The Cattle King's Mistress (13 page)

He removed her briefs and sandals, his hands caressing her legs, her feet, sensitising every area he touched, leaving her flesh humming with excitement. Then he stood back and undressed himself, but not once did his gaze leave her, his clothes being discarded with methodical purpose while he spoke in a low, thrumming voice that wound around her and held her tied to him.

“Countless times have I envisaged this...you lying here on my bed, waiting for me, wanting me, nothing between us but the time it takes to come together. I don’t know why it’s so. It just is. Like a compelling need I cannot put aside.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her throat tightening at the sight of his nakedness emerging, what it meant to her, what it could mean if he shared what she felt. Need...yes...but did it go beyond what he’d known with any other woman?

Please let it be so,
she fiercely prayed.

He spoke again, seeming to answer her prayer. “That first evening, when you walked into my life...it was like...this woman was made for me...no sense to it...sheer instinct beating it out. And every time I see you, the same message clamours through me, regardless...”

Regardless of what?
she wanted to ask, but he leaned over and claimed her mouth in a long ravishing kiss that splintered any coherent thought. She felt him stretch out beside her, one tautly muscled thigh inserting itself between hers, a hand cupping her breast, gently kneading it as his mouth devoured hers with more and more erotic passion.

“Made for me,” he breathed against her lips, a husky claim, reinforced by his hand gliding down over her stomach, fingers weaving through the silky curls at the apex of her thighs, stroking intimately, making her gasp as he aroused an explosion of exquisite yearning.

“Do you know how much I want to make you mine?” he murmured, trailing hot kisses down her throat. “To taste you, to take you inside me, to be inside you...”

How could she think...answer...the questions were being swamped by feeling.

His mouth closed over her breast, drawing it into a wild rhythmic threshing that was suddenly echoed by a more invasive stroking, a circling of her vagina, an internal caress, a teasing tantalising slide and glide that had her arching for more.

He moved his mouth to her other breast, sucking harder, tugging in a crescendo of possession given and taken as she writhed to the intense pleasure of his knowing touch, mindless to anything but the fantastic sensations arcing through her. She cried out an anguished protest when he withdrew from her, heaving himself down to the foot of the bed, but almost instantly he forged an even more intimate connection, kissing her as deeply there as he had her mouth, his lips covering other pleasure-swollen lips, his tongue seeking a sweeter cavern.

A fiercer pleasure screamed through her, driving her frantic as she felt the tension of it build towards the flood of climax. “No...no...I want you...you...” she sobbed, hands grabbing his hair, pulling hard.

He rose like a dark force of shimmering energy and surged into her, filling the need and rocketing her into the first convulsive wave of ecstatic satisfaction. Her legs whipped around him, holding him deep within, exulting in the sweet tidal flow he had set in motion.

But he didn’t drive it on as she expected. He maintained the full union with her, letting the awareness of it throb acutely through both of them as he propped his body over hers, his chest brushing the extended peaks of her breasts, his eyes blazing into hers with a furnace of feeling.

“Does this feel special to you, Miranda? More special than anything you’ve ever known?”

The question seized her mind, focused it, forced a deeply primitive retaliation. “Is it to you?”

“Would I ask if it wasn’t? I want to know if what I feel is echoed in you and I need the truth.”

In a sudden flash, she realised it was Bobby disturbing Nathan’s trust in her response to him, Bobby who had stirred too many bad feelings for either of them to dismiss easily. Yet he didn’t belong in this precious moment. He might have been the catalyst that had driven them to this acknowledgement of each other, but the truth was... Bobby Hewson was nothing and Nathan was everything.

Her eyes met the fire in his with all the open honesty he was now giving her, the answers she’d craved...and the rightness of it poured a blissful conviction into her voice as she answered him.

“It’s been the same for me...all you said...from when I first saw you.” She lifted her hands to his face, cupping it, pressing her need for possession of him as she added, “I don’t care if it makes sense or not. If I could have a man made for me, it would be you.”

“No ifs, Miranda. I’m here with you, in you
now.
Am I the man for you?”

“Yes.” The answer came unequivocally. “All that you are, Nathan.”

“Then show me.”

His arms burrowed under her and he rolled, turning onto his back and carrying her so she straddled him, still with the hard fullness of him inside her, waiting for her to go beyond passive acceptance, to be as positive in action as her words had been. He was giving her the freedom to express her desire, her need for him, and the surprise spurred by his challenge of mutuality swiftly zoomed into elation.

It wasn’t a matter of showing him anything. She wanted to touch him, to caress and excite and tantalise and arouse him to the same incredible pitch of pleasure that would rip all control apart and plunge them both into the same beautiful sea of ecstatic release.

She tasted, licked, kissed, stroked, wherever desire took her, all the time consciously keeping him inside her, voluptuously rolling around him, sliding forward and backwards, feeling every inch of him enveloped and squeezed, released and teased. It was a glorious, glorious feeling...Nathan, all hers.

She exulted when she heard him catch his breath, when she felt the flesh under his skin quiver, when a husky growl escaped from his throat. Her own pleasure continued to come in delicious waves with the movement she manipulated herself, but the best of it came when he could stand no more of being
taken.

He erupted into action, heaving her back onto the pillows, gathering her to him, plunging himself hard and fast as though his survival depended upon it, a violent, primitive mating, his energy pouring into her in bursts of need—
compelling
need—no other woman made for him—not like her—none like her—and she was drawing this from him, climbing with him until they both reached a peak of fierce jubilation in their ultimate togetherness.

They hugged each other tightly, wanting the oneness to go on and on...the reality of it, the sense of it, the flow of feeling...and for a long, long time they shared the blissful harmony. Miranda was drifting into drowsiness when Nathan spoke, his voice humming softly in her ear.

“Is it too soon to hope you will be my mistress, Miranda?”

Her heart instantly contracted at his use of a word that had so many painful memories attached to it. She could barely bring herself to speak, but reason insisted he had to be thinking in more than sexual terms. Or was her own need for more than a sexual relationship colouring reason?

“What do you mean?” she asked flatly, trying to keep her emotions in check.

He wound a long tress of her hair around his hand, then let the silky strands of it slide through his fingers. “Is this ephemeral, or something we can keep?” His chest rose and fell as he expelled a long sigh. “I’m asking if there’s any chance you want to be the mistress of my heart, the mistress of my bed and home, the mistress of King’s Eden...for all the years ahead of us.”

Relief and joy erased the tension of wretched doubt.

“I’m not asking for a decision,” he went on. “I know it’s too soon. But I think you understand how it is, that this land is another kind of mistress and you’d have to tolerate its call on me. If you don’t see any possibility of sharing what I’d need you to share...”

“I’d share anything with you,” she cut in fervently. “Anything!” She felt him hold his breath and into her mind slipped the words Elizabeth King had spoken of her husband, Lachan, words that held the truth of her feeling for the man holding her in his arms. She hitched herself up, sliding her arms around his neck, speaking directly to the eyes questioning hers.
“You
are where I want to be. Whatever that entails, Nathan.”

His sigh whispered out through a smile that warmed her entire being. “So we have a beginning,” he said, a husky contentment in his voice.

“And no end in sight,” Miranda answered exultantly.

He laughed and rolled her onto her back, looming over her in a pose of wonderfully dominant maleness. “I gave you a choice,” he said teasingly.

“There was no choice,” she retorted. “Only you.”

“No one but you,” he answered softly.

And there was respect for the truths they had spoken this night in the love-making that followed. It was a good beginning, an open and honest communication of where they stood with each other, and Miranda ardently hoped that all the tomorrows would prove they were right in feeling what they did.

Nathan
waited in his office for the call he was expecting from Tommy. The weekend was over and he was content he’d made the most of it with Miranda, but he wanted to be sure mere would be no comeback from the man who’d driven her into his life in the first place. He was certain now that Hewson was out of her heart, but he wanted her mind clear of him, as well— the past completely past.

It appalled him that he himself had briefly cast Miranda in the role Hewson had maliciously painted— a woman on the make, uncaring whom she hurt. Lies...yet that morning at Cathedral Gorge, he had let his own frustration and her choice of words weave such a false picture.

Completely false.

And he’d hated Hewson for coming up with the same sexual scenario out of spite. All too easy to target a woman who had no back-up. But, by God! there would be no lack of back-up in this instance.

The telephone rang.

He snatched up the receiver, automatically noting the time—8.41—which more or less placed the proposed Monday morning departure on schedule.

“Nathan?”

“Here.”

“The Hewson charter flight is lifting off as I speak,” Tommy announced smugly. “The birds have flown.”

“You saw them onto the plane yourself?”

“No. I sent Sam to do that. I’m watching it from the homestead verandah.”

“Dammit, Tommy, I asked you.”

“Calm it, brother. No love lost between Sam and the Hewsons. She would have hog-tied them and hauled them into their seats if they’d so much as hesitated. And quite frankly, I’d had enough of them.”

“Is the problem cleared?”

“Oh, I think we established a pertinent understanding and Jared will make it stick during their stay in Broome.” He chuckled. “By the time Bobby-boy pays out there, I rather fancy he’ll want to forget he ever came to King’s Eden.”

“What payment are we talking about, Tommy?”

“Now, Nathan, you got the kudos for whizzing Miranda out of harm’s way. I deserve the kudos for clearing the decks. Bring her back now and I’ll tell you all.”

The call was disconnected before Nathan could press the point. He hoped Tommy’s confidence was not misplaced. A snake had a habit of wriggling and spitting venom even when it was spiked. Still, Tommy should know his own business. It was not only a matter of protecting Miranda. The resort was his baby.

Nathan smiled to himself as he moved out of the office and headed down the hall to Miranda’s room where she’d gone to pack her clothes, ready to leave. He didn’t mind the resort any more, despite the occasional irritation of tourists wandering where they shouldn’t. It had brought him the gold he’d thought he’d never find. True gold. And he’d staked his claim to it. His charming and gregarious brother could win as many kudos as he liked. It wouldn’t win Miranda. She was his and his mind was set on keeping her his. Whatever it took.

He knocked on her door, the memory of last night’s love-making fresh in his mind. Sleep had been minimal but he didn’t feel tired. He’d never felt more vibrantly alive, excitement stirring through him again as she called out, “Come in,” the words reminding him of her sexual openness, inviting all he wanted of her and revelling in every intimacy.

He stepped into her room, itching to hold her once more, and the anxious eyes she turned to him spurred him on.

“Is it all right? Have they gone?”

“Yes.”

She sagged into his embrace, her arms winding around his neck so the full lush femininity of her was pressed against him. He couldn’t resist flattening his palm across the pit of her back, fitting her even closer as he lifted his other hand to stroke away her worry lines.

“Tommy assures me Hewson won’t be coming back. It’s safe for you to return to the resort.”

“How did he handle it?” she asked, uncertainty still clouding her eyes.

“He insists we come and find out.” He smiled to reassure her. “Tommy enjoys a bit of boasting.”

She sighed, her breasts heaving sensuously. He’d never been so horny in his entire life. Difficult to push temptation aside but it was time for business now and Tommy would not appreciate being kept waiting.

“I just hope there aren’t any nasty repercussions,” she said, still fretful.

“Not on King’s Eden, Miranda,” he promised with absolute confidence, and kissed her frown away. “Ready to go?”

“Yes.” Trust and courage glowed in her eyes.

His heart kicked into a joyous beat at this further evidence that his instincts had been right all along. It had simply been a matter of breaking through her barriers for her real character to be revealed and everything made sense to him now. Whatever had made Miranda Wade, the result was she was made for him. There was not one response from her that didn’t fit want he wanted, what he craved.

With this assurance dancing through his mind, he broke away and picked up her bag. He would take her back to the resort and this tourist season would be long enough for her to know the life she would be taking on with him, but he had little doubt about the choice she would make. It had to be.

He took her hand. She looked at him. It was more than a physical link and she knew it. The bonding was there in her eyes. However many partings there would be, Nathan told himself none of them would change what they were to each other, and his soul filled with happiness at the thought. He would not be walking alone through life. Miranda would walk with him.

The drive back to the resort reminded Miranda of the drive away from it on Friday night...the confusion and fear that had churned through her then. The weekend had certainly sorted out where she stood with Nathan and she could almost bless Bobby Hewson for having unwittingly forced an outcome she hadn’t dared to believe in a few days ago. Nevertheless, anxiety still fretted at the edges of her happiness.

She had brought this trouble to King’s Eden. Inadvertently, but nonetheless irrevocably. She would feel responsible if Bobby did some damage to the resort’s good reputation and she couldn’t bring herself to believe he wouldn’t. It was impossible to trust the man or his word.

Unlike Nathan. She feasted her eyes on him as he drove, loving every aspect of him. He wasn’t just big on the outside. He was big all through. Her skin prickled in sensual delight, just remembering the pleasures they’d revelled in last night, how she’d felt so wonderfully enveloped by him, safe and cossetted, belonging to him and with him.

He hadn’t said he loved her, but wanting her to think of sharing his life—all the years ahead of them—and hoping she wanted to be
the mistress of his heart...
why would he crave her love, if he didn’t feel love for her? The words would come—she was sure of it—when he felt the time was right. Though she didn’t really need until the end of the tourist season to know what she already knew...that nothing was going to change her mind or heart. Nathan was the man for her.

Though she did owe an obligation to Tommy, to work out her contract at the resort...if he wanted her to. It might be better if she didn’t, should there be any risk of Bobby spreading damaging lies about the resort because she was the manager. Were Nathan and Tommy right in believing they had fixed the problem?

She hoped so.

It would be good to lay the past to rest, knowing it could never come back to hurt her or those she cared about, and that included everyone who’d supported her at King’s Eden. As Nathan drove through the resort to the homestead, she felt she had established herself as a person in her own right here. Maybe that was the effect of the outback, bringing out one’s inner resources to meet the challenge of it.

Sam and Tommy were waiting on their arrival, their stances on the homestead verandah reflecting the sparring mood typical of any conversation between them. However, attention was instantly focused on Nathan and Miranda as they alighted from the Land Cruiser. All personal wrangling halted as the
new couple
were scrutinised for sexual signals.

“Well, before I skip off,” Sam addressed them, “you’d better tell me if I’m to damp down the rumours or let them fly. That sleazy creep, Hewson, yapped on about Miranda, having her claws into you, Nathan, and I told him flat that if she did, it was precisely where you wanted her claws to be because no one got to you unless you opened up to them.”

“How very perceptive of you, Sam!” Nathan answered good-humouredly.

“So?” She gave him a piercing look. “What am I to say?”

“That I take intense pleasure in every one of Miranda’s claw-marks and can’t wait for more.”

“What?” Sam’s eyes goggled at Miranda. ‘‘You two truly are an item?”

“Yes,” she answered, casting a chiding look at the man beside her. “Though I’m not really into clawing.”

“Oh, boy, this is good! This is really good!” Sam enthused, then turned an arch look to Tommy who had apparently taken the news with bland equanimity. “Looks like you’ll have to make do with Celine thinking you’re adorable. And that will only last until she hooks up with Jared in Broome and gets her lustful little hands on him.”

“I couldn’t give a damn about Celine,” Tommy retorted with a bored look. “It was just part of the game.”

“And you’re
such
a good game player!”

Sam stepped off the verandah and pasted a brilliant smile on her face for Nathan and Miranda. “I’m glad for both of you.” She clapped Nathan’s shoulder in passing. “I’ll try to get Miranda to let her nails grow, Nathan. If ever a man deserves what he wants, it’s you.”

With that final little snipe at Tommy, she walked off jauntily, leaving him glaring after her.

“One of these days when that little witch gets off her broomstick...”

“You’ll beat her with it?” Nathan drily surmised.

Tommy huffed feelingly. “You couldn’t even beat submission out of Sam.”

“You don’t want submission, Tommy,” Nathan said knowingly.

It won a crooked smile. “No, but a bit of respect would go a long way.” His eyes flashed satisfaction. “Which is what I taught Hewson. As well as ramming it home that nobody does us a damage without paying a price.”

“I haven’t had a chance to thank you for taking over for me, Tommy,” Miranda breathed, acutely aware of what she owed both brothers.

His face broke into a cheerful grin. “One of the best moments of my life...Nathan actually asking me to stand shoulder to shoulder with him against the enemy. For that alone, you’re always going to be special to me, Miranda.”

He stepped back and waved them onto the verandah. “Let’s go inside and park your bag. Time’s moving on. I’ll have to be leaving myself in a minute.”

“Not before you tell us the nuts and bolts,” Nathan said as they entered the homestead.

“Just got to collect my stuff from the office.”

“Tommy...”

“Now, Nathan, give me credit,” Tommy crowed, wagging an admonishing finger as he headed them towards the hall leading to the administration wing. “I can spin a story better than most.”

“True.”

“And our guests love outback stories.” His eyes twinkled with teasing triumph. “So over dinner on Saturday night, I regaled them with the legend of Lachlan’s law.”

“Lachlan’s law?” Miranda queried.

Tommy waved dismissively. “Nathan can tell you.”

“A marked change of attitude on Sunday?” Nathan quizzed his brother.

“Like magic it was,” Tommy assured him. “Sam had the highly questionable pleasure of being the Hewsons’ guide all day Sunday, and she reported there was no further mention of Miranda and no digs about management. Of course, I did finish up my story with the reflection that you, Nathan, were made in the same mould as our father and held in the same regard by Albert’s tribe.”

“Albert?” Miranda couldn’t help asking, not understanding what the Aboriginal guide and didgeridoo player had to do with this.

“A particularly vivid touch of reality to the story since they’d met him that morning,” Tommy remarked smugly. He grinned at Nathan. “Then last night I laid the pearls on Celine, shovelling the pitch that her skin was made for them, the perfect sheen for her beguiling perfection, etcetera etcetera and offering up Jared to show her the best in the world. And that, my dear brother, is guaranteed to cost Hewson many, many thousands of dollars.”

“The price of pride!” Nathan said, and laughed. “I salute you, Tommy. Forget the shoulder to shoulder. You can stand in front of me any time.”

“I shall take that accolade and shove it down Sam’s throat on some appropriate occasion,” Tommy said with relish. “Meanwhile—” he lowered his brows at both of them as they turned into the administration wing ‘‘—am I going to have to rearrange management here?’’

“You can count on one season, Tommy,” Nathan answered. “The rest is up to Miranda. Her choice.”

“Right!” he said in some relief, halting at the office door and gesturing them on to Miranda’s private quarters. “I’m off then. No playing on my time, Nathan.”

“Your time is much appreciated.” A pause for a warm handshake. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tommy disappeared into the office and Nathan walked on with Miranda who was silently rejoicing in how clearly and openly he had declared his interest in her, both to Sam and to Tommy. One season...then the choice was hers. No backing off from him. This wasn’t pillow-talk. This was real.