Master Of Maramba

“I’ll be flying home tomorrow,” he explained, “I thought we might have dinner tonight if you’re free?”

“That would be lovely.” Such an unexpected saviour!

He had moved right up to her, taking her hand, staring down into her face. “So I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Marvellous. I’m looking forward to it. What time?” She almost begged him to take her with him.

He shot a cuff, and glanced at his watch. “If you could be ready at seven? I haven’t given you much warning.”

“Seven will be fine,” she said, with a quick smile. “I won’t be late.”

“I’ll pick you up.” He turned to look at Glenda who was staring at them both in a kind of open-mouthed fascination. “A pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Russell. You, too, Melissa.” He gave her a smile that might haunt her for the rest of her days. “Catrina has spoken of you both. I must apologise for tearing off but I’m cutting it rather fine as it is. I have to see someone before I go back to the hotel.”

Glenda rose, looking at Carrie as though she was precious. “It’s a great pity you’ll miss my husband,” she said. “He’s working late tonight. You know how it is?”

“My busiest times are the mornings. I’m a cattle man, Mrs. Russell. My home is North Queensland.”

“How exciting!” Glenda was studying him in detail, wondering where on earth Carrie had found this prize.

“It’s a very beautiful part of the world, north of Capricorn,” McQuillan said, towering over the petite, very trim Glenda. “Catrina, would you like to walk me to my car?” he asked with a turn of his head.

She smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Goodbye, then.” He gave the mesmerised women, Glenda and Melissa, a charming salute. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

“That’s great!” The nineteen-year-old Melissa burst out.

They walked in silence out of the house and along the front path bordered by an avenue of palms and farther back an avalanche of azaleas and flowering shrubs intoxicating in their perfume.

“You’ve been crying?” he said.

“I have not.” She knew she sounded nervy.

“Your stepsister doesn’t look in the least like you.”

“Not surprising, I’m said to be the image of my mother.”

“She must have been very lovely.”

“Yes.” Carrie answered simply as though it wasn’t a compliment to herself.

“I can well see your stepmother might give you a hard time,” he remarked rather grimly.

She turned her head in surprise. Glenda had been at her social best. “Didn’t she act welcoming enough?”

“Indeed she did. She was very pleasant. I just happened to spot something in her eyes. Are you all right?” he asked after a minute.

“I’m absolutely fine.” Carrie decided it was time to get right to the point. “Why are you here, Mr. McQuillan? Somehow you’ve given my stepmother and sister the impression we’re…friends.”

Quirky little brackets appeared at the side of his mouth. “Well, it’s hard not to like you, Catrina. And I have to say it was good to find out you’re not nervous of me personally.”

“Jamie told you about my accident,” she said a little fiercely.

“He did.” He opened the front gate for her, marking the beauty of her hair in the golden sunlight. “I wish he had told me before. We’ve become closer than the usual solicitor/client relationship, but he loves you so much he found your pain unbearable. I can understand that.”

“Can you?”

His smile twisted. “You don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone?”

She stared up at him, the brilliance of the sun flecking her eyes with gold sparks. “I’m sorry. What you must think of me! Of course you have. You do.”

“That’s better, Catrina,” he said crisply. “If I were a betting man as well as a horse breeder I wouldn’t put money on whether you and I will get on.”

“I share your alarm,” she said, too agitated to watch her tongue.

“Very wise of you,” he drawled, holding her gaze for a minute. “It seems to me, however, having heard your story, I can help you out of a very difficult situation. At least for a time. You on the other hand might well be able to help me with Regina.”

Carrie drew in a raw ragged breath. “You mean you’re hiring me?”

“What does that bloody woman say to you?” he asked, his scrutiny intense.

For a moment she felt drained of all strength. “I’m not her child, her daughter. I desperately need to get away.”

“So she won’t damage you further.”

“You can’t know,” she protested. “Glenda isn’t all that bad.”

“Isn’t she? James filled me in. Besides, I’ve had a pretty event-packed life. I know a lot more than you, Miss Twenty-Two.”

“A great deal more,” Carrie said. “I’m sorry I’m being rude. You must bring out that side of me.”

“I expect being mad at the world has helped a lot.” He studied her with a mixture of mockery and sympathy.

“It’s not easy to come to terms with the shattering of one’s dreams.”

“My feelings exactly,” he replied with quiet irony. “You can tell me all about it over dinner.” He bent suddenly and, while she felt a rush of pure panic, kissed her cheek.

“What did you do that for?” She tried but couldn’t find more than a shadow of her voice.

“What do you think, Catrina? For the benefit of step-mamma. She hasn’t moved away from the curtains.”

“She’ll tell Dad!”

“I don’t care who she tells. Do you? Besides a peck on the cheek doesn’t mean I’m about to steal Jeff Russell’s little girl.”