Margaret Way - Outback Wives Wanted!

He hauled her to him so her head snapped back, then seemed to fall in slow motion into the crook of his arm. Her hair spilled everywhere in a wild golden mass.

She had the disorienting sensation she was falling … falling … toppling from a very high place with no way to stop. Or would he save her? But this was a wholly different Guy. One she had barely glimpsed. She was confronted by the dominant male pushed that little bit too far. The hunter in him was about to take what he wanted. She couldn’t get her breath for the overwhelming excitement.

“Guy—please don’t!” It would be the end of their relationship as she had known it.

“Stop me if you can!”

Pulses of electricity were running up and down her thighs, pooling in the delta of her body, alive with raw nerve-endings.

“Guy!” Her voice shook with panic. She felt the force of him, the inner energy, the demands he was going to make on her. Everything about him gave her to understand beyond any possible doubt that he desired her above anything else.

Her heart beat as if wings were unfurling in her chest. It was as though she had never been up close to a man in her life, had never known the violent eroticism of a man’s hard body, so powerful, so aggressive, so very different from her own.

He was deaf to her involuntary cry—if he even heard her. This was all about getting what he wanted. His mouth, poised over hers, abruptly came down, opening her lips beneath his, pressing without crushing, gaining control and then mastery. She had no defence against him. Not even the desire to protect herself. What was happening was ravishing, far from gentle, and deeper than hunger. What could it be? The only possible answer was passion. She had no recourse but to yield to it—because in the end wasn’t this what she craved? All she could do was cling to him, trapped by a sexual pleasure that was nigh on unbearable.

The scent of him was in her nostrils. She felt the indescribable warmth of his mouth and his mating tongue, the taste, the texture, the faint rasp from his tanned polished skin on her tender flesh. She thought dazedly that their mouths were refusing to part. Refusing to surrender the fabulous thrill. Her back arched at the same time as she let out a whimper. What she feared that was she would lose all coherent thought.

His voice, strangely laboured, came from above her head. “Not much pity there, Alana,” he said, with unfamiliar harshness.

She thought if he took his encompassing arms away she would simply fold. “No …” She couldn’t deny it. There were tears in her eyes. “What was your intention?” she whispered. “To teach me a lesson?”

His spread fingers pressed along her spine. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

“You’re so very good at it. Would you like to feel my heart?”

She hadn’t believed for one moment that he would respond to what was no more than a taunt. Instead he confounded her. He pushed his hand inside the printed silk of her shirt, the palm of his hand taking the weight of her breast, thinly covered by her bra.

She gasped, instantly suffused in heat. His fingers, manlike, sought her naked flesh. She gripped his wrist tight. She had to stop him, even though she desperately wanted him to keep going. It filled her up with a reckless passion she had never experienced before. Where was her life going? She thought wildly. She had never thought of him as a lover.

Liar, said that inexorable voice inside her.

“Your heart’s racing,” he murmured, continuing to caress her. His expression was drawn taut, intent, as if he had started on a long-awaited voyage of discovery of her body.

Speech was impossible. Indeed, how could they ever speak to each other after this? The tips of his fingers had found her sensitised nipple, full of colour, were rolling it between them so it became a swollen bud of pure want. With one arm he brought her closer into him, staring down into her flushed face.

“You’re a beautiful, beautiful woman, Alana!”

“One you shouldn’t be putting at risk.”

“Close your eyes. I won’t hurt you,” he promised. “I only want to make love to you a little.”

Couldn’t he see her agitation? Her flesh was threatening to catch fire. “And if I say you can’t?”

“I know I can.” His kisses moved to her throat. “Your father will sleep well into the morning. I want to take you home with me.” His voice was so low and seductive it could have melted stone.

She knew if she went with him it would be momentous turning point in her life. “Don’t think I’m so foolish.” Caution welled. She was a virgin. She had no protection.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want. Instinct tells me you’re a virgin?” He came at it directly.

A groan escaped her. “What am I, anyway? An open book?” She tried to pull away, but he held her tighter.

“A book I desperately want to read,” he said, the note in his voice making her senses swim. “I’ll call the house. You’ve had nothing to eat. I’ll get Gwen to make us something.”

“And for the rest of the night?” She threw back her golden head, the spirit of challenge showing in her eyes.

‘I’ll make love to you a little,” he said softly. “Though the time’s fast approaching to make it real.”

“It’s real enough for me now,” she said, feeling her every last defence had been shaken loose. “Besides, I’m not in such a hurry. I should stay here—where I belong.” Her feelings were so intense, so out of control, she felt she had little option but to push the panic button.

“You’re too frightened to come with me?” He looked deeply into her eyes.

Insane as it was, it was true. “I have to think ahead, Guy,” she answered, grappling with her heart’s desire. “If I go to Wangaree with you, the whole Valley will know by the morning.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “My people will see you for exactly what you are. A lifelong friend.”

“Of course—you would command absolute loyalty. Is that how I’ve never heard even a whisper about my mother and your father? Were they lovers?” She stepped closer, staring into his eyes.

“What would be the point of discussing it?” he said sombrely.

“Point being some people are feeling the shock waves to this day. How did your mother manage to live her life with such a secret in the background?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, his striking face taking on a daunting expression. “Why don’t we leave my mother out of this, Alana?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “But can’t you see I have a need, indeed a right to know? I’m not a child. I can’t be kept in the dark. You wouldn’t accept being shut out for a half a minute. Why should I? Your mother must have known. For that matter, when did you first find out? Does Alex know? Or was she kept in the dark like me?”

“Keep probing and you’ll finish up in a dark forest,” he warned, reaching for his jacket. “For the last time—are you coming?”

She braced herself against the intolerable weight of longing. She knew she couldn’t resist him. And, to make her position even more vulnerable, she knew of the powerful forces that had gathered in him.

“No, Guy,” she said, as though she had sworn an oath. She turned away with a little broken laugh. “I can’t think any woman has said no to you before.”

“Is that why you’re doing it?” he asked, his black eyes glittering.

She struggled to frame the right words. “You know why I’m doing it, Guy. You say you don’t want to hurt me, but I fear somewhere deep down inside of you, you do!”