Marion Lennox: Her Outback Rescuer

‘So you won’t kiss me again?’ he asked.

‘No.’

‘Can I ask why not?’

‘One,’ she said, patience personified, ‘I’m not a one-night stand sort of girl. I may have been desperate enough to lurch in here with my dog and my pyjamas, but I’m still respectable.’

‘Right,’ he said faintly. ‘And two?’

‘Two? Two is that I’m not interested in any sort of relationship. If you’re thinking one kiss could signal the beginning of an affair, even a tiddly, inconspicuous affair, I’ll tell you where to put that as well.’

‘Can I ask why?’ He shouldn’t ask—this was the craziest of conversations—but she had him intrigued.

‘Because even though you’re drop-dead gorgeous, and even though the tabloids have you as billionaire and your grandpa’s heir, and you even say you’re hero material, I’m totally, absolutely not in the market for any sort of relationship. It’s taken me months to persuade Rachel to come away with me. You think two days into our journey I’m going to turn around and say, Sorry, Rachel, go back to your books for a while because I have this hot guy in Car Two?’

‘I understand,’ he said, and he did. But what he didn’t understand was his unfathomable sense of loss.

There was an attraction between them. She’d felt it—she must have felt it. He’d intended that kiss to be fast and hot and to leave her flustered enough to look … well, flustered . What he hadn’t counted on was that it would leave him feeling as he’d intended her to look.

Dear Reader,

This year my husband and I set off on the journey of a lifetime, travelling through the centre of Australia on the legendary Ghan Railway, and then onto a boat at Darwin and around the northern Australian coastline to Broome.

We got on and off train and boat. We climbed crags to see art painted seventeen thousand years ago. We rode camels. We met crocodiles. We poked around on a reef that varies from six metres under water at high tide to four metres above at low tide. We came home gloriously, wondrously happy, and aching to share.

So what better way, I thought, than to create two deserving heroines and send them off on an adventure of their own? Not only could they have the time of their lives, as we did, but they could also chance upon heroes as rugged and tough as the landscape they share.

In this, the first of my two Outback books, Amy and Rachel are sisters in deep trouble, travelling to escape tragedy. Major Hugo Thurston—commando, billionaire, solitary soldier—is about to meet his match.

This is Amy’s story, and it’s set on the Ghan and at Uluru, the very heart of Australia’s Outback. Please forgive any slight adjustments I’ve made to the layout of the Ghan and to its timetable. And note that my imaginary Ghan staff bear no resemblance to any of the real staff, all of whom were and are unfailingly fabulous.

Look out for Rachel’s story to come—watch my website, www.marionlennox.com, for release dates.

Enjoy!

Marion Lennox

MARION LENNOXis a country girl, born on an Australian dairy farm. She moved on—mostly because the cows just weren’t interested in her stories! Married to a “very special doctor”, Marion writes for the Mills & Boon ®Medical Romance™ and Mills & Boon ®Cherish™ lines. (She used a different name for each category for a while—readers looking for her past romance titles should search for author Trisha David as well). She’s now had more than seventy-five romance novels accepted for publication.

In her non-writing life Marion cares for kids, cats, dogs, chooks and goldfish. She travels, she fights her rampant garden (she’s losing) and her house dust (she’s lost). Having spun in circles for the first part of her life, she’s now stepped back from her “other” career, which was teaching statistics at her local university. Finally she’s reprioritised her life, figured what’s important, and discovered the joys of deep baths, romance and chocolate. Preferably all at the same time!

Her Outback

Rescuer

Marion Lennox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Elizabeth and for Mary Michele.

Without your friendship, laughter and belief,

my stories would never happen.

I love you both.

THE Structure and History of Granite looked fascinating reading. He could scarcely imagine the plot.

But plots weren’t on Major Hugo Thurston’s current agenda. As an elite commando with the Australian Armed Forces, Hugo was trained to make fast decisions and he made one now. As reading choice for his dinner companion, the book on granite seemed perfect.

Seemed . Make sure. His training said check the whole scene.

The reader wasn’t alone. She was one of a pair, and both women looked less than thirty. This could mean trouble, especially when Maudie was with him.

But, on closer inspection, things looked even more promising. The book held by the second woman was Prehistory in Stone .

‘We’re sitting here,’ he told the waiter, and before Maudie could object, her grandson shepherded her into the seats opposite the two readers. Hopefully they’d keep their noses in their books for the entire meal.

But even if they did, Hugo still didn’t want to be here. He and his grandmother were travelling Platinum Class on the Ghan , the legendary train running through Australia’s vast outback. Platinum service included gourmet meals served in their private sitting room.

But… ‘Why would I want to eat my meals just with you?’ Maudie had demanded.

‘We have massive windows. You can look at the whole Australian outback while we eat.’

‘The dining car has windows, too, and I like meeting people. If your grandfather was here, he’d have taken me to the dining car.’ Maudie had groped for her handkerchief, and so, of course, the thing was decided. To the dining car they went, where tables were filled to capacity—which meant, Platinum Class or not, they had to share.

With Granite and Prehistory.

At least let this meal be better than lunch, he demanded silently of fate. It could hardly be worse. For their first meal on board they’d been stuck with a middle-aged couple who recognised Maud and exuded sympathy as a form of pleasantry.

‘We read about your husband’s death. Oh, you poor thing. But he had such a fabulous life. You can’t really mourn someone so rich who dies so old, can you?’

Then, as Maudie failed to respond, they’d turned to Hugo. ‘And you’re home to take over your grandfather’s company. It’s about time. The gossip magazines have been wondering about you for years. No one’s ever been able to understand why you’ve stayed in the army so long, and in such awful places. And what a waste when you’re so rich…’

He’d wanted to do violence, but his grandmother’s dignity had made him reply in an almost civilised fashion. Maudie had grown quiet with distress but she was one brave lady. She’d returned for dinner, to take another chance.