An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden (13 page)

She flushed. “We've had such a lovely night. Don't let's spoil it.” She couldn't bear that, not when she was experiencing such peace it was like a dream.

“How are those heels taking the walk?” he asked, immediately reacting to her tone and changing subjects.

“Fine. I'm used to them.”

Being with him in this glorious star-filled night was rapture. She hadn't needed three glasses of beautiful white wine over dinner to intoxicate her blood. She was travelling on a magic carpet. Just the two of them in the quiet tree-shrouded street with the heavens over them ablaze.

He paused at her front gate. “I'll see you in.”

She didn't say no. No matter how far she tried to remove herself from thoughts of Colin there was always the threat of his materialising out of the darkness one day.

“Would you like to come in for a moment?” she found herself murmuring. “I left Freddy in his basket.”

“Just for a moment.” He felt a sudden sharp ache for his own aloneness. “I'll check the house for you.”

“Why? What do you think you'll discover?”

“What you're so damned worried about.” He took the key out of her nerveless hand, inserted it in the lock and opened the cottage door. He found the switch, flooding the hallways with soft golden light. As he turned his head, he registered her expression.

She stood there, staring back at him, lips parted. Petite, delicate in her pink dress, her dark gleaming hair framing her
face. He wanted to take that lovely face into his hands. He wanted to kiss the soft, tender curves of her mouth. He wanted to chase the shadows from her jewelled eyes.

He knew he only had to touch her and the want would turn into a burning fever. Her pretty dress clung to her slender body, the low V neckline, delicately ruffled, drawing his eyes to the exquisite contours of her breasts. For an instant he allowed himself to see her arched against him. He knew there was passion in her. He had heard it in her music.

“Evan?” She too was conscious they were poised on a knife-edge.

“Things to do.” He moved abruptly into the parlour, turning on the lights. At first he didn't notice the kitten staring up at him. It was so small, so black, a bundle of fur almost undetectable except for the brilliant colour of its eyes. “Freddy's awake,” he called over his shoulder. “Probably wants some milk and some company.”

“Oh, sweetheart!” Laura followed Evan into the room, bending to pick up her kitten. “I bet you've been missing me.”

Evan didn't speak, but watched them for a moment. He'd known a number of beautiful women in his life. He'd imagined himself in love with the traitor Monika. But this young woman had become painfully important to him in much too short a space of time. In a sense it was difficult to understand how profoundly she'd affected him. She was beautiful, certainly, and intelligent, gifted. Her laughter was lovely. Her smile. Was it her delicate femininity that made him think she needed protection? If she had a problem with her doctor lover, as she must have to flee him, she was clearly unwilling to give up the relationship.

He knew from the first moment he saw her she was going to affect his life. What made him think it would be for the good? If he allowed himself to fall in love with her—hell, he
was
in love with her—she could only cause him pain. Surely he'd had enough experience of pain to guard himself from it? And living his kind of life—if he returned to it—he had to keep himself free.

Nonetheless, he allowed himself to be beguiled by the sight of young woman and kitten. She could have posed for one of those enchantingly sentimental Victorian paintings. Yet she was a woman of mystery. This whole damned thing with her doctor lover was baffling. Unresolved. Obviously the man saw her as a trophy, an appendage. The thought upset him.

He heard her cooing to her bundle of fluff as it tenderly nuzzled her neck before she carried the kitten into the kitchen—no doubt for a warm drink of milk. It had grown in a matter of days. Clearly she loved it. For such a small gesture on his part it gave him immense pleasure.

The cottage was empty, so he took a minute to check the detached laundry. Really, she couldn't be safer in this town. There was no crime. Nothing beyond kids getting up to pranks or the occasional teenager somehow getting hold of enough alcohol to make them drunk. They certainly wouldn't be served at the pub, where every last kid was known right down to the year of birth. He glanced around the laundry, then walked the short distance to the back door. He didn't know if she'd unlocked it but tapped on it all the same.

“Evan?”

Even through the solid timber door he could hear the quaver in her voice.

“Yes. Hope I didn't frighten you?” he called. What the hell was this? God, he was six-four and he had a black belt. He'd be good at protecting her from whatever it was that made her feel especially vulnerable.

When he stepped inside the cottage she was shaking. “I was checking the laundry,” he explained, staring down at her. “I thought you'd realize I'd check around.”

“Of course.” She turned away, but not before he saw her face.

Perturbed, he turned her around again, his hands firm on her shoulders. “Laura, what is this? You think I don't know fear when I see it? I've witnessed it many times in life. If you feel like this, you must tell someone. Tell
me.
Who's going to come to your door?”

“I'm so sorry, Evan. I'm just a nervous woman,” she
apologized. “Some women are. We're not all brave, especially when someone knows you're on your own.” She was horrified that she continually failed the test to confide in him when she kept promising herself she would.

“You're not on your own, Laura,” he protested. “Is this man of yours so damn bad you're frightened he's going to come after you? What then? He can't force you to do anything you don't want. Has he some hold over you? Is he somehow blackmailing you? Has he made you do things you didn't like? What is it? Has he been making threats? Saying he'll attempt suicide if you leave him? Is he saying any goddamn thing to hold onto you?” he asked tautly.

She bit back a moan. Colin had done all those things. “All this because you gave me a fright?”

“You don't dare tell me, do you?”

The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Those few moments of involuntary fright bore witness to the unhealed scars Colin had left on her. Her beautiful eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. There was such shame deep within her for the ugly secret she carried around with her. It hit at her soul and all but undermined her self-respect.

“Don't cry, Laura,” he begged. God help him she broke his heart.

“Oh, Evan!” She began to flail his chest helplessly.

“Come here to me.” She might have been a kitten in his arms, all softness and delicate bones.

The instant his arms closed around her she felt less frantic. Regaining a measure of control. This was Evan, not the monster she'd married. She pressed her body against his, feeding on his abundant strength. She loved the smell that came off his skin: like incense, warm, clean, male, already familiar to her as someone very dear. She had the sensation she was melting into him, hungry for the tenderness of the hand that stroked her. Such moments were idyllic. With Evan there would be no loss of control, no rush to violence.

“You're not going to go to sleep on me again, are you? This happens every time I hold you in my arms.” His voice
sounded indulgent, though a passionate desire for her was stirring his flesh.

“I may do,” she murmured, wanting these moments to last.

“You haven't been treated properly, have you, Laura?”

“
You
treat me properly, Evan.”

“You know I want to make love to you?”

“Yes.” She trembled, overcome by the desire that rose at his call.

“Can you handle it?” He tipped up her head, to hold her green gaze.

“I don't know that I'm any good at making love,” she confessed.

“Aren't you?” His voice was both tender. “You could have fooled me. You need to feel safe, Laura. That's all it is. You'll be safe with me. We'll go slowly. If you become frightened, we'll draw back. You're holding your breath. Let it go. I've kissed you before.”

“I loved it.”

“You'll have your chance to prove it.” He swung her up into his arms, carrying her through to the parlour, where he held her cradled on the sofa.

He was so much in love with this strange contradictory girl he felt the force of it rise like the great jet of a fountain. Nonetheless he began to kiss her, his passionate desire almost overcoming his promise to go slowly. She was afraid of hurt. He couldn't possibly risk hurting her with his vastly superior strength or the fiery energy that was in him.

Her mouth was so sweet, blissful, the velvet inside, her tongue. Her arousal was apparent. He could hear it in the soft little gathering cries that increased his own urgency.

He stroked the silky length of her arms, drew her up so she was even closer. Body to body. She clung to him, but he could sense a kind of conflict was happening inside her body, inside her head.

“Do you want me to stop?” He feared he was already too far along.

“No!” Her whisper was fervent. “It's not you, it's me. You're wonderful.”

“So are you. Surely you know that?”

How could she answer? Tell him how Colin had habitually demeaned her? “Make love to me, Evan.”

He felt his senses reel. “You know I might reach a point when I won't be able to stop? Even for you.” He had to warn her.

“You might discover you don't want me.” That was dredged up from the taunts of the past.

“That's not going to happen, Laura. Trust me.”

She sighed as if she were unburdening herself of all fears and anxieties. “All I want is for you to love me.”

Love her he did! He made her whole body bloom, her white skin turning roseate with the heat of her blood. She lay on her bed, her hair spread around her body, naked except for the cool white sheet, while Evan turned her to face him. He kissed her face, her ears, her throat and her breasts, moved his mouth over her stomach, moving lower and lower, very quiet about it, while her body clenched and unclenched as only rapture followed the thrilling trail of fire.

The most wonderful thing was happening to her. Up until then marital sex had been a nightmare. This flowering, this warm languor, was exquisite, though her breath came shorter and sharper as the life force flowed through her.

He was speaking very gently. She couldn't speak herself. She was lost in the multitude of sensations his mouth and hands were calling forth with absolute quiet mastery.

Starlight showered the room; little squares of radiant moonlight fell on the rug. She knew he was propped up on an elbow, looking down at her face. She couldn't see him now. Her eyes had closed tightly as the shimmering rapture mounted. She had to hold it in. Treasure it. She'd endured so much suffering.

He was tracing the contours of her breasts, his hands so strong yet so exquisitely tender as they circled towards the tightly furled nipple. She was blind. Blind to everything but pleasure. She had dreaded night-time, going to bed, the object
of Colin's sick obsession. She had never experienced anything remotely like this, her body shuddering not with pain but with a sensuality so voluptuous it was consuming her. There was no assault. This had nothing to do with bodily assault. This was the kind of lovemaking that approached pure magic.

“Laura?” He brushed his lips against hers. “Look at me.”

Even though she was drifting on a great wave of sexual excitement she heard his call. He kissed her naked shoulder, looked into her open eyes. “You're exquisite! So exquisite you move me to tears.”

Imagine that! He thought her exquisite! How glorious those words sounded after Colin's destructive names.

“You're ready for me, aren't you?”

Such tenderness she had never known.

Her breath exhaled on a “Yes!” She had discovered the purest kind of desire. Now all she needed to make it perfect was their union.

Slowly, slowly, he entered her, holding down all momentum. He felt the fluttering in her womb, then the strong contraction to enclose him. Agony for him and yet an extravagant radiating pleasure. He wanted desperately to be gentle with her, but he didn't know how to contain the deep driving male urge that might hurl him over the edge. Love was a flame!

He bore down, waited, heard her utter little moans he deduced as pleasure. The moans stretched out into a sob of wanting…wanting… He couldn't mistake it. He began his plunge into her lovely receptive body, exultant as she met him with the most ravishing desire of her own.

Instantly he was empowered. He held back no longer. And his last thought before passion controlled him was that he could never lose her. This woman held his heart in her hands.

T
HE
period before Sarah's wedding marked the happiest time of Laura's life. The enormous sense of guilt which she'd associated with sex—she could never have called it lovemaking with Colin—had totally disappeared. Evan had given her such reassurance, such confidence in her capacity to give and receive pleasure, that her emotional boundaries had run out to the horizons.

She wasn't a woman caged. She was free. She was able to enjoy life, to eat, to sleep, to resume the music that was in her blood. She was able to interact with all the new friends she was making. She could see people liked her from their smiling, welcoming faces.

That soul-destroying sense of fear and hopelessness she had endured living with Colin she'd pushed into some other place and shut the door. There were times when she had the occasional breakthrough—a kind of panic attack induced by some particularly bitter memory of her husband. But her new life at Koomera Crossing was beginning to take shape. She was in the process of becoming strong.

Several hours of the day she had taken to doing voluntary work at the Bush Hospital—something that gained her much gratitude from Sarah and the staff.

Funding for rural and bush hospitals wasn't high—Koomera Crossing Bush Hospital couldn't do without regular injections of money from the McQueens, and the town itself staged fundraisers to help out. Laura, financially secure, insisted on taking no payment herself.

When she wasn't doing clerical work, helping to clear the workload, she offered her services to the patients who had been admitted—reading aloud to them, helping them write letters, simply chatting, using her own gentle, very effective
brand of comfort which, had she known it, was winning her more friends.

Life went on. She became very much a part of the music society—an enriching experience for all. Soon she would be able to put a strategy in place to end her violent marriage.

She had made the most glorious, fulfilling connection with a good man. She was deeply in love with him. Even if their love affair was not fated to be permanent, Evan had changed her. He had made her see herself differently. She was valued and valuable; a better woman in every sense of the word.

Their relationship got better every day. Both of them had accepted their intimate commitment as lovers, and Laura derived an enormous sense of security out of their closeness. Lying together, limbs entwined, in the aftermath of love, she often felt herself on the brink of telling Evan of her horribly fresh past. How her husband had abused and terrified her. But the mere thought of destroying the happiness she and Evan had achieved together stopped her tongue.

She couldn't throw that away. Not yet. But she knew the day was fast coming when she could no longer evade the truth. It was crucial she tell him everything about the marriage she had allowed herself to be trapped in. It would be humiliating. No matter which way she looked at it, no matter the excuses she made for herself, she had lied to Evan.

But she wasn't the same person now as she had been then. Unquestionably she was stronger. Though the only way she could be totally sure was to confront Colin and survive his anger.

Some part of her lived in astonishment that he hadn't been able to trace her. She had communicated with her mother to let her now she was safe, and had discovered a tremendously angry and frustrated Colin had made the trip to New Zealand to find out what her mother knew. The meeting, with Colin's threatening demeanour for once out in the open, had upset her mother terribly. Craig, her mother's husband, had been forced to order Colin out of the house.

It was still better for her mother and Craig that they know
nothing of her whereabouts, lest Colin wreak his vengenance on them.

The front door chimes sounded through the little cottage she called home. She almost ran to the door, a spontaneous smile playing around her lips.

Evan stood outside, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans with a linen jacket on top to add a more formal touch. “Hi!” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Ready?”

They were off to a little ceremony to bring closure to what was possibly Koomera Crossing's biggest mystery. The interment of little Estelle Sinclair.

“More than ready,” she answered. “I'll just grab my handbag.”

“Tell me, what do you think about all this stunning development?” he asked as they drove away.

“Estelle's is an extraordinary story. I think we'll have to accept the fact Sarah is psychic.”

“She's certainly different. That Sinclair place is a thoroughly disturbing house. It has a definite aura. I often wondered why Sarah chose to live there when she returned to town. I know Kyall was very much against it, but she was adamant. You stayed there for a couple of days—anything that went bump in the night?”

“Could be, but I missed it.” Laura shook her head.

“Estelle's ghost has been seen on and off for the past hundred years.” He gave her a sceptical glance.

“Not by you?”

“I'm obviously too much the sceptic. Things have to be proved. The paranormal isn't exactly my area of expertise. In fact I'm dumbfounded by Sarah's story.”

“The girl's bones have been found and DNA-tested,” Laura pointed out. “The whole town of Koomera Crossing is turning out to see them interred. Hopefully it will bring closure to the town and to the Sinclair descendants.

“Sarah had told me her story. The house had been built in the late 1870s by a colonial architect named Robert Sinclair. His eldest daughter, Estelle, a pretty blonde girl of twelve, had simply vanished into thin air. A massive search
had failed to discover any trace of her. The broken-hearted family had packed up and returned to Adelaide; Estelle's fate had never been known until Sarah went to live in the house and her strange experiences began.”

“I never liked the idea of Sarah wandering around there,” Evan said. “But Sarah was born and bred in this town. She knew the local folklore better than most. The Sinclair homestead was always thought to be haunted.”

Laura looked out at the vividly coloured landscape. “It certainly sends off vibrations, I can't deny that. Sarah thinks she was
meant
to go there, even as she questioned her own motives for staying. On one occasion she told me she was standing on the verandah, waiting for Kyall to arrive, when her mind was flooded by images. She saw a girl drowning. She saw her long blonde hair. The waterhole and the boulders rising out of it. Most terrifying of all, she saw a man.

“She told me she felt incredibly frightened, as if she was being drawn into another reality. She could feel the nerve-jittering shock right through her body. She wanted to pull out of the images but they wouldn't let her go. Another time it was a dream so detailed that when she woke up she was able to identify the exact lagoon. When they were children she and Kyall used to ride all over the countryside exploring.”

“The whole thing is baffling,” Evan had to concede. “Slightly uncomfortable to most people, I suppose, though there's little doubt certain individuals have ‘powers' and others have paranormal experiences. The atmosphere surrounding the house was probably conducive to setting Sarah off.”

“She says she's a doctor, not a clairvoyant. She has no wish to be. What happened to her happened. There's no everyday explanation. Sarah convinced Kyall to have the waterhole searched. We all know the rest. Divers found the child's remains.”

“I would have thought the Sinclair descendants would have taken them back to Adelaide but obviously they've all agreed Estelle will be buried here at Koomera Crossing.”

Laura took a breath. “Sarah said she'd been raped and murdered.”

“Laura, we have no means of knowing that.” He tossed her a searching look. “It was a dream, after all.”

“A dream that turned up Estelle. The murderer went free, despite a thorough investigation.”

“I'm sure Sarah wouldn't have wanted to come face to face with him,” he said wryly.

“Except there's a twist. She saw his face, his features.”

“Time is fleeting, Laura,” he pointed out dryly. “Had this man lived, he'd be around one hundred and fifty.”

“All right, all right. It's an amazing story, all the same.”

Evan frowned suddenly. “I assume Sarah looked through all the old records?”

“I never asked.”

“Having taken it this far, perhaps Sarah should look into it further. The whole thing's so damned odd.”

Laura smiled. “I expect Sarah is fully occupied with her wedding. It's just over a week off.”

“A great day! I'm looking forward to it.”

“Everyone is.” Laura laughed. “She has her beautiful young daughter to attend her.”

Evan nodded. “A miracle in itself. Have you decided what you're going to wear?” He was seized by a vision of how she would look as a bride.

“I expect I'll have to wear something I've already got.”

“Why's that?” He studied her profile, as he did when she lay sleeping at night.

“I was a bit late to ask the town dressmaker—who's simply marvelous—I've seen her things—to run me up something,” she explained wryly.

“Let me see…I don't actually have anything in my wardrobe one could properly call wedding finery. Why don't we take a quick trip to Brisbane?” he suggested. “I could organise a charter flight to the nearest domestic airport. We'd have to stay a night, of course. Maybe two. What do you say?”

He glanced at her, thinking she'd be thrilled. Instead her lovely white skin had gone even whiter.

“What's the matter?” He knew his tone was taut but he
couldn't help it. He thought he had managed to seal off all the anxieties that swirled around her.

“Evan, it would cost too much money.” She tried to put him off. She dared not show herself anywhere near the State capital.

“I think I can afford it. What's upsetting you? Ah, let me guess. The dreaded doctor is in Brisbane?” He fought against his disappointment and anger. “Hell, it's taken me months to find that out.”

“I never said he was.” Sick panic ran down her spine.

“I'm afraid you say nothing about your background. You do realise even if your doctor is having difficulty tracing you I'd have no difficulty tracing him?”

“You wouldn't!” Her heart leapt to her throat.

“Why so shocked. I thought you realised ours is no casual affair. Not for me.”

“Evan, it's not casual for me either.” Her eyes clouded.

“No, but there are some issues to be worked out. Clearly your doctor friend is at the top of the list. Is he married? Are you his mistress? Has he put off divorcing his wife? Are you angry about it?”

She could hear the impatience and frustration in his voice. “Evan, I love being with you.”

“At the same time you're contemplating returning to this man. Oh, don't look out of the window. That's about the size of it.”

“I don't feel the same about him any longer,” she protested. “I want to be rid of him.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough to stare at her in consternation. “Heavens, Laura, you're talking like you're already married to the guy. I don't feel like battling a shadow. I think the two of us should confront this man. Obviously he's been able to dominate you.”

She bit her lip hard. Trying to rid herself of her fear of Colin was an excruciatingly difficult process. At his worst she was quite sure Colin could threaten her life. Perhaps threaten Evan's? She could be putting Evan in danger at this very moment.

“The painful fact is he did dominate my life, Evan, but that's all over. You can be absolutely sure I'll never go back to him. I don't want you to meet him either, but I think you will.” Her voice was full of trepidation.

“Good,” he said shortly. “Your doctor holds no fears for me. I'll make it my business to see he presents no threats to you. For your sake, I'm being as patient as I know how.”

“I'm so grateful for it.”

He loved her too much to continue a conversation that clearly upset her, no matter his frustration. “What about Sydney?” He returned to a much more pleasant subject. “Melbourne, if you prefer?”

“Are you doing this for you or me?”

“For both of us,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “It just occurred to me I'd like to help you pick out your dress.”

“What a wonderful idea—considering it's you I want to look beautiful for.” Her face lit to radiance.

“Then it's a date.” He'd come too far. Everything depended on keeping Laura safe.

 

During the ceremony for Estelle Sinclair many a towns-woman dabbed away tears, while the descendants of the Sinclair family standing staunchly together were visibly affected. This discovery of their young ancestor was more than any of them had ever dreamt of.

They had talked to Sarah about her experiences in the house built by Estelle's father. She had told them everything she could, meeting not with scepticism but with an almost religious acceptance that Estelle's spirit had reached out to her.

This had been a terrible tragedy in the history of the Sinclair family. They all agreed they had gained much comfort from the fact she'd finally been laid to rest.

 

Evan and Laura stayed in one of Sydney's finest hotels, with balconies looking out over the glorious blue expanse of the Harbour. Evan had booked them discreetly into separate but
adjoining rooms. Laura would talk about paying her share later. She didn't have a glimmering of knowledge about Evan's wealth, but gradually she had begun to see he had no worries whatever with money.

They had limited time, but they had already managed to tour the city and the famous Harbour. Not that Laura hadn't seen it all before, but the time she spent with Evan put her experiences on a different plane. Everything made such an impression on her it was almost as if she were reborn.