Outback Sunset (8 page)

Vanessa stopped but still swayed to the beat in front of the mirror over the mantelpiece to study her reflection. Was she in love with Bren Selby? She stared critically at her image while she catalogued her features. Her mouth was a little too wide, her eyebrows were too straight — she’d rather they arched a little even though straight did suit her. The high cheekbones, inherited from her mother, gave her face a slightly aristocratic look. She sucked in her cheeks and the bones stood out even more. Good bone structure. Gran had said she would age well. Christ, who cared about that, she thought as she flicked her hair back? She was only twenty-eight, a long way from being
old
. As she stared into her brown depths she tried to analyse her feelings for Bren.

Without a doubt she liked him, a lot. He was easy to be with. No pretensions, no bullshit, no sugar-coated compliments to get into her pants. That, in itself, set him apart from most of the men who came on to her. Her cheeks tinted pink at her frank thoughts. Did
she
want him to? Hmmm! There was a strong, growing physical attraction between them, she couldn’t deny it. She dreamt about him, thought about him so much, wondered, yes, what would it be like to run with her feelings.

Her fiancé, David, had been an experienced lover, skilled in the art of getting a woman’s total response. Bren, obviously, wasn’t a worldly-wise man but that might be a nice change. After losing David she’d thought a good deal about the attributes she wanted in a man: sincerity, loyalty, honesty. Bren had all these things and more. She smiled at her reflection. Yes, it would be easy to fall in love with him. Indeed. Dead easy.

The front doorbell rang.
Bren
. Vanessa turned the hi-fi off and went to let him in. ‘Come on, Sandy,’ she called, listening to his pit-patter footsteps behind her, ‘we’re going on a holiday.’

Manoeuvring the brightly painted, six metre barge along the narrow canal was not as simple as Ronnie, Vanessa’s friend and their instructor, had made out. Bren had learned that after a few kilometres down the main canal. It was still early in the season, so there wasn’t a lot of craft on the water. Vanessa had said that at the peak of summer, barges waited for hours to go through the several locks along the way. Bren glanced at the countryside as he steered. After a wet
winter, the countryside looked so green his eyes hurt. He couldn’t imagine Amaroo having the lushness of England. If it did, he could run three to four times the number of cattle he ‘grew’ on his property.

The barge’s motor, a simple engine, putt-putted away, trailing a column of greyish-black smoke from the narrow funnel above the cabin. If Curtis could see him now, with his cap on — Vanessa insisted that as the barge’s captain he had to wear it — a woollen checked shirt and a sleeveless nylon zip-up vest and black corduroy pants, no doubt he’d get a sneer and a horse laugh from him.

Bren didn’t care. He couldn’t remember being happier. Vanessa was like nothing he had ever experienced. Most of the time he stood in awe of her beauty, quietly amazed that she enjoyed his company. She was lovely, and unaffected, perhaps even unaware of the massive effect she had on him. He watched her come out of the cabin, bearing mugs of hot tea.

‘We should reach the next village by lunch. We can tie up there and have a meal at a cafe on the main street,’ she said as she handed him a mug.

‘Sounds good.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘The weather looks as if it’s closing in.’

She looked up too. ‘Just a shower, that’s all.’

He grinned. ‘I wish I could bottle some of your weather, the countryside too, and transport them to Amaroo.’

She lifted an eyebrow at him. ‘Are you getting homesick?’

‘Not at all. I’ve missed out on a lot of hard work, and the heat. In late summer, going into our
autumn, it’s pretty warm in the Kimberley. My brother will be down in the mouth at not having me around, but he’ll manage.’

‘You’re lucky to have family to rely on. I envy you that.’

He glanced at her over the rim of his mug. ‘You envy me! You, who has everything. The theatrical world’s at your feet, adulation from fans, financial security.’

She shook her head at him. ‘What I envy is your family. You’ve a brother, a sister, a mother, nephews and a niece. I … have no-one except Kerri — she’s the closest thing I have to family. Sometimes, even in a city as crowded as London,’ she confided, ‘one can feel very much alone.’

He put his free arm around her and drew her closer. ‘I’ll share my rellies with you,’ he offered. ‘How about that?’

‘That’s nice of you.’ She kissed him on the cheek.

Very quickly he turned her face-on so he could kiss her lips. The kiss deepened and her arms slid up around his neck. The hand not on the barge’s tiller crept around her waist and pulled her hard against his chest.

Vanessa experienced a slow, sizzling sensation. It enervated her spine and a certain breathlessness accompanied the lightheartedness which began to invade her. She tried to think straight and couldn’t. Then, she decided she didn’t want to and gave herself up to what he was arousing in her — marvellous, wonderful feelings. When they separated each stared deeply into the other’s eyes, for several seconds, trying to gauge the other’s reactions.

Bren cleared the huskiness from his throat before he said, ‘I could take a lot of that.’

Brown eyes sparkled with mischief, and something deeper, more mysterious. ‘And I’m pleased to oblige,’ she said, and promptly kissed him back.

The barge, not being steered competently, edged towards and bumped against the side of the canal.

‘Damn,’ Bren muttered half under his breath. He let Vanessa go so he could correct the barge’s course. ‘Too many distractions on deck.’

Smiling, Vanessa gave him a mock salute. ‘Yes, Captain, I’ll go below decks, Captain. Keep your eye out for that village. We’ll put in there for lunch and supplies.’

Over a light lunch then shopping at a market nearby for basic supplies — bread, milk, cereals, juice — Vanessa’s mind wandered. All she could think of since they’d kissed on deck was — that kiss! How it affected her, what her expectations were, what his might be.

Increasingly, she was finding Bren Selby very attractive; she was too honest with herself to deny that. But, she had to ask herself the question, how far did the sexual attraction go? After David, she had become apprehensive about allowing a romantic situation to get out of hand. She didn’t think she could bear to be hurt again. But then she found herself tallying Bren’s good points, looking for negatives and not finding any. Their budding romance was … perfect. They enjoyed each other’s company and while he’d made no sexual demands,
she knew from his hastily masked expressions and the tension in him that such thoughts dominated. It was almost as if he didn’t want to spoil the perfection of their courting, if she could use such an old-fashioned term, by taking their relationship to a deeper level.

And the depth of her feelings for him had been tested when he’d left London for two days and nights, to inspect a breeding bull at a farm in Lancashire. She had been miserable
and
conscious that something important was missing in her life. She had been unable to think about anything other than his return and the welcome back dinner she’d planned for him.

Perhaps … the thought crossed her mind as they made their way back through misty rain to the barge with the groceries, and Sandy jumping at their heels, it was up to her to make the first move for both of them.

After stowing the groceries in the compact, functional gallery, Bren was about to don an oilskin, start the motor and cast off when Vanessa closed the hatch and drew the bolt. She turned towards him. ‘No need to rush. The rain will last for an hour or so, and the next lock is less than an hour away.’

‘Okay, I’ll see what’s on the telly.’

‘You can,’ she agreed, ‘but …’ She walked up to him and faced him. Her brown eyes stared into his. ‘Telly isn’t the only activity one can indulge in below decks.’

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at her not very subtle suggestion, and his Adam’s apple wobbled nervously when he swallowed. The smile she
radiated contained a mixture of allure and invitation as her fingers found the top button of his shirt and prised it open. And then … her fingers slid inside to stroke his bare chest.

Bren wasn’t slow on the uptake. His arms came around her and drew her close, the fingers of one hand tilting her chin up. Unerringly, his lips found hers and she felt a shuddering sigh go through him as his arms tightened around her. As she surrendered mentally and physically to the magic of the moment, she was aware that the attraction between them was spiralling out of control but she was beyond caring.

His lips were warm and firm, his questing tongue knowledgeable and curious as it delved into her warm, responsive mouth and found a sensual match. Their breathing grew ragged as they pressed together, closer and closer, hands and fingertips exploring each other’s body. Both eager for greater intimacy, they began to undress each other and, with stumbling steps, bumped their way down the narrow passageway to the main bedroom in the forward section of the barge. By the time they reached the bed, they were half undressed.

Bren rained a dozen feather-light kisses over her face, but then moved back to regard her seriously. ‘You’re sure you want to …?’

Vanessa’s fingers explored the contours of his face, noting the hesitation in his eyes, his concern for her. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. Suddenly, without forethought, without analysing it, she knew she had never been more sure of anything in her life. Amazing as it seemed, considering the brief time they had known each other, she was falling in love
with Bren. And it was the most marvellous feeling. She couldn’t recall how or when the attraction had deepened to something more serious, and neither had she expected or wanted it to happen, but it had. The symptoms that went with being in love were not unknown to her — blood racing through her veins, feeling dizzy and the next second giggly, and shy. Neither did she want to think about later, about tomorrow or next week, next month, she just wanted
now
… with him.

Smiling at the reverence of his touch, she let him finish undressing her, her self-consciousness at being naked on the bed betrayed by the rosy flush that coloured her cheeks and warmed her body down to her toes. His caresses were gentle, almost as if he feared she would break, until she showed him she wouldn’t and began to boldly stroke his body and show him what she wanted. She quickly learned that Bren was a well-built man. His shoulders were broad and his torso muscled from years of working out of doors and he was deeply tanned to below the waist. Curiously, her fingers began to undo the belt on his trousers, then fiddle with the zipper. At that, his hand rested over hers, stopping her.

‘I think I can manage,’ he said with a husky laugh, his eyes glinting with desire as they roamed over her.

‘I-I’m being too forward,’ she said softly, embarrassed.

‘No, I love your honesty, darling. It’s so refreshing.’

The smile she gave him was a trifle wobbly around the edges. Seducing a man was an experience she lacked. In the past the opposite had
occurred. There had been men, not exactly a stampede of them, only five full-on affairs over her adult life, and in the lovemaking her partner had taken the initiative. She didn’t know why she was behaving differently with Bren, maybe it was because she wanted him so much. Deep inside an unsatisfied ache resided and feelings — she had been keeping them suppressed for fear of being hurt again — bubbled and boiled, creating a head of steam that craved release.

She shivered, not from the cool air inside the barge, but with anticipation as he lay on his side next to her on the bed. He wasn’t going to rush things, though she could tell he wanted her quite badly. His breathing was heavy, his eyelids were drooping, his body, hard and tense, touched her from chest to knees, exposing the evidence of his arousal. Its heat scorched against her lower stomach, tantalising and tormenting her with the promise of fulfilment.

He kissed her again, deeply, passionately, then he rolled her onto her back and began a trail of kisses down her chin, to between her breasts. He paused there to suckle each one until she writhed against him with impatience. His lips moved lower, to her navel, to the dark vee of curls at the junction of her legs and, lower still, exploring, tasting, anointing her with his hot, wet tongue.

Was his intention to drive her insane, she wondered as wave upon wave of desire, each stronger than the last threatened to shred her self-control? In a half-strangled voice she whispered close to his ear, ‘Bren, I want you … Now.’

Knowing she was ready he plunged into her, long and deep and hard. Vanessa’s body bucked as the first orgasm shuddered through her. Her fingers dug into his buttocks, urging him on further as their bodies rocked in the frenzy of passion each had unleashed, until, finally, their energies and appetites expended, they lay in each other’s arms and drifted into a light, dreamy sleep.

That afternoon the barge didn’t make it to the next lock. For the rest of that day and most of the night, Bren and Vanessa remained closeted in the barge’s bedroom … talking quietly to each other, making love, sleeping and making love again until overtaken by exhaustion.

All too soon their idyllic break came to an end. As they tied up at the dock and offloaded Sandy and the bags, Bren’s sense of regret that their time together had been so brief, deepened. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was in love and Vanessa … He had high hopes that she was learning to care for him too.

Vanessa sat in Kerri Spanos’s office, listening to her agent talk to a producer in Hollywood. To occupy herself she studied the interior of the office. It was a testimony to Kerri’s success as an agent. Autographed photographs of famous actors, producers and directors covered almost all the available wall space. On her desk was a photo of Kerri’s husband, Yannis, and their son Nick. Yannis had decided years ago that the go-getter, the business head of the family, was his wife. She had
the acumen and the drive, and he’d been more than happy to become a gentleman farmer in Sussex while Kerri ran her business, the Spanos Artists Management Agency from her London office and lived in their fashionable flat in Knightsbridge. Kerri and thirteen-year-old Nick would motor down to Nutley and their farm most weekends. Most considered it an odd arrangement but it worked for the Spanos — they were a happy family unit.