Marion Lennox: A Millionaire For Molly

‘Kids are adaptable,’ he told her, thinking things through. ‘I assume you were living in the country at the time of the accident. Couldn’t Sam have moved there with you?’

‘I tried,’ she said briefly. ‘It was a disaster.’ Should she tell him the whole sad story of Michael? No way. She’d let herself love a rat and it had taken a tragedy to show that to her. She could no longer live in the same small town as Michael. It was hard enough to know he was in the same country.

‘Sam’s parents lived in a plush city apartment and he goes to an inner city school,’ she told him. ‘He needed continuity. So I moved.’

As simple as that. ‘But aren’t you-?’

‘Did you note the carrying capacity of those pastures?’ she demanded, switching track with a definite purpose. ‘It’s amazing. I’ve never read such figures for non-dairy country, and that’s without putting added nutrients on the pastures-something that hasn’t been done for years. If you were to invest in superphosphate-’

‘I’ll invest in superphosphate.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘You mean you’ll buy?’

He corrected himself. ‘ If I buy, I’ll invest in superphosphate.’

‘It’s a great buy.’

Silence. Somewhere a kookaburra started up, its raucous chortle ringing through the bushland. From where they were settled they could hear the faint crashing of waves on the beach below, and the breeze was a gentle whisper through the gums overhead. The place was indeed magic…

‘This place will sell in two minutes in the open market.’

‘There’s not a lot of buyers with the cash needed to buy a place like this.’

‘I know at least five,’ she said promptly. ‘You want me to name them? You decide against this place and I’ll be on the phone to them in minutes. They don’t know it’s on the market or they’d be beating a path to our door.’

He gave a rueful grin. ‘You do a very pressured sales pitch.’

She smiled. ‘That’s my job.’

‘Selling farms?’

Her smile died. ‘Yes.’

‘But you now sell city properties.’ He was still probing, still searching for what lay beneath. ‘Do you enjoy that?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘There’s no “of course” about it. You’re a country girl, born and bred. Even I can see that.’

‘Well, how about you?’ she asked, trying again to change direction. ‘You spent a lot of your childhood on a farm. Why are you thinking of buying this place? Are you returning to your roots?’

‘You could say that.’

‘From all I hear you spend most of your time overseas.’

‘Until now.’

‘So you’re thinking of settling down here.’ The idea, she decided, appealed to her. This place and this man seemed to suit each other. He sat with his back against a rock, the sun on his face as he gazed out over the pastures to the sea beyond. He looked at peace. Like a man coming home. A man who belonged.

‘Maybe,’ he said at last.

Still she probed. ‘Are you thinking of getting married?’

His face stilled. ‘Why do you suggest that?’

‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. It was none of her business after all. ‘I guess, when a man thinks of settling…’

‘And Mrs Gray would like a family here?’

‘There is that.’ She smiled as the inexplicable note of tension eased. ‘I hope you’d oblige. After all, it is extremely important to keep the hired help happy.’

‘By having a family?’ He assumed an expression of horror. ‘No way. Not even for the Grays. Maybe I’ll borrow Sam from time to time.’

She thought that through and approved. ‘He’d like that.’

‘So, despite you staying in the city, Sam’s not happy?’

Drat, they were talking about her life again, and she shouldn’t do it. He was a client. She knew better than to mix business with pleasure. They stayed absolutely apart.

But it was so tempting to talk of Sam. She was so worried about him, and Jackson was looking at her with calm grey eyes that said he was really interested. He really cared.

‘No.’ She sighed. ‘He’s not happy. I guess I can’t expect that-his parents have only been dead six months. But…’ Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip. He couldn’t really care.

Only it seemed he did. ‘How did he come by the bruises on his face?’

‘He takes on the world.’

‘Can you explain?’

Unwise or not, the temptation to unload her worries was irresistible. Jackson’s shoulders were so broad-maybe it wouldn’t hurt to burden him a little.

‘He’s so darned little,’ she told him. ‘He’s the smallest kid in his class, but he won’t take a back seat. He stands up for himself, no matter what. If a bigger kid pushes in front of him Sam will shove back, regardless of the consequences-and he always comes off second best. The school’s not great, but I can’t afford to move him.’

Jackson thought that through. ‘There’s money problems?’

‘My sister and her husband didn’t believe in insurance. And they lived life in the fast lane. There were debts.’

‘I see.’ And he did. More than she knew. He could guess by the set look of her chin just what sort of obligations she’d shouldered. ‘He’s some responsibility.’

‘As you say.’

There was silence again, but this time it was different. There was no tension. It was almost as if they knew what the other was thinking.

He seemed…a friend, Molly thought inconsequentially. It seemed she was being offered friendship in an unlikely place-but it was friendship, regardless. She’d heard the note of caring in his voice and it made her blink back tears.

Drat the man. He had the capacity to get under her skin. And why? Because he was big and handsome and gentle and…

And a millionaire-even a billionaire! As such he was right out of her league, even as a friend. Men like Jackson weren’t friends. If they were anything at all then they were trouble.

She bit her lip and stooped to pack their picnic things. ‘It’s time we were getting on. There’s still plenty to see.’

‘So there is.’ But his gaze was on her face and his eyes were thoughtful.

‘So, help me,’ she demanded, letting a note of irritation enter her voice. ‘It won’t all fit in my saddlebag.’

‘And you’re not my servant?’ His tone was faintly teasing and Molly flushed.

‘No, Mr Baird, I’m not your servant,’ she snapped, and kept on packing.

But still he didn’t help. He stood looking down at her stooped figure, and there was a very odd expression playing beneath the thoughtfulness of his features.

She was some lady! The thought hit him out of nowhere, and he didn’t have a clue what to do with it.

THEY rode for three hours and they hardly talked. There was no need.

The property did indeed sell itself, Molly decided as they moved from one paddock to another. Each seemed better than before. This was a tiny paradise cut off from the outside world. The more she saw, the more three million seemed very cheap.

But it wasn’t for her to say. Hannah Copeland had named her price and it was up to Jackson to say yes or no. If he said no then she’d contact Hannah and advise her to increase her asking price the next time she showed anyone…

‘What are you thinking?’ Jackson demanded, and Molly discovered that he’d been watching her. Were her thoughts transparent? She hoped not.

‘You’re thinking of upping the price,’ he said bluntly, and she had to smile.

‘Um…yes.’

‘You think three million is cheap?’

‘It is, and you know it is.’

He gazed around him and had to agree. ‘Yep.’

‘So, if I ask you to pay more…?’