Outback Surrender

She sounded a tiny bit frightened. A man could never assume anything and he was carrying her along too fast. But the male drive to know the female was vibrating through him, subduing her to the extent she seemed at a loss to stop him.

He held her face up to his, his tongue plunging deeper, drinking her in like a draught of wine. Heat sizzled along his veins like a fever, but it was a fever he was eager to suffer.

She was so beautiful. So sensitive. So right. He wanted to lift her. Carry her away. Show her what lovemaking was all about.

His hand moved to the porcelain skin of her throat, where a pulse beat so full and fast it betrayed her. Her delicate neck was flushed with agitation and excitement. His hands were frantic to move lower, to take full possession of her breasts, to find the rosebud nipples swollen in arousal. He forced them to stay where they were, when they wanted to range over her body, stroke naked skin. In a moment he would go too dangerously far when all he’d meant to do was walk her back to the hotel and the safety of her own bed.

This was Shelley Logan he was plying with fierce, insistent kisses and caresses. Had he forgotten? Her body was rippling now, at his every stroke. She was panting a little, leaning into him, her beautiful hair all over her face, his face. He could inhale its clean scent. He knew he had only to apply a little more pressure, but a kind of purity attended her.

He released her so abruptly Shelley was obliged to make a grab for his shirt.

“Brock!” She held tight to him, disoriented, genuinely worried for a moment that she might faint. She didn’t feel solid at all, but floating. Every part of her he had touched was scintillating, aglow.

“I didn’t mean that to happen.” His own speech was rough with emotion.

“I never dreamed you did.” This was far beyond anything she had experienced before.

“But you wanted me to.”

“Did I?” She pressed a hand to her breast. Her heart was beating crazily. “I thought you were going to kiss me until morning.”

“Believe me, I want to,” he said edgily. “But I had to decide against it.”

She tried hard to adjust to his abrupt change of mood. “Would it be too much to ask why?”

“You want the truth?” He stared down at her with intensity. “You’re simply too sweet, too soft, too succulent. And I’m too hungry. I couldn’t have it ending in tears.”

In brief seconds Shelley found the strength to stand clear of his lean, powerful body. “You won’t be getting any tears from me, Brock,” she said, putting a lot of fire into it. “Your innumerable conquests have gone to your head. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed me, anyway, and I’ve managed to survive.”

“Well, was that better or worse than the last time?” He took a step towards her, but she took a corresponding step back.

“Let’s say it was marginally better than shaking hands.”

“That’s why you couldn’t stand by yourself for a few moments?” he taunted. “I don’t want to upset you, but now’s not the time to run off the rails—even if I’d like nothing more. My future is under threat.”

“Not from me,” she rejoined.

He gave a wince. “That was as sharp as a slap.”

“You deserved it!” Finally she managed to subdue her hair. “Let’s forget about it, shall we? I know I can.”

His laugh was mocking. “Don’t get mortally offended, but I don’t think you’ll find it as easy as all that.”

“Won’t I?” She put out a flat hand and pushed him in the chest. “I’m a very disciplined person, Brock Tyson, you devil.”

“Really? A devil?” He locked his fingers around her wrist. “Think about it. I could have taken that further.”

“I bet you do that a lot!”

“Well, tonight I just couldn’t handle it.” He spoke with so much self-mockery she blushed. “Have you any idea how beautiful you are?”

This was a man who could melt a woman without laying a hand on her. “You’re the one having difficulties, not me,” she countered. “Are you going to let go of me?”

“No.” He raised her hand lingeringly to his mouth. “But I am going to walk you back safely to the pub. Isn’t that the decent thing?”

“Next you’re going to tell me I’m different to every other girl you’ve ever met,” she said tartly.

“Well, of course you are.” He sounded amused. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever kissed who doesn’t keep her eyes closed.”

CHAPTER THREE

SHELLEY drove right up to the front steps of the homestead, trying to forget just how long and hot the trip had been. Her big concern on the journey had been dust storms. They were inevitable in a time of drought, when the wind picked up the Interior’s precious top soil and dumped millions of tonnes of it a thousand miles away in the ocean. She’d lived through quite a few dust storms, some of considerable severity. They desperately needed rain, but though the whole Outback prayed, they weren’t getting any. The skies above her were a hard enamelled cobalt with not a single cloud on the horizon.

If it hadn’t been for the permanent waterholes and billabongs on the station she’d have had to toss the whole idea of running Outback Adventures out of the window. The bores served their purpose, but in the Dry they sent fountains of near boiling water high into the air.

She wished there was someone there to help unload. There was no use hoping Amanda would help her. Amanda—and she was seriously disgusted with her sister about this—was bone-lazy. In the heat she acted like wax to a flame. It was a real con too, the way Amanda always complained of her bad back and her fears of hurting it.

Amanda found any way there was of avoiding physical toil, though she spent extravagant amounts of time lying around waiting for life to happen. She didn’t in fact get out of bed before ten. She wrote songs. Some were good. She played the piano and guitar, both well. Shelley herself had never qualified for music lessons.

“Why do you ask when you know money’s tight?” her father had always said, turning away as though he couldn’t bear to look at her too long. As if all she evoked was memories of her twin.

Well, at least she’d had one heck of an experience last night. A blazing bonfire of the senses. Brock Tyson was dangerous, his sexual prowess legendary. If she hadn’t been certain of it before, she was now.

And what of Philip? Philip had gone out of his way to suggest there was a romance between them. She would have said he had seemed driven to do it, probably for Brock’s benefit, just to let his cousin know she was taken. Not that Brock had taken the slightest heed of the warning, if that was what it had been. It might even have been an act of sheer devilment.

The fact remained that everything was different now—a violent shift in their relationship. Not that she’d ever been one of Brock Tyson’s girls. She’d still been a student, years younger than him. And now he had to go and pique her by telling her he wasn’t looking for involvement. The cheek of him!