Bella's Run (18 page)

It had to be him.

The stacks grumbled to a halt, somewhere near the cattle yards over to her left, so she swung around trying to pinpoint the LandCruiser’s final place of rest. As her eyes raked across the undulating grassy paddock, she eventually spotted the bug deflector emblazoned with ‘Tearin’ Down the Mountain’ reflected by the lights set up on the back of the makeshift stage.

Macca exited the driver’s side of the ute, pulling his huge black, high-topped Akubra down onto his tousled head as he went. But she was more interested in seeing if there was a passenger. Craning her neck, she saw there was.

He revealed himself more slowly, a large cream Akubra already sitting snugly on his head. He was smaller in height than Macca but as broad across the shoulders. Bella knew she would recognise this man in her sleep.

Her dreams were full of him. Her whole being soaked in his scent.

Flashes of another night in faraway outback Queensland flitted before her eyes and red-hot heat slowly started to consume her body. She saw his far-seeing gaze sweep across the paddock, and she knew with certainty when his eyes alighted on her and stayed fixed. Even standing some hundred metres apart, she knew that he knew too. They would end up together in one swag tonight.

A dance as old as time, started in earnest six weeks before, was mid-step – and the outcome was as certain as tomorrow’s dawn.

They would be together, as one, finally tonight.

Her mind knew it as well as her body; a body already yearning for his embrace, his touch, his sweet kiss. She moved towards him intent to savour it all, eager to start that final waltz, to consummate what had started but not ended at a Queensland rodeo in the far, dusty north.

She didn’t see the sprawled, dozing body of Patty . . . and tripped arse over tit into a cast-iron bath full of water and empty beer cans.

Chapter 17

‘The wet T-shirt competition is scheduled for tomorrow, cowgirl.’

Bella could hear Will’s muffled voice through the gallons of water pouring off her head. The water was warm from the day’s heat, but the breeze wafting around her was cold, making her nipples snap to attention. Or was it the voice causing that? She should be resigned now to the fact she was just supposed to spend the night wet.

‘Jeez, Bella, did you have to wake me up?’ Sitting beside the tub, Patty was soaked, hit by the wave of water erupting from the bath as Bella fell in.

‘You could’ve found a better place to pass out, you stupid nong,’ Bella said as she clambered out of the tub.

‘Hey, wait on a minute,’ said Will. ‘I was just thinking of joining you in there, Hells Bells. Looked mighty comfortable, not to mention wet and wild.’

Patty whistled as she got to her feet. ‘Go, bro.’

Macca walked up beside Will. ‘What’s the joke?’ His eyes alighted on a dripping Bella. ‘Ah, Miss Vermaelon, bit late for a bath, isn’t it? Or are you getting in before the morning rush?’

Bella inhaled, counted to three, then spun on her heels and stormed off towards the beer tent.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Macca asked no-one in particular.

‘Where are you going?’ Will and Patty yelled together.

‘To get a bloody rum, beer, cruiser . . . anything to get away from you lot . . . and to find a flaming shirt that’s dry!’

‘Hang on, cowgirl, I’ll come and give you a hand.’ Will took off after her.

‘I guess that’s the last we’ll see of them tonight.’ Patty turned to Macca.

‘How’s that? She looks ready to kill someone, not get laid.’

Patty leaned into the big man beside her, put her tanned and freckled arm inside his own and gave him a pitying smile. ‘You boys really don’t get it, do you?’

Will stood beside Bella, surveying the scene before them. ‘My swag’s that way. I threw it out of Macca’s ute on our way over; it’s there under those gum trees.’

Bella didn’t reply. She was cold and probably still drunk. Judging by the pick-up of the wind and the increased lightning on the hills, the cool change was about to hit. She just wanted her bed. Flickering small lights covered the valley floor guiding the way to the hundreds of tents, utes, horse floats and trucks parked in camps around the plain. The problem was that every light looked the same, and Bella couldn’t find Patty’s fire-engine-red ute, which contained her swag, her doona and a nice warm, dry, fluffy flannelette shirt. She knew because she’d looked everywhere, Will following along behind.

Was this some sort of sign? Her sense of direction was usually impeccable; her sense of humour was usually impossible to smother – but now she was disorientated, pissed and disgruntled. The attempted rape by that wanker had unsettled her more than she had let on to Patty. And now there was
this
man at her side. She threw him a sideways glare. Uncharitable, she knew.

She’d been so looking forward to seeing him again; the man in her dreams these past few weeks to finally materialise into hunky, male flesh. But now it had happened, a multitude of feelings she hadn’t anticipated flooded her mind.

This was a man who was her best mate’s brother; a man who’d known her since she was in nappies.

This wasn’t going to be a one-night stand followed by a sunrise bolt into the bush. The feelings this man drew from inside her were intense. Complex even. Did she want this so early in her life? Did she want to dive head-first into a relationship that could lead to marriage, kids and slippers by the fire?

But . . .

She couldn’t hold back the feelings swamping her. She couldn’t deny her heart, which was full to the brim with Will’s scent, his touch and a more-than-was-decent amount of lust. It felt so right.

And she couldn’t find that bloody ute, no matter how hard she tried.

Looking up into the dark eyes staring down at her, she heard thunder rumble out to the west. She felt the squall of wind arrive with the change. Her spirit slammed its virtual cards of chance on the table; the house full of hearts won the game. Her hand placed itself in Will’s warm and comforting clasp, pure instinct dictating her moves. As a bolt of lightning cracked hard above their heads, she looked down at their hands snug together in an intimate hold and wondered just how her body knew.

Will was burning. He was so hot for this woman it was a wonder he didn’t internally combust. The touch of her hand in his, finally. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He didn’t give Bella a chance to change her mind. Gathering her to him, he took off towards the trees where he’d left his swag. It was going to rain like hell in a minute, and he wanted to get them both under some sort of shelter, before he ravished her.

Half-carrying her across the rough ground to the gum trees, he snagged the bed roll and then kept walking.

‘Where are we going, Will?’ Bella stumbled, trying to keep up.

‘Over towards the old homestead. There’s a humpy we can shelter in out the back. It’s going to piss down with rain in a minute.’

Bella tried to suppress a shudder at Will’s mention of the site where she was nearly raped. He’d said a humpy out the back, not the homestead, she reassured herself.

They came up on the humpy from behind, so Bella was near the doorway before she knew she’d even arrived. Lightning strikes cracked in the hills all around, and the thunder had gone from a low rumble to an all-out crash. Will swung her into his arms and she forgot about Eddie Murray and the storm raging all around. She only had room for one tempest in her heart.

Will slammed his woman hard against his body, enclosing her in strong arms and shutting out all else but him. Her body moulded into his like it was cast only to fit his shape. Hip to hip, breast to breast, mouth to mouth. As the summer storm sent its load of much-needed rain down onto the Nunkeri Plains, Will felt full to the brim with all-consuming passion and love.

He slipped his hands under her oilskin vest, rummaging under her wet singlet until he clasped the giving, warm flesh of the woman who’d been in his heart and mind since Gundolin. His hands moved slowly up the sides of her body, slippery smooth in the rain, relishing the feel of her shivers as she responded to his touch.

He couldn’t contain himself.

Ripping at the press-studs of her vest, he wrenched it from her body in one tug. She raised her arms so he could drag her wet singlet over her head, and with a snap her red bra followed, swirling on the wind. And then he stepped back and drank in the sight he had dreamed of. Isabella Vermaelon unwrapped. For him. Only for him. He wanted to claim this woman as his own. Forever.

Reaching for those creamy, succulent breasts, he touched his mouth to her firm nipples, sending his tongue on a voyage. As his groin throbbed and strained against the restriction of his jeans, it took all his self-control to taste rather than claim, to seek rather than find. Then she moved, whimpering, spreading her legs, allowing him to press his erection hard against the core of her being.

Bella couldn’t contain her shivers. She wasn’t cold. Oh no. She was in meltdown for this man. As Will had stood back looking at her like she was a Christmas present from God, it made her feel like the most gorgeous woman in the world, sexy, empowered, alive and adored.

As his hands had moved forward and his head followed, her breasts had sprung to meet his touch. The warmth of his breath soft against her skin, the slither of his velvet tongue, followed by the gentle lapping and suckling of her nipples caused her knees to weaken as a torrent of pleasure flooded her body and mind.

Now she knew what had been missing from the two sexual encounters of the past, why she’d walked away from those one-night stands with an empty heart. Will was different. Her body melted into submission, following the hard planes of the man who held her in his arms.

She wanted him. Inside her. Now.

Will’s hands moved further south. Tantalising, teasing, drawing it out. She closed her eyes and drank in his touch. Ripping at her own fly, she sent her hands into battle with his. Will firmly pushed her fingers away and then slowly, bit by bit, eased the zipper, gently pulling her Wranglers down over her hips, nuzzling her belly and then further down. He tugged the suffocating jeans from her body until she was free. He stepped back, leaving her bereft. Eyes snapping open, Bella cried out.

Will was tugging at his own shirt, pulling it over his head.

He was beautiful. She moved forward instinctively, nuzzling his chest, sending feather-light kisses down, and down, glorying in her own nakedness as she went. Loving the pleasure her womanhood was giving him, seducing with her lips, the tickle of her breasts and hair, the need to devour driving her desire.

She tugged at his leather belt and pulled it free. Snagging his jeans down over his hips, she smiled at what was revealed. Nuzzled at what had lain hidden.

Too quickly Will pulled her to her feet. With great tenderness, his hands brought her face up to meet his. His whisper floated between them, on the wind, on the rain, sweet against her lips. ‘I won’t be able to hold on, if you do that, cowgirl.’

Bella smiled into his deep gaze and was then swept away, the tides of passion urging them both on. Sweeping rain poured down from overhead. Reckless and wild, they pushed each other to the brink, until Will leaned back against the lean-to wall and picked her up, cupping her bottom in his workroughened hands, drawing her in and over him. Bella wiggled and snuggled until she felt him move hard and deep inside her. She clamped her muscles around him, and started to ride him up and down. Her breasts moved fluidly across their rain-slicked bodies as she thrust herself onto him, driving him insane. He lost any control he had left. Slamming his body up into hers, he met her stroke for stroke until they both tipped over the edge. Together they exploded.