Secrets Of The Outback

“Mr. Skinner was after a particular file,” Jewel fired back levelly. She’d never met a man like Connellan. Who the devil did he think he was? She felt a wave of answering aggression. More to the point, what had she missed? She’d surely missed something. He was looking at her as though she was playing some high-stakes game. Or as if she had secrets to hide. What on earth was going on? Whatever reaction she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this.

Connellan now held out his hand like a man used to a great deal of authority. “Show me.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connellan, it’s confidential.” She kept her expression neutral.

“I thought it might be,” he said. “I’d like to see it, all the same.”

Skinner interrupted uneasily. “Look here, Keefe, Ms. Bishop is one of our finest young lawyers and my protеgеe. She did a lot of research for the Quinn Corp.-Omega takeover. I thought it was time you met her.”

“So you arranged it.” Connellan’s tone was hard.

Skinner shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Keefe. Or why you’re upset.”

Connellan took a step closer to Lady Copeland, his manner both protective and daunting. “Are you feeling better, Davina?”

“Perhaps a cup of sweetened tea?” Jewel suggested, already turning to go.

“Thank you, my dear, but no.” Lady Copeland spoke quietly and gently. “I’m sorry if Mr. Connellan and I seem distracted.”

“We can scarcely fail to be,” Connellan said, his voice clipped. “I’m curious, Ms. Bishop. How long have you been with the firm?”

“Three years.” Jewel returned his challenging gaze with one of her own.

“Ms. Bishop came to us with wonderful references,” Skinner submitted, sounding quite confused.

“And where did you work before that?” Connellan asked.

Such unfettered arrogance, Jewel thought. She named the highly respected law firm in the north.

“But you wanted to come to Brisbane?”

She nodded a shade too curtly. “It’s not too terrible to be ambitious, is it, Mr. Connellan? I needed more demanding work.”

“Eugenia graduated top of her class,” Skinner pointed out. “Indeed, she won the University Medal. Across all disciplines on all campuses, as I believe you did yourself, Keefe.”

Connellan ignored him. “Go ahead, Ms. Bishop. As you might imagine, we’re particularly interested.”

“Really?” Jewel couldn’t mask her surprise. “You only met me a minute ago.”

Lady Copeland, who had listened without interrupting, now spoke. “What is your background, my dear?”

Jewel felt astonished by her interest. “I could show you my file, Lady Copeland, but shouldn’t I be getting you a cup of tea?” She sought to keep her tone respectful.

“I’ll ring for it.” Skinner moved quickly to the phone, betraying an uncharacteristic agitation, not without a hint of excitement.

“I find it hard to believe you’re a country girl,” Keefe Connellan said, his black eyes moving so disturbingly over Jewel that she felt herself flush. She was developing a profound dislike of this too-handsome, too-arrogant, too-rich and powerful man.

“But I am, Mr. Connellan. Take it or leave it. In fact, I was born on an Outback cattle station.”

Incredibly he laughed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said strangely. Facing her, he was disconcertingly close.

“Doing?” Her vivid blue eyes sparkled with anger. Jewel was confident in herself and her own abilities. She refused to let this man belittle or insult her, no matter who he was.

But he smiled at her. A curiously unnerving smile, for all that it lit his lean, darkly tanned face. “You’d better be good.”

Lady Copeland spoke in a voice so strained it seemed almost theatrical. “It’s all falling into place. Your father was a Steven Bishop? Overseer on one of our properties, Mingaree Station, some twenty years ago.”

Skinner looked over at Jewel quizzically. He had always sensed this girl had some mystery to her. Was that what it was all about? Her father? What had Bishop done?

Jewel inclined her gleaming blond head, one side sweeping forward to shield her face. “He was. Perhaps you could tell me, Lady Copeland, why you and Mr. Connellan are so interested. My father died tragically, as you must know—or perhaps you don’t. He wasn’t important in your scheme of things.”

“I didn’t know him, my dear,” Lady Copeland confirmed gently. “I saw him only once in my life, at my late husband’s funeral.”

“I was six at the time,” Jewel answered, just as quietly. “I don’t really remember Dad going, but my mother told me he attended the funeral with a party of cattlemen.”

“What else do you remember?” Keefe Connellan asked.

Jewel turned on him with magnificent disdain. “He never came home.”

In the midst of the bitterness, he suddenly sounded sincere. “I’m sorry.”

“Blair, I wonder if you’d mind leaving us for a few minutes?” Lady Copeland unexpectedly took the initiative. “I would appreciate it.”

Keefe Connellan intervened. “Davina, I don’t think this is the right time. You just fainted and you’re still very pale. I should take you home.”

“Ten minutes, no more.” Lady Copeland threw him a trusting smile.

“Take as long as you want, Lady Copeland,” Blair Skinner said, not meeting Jewel’s eyes. “I have things I can attend to.”

He went to the door, practically colliding with a secretary carrying a silver tea tray. The secretary smiled at Jewel, who went to her and said thank you, then put the tray down on a side table. As Skinner shut the door, Jewel poured Lady Copeland a cup of tea, asking over her shoulder if she took milk.

“No, my dear. No sugar, either, but perhaps today…”

Jewel ladled in two teaspoons and passed the elegant cup and saucer to Lady Copeland, who took it with a steadier hand. “Tell me about yourself,” Lady Copeland invited, gesturing to the armchair Keefe Connellan had vacated. He stood, arms folded, and leaned against Skinner’s desk.

“You’re dying to tell someone, aren’t you,” he said.

“Pardon me, but are you insane?” Jewel let her own hostility spill over.

He stared at her for a few moments, his handsome face drawn into somber lines. “I’m so very sorry, Ms. Bishop, if I’m Goddamn offending you.”

“Keefe!” Lady Copeland endeavored to soothe him. “Maybe she doesn’t—”

“Doesn’t what?” Jewel asked, finding the whole situation bizarre. Yet was it? Now that she was really looking at Lady Copeland, she was swept by a strange sense of familiarity.

“Does your mother live with you?” Lady Copeland asked, sipping her tea, then putting it down.

“My mother lives in Hungerford, North Queensland, where I was raised. Perhaps you can give me a clue, Lady Copeland. I have no idea what you’re getting at.”