A Kiss to Seal the Deal (5 page)

‘Bingo. If they sense the vulnerability, they'll go for the jugular.'

‘You're trusting me not to tell them?'

His regard was steady but tainted with a hint of confusion, as if it hadn't occurred to him until that very second what he
was trusting her with. ‘You don't strike me as someone to play games.'

‘Unlike you, you mean?'

‘Very unlike me. We couldn't be more different, Kate.'

She shook her head. ‘Crazy world you live in.'

‘It's human nature, Kate. If they know how much I need to sell, the price will drop.'

‘I wouldn't have thought you needed the money.'

‘This isn't about the money. This is my family's farm. It's about dignity. The Tulloquay name. Keeping the farm intact. Making sure the person that buys it values it.'

Conservation restrictions would reduce the size of the land-holding and diminish the forward-investment value. Who would want a coastal farm with no usable coastal strip? Apart from her, that was. Without the valuable coastal kilometres, the remaining land would most likely get carved up for paddocks for adjoining farms.

He wanted Tulloquay to stay a farm, no matter who ran it, even if he didn't want the property for himself. Leo McMurtrie would have approved of that part, at least.

‘Maybe I could help you? As a thank you for the lab space and room.'

His sceptical expression shouldn't have surprised her. ‘You know about farming?'

‘My father was the town doctor but we lived on my mum's dairy farm. I remember the seasonal rotations, the basic preventative care for the stock.'

‘You barely have time for your own work.'

‘I'm not proposing I do it all; you're a big boy. I'll just give you some pointers. The rest is up to you and the internet if you're so determined on the smoke and mirrors.'

It was his turn to frown. ‘Why would you help me? You think I'm a jerk.'

Ass, actually.
Kate held his gaze against the flush she could feel rising. ‘It's in my best interests to keep you amenable. And
your father gave me two years of access to the Atlas colony, which I consider priceless. I owe it to him to help you.' She glanced around. ‘Plus, I've grown fond of these sheep and don't want to see them starve.'

‘Have they starved yet?'

Her laugh was gentle. ‘No. But they're going to need drenching soon. Have you got that one covered?'

He tipped his head back as he realised he hadn't. ‘How do I know you won't sabotage me?'

Oh, Grant. Is that really the world you live in?

‘You don't,' she sighed. ‘You'll just have to trust me.'

Intense eyes blazed into hers as his mind worked with that concept. He had a lot to lose if she betrayed him. Kate fought the tremor that fluttered up her spine and forced her body to remember that this was the man that stood between her and her project. Possibly between the seals and their survival.

There could be no flutters. And if she had to hold her breath then it would be awaiting the outcome of his decision, not waiting to see if he trusted her.

‘Room and lab space in return for some farming advice.
Confidential.
'

She rolled her eyes. ‘If you think it's necessary.'

‘It's necessary.' His eyes grew serious. ‘You specialise in seal vomit, I specialise in human nature.'

‘Interesting analogy.' Kate took a deep breath. ‘But you have yourself a deal. On one condition.' His left eye twitched and its brow lifted. Did no-one challenge him in his world? ‘The AC-DC stays below eighty decibels.'

In the split second before he remembered who he was and who he was with, Grant gifted her with the most spectacular of smiles. She saw more perfect, pearly teeth in that brief moment than she'd seen the whole time she'd known him. A throaty chuckle escaped, and his green eyes creased and reached out and whomped Kate clean in the solar plexus. She couldn't even suck in a shallow breath, let alone a deep one.

Just when she'd wondered if he couldn't do more than twist those serious lips.

But as quickly as the smile came it died, and Grant dropped his head so that the sparkling eyes were lost in the shadow cast by his akubra hat. Kate felt the temperature drop around them. As if to punish himself—or maybe her—for the smile, he gravely thrust out his hand toward her and barked a curt, ‘Deal.'

Goose bumps prickled all over her skin as she slid her chilled hand into his furnace-warm, Goliath one. It swallowed hers completely and Kate had a moment of unease; the image aptly represented their parts in this situation.

He might tolerate her presence, he might humour her research, he might even help her in ways that didn't hinder him. But ultimately Grant McMurtrie held all the power here.

For now.

Her mind went to the nearly finished report for the Conservation Commission, sitting in the back seat of her ute. She straightened her spine and closed her fingers defiantly tighter on his. ‘I'll move in tonight.'

‘Y
OU
do realise you smell appalling?' Grant scrunched his nose.

Her grin was way too sexy to be good for him. After only a few days, Kate's presence felt as ingrained in the house as his father's tobacco.

‘Occupational hazard. The smellier we are, the better the seals like us.'

His nostrils flared. ‘Then they must be ready to adopt you as one of their own today.'

The grin burbled over into a full laugh and those dimples flashed enticingly beneath a layer of dirt and muck. His gut kicked over, and not from the smell. That was happening way too often. He swallowed past the tight ball.

‘We had a good day today, got a heap done. Enough that I can spend all of tomorrow setting up the lab.'

An overflowing carful of her gear had been dropped off by two of her team earlier in the day. It sat intriguingly on the verandah now. As though realising that sharing her joy about having made good progress was not entirely appropriate, two frown lines formed between her brows. The dimples flattened out.

‘I'll go take a shower and leave my work clothes in the lab,' she said. ‘Hopefully that'll keep it contained.'

The lab formerly known as the garage.

He'd thought about making it a store room, but then realised
he wouldn't be able to go in and out of there for stuff, so he'd left it empty. Better a science lab than empty as a tomb—although, the latter was more appropriate. Would Kate freak out if she knew? Part of him thought no—she was a scientist and used to much more grisly things than that—but part of him remembered that she'd been fond of Leo.

‘How often did you see my father?' he asked a little later, when she was back to smelling like a clean, natural woman. She was trucking things from the verandah around to the double-doors of the garage. He lumped one of the bigger boxes as he followed her.

Kate paused and thought about it. ‘Maybe three times a week?'

For two years. That was a lot—compared to him. Yet she could still whack on the pressure when she had to. ‘Must have been tough while he was against your project.'

Kate smiled, and he realised how much he waited for those peek-a-boo dimples to show up. How he lightened just for seeing them.

‘He was no picnic even after he came round.'

I'll bet.
‘Came round?'

‘Reconciled himself,' Kate corrected.

Grant's feet locked up at the roll-door to the garage. No way he was going a step further into that space. ‘To giving up his land?'

Kate dropped her box and straightened, frowning. ‘To giving up his dogged stance. I think he was just being belligerent out of habit toward the end there.'

Grant snorted. ‘He always was contrary.'

She thought about that. ‘No, I think he was lonely. Dragging out the negotiations gave him regular contact.'

Pain sliced unexpectedly low in his gut. He shot up straight.

‘I'm sorry,' Kate rushed to make good. ‘That's none of my business.'

‘My father didn't really
do
lonely, Kate,' he said, lowering his voice, critically aware of their location. Leo McMurtrie had liked nothing better than to be alone with his thoughts when Grant was a boy, sitting out high on a bluff somewhere. Leaving his son to find his own amusement.

‘I know he filled his spare time with committees and doing odd jobs for friends,' she said. ‘But I think you can be busy and still lonely.'

‘Speaking from experience, Kate?' Her eyes rounded and darkened with pain, then flicked away carefully. Grant gave himself the fastest of inner lectures.

She rushed on. ‘Just as some people can be bored but think they're content.'

Was that a dig at him? No, she couldn't know… ‘Bored is not a phrase I associate with Dad, either.'

‘No.' Did that gentle smile mean she forgave him his snappy response? ‘No shortage of tasks when you're running a farm single-handed.'

Grant winced. Everywhere he turned there were reminders of the future that his father had wanted for him. He should have been here with his dad, running the farm. Maybe then he could have headed Kate's research off before it had even started. Maybe then there would have been no question of the surety of their property. Maybe then his dad would still be alive.

And maybe he'd be arguing loudly with an impossible man right now instead of talking quietly with a woman who was intriguing the hell out of him.

They added two more loads of gear to the pile at the roller-door. Grant knew the moment was coming when he'd need to press the remote and open it. There was nothing in there now but dust and storage boxes. But still his pulse began to hammer.

Kate turned to him. ‘Could I ask…?'

His heart squeezed painfully.
No, don't ask. Don't make me say no.

She nodded towards the garage. ‘Just some of the bigger pieces?'

An icy sweat broke out along his spine. He called on every boardroom tactic in his arsenal to keep it from showing on his face, and then he really scraped the barrel and called on desperate humour.

Not his strong suit.

‘What happened to your fiery independence
Ms
Dickson? Does it only last until there's heavy lifting to be done?'

He saw the impact of his words in the dimming of her eyes, in the stiffness of her shoulders. He kicked himself, while at the same time acknowledging that his sarcasm was still better than what he wanted to do: turn and sprint for the hills.

It was stupid not to have anticipated this moment. He should have left her to her unpacking and made himself scarce instead of hanging around like a blowfly waiting for her to smile again. Now he either had to forever position himself as a jerk in her mind or walk into the room he'd found his father in.

‘Sorry,' she said, clipped, frosty and calm. ‘You must have things to do. I'll be fine.'

He knew that. If he hadn't been here, she would have managed. All she had to do was take a few things out of the heaviest boxes. She didn't actually need the help. Whether she knew it or not, she'd been making overtures of friendship since she'd walked in his front door with her paltry belongings two nights ago.

And he'd just thrown it back in her face.

Suck it up, kid.
The voice in his imagination was a hybrid of his father's and his own.

‘Kate, wait.' He stopped her as she would have turned completely away. ‘That was a bad joke. I'm sorry.'

‘No.' She shook his hand free, her eyes low. ‘You've been more than generous with your offer of lab space and a room. I don't want to take advantage any more than—'

Grant silenced her by bending and intentionally taking the
biggest of the equipment boxes. ‘Can you get the door?' While he had an armful of box, he couldn't operate the remote; something told him that was a button-press he simply could not make.

Even if Kate was with him.

That thought brought his head up sharply. Since when had Grant ‘the Closer' McMurtrie needeed someone to hold his hand? Since never. But, as he watched Kate's delicate index-finger activate the remote control and that enormous door began to rumble upwards, he'd never in his life been so grateful for the presence of another human being.

With no chance of stopping himself, he moved one step closer to Kate. Sweat broke out across his top lip.

‘Oh, it's fabulous!' She swept in ahead of him, into the large, open space. His heart pounded against his ribs and he forced his feet into action. Alan had rallied some volunteers to tow his father's car away and help clean the garage out after his death. Only the mayor had known the significance of what they were doing. The resulting space was clean, empty and entirely innocent of the terrible thing that had happened here. The garage was as much a victim of his father's decision as all of them.

It was due a reinvention.

‘Will this do?' Only those who knew him best would spot the slight break in his voice.

‘Do? It's perfect. It's fully plumbed.' Kate moved around the large space, checking out the features. ‘It has a fridge.'

‘Dad's old beer-fridge.' Beer and, for some reason, bowls of the most disgusting liquid covered in damp tea-towels and foaming away beneath a pancake layer of thick fungi. ‘I think Dad was working on his own laboratory experiment in here.'

At Kate's quizzical look, he explained what he had found. Not when or why, but what.

Her face softened. ‘Kombucha tea. I'm glad he finally gave it a try. I put him onto it.'

‘What tea?'

‘Kombucha. It's a fungus. It grows on the top and the tea below ferments and forms a naturopathic cider. It's good for you.'

‘I can't imagine how. It looked and smelled disgusting. I imagine the only thing it was good for was the compost heap.'

Why the hell had a grumpy, acerbic old farmer been talking herbal recipes with a gorgeous greenie? How much had the man changed in twenty years? And what kind of a relationship had he had with Kate Dickson? Every conversation Grant had with her led him to imagine the two of them had been more than just business colleagues.

Friends.

Kate's enthusiasm for her new lab chased more of the shadows away from this place; she was just so excited. But still she turned to him, eager to give him a last chance, presumably.

‘You're sure you don't want to use this for your Jeep?'

Not in a million years.
‘It's all yours. Just don't blow anything up.'

‘I think you're over-imagining what kind of work we do here. It's mostly microscopes and sifting.'

Ah, yes—the vomit.
Charming.

Wide brown eyes turned to him. ‘You're welcome to come in and have a look any time you want.'

He crunched his nose as she turned back to the mountainous boxes. ‘Don't be offended if I pass.' For more reasons than one. He couldn't imagine himself ever getting comfortable in here.

Kate smiled as she hauled more boxes into the lab.

This really was perfect. She couldn't imagine why Grant wouldn't want to keep his precious car in here, but his loss was her gain. She'd downplayed the difference having an on-site lab would make to her program, because he was still so sensitive to their progress and because his offer really was a gift from the research gods. The truth was it would make an enormous
difference to their ability to process samples and with the hours saved she could dedicate some time to searching up the coast for the seals' primary breeding-site.

All she needed was a boat. And someone to sail it.

How hard could that be to find in a fishing community? First chance she got, she'd head into town and see who she could rustle up. Things were beginning to go her way again. Kate could feel rightness returning to the world.

‘So when do farming lessons begin?'

His voice was still tight but his body looked more relaxed than when he'd first entered. You'd have thought he was being escorted to the gallows. She'd given him one last chance to opt out if he was that reluctant to have her lab in his house—or maybe to help her project out, after all—but he hadn't taken it. And, although he'd been painful about helping her move her stuff in, he was certainly applying himself and all those compounding muscles admirably to the task. Super-quick, in fact. Like he couldn't wait to get out of here.

Kate sighed. It would be easy to trust him and believe that he had the Atlas colony's interests at heart; that he was trying to offer a compromise that meant they both got what they needed. But at the end of the day that was navïely futile. No way could they
both
walk away from this situation equally happy. Grant was going through the motions out of courtesy, but everything in his manner said he couldn't wait to be out of here. After the rocky start they'd had, courtesy was something, but just because she was starting to like the man didn't mean it was mutual.

This was Leo all over again. Look how long it had taken him to warm to her—although once he had it had almost been like becoming family. When the McMurtrie men bonded, they really bonded.

Which was not something she should be thinking in Grant McMurtrie's presence. Not when he stood between her and her nicely ordered world, her nicely ordered future.

So when
should
farming lessons begin—if at all?

‘Without the travelling time I should have a few hours each evening,' she said carefully. Dinner. Conversation. The intricacies of sheep castration. Nice and neutral. ‘Could that work for you?'

‘Night school…' Jade eyes considered her. ‘I like it. It'll fill those long evenings.'

Right.
Another subtle reminder that this was business to him. As it should be to her.

‘Would you mind if we postponed Friday night's tutorials? I was hoping to go into Castleridge.'

His reply was immediate. ‘Into town? Sure. I'll come in with you.'

That brought her head around. ‘Why?'

Charming lines furrowed his brow. ‘Uh…'

Kate smiled. ‘Getting used to the company, Grant?'

He slid one last box onto the work bench. ‘Maybe I'm looking for a better class of company.'

She would have been offended if she'd thought for a moment that was true. While she might not be the best reader of men on the planet, she did know sharp conversation when she found it, and her discussions with Grant so far had been diverse and free-flowing. Almost scintillating. Especially when you threw in the healthy dose of chemistry that zinged around between the words.

In between remembering they were on opposite sides of this awkward situation.

Her smile widened into a full tease. ‘Well, then, perhaps we'll both get lucky in that regard.'

He muttered something she couldn't hear but then decided she didn't want to. She'd kid herself a little longer that there was a mini-friendship brewing here; she wouldn't go bursting her own bubbles just yet. Life had a way of doing that for her—with terminal impact.