The Cattle King's Bride

“Of course.” Sarina went to the other side of the bed, pouring a little water into a spouted cup. Fears were rising in her. Gregory could well die before Dev and Amelia arrived. She prayed their flight hadn’t been delayed. Noel Devereaux had allowed Dev the use of his plane to pick Amelia up. That had been a generous gesture. Gregory and Noel Devereaux had shared a complex past. They had never been friends.

Gregory Langdon was able to swallow a few drops of water. A little dribbled down his cleft chin. Sarina picked up a tissue and very gently dabbed at his chin and dry, cracked lips.

Gregory! Her gaze rested on him. She had thought him immortal. She bent to kiss his sunken cheek. She’d had feelings for Michael, the man she had chosen as her rescuer, but they were as nothing compared to the feelings Gregory Langdon had been able to arouse in her just by looking. Many years older, he was nevertheless the man who had taken full possession of her heart. One didn’t choose these things. They just happened. She and Gregory weren’t the first to be taken victims by fate. Then, as Gregory had begun to age, she had found her eyes resting on another. She had been shocked at that point—how bad could things get? She’d been desperate not to register her feelings, her lust, in her eyes. She loved Gregory. But her body had played a bitter trick on her. Her body needed a young man. She had begun to crave Gregory’s grandson. Dev, who was bonded to her own daughter.

It had been hell locked up in close proximity to this extraordinary young man forbidden to her. Sometimes she had tortured herself with the notion that Gregory knew. She had been really frightened after the monumental row Gregory and Dev had. They were always rowing about something or other, but that time it had to have been really serious. Dev had left.

“Sit with me, Sarina,” Gregory was whispering to her, snapping her back to the present. He was clearly in extreme pain.

Sarina drew up a chair. “They’ll be here soon,” she said in a voice of gentle solace. “I hate to see you suffering, Gregory. You don’t want me to call the nurse?”

“No!” The words leapt from his throat, almost as forceful as in the old days. “It’s you I want, Sarina. You opened up a whole new world for me. Life might have been perfect if we had met at another time, but we got it all wrong. I got too old for you, didn’t I, my dark angel?”

She felt a flicker of fear. She was relying on her inheritance to escape. “No, Gregory.”

He ignored that untruth. “I sensed it before it happened,” he rasped. “But it’s all in the past. I was totally out of order when I turned on my grandson. Half off my head with jealousy. That feeling of shame has never gone away. I was jealous, so jealous, even of my own grandson.”

Fear was unfolding rapidly in her chest. “Don’t let’s talk about it now, Gregory,” Sarina begged.

Gregory took a huge, shallow breath. “No. No point. Stay with me, Sarina.”

“You know I will. To the end,” Sarina vowed.

The flight to Kooraki took much longer than expected. Takeoff had been delayed as a backlog of light aircraft was given clearance. A station hand drove them up to the house. Mel felt so sick and nervous she stumbled up the short flight of stone steps that led to the broad veranda.

Dev took hold of her arm, rubbing it gently. “I’m here, Mel.” He looked down at her, his expression grave. “We can handle this together.”

“What if we’re too late, Dev?” She stared up at him, drawing on his strength.

“We did our best. Even my grandfather can’t dictate his time of departure from the planet.”

They had barely reached the entry to the Great Hall with its bold chequerboard marble floor when Sarina came at a rush towards them. Her olive skin was close to marble-white. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, unnoticed and unchecked. The astonishing thing was that she looked furious. “He’s gone!” she cried, wringing her hands and making no attempt to embrace her daughter. “Whatever delayed you?” Her voice resounded in the double-storey space, hoarse with grief and open condemnation.