Cattle Baron: Nanny Needed (17 page)

She tried to breathe steadily. Couldn’t manage it. “Apologise for that.”

“No.” His answer was blunt. “You might like to calm down,
though. Dee’s coming with the coffee. She told me she’s taking care of Marcus tonight.”

Sure enough she fired. “Does that mean we’re free to give in to our desire?”

“Well, I’ve been considering it if you haven’t,” he returned sardonically. “In some ways I regret my inability to withstand you.”

“Of course you do,” she said. “You much prefer to maintain a distance.”

“That’s what’s kept me from knocking your door down.”

He looked as if he meant it. “Ah, so you’re a caveman? You’ve been keeping that from me. Anyway, here’s Dee,” she warned as Dee wheeled the trolley into the room. “She’s within earshot. I don’t want her to see us fighting.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” he asked with a lift of the brow. “You know I pictured something quite different for tonight. But nothing is certain in life.”

“You can say that again!”

They called it a night before the two of them worked up a
real
argument.

“I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me stay until Eliot comes home and Marcus is responding well to the new nanny” was Amber’s parting shot. Extremely unfair because he hadn’t said a thing about her leaving. Over-emotional with the events of the day, she was in a perverse mood, deliberately provoking him.

“
Former
nanny,” he corrected shortly. He stood in the entrance hall, watching her flounce up the stairs with those long beautiful legs. “She was here when Jan was ringing the changes. She’s a very nice woman—widow, early forties, ex-nursing sister, Martha Fenton. She was handling Marcus just fine only Janis swore an oath to get rid of her, just like her predecessor.”

“And me!” Amber reminded him. “Never a kind word. Goodnight, Cal.” She clipped the words off in a tone she had perfected from him.

“You’re not going to your martyrdom, are you?” he called after her in a dark, sardonic voice.

“I’m trying not to charge down the stairs and hit you.” Every electrical circuit in her blood was hot-wired.

Cal gave a short laugh. “And what do you think would happen if you did?” Desire was shooting through his body like a flaming arrow, but he tried to bank it down. She could flounce off tonight. It had been a terrible day for her. But he knew, beyond all denial, he would never let her go. Lock her up if he had to. The sun shone more brightly with Amber around.

She paused to look down at him. His green eyes glittered brilliantly, but his handsome features looked unusually drawn. Her breath caught. “I thought you were trying to put the brakes on, not play with fire?” She hesitated uncertainly.

“I’ve never stopped playing with fire with you around.” He gave that twisted smile. “Go to bed, Amber. Try to get a good night’s sleep. It’s been one hell of a day. I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“Oh, I do!” To her absolute horror she found herself close to tears. Once more her life was running off the rails. And serve her right! There was always something to cause fresh pain. Sean had hurt her pride. This was the kind of pain that went on for ever.

“We’ll talk again,” he promised.

She spun in a passion, a single tear sliding her cheek. “Thanks a lot.”

“Well, it’s a good thing, isn’t it, our talking?” he appealed to her.

“Oh, talk, talk, talk!” she burst out over the lump in her throat. “Why can’t you embrace life, Cal? There are worse things than trusting a woman. Even one with red hair. The trouble with you is you’re
frightened
to reach out.”

“Am I?” he asked crisply.

She ignored the hard challenge. “Of course you are.”

“We’ll see about that.”

To her shock, he started to come after her. There was only one thing to do.
Run!
Though exactly why she was running perplexed her. Maybe it was another weird insight into female behaviour. Her heart pounding, tremors running up and down her arms and legs, she reached her bedroom door. She had left it open when she had gone down to dinner, so she was able to fly through the door, slamming it after her.

The speed with which he arrived at her door was like a jolt to the heart. “Open the door, Amber,” he commanded.

That got to her. No plea. An
order
. “I’m locking it,” she cried. Even to her own ears her voice sounded wild. Lock the man out of his own house?

“Like who owns this house—
you
?”

“You seem to have forgotten I’m your guest.”

“Guests don’t usually start lecturing their hosts,” he called back. “Open up, before I break it down.”

“Suit yourself.” He wouldn’t break down his own beautiful timber door. That would be a crying shame.

Silence. Oh, Lord! He must have gone away. She had to be a basket case because she was terribly, terribly disappointed. Dispiritedly, she collapsed on the side of her bed, trying to calm down. Her heart had been racing in delicious terror; now she waited for it to slow. She could have handled this differently. Why hadn’t she? Didn’t he know how much she loved this life? He damned well
did
. She had no fears of the remoteness. What the heck was her job, anyway? Reading the news. What was the enormous satisfaction in that? She wanted a
life
. She wanted kids. She wanted to write. She wanted
him
. Surely he could see the sort of woman she was?

There were footsteps along the outside veranda. Heavy,
purposeful footsteps. How the heck had he got up there? She leapt up from the bed, ready for anything.

“So you want to play. Is that it?” He was framed by the open French windows. He looked extraordinarily masterful, all strength and dominant sexuality.

“How did you do that?” she asked with some wonder. He had a few green leaves caught in his thick crow-black hair.

“Good question.”

“You climbed a tree?” Her voice was shaking with excitement.

“How else would I do it?” His brilliant eyes ranged over her. Her lovely face was surrounded by her bright cascading hair. It swirled over and around her shoulders. There was a high flush in her cheeks from excited blood. “I thought I was right,” he said. “You’re crying.”

“So what?” She dashed the sparkle of tears away. “I’m good at it too when I get started. Sometimes tears are outside a woman’s control, didn’t you know?”

“And sometimes a man can hurt a woman when he doesn’t intend to.” Emotion deepened his voice. “Look at me, Amber.”

Look at him!
She was desperate to
run
to him but uncertainty continued to pin her in place.

“All right, if Mahomet won’t come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mahomet.”

“Oh, Cal what are we doing?” Even as she said it, her body was up and swaying towards him. She was in a high state of arousal. Her sensitive nipples had already tightened into buds that desperately needed the touch of Cal’s forefinger and callused thumb.

“Nothing as yet,” he gritted, hauling her into his arms. “Just let yourself go. All you have to do is hold onto me.”

His dark head blocked out the overhead light. She breathed in his warm breath. “But Cal, I need to know—”

He cut her off. “Ask me afterwards. I know what you want.
I know what
I
want. Let our bodies do the talking for us.” He brought up his right hand, weaving his long fingers into the loose mass of her hair. “Open your mouth.”

Her mind went clear of everything but
want
. She could feel her limbs dissolving. Her body was as alight as if a fire blazed inside. She could have wept from the conflagration. She did in fact make a little sound that could have been interpreted as dissent, only Cal was having none of it. He lowered his mouth over her cushiony lips, kissing her so deeply, so voluptuously that her arms came around him, tightening, pulling him in to her as if she would never let him go.

Surely that settled everything, he thought, moving into a high state of elation. She tasted wonderful. Like peaches and sunshine. Their tongues were meeting, mating, in a sinuous love dance. He could feel her supple fingers begin to knead his back. She seemed desperate to touch not fabric but
skin
. He understood perfectly. He had only to release a zipper to have her satiny dress slip from her body and pool at their feet. His hands moved compulsively to the undercurves of her beautiful breasts, taking their weight, his fingertips centring on the rose-coloured nipples. He could see the agitated flutter of her eyelids. He already knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, so it would be naked flesh he would find beneath his hand.

Once he fell to kissing and caressing her he couldn’t stop. But neither was she stopping him. She was giving him everything he so desperately desired. It was all out in the open. The passion they shared for one another couldn’t be denied. Something this powerful demanded trust. He was ready to embrace it. There was wisdom in listening to her…

Gradually their lovemaking escalated to a pitch where it was hard to tell what was teasing and what torture. Still holding her, he stripped back the quilted silk coverlet of the bed, urged on by the soft little mewing sounds she was making.

“I love you,” she cried frantically. She couldn’t hold it in. Her whole body was vibrating with it.

He all but tossed her onto the bed in his urgency. “Yes, I know.” He began to strip his splendid body naked, the lamplight gilding his skin.

“You
know
?” She half rose up from the bed, then fell back again, transfigured by his words.

“Of course I know,” he said in a voice pent-up with emotion. “I think we’ve pretty well cleared that small point up.”

“Then I’m waiting to hear you tell me you love me.” Ecstatically she threw her arms back over her head, inviting the adoration that was emblazoned on his dynamic face.

“I plan to.” He half loomed over her, all strength and sinew and rippling muscle. “But it’s going to take hours—” long kisses “—and hours…”

Rapture shone from her face, resounded in her soul. “So you don’t want me to go away?”

His green eyes were impossibly brilliant. “There’s one thing I haven’t told you yet, my beautiful Amber. You want me to say it, right?”

She pulled him down bedside her, spooning her body into his, welcoming his powerful arousal. “I’m listening.”

“I want to tell you something I haven’t told another soul.” He gathered her even closer, binding her to him as if by invisible chains.

“Yes?” she whispered, shaking with excitement, her thighs already moving apart.

“I’m ready to reach out. It was you who worked that miracle. I see a woman so beautiful, so strong, so full of character, I worship at her feet. I see a woman I will love for as long as I live. I see a woman I can trust. I love you, Amber. I adore you. I’m not letting you get away. I’m going to keep you for ever and ever.”

Saying it, he reached down to capture her yearning mouth.

And so it turned out. A lifetime of sharing, fiery little clashes, passionate making up, the maintaining of a dynasty. Three children in total. A boy and girl of their own. Steven first, then Stephanie named in honour of their grandmother, who often came to visit. Their cousin, Marcus, more a big brother than a cousin, was raised as part of this loving brood. Janis MacFarlane never remarried but she did reach dizzy heights in the world of finance. She became CEO of a merchant bank, which gave her absolute fulfilment. Eliot MacFarlane eventually found true love. He married his son’s former nanny, Martha Fenton, a woman as gentle and loving as his first wife, Caro. Amber wrote her books to critical acclaim.

It was a great life. A total life. A life to shout about!

ISBN: 978-1-4268-3799-9

CATTLE BARON: NANNY NEEDED

First North American Publication 2009.

Copyright © 2009 by Margaret Way Pty., Ltd.

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