‘Why don’t we go out to the gorge tomorrow,’ he suggested. ‘Take a picnic lunch and swimming gear.’
‘I didn’t know you had a gorge. That sounds interesting.’
The gorge was quite spectacular, actually. In many ways it was too good to keep hidden. More than once, Reece had considered reducing the cattle herd and starting up a tourist venture. Michael was dead set against it, though.
At least Jess’s reaction to the scenery was gratifying. Her jaw dropped next day when they arrived at the head of the gorge and she saw the rocky escarpments falling away beneath her to the deep aqua-green cavern of water below.
‘It’s beautiful. But I’ll have to hang on to Rosie.’
‘Don’t worry. I can drive you to a safer spot where we can swim.’
‘Are there crocodiles?’
‘Not where we’re going.’
She sent him a wary smile.
‘You can trust me, Jess.’
‘Of course I can,’ she said softly. ‘You showed me that on the night I first met you.’
The shining look in her eyes made Reece want to leap high mountains, fight off wild beasts, light protective fires at the door to her cave.
Actually, Reece did light a small fire when they reached the rock pool where he planned to swim. He made billy tea and they drank from tin mugs, sitting on a rocky ledge and dangling their feet in the cool water, and he enjoyed holding Rosie, who seemed super excited about her new surroundings.
After their tea, Jess changed into her swimsuit behind a rock. She knew she shouldn’t feel super self-conscious about appearing semi-naked in front of Reece, but she did, of course. At least the costume was a one-piece in figure-slimming, stretch-mark-hiding black. She stripped Rosie down too and carried her to the water.
This would be her baby’s first swim.
It helped to concentrate on Rosie, rather than on the tall, broad-shouldered figure nearby. Reece in bathers was a distraction Jess tried to ignore. With little success.
The water was surprisingly cool and at first Rosie squawked with terror, but she soon adapted, and her cries changed to delighted chortles as she splashed madly, thrilled with this new game.
It wasn’t long before Reece appeared at Jess’s side, all strapping muscles and sleek satin skin, glistening with water. Jess tried not to stare. She really tried.
‘You should have a swim,’ he said. ‘I can ho
ld Rosie for a while.’
‘That’d be great. Thanks.’
It wasn’t actually possible to hand the baby over without touching him and, of course, the connection sent a live current shooting through her. So maddening when she was trying extra hard these days to remain immune. But just being with Reece, she felt restless and edgy, as if she’d swallowed fireflies, and there was a permanent, yearning ache low inside her. It was so unhelpful to be constantly attracted to her boss.
As soon as Reece had a safe hold of the wriggling babe, Jess dived quickly away, and she stayed underwater, skimming over the sandy bottom, over the pebbles and reedy clumps to eventually surface, lungs bursting, at the far end of the pool. At a safe distance.
Rolling onto her back, she floated, looking up at the red rocky walls and the cobalt-blue sky. There was an occasional tree growing out of the wall, miraculously rooted, despite the heavy rains and winds that came with the wet season.
It was a typically picturesque outback scene, the sort of postcard-perfect image many people overseas associated with Australia.
Concentrate on the scenery. Forget Reece. You’re lucky to be seeing this place.
So much was different about her life now—the lovely big homestead, the wide open spaces and now this spectacular gorge. She couldn’t imagine going back to living in a tiny flat in the city. But that day would come, of course.
For now, she had to make the most of this fabulous opportunity. Not only was she a full-time mum, but her latest bank statements had arrived, and the horrible amounts that she owed were finally beginning to creep a tiny bit downwards.
Everything could be perfect here.
All she had to do now was swim back to the other end of the pool and take no notice of Reece’s spectacular muscles.
Which was impossible, of course, but at least she could busy herself with towels, and with getting herself and Rosie dry.
Michael rolled up the bottoms of his trousers and waded in the shallows. They ate their lunch in the dappled sunlight of an overhanging paperbark, and after lunch Michael curled in the shade and had a nap. Reece took off his shirt—Jess prayed for strength—and he made a sling to carry Rosie and then persuaded Jess to join him on a hike.
‘The walking will put her to sleep,’ he suggested.
And it will wind me into a fever, Jess thought. But she went anyhow, and it was actually very enjoyable to walk along the rocky floor of the gorge, listening to Reece’s laid-back drawl as he talked about the first inhabitants of this country, and showed her some wonderful Aboriginal handprints on a cave wall.
‘I often think I’d like to open this place up and let more visitors in,’ he said.
‘Tourists?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve fantasised about building accommodation with views down the gorge. People could use canoes or dinghies to explore.’
‘Would you really want strangers tramping all over your land?’
‘Under supervision. It could add a new dimension to life out here.’
It certainly could, and it would counter the loneliness factor. Jess’s head was already running away, imagining exciting possibilities. ‘You’d need a decent cook,’ she said.
Reece’s eyes flashed. ‘I would. Do you know one?’
She was sure he didn’t expect her to answer this. His shirtless state was causing her enough problems without discussing impossible fantasy futures with him.
She hoped she’d calm down again once they were back at the homestead, once she was busy with dinner and the nightly rituals of Rosie’s bath and bedtime. To her dismay, she was still on edge at ten p.m., and she was still thinking far too much about Reece.
She found it impossible to sleep.
* * *
Well after ten, Reece was on the veranda, elbows on the railing, staring out at the moon-dappled paddocks too stirred for sleep. It was impossible when every time he closed his eyes he saw Jess in her bathers, saw her slim, shapely figure, her pale arms and legs, her hair, sleek and wet, the lovely curve of her bum, such a tempting handful.
He’d come out here to switch those thoughts off, but when he heard soft footsteps in the hallway he whirled around, saw a flash of white.
And there she was.
In her nightdress.
Bloody hell.
Ignoring his body’s unhelpful reaction, he took a step towards her. ‘Is everything OK, Jess?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep. I was about to tiptoe down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.’
But now, instead of continuing sensibly on to the kitchen, she came onto the veranda. Her dark hair was loose and flowing about her shoulders and her long nightdress was made from T-shirt material. In the pale moonlight, her skin looked softer than ever. He could see the lush outline of her breasts, their teasing peaks pushing against the fabric.
Desire thundered through him in rolling waves. He’d been going mad all day, ever since the rock pool. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to resist Jess now. If she came any closer...
She stepped closer.
She lifted her face, and in the moonlight her lips were soft and full and the palest pink. ‘What are you doing out here?’
‘I’m not sleepy either,’ he admitted reluctantly.
She looked up with a tiny smile, and with something else. An awareness. A challenge in her lovely green eyes.
A challenge he couldn’t resist.
When she opened her mouth to say something more, he dipped his head and silenced her with the briefest touch of his lips.
She stilled momentarily, then sighed softly, sweetly, and swayed against him, almost as if her legs had given way. As he increased the pressure and slipped his arms around her she melted into him, her lips opening to him like a flower to the sun.
He couldn’t quite believe he was holding Jess. Holding her and kissing her. At last. He knew this shouldn’t be happening, but she was so sexy and soft and womanly, and willing. And he was burning up with need, driven wild by the taste and smell of her and the slow, sensuous dance of their tongues.
He deepened the kiss, binding her tightly against him, his hands cupping her bottom, holding her where he needed her, her heat to his hardness. And he sensed the wildness running loose in her. Pushing them both to the brink. Oh, God...
He wanted her. Wanted to lose himself in her, but he knew he had to stop.
He must stop.
He’d started this, but he had to stop.
Now.
Before they fell over the edge into madness.
He was trembling as he released her. And then, as they stepped apart, as cool air touched where her silky warmth had been, sanity returned with a chilling rush.
He shot a wary glance to Jess. ‘I apologise. That wasn’t supposed to happen.’
To his surprise she was actually smiling, but when he shook his head her smile faded. Abruptly, she turned from him and leaned on the railing, looking out into the endless stretch of the night. ‘You’re right,’ she said softly.
He almost wished Jess would argue, tell him he was crazy to worry.
Her shoulders were hunched, her face tight. ‘So I suppose we should pretend it didn’t happen.’
He almost snatched her back into his arms. ‘We have to. It’s common sense.’
‘Yes.’
But he also knew that it wasn’t sensible to keep dancing around each other, trying to pretend that they weren’t attracted. They were adults, not silly teenagers.
‘If we were still in Cairns,’ he said gruffly. ‘Or—or damn New York—or anywhere but here, it would be different.’
Lifting her chin, Jess frowned at the stretch of dark countryside rendered invisible by the night. He supposed she must have been wondering why being out here changed the rules.
‘Out here there’s no point in starting anything,’ he said, knowing how inadequate that probably sounded.
He was digging a hole for himself. He should drop this crazy conversation immediately. Walk away. Go to bed.r />
But he was captured by the sight of her, staring again, out into the night, her hair rippling about her shoulders like dark water.
‘So what are you telling me?’ she asked. ‘That you live like a monk out here?’
He sighed, closed his mind to the memories of his brief, unsatisfactory encounters in recent years.
Now Jess turned to him, and she looked worried. ‘I’m sorry. I assumed you wouldn’t have kissed me if you had a girlfriend.’
He glared down at his hands, white knuckled as he gripped the railing. ‘There’s no girlfriend.’ But then, he felt compelled to set the record straight. ‘I still shouldn’t have kissed you, Jess. I should have shown more respect.’
‘Respect?’ Her eyes widened as she regarded him with a puzzled smile.
‘You’re a newly bereaved widow.’
Now she blushed as she whirled away from him.
Oh, God.
Her face burst into flames. She hadn’t given Alan a thought tonight. She wasn’t sure how long bereavement usually lasted. It wasn’t that she hadn’t grieved for him. Of course, she’d been sad about losing her husband. His death was shocking...and she’d felt a terrible loss, but she’d also been worn down by the reality of their marriage.
Alan had left her with so many problems, and with as many bad memories as good ones. It was hard not to feel resentful now, as if she were still being punished.
She felt a need to explain. ‘To be honest, I don’t feel guilty. My marriage was pretty rocky. Alan and I had problems.’
Reece’s face was grim as he took this in. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
Jess thought he might leave then, but he remained there, by her side, leaning on the railing, looking out across the dark paddocks. She wondered what he was thinking.
For her own part, she couldn’t stop thinking about his kiss—the paralysing moment of anticipation, and then the first thrilling touch of his lips to hers, the bliss of being swept into his arms, of being held against him. And then the blaze of longing, the wonderful craziness...
She couldn’t hold back a wistful sigh and when she turned to him and met his steady, dark gaze, she refused to look away. But his eyes were so fiercely intent that she eventually had to look down again.