The Cattle King's Mistress (2 page)

His thick black hair was straight. His black brows were straight. And cutting straight across the room at her were laser-sharp blue eyes, the vivid intensity of their colour made all the more stunning by his darkly tanned skin. Miranda felt utterly pinned by them, unable to break their captivating power...until Elizabeth King spoke.

“Welcome to King’s Eden...”

Miranda jerked her head towards the distinctive, familiar voice. The woman who had hired her sat on an ornately carved armchair, its rich scarlet and gold silk upholstery forming a striking frame for her white hair and white pantsuit. And the beautiful pearls around her neck.

“It’s both a pleasure and a privilege to be here, Mrs King,” Miranda managed to reply with creditable aplomb. “Thank you for inviting me.”

The older woman was smiling, her dark eyes warm with some private satisfaction. She waved attention back to her son. “This is Nathan, who has the controlling hand on the station. Miranda Wade, Nathan, our new resort manager.”

He remained precisely where he was, sizing her up, silent, formidable, daunting, challenging. For a moment, Miranda remained pinned, but the long years of training for greeting people urged her forward. Taking the initiative always broke the ice. She had to associate with this man, when business required his co-operation. Some kind of reasonable footing with him had to be developed.

Yet all the stern reasoning in her mind had no strengthening effect on her legs. They were alarmingly shaky as she stepped forward to offer her hand to Nathan King. This was a man who would dominate everything he touched...and she was about to touch him.

Nathan
was stunned. He’d seen many beautiful women but none quite as striking as this one. From head to foot she was something else...built on a scale that accentuated every womanly asset. And she certainly had them all!

She almost matched Tommy in height, which had to put her close to six feet tall and she wasn’t wearing high heels. Her hair was an instant tactile temptation, a softly curved fall to her shoulders, gleaming with a fascinating blend of blonde shades from silver to strawberry.

The classical perfection of her face was made even more intriguing by the slight cleft at the centre of her chin line, and the long neck below it promised an alluring suppleness. Her honey-gold skin glowed—face, arms, legs—all bare, and her limbs were as perfectly proportioned as her face.

She wore a rather high-necked, sleeveless dress that skimmed her lushly curved figure, the skirt flaring to just above her knees, a modest dress but boldly coloured in an abstract floral pattern on black. Splotches of lemon, orange, lime green, turquoise, royal blue seemed to leap off the black background, a dazzling kaleidoscope of colour. On her feet were strappy lemon sandals.

A very confident woman, Nathan thought, prepared to stand out rather than blend in. A strong individual. Certainly no shy violet or clinging vine. A long dormant excitement began to stir in him. This might be a woman worth knowing...an experience worth having.

The visual pleasure of her was too enticing to give up. He stayed where he stood, letting her move forward to formalise his mother’s introduction. Lovely, almond-shaped, green eyes, as uniquely distinctive as the rest of her. Honey-brown lashes and brows. Was the hair-colour natural?

“I’m delighted to meet you, Mr King,” she said with cool deliberation as she held out her hand.

Establishing impersonal distance.

Nathan barely stopped himself from grinning at the implicit challenge as he gripped her hand, enfolding it in his own, liking the soft, silky warmth of it. His smile was controlled into a mere expression of friendly acknowledgement. Playing the stand-offish game suited him just as well, while he took her measure.

“Even the children on the station call me Nathan, so please feel comfortable with it,” he assured her. “And since the resort also operates on a first name basis, I trust I may call you Miranda.”

“Of course,” she answered smoothly, starting to extract her hand.

Nathan did not resist the movement, finding it interesting she felt the need to break the physical link with him so quickly. It wasn’t exactly a rude rejection of contact, more a discomfort with it. Did she sense what she was stirring in him? Was she stirred herself? Her eyes reflected no more than the obliging interest of an employee to an employer, not so much as a hint of speculation on a woman to man basis.

His mother’s words came back to him...
I
doubt Miranda Wade would be inclined to cling to any man’s hand.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, wondering if she was a raging feminist. “My mother’s having champagne...”

“A glass of water would be fine,” she quickly interposed.

Keeping a cool head, Nathan thought as he nodded and disconnected himself from her by turning to his brother. “A beer for you, Tommy?’’

“Thanks, Nathan,” came the ready agreement.

He left them to sort out seating while he got the drinks from the bar in the adjoining billiard room. Miranda Wade was not a woman to be rushed. That much was obvious. He had the impression there were many layers to her, not an easy woman to tag in any sense.

He wondered how Tommy was faring with her. His brother had spent most of the day in her company. Had he managed to draw any sparks of interest? Resolving to simply sit and watch the interplay between them, Nathan returned with the drinks, ironically amused at the way this meeting was turning out. His annoyance with his mother’s decision had winked out the moment Miranda Wade had appeared in person.

She’d chosen to sit in an armchair close to his mother, right across the room from where he’d been seated. Tommy bridged the gap, having dropped onto a sofa that could have invited sharing, but that option had not been taken up by the fair Miranda. She nodded to a drink coaster on the small table beside her as Nathan approached and gave him a flashing smile of acknowledgement when he set the glass down where she’d indicated.

“Thank you,” she said, breaking briefly from her conversation with his mother, then instantly resuming it.

Done with grace, but holding him at a very firm distance, Nathan observed. He didn’t linger, didn’t attempt to draw her attention. A two-year contract gave him plenty of time to make her acquaintance. He strolled over to Tommy and handed him the beer.

“Happy with the choice?” he asked quietly, watching for any reservation in his brother’s expressive eyes.

“Are you?’’ Tommy retorted, mischief dancing.

Nathan shrugged. “Your business, Tommy.”

“An asset, I think.” Definitely male appreciation in the gaze he slanted at Miranda. However his mouth made a wry little moue as he added, “Mind very focused on the job.”

“Glad to hear it,” Nathan murmured and moved back to his chair, content with the confirmation that his brother’s charm had failed to evoke the usual response.

This now promised to be a most interesting evening. Didn’t feminists preach wanting men, not needing them? Sexual freedom? Taking as they pleased? What if Miranda Wade wanted what he wanted?

Miranda was grateful the meal had been easy to eat— prawns cooked with coconut and served with a mango sauce, followed by barramundi, and now a melt-in-themouth passion-fruit mousse. Dining with the Kings was certainly a testing experience, but she thought she’d managed the evening reasonably well, given the unnerving presence of the man at the head of the table.

Nathan had barely said a word during the dinner conversation, but she was acutely aware of him listening to everything she said, the turn of his head towards her, the silent force of his concentrated attention. She sensed he was cataloguing her questions, her responses, her opinions, building up a picture of the kind of person she was while giving nothing of himself away.

The worst of it was, she kept remembering how his hand had felt, wrapped around hers. Maybe it was because he was the cattle King, but the impression he had left was one of branding her with his imprint. She wished he wasn’t quite so big, so overwhelmingly
male.
It made her ridiculously conscious of being female, disconcertingly so since not even Bobby Hewson had triggered such a disturbingly pervasive effect on her.

Fortunately, both Tommy, sitting across the table from her, and Elizabeth King at the foot of it, had been very relaxed in their manner towards her, friendly, helpful, informative. And the dining room itself was a fascinating distraction from the man who dominated too much of it.

All the furniture here was of beautiful, polished mahogany. China cabinets held a magnificent array of treasures. The paintings on the walls were of birds and executed in splendid detail. Everything looked in mint condition and Miranda wondered about the household staff. Dinner had been served by a middle-aged woman, introduced as Nancy, but there had to be several people looking after this amazing place.

Elizabeth King casually remarked, “I think it would be a good idea for Miranda to do the regular tourist trips before the season really gets underway at the resort. She should know at firsthand what she’s recommending to guests.”

Tommy frowned. “Sam’s still laid up with a sprained ankle...”

Miranda had already met Samantha Connelly, the resident helicopter pilot at the resort, a generally pleasant young woman, though bluntly terse in response to Tommy’s leasing over her temporary handicap.

“I’m flying down to the Bungle Bungle Range, day after tomorrow. Miranda can come with me if she likes.”

The words were spoken offhandedly, yet coming so unexpectedly from Nathan, they had the effect of a thunderbolt cracking through the air, jolting the rest of the company.

Tommy’s head swivelled towards his older brother.
“You?”

The astonishment in his voice heightened the weird panic attacking Miranda’s stomach. She had to force herself to glance at the man who was offering her his company on a one-to-one basis. It felt as though her whole body was screaming danger. Yet there was nothing on his face to indicate any special interest in her.

He raised an eyebrow at Tommy as though his brother was over-reacting to a perfectly natural suggestion. “Some problem?” he asked.

“And never the twain shall meet except during the June muster,” Tommy drily taunted. “Here it is only March, Nathan, and you’re offering to help with resort business?”

“Hardly business,” he retorted just as drily. “I’m making the trip anyway. It’s an opportunity going begging if Miranda wants to take it up.”

His gaze swung to her inquiringly.

Trapped in a small plane or helicopter with
him?
Her mind scurried to find some excuse not to accept.

“What are you going for?” Tommy asked, giving her more time.

The mesmerising blue eyes released her as they targeted his brother again. “The head park ranger wants to borrow the Sarah King diaries on the local Aboriginal tribes. Background reading. I said I’d drop them in to him.”

“Well, that fixes one trip for you, Miranda,” Elizabeth King said brightly, her face beaming satisfaction.

“But, Mrs King, the day after tomorrow...” Miranda frowned. “I see this week as very busy, getting myself familiarised with the workings of the resort and checking the intake of staff for the season. Much as I appreciate the offer, Nathan—” she quickly constructed a look of apologetic appeal “—I have barely arrived and...”

“Best to go while you can, Miranda,” Elizabeth King interjected firmly. “Besides, it won’t be taking up Samantha’s time or using one of Tommy’s pilots. This is much the more economical arrangement.”

Which neatly whipped the mat out from under Miranda’s feet, since insistence on some other time would cost the resort money.

“A dawn trip, Nathan?’’ his mother went on, having dispensed with any further protest from Miranda.

“Oh, I daresay we can catch the sunrise,” he answered.

Miranda sat seething as they settled the arrangements between them, totally ignoring whether what was being decided suited her or not. The arrogance of wealth, she thought, moving people around like pawns to their will. She barely quelled the urge to make a stand against them. The problem was she wasn’t familiar with the outback and firsthand experience of it probably was important in handling her job well.

And, in fact, she wouldn’t be objecting at all if it wasn’t Nathan she had to accompany. He rattled her. She didn’t feel in control with him.
Get a grip on yourself, Miranda,
she sternly berated herself. Like it or not, she had to deal with Nathan King, and maybe getting to know him better was the best way. He might lose his attraction on closer acquaintance.

“I’ll have you back at the resort by noon,” he assured her.

Six hours close to him. “Thank you,” she said, her heart fluttering in agitation.

“What do you think of it?”

“Pardon?” What was he referring to?

His eyes glinted with amused mockery, making her even more nervous. Did he sense how she felt about him?

“The resort. Since you’ve always held a city position, I wondered how it looked to you. I presume Tommy took you on a tour of it this afternoon.”

“The accommodation sectors are exceptionally well planned,” she could answer with confidence. “The homestead is brilliantly located, and the decor very attractive. Everything looks top class.”

One eyebrow rose challengingly. “No sinking heart feeling? No uneasy twang of, What have I done?’’

She laughed and shook her head. “More, How marvellous! I’m really looking forward to taking over and making the best of it.”

“A new world for you.”

“Yes.”

“Most people hang onto the world they know.”

“I guess I’m not most people.”

“An adventuress? Looking for something different?”

“More satisfying a need for something different.”

“Then I hope all your needs are satisfied here.”

“That would indeed be Eden.”

He laughed, his whole face springing alive so strikingly, Miranda was totally captivated by it. Her mind was zinging from the quick repartee between them and her body was pumping adrenaline so fast, every part of her felt highly invigorated.

His eyes literally danced with pleasure, shooting tingles of it into her bloodstream as he remarked, “I tend to think Eden is what we fashion for ourselves. It seems to me that’s what our choices are about...aiming for what will give us a happy situation.”

She was suddenly hit by a shockwave of intimacy that had to be turned back. Common sense insisted on ringing down a warning that life wasn’t quite as easy as that. “Unfortunately we can’t control the choices other people make,” she replied, her eyes trying to cool the warmth in his. “And that can create a hell for us.”

“You can always walk away.”

“But will they respect that?”