Her Outback Knight

“The original boy scout.” But again, she didn’t sound sarcastic; she sounded—ack—breathless. Feminine. Where had all her clever lines disappeared to? “I owe you one.”

Why had she said that? It was a blatant invitation for the usual male sleaze to head her way as he came onto her….

Oh, get real, this is Jim Haskell! He wouldn’t know how to be sleazy.

As if on cue, he grinned, those big, chocolate eyes of his filled with the smile no woman could ever think of as insinuating. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You’ll find a way to give back one day. You couldn’t stand to be in anyone’s debt for long.”

She gasped in a short breath, and choked on a laugh, but she didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t hit on her, or in amazement that he’d read her like a book. And the honesty she rarely showed with men came out of hiding. “You’re right. How about—” Oh, man, was she really going to say this? Without even knowing she did it, she’d reached for his hand, her fingers twining through his. “How about dinner tonight?”

She held her breath, waiting…her mind spinning. Had she really asked a man out? Asked Jim out?

Please don’t say no. Look at me and see this is a never-before event for me….

The rush of exhilaration filled her, just thinking he might say yes. She didn’t question why it was so important to her, knew only that it was. Staring up at him, she saw the change. The tiny frown gathered on his brow; backing off before she released his hand, he unintentionally jerked her toward him. “Sorry, but my family’s here—” waving at the sea of people off to the left “—and we’re heading out for a family celebration. First alma mater in the family, and all that. I’m sure your family’s here, too. Bad timing. Maybe another time, eh? You have a good one, Danni.”

With a grin and a wave he walked away, leaving Danni staring after him.

CHAPTER ONE

Thommo’s Steak House, Bathurst, two years later

FINALLY, TWO YEARS AFTER the rest of her class, his best friend had graduated—and all her friends and family, including her husband and daughter, were here to celebrate the event.

After years of thinking Laila was the woman for him, Jim had wondered how he’d feel, seeing her as another man’s wife, a mother, and pregnant again.

Now he knew.

The last flare of useless wishes and longings had ended three years ago, when he’d met Jake Sutherland, and known he was the man for her—so he’d helped them come together. His smile tonight was one of genuine joy for her happiness. He wished Laila the best in life, as he did for his sisters—and he knew she had it.

If he wondered when it’d be his turn, when he’d find a woman he truly cared for from the heart, who could love him back…well, that was natural, right? He was from a big, happy family, and he’d always wanted that kind of love and stability for himself.

A shame all he’d got the past few years was the kind of fun-time girls who filled hours, not his life or heart. Why was it that the women who chased him were lightweights, and the women he really wanted, the kind of girls he could take home to meet the family, always saw him as a brother?

“I’m out. I’m getting some real action.”

With a tiny start, he remembered he’d brought Shana tonight. He almost rolled his eyes at her terminology—Shana was twenty-two, but had an addiction to Hollywood teen flicks. He’d only brought her because she’d never been to Bathurst, and she’d begged to come.

Nice kid, but a lightweight, as always.

“Sorry, Shana. I guess it’s rough when you don’t know anyone,” he offered, knowing it sounded lame.

Her pretty, over-made-up face was pouting. “Even rougher when your date can’t take his eyes off another girl,” she muttered, for his ears alone.

Jim frowned. “It’s her night. She’s my best friend, and graduated two years after the rest of us. It’s only right she gets the attention. For Pete’s sake, she’s a married woman!”

Shana’s brows lifted. “Who, the brunette across from you?”

A lightning-fast streak ran through him, a frisson of something—he didn’t know what. Slowly, almost disbelieving, he turned around.

Danni Morrison was sitting across from him.

He’d been looking at Danni? Danni with the smart mouth and the bitter disgust of all men? Why on earth would he be looking at her?

Funny, but now he was looking, it felt natural—as if he’d been watching her so long that she’d slid into his comfort zone.

No. He could never call anything about Danni comfortable. Especially not the reaction his body was having to her soft, haunting face. More than pretty, not quite lovely, but delicate, dark and wistful, he knew if he ever had to describe her to an artist, he could have recalled each feature. He could have done so any time in the past ten years.

Why, he didn’t know; she’d never treated him with anything but disdain and sarcasm. After ten years he knew almost nothing about her—she’d never let any guy close enough to her to know her. What he did know of her made him certain she wasn’t the sort of woman he’d want in his life. He’d always hated the kind of mordant sarcasm she used as a protective shell around her.

Yet, he could drink in her face all night and never tire of it.

Had he been staring at her all night without being aware of it? It seemed ridiculous to him, yet he was doing it now, and it didn’t feel like the first time.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” came the quiet, mocking voice in his ear. “I’d never have thought a human battlefield was your type. I’m off to find a nightclub. I’ll get my own way back home.”

Shana picked up her bag and walked out. Jim knew he should call her back, or at least offer to drive her somewhere, but his manners had deserted him. He was too stunned by the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at the woman across from him.

Danni shifted on her seat and frowned at her plate of baked vegetables as if she sensed his gaze, or his inner disquiet. Or maybe it was the steak house getting to her…if she was still a strict vegetarian as she’d been during their university days.

She was as ethereal as she’d always been. He’d have thought almost two years in Europe, working, touring and visiting her German relatives would have fattened her up a bit, but she still had that waiflike look to her—the touch of faerie. Dark hair like a waving river down her back, fathomless caramel-brown eyes and restless hands; her features so delicate she seemed lost inside her gentle prettiness.

Until she opened her mouth, that is. Then the notion that she was a delicate woman in need of male protection was blasted apart. She could give an armoured tank lessons on keeping up protective shells. She scared the living daylights out of any man who ventured near her without their defensive weapons raised and ready.

Don’t patronise me had been her favourite phrase, among a hundred lines designed to keep the barbed-wire fence around her space from being breached.

“Have I got gravy on my nose, Haskell?”

Jim snapped out of his reverie with Danni’s withering tone. “No, just the usual ice around your heart,” he said without thinking—and he could have cut out his tongue, when he saw her reaction. Not that she paled, or flinched; nothing so obvious for the iron maiden. Her eyelids flickered, that was all; but in that moment, a flash of vulnerability shone in her eyes.

Hurt.

Then he remembered, knew why he couldn’t stop watching her tonight—and why she was so aware of his attention, instead of ignoring him as she always had before.

Two years ago, at their graduation celebration. Even in the midst of his family’s joy at his gaining the cap and scroll—the first alumni in his poor country family—he’d missed his best friend like crazy, and wandered around the hall as if he’d somehow be able to find Laila. Knowing it was stupid, he’d been unable to stop, feeling more and more lost and alone. He’d missed having someone to talk to, to laugh with. He could have taken a date—one of several, he’d always been popular—but none of them were Laila, and that day had been too important to waste on what he privately termed a “fluffy girl.”

Then he’d seen Danni in the middle of a conversation with one of the many veterinary surgeons who’d come looking for new talent. The man, at least twenty years older than Danni, had been sending out signals impossible to ignore…and Danni’s wistful, pretty face had grown more derisive by the moment.

He didn’t doubt her ability to handle the jerk; but by the look on her face, he’d known whatever she’d been about to say would have destroyed her career chances for years to come.

And the dirty slimebag was touching her.

Why, he still had no idea, but before he knew it, he’d strolled up as if she’d been the one he’d been looking for all night, wrapped his arm around her waist and claimed her as his woman with a cheerful grin. He’d kissed her with the casualness of long-term intimacy—a kiss that seemed to reroute his brain circuits for a few seconds—and then he’d pulled himself together, and extolled her talents as a veterinary surgeon. Within seconds, he’d got the man back onto the strictly professional path.

He’d expected no thanks for his intervention—maybe perhaps more of a verbal assault about how “sisters are doing it for themselves” from miniature Sherman tank Danni Morrison—but instead of either, she’d given him an amazed, sweet, wondering look…the look of a woman who had finally seen him as a man.

An attractive man, a man whose touch had made her feel something.

He’d never dreamed of getting that kind of look from Danni, had never wanted it from her, either. At least, he hadn’t realised how amazing it was to be a man wanted by a woman like Danni until that moment. Seeing her battle-weary face soften into radiance so strong it was terrifying…and it was because of him.