Wildfire Encounter Read online

  'Papa has cattle and horses,' Ana enthused as she unfastened her seatbelt. 'Can you ride, Sara?'

  'It's a long time since I've been in a saddle,' she admitted with a smile. 'Perhaps if there's a quiet rather elderly mare available, I might be persuaded to give it a try.'

  'Sometimes Papa lets me ride with him and Bart,' Ana revealed earnestly as she waited for Rafael to unlock the door and secure the steps. 'We don't dress up at all while we're here, and usually Bart cooks steaks on the barbecue outdoors.'

  Sara followed Ana down the few steps and stood apart from Rafael as he retrieved their overnight bags from a nearby hatch, then she turned at the sound of an approaching vehicle and glimpsed a Land Rover in the distance.

  'Here's Bart now,' Ana announced with an infectious grin, and she caught hold of Sara's hand as they moved clear of the plane. 'Oh, it's going to be a super weekend! I love coming here. So does Papa,' the little girl revealed earnestly. 'I think he'd like to live here all the time.'

  Rafael in the role of rancher? It appeared so improbable that Sara almost burst into unrestrained laughter.

  The Land Rover drew to a screeching halt amidst a swirl of dust, and a tall rangy man of indeterminate years swung out from behind the wheel to grasp Rafael's hand before turning to catch Ana up in a bearhug.

  'How are you, angel?'

  'This is Sara,' Ana said quickly. 'Isn't she pretty?'

  The older man's eyes seemed to sum Sara up in a second, then his mouth curved into a wide smile of welcome. 'Indeed she is, young Ana. If you ask me, your papa is a very lucky man.' He extended his hand and Sara felt hers become engulfed within his large one. 'Into the Land Rover with you. I'll grab the luggage.'

  Ana scrambled into the back, leaving Sara no other course but to slip into the front seat between the two men. Rafael draped an arm over the back of the seat, and she was conscious of the clean male smell of him as Bart sent the vehicle speeding swiftly along the track.

  After a few kilometres they veered left, and Sara's eyes widened as they caught sight of neat white-painted fences bounding home paddocks whose green pasture obviously owed much to irrigation. Beyond remote-controlled gates poinciana trees vied with climbing clematis, and there was an abundance of frangipani and boronia to lend a glorious mass of colour to the long low-set house constructed in a pleasing mixture of rough-cast brick and white-painted timbers. Shrubs and carefully-tended native bushes lined the slow-sweeping gravelled driveway, and as the Land Rover slowed and turned in towards the rear entrance a swimming-pool set in a large tiled courtyard came into view. 'Like it?'

  Sara turned at the sound of that deep drawling query and met Rafael's level gaze. 'It's beautiful,' she said simply.

  Ana scrambled out the instant the vehicle came to a halt, and Sara followed suit, accepting Rafael's light grasp at her elbow without demur.

  There was evidence of contrived casual elegance inside the large sprawling house both in design and furnishings. Scatter rugs lay on a slate floor in the lounge, whose focal point was a wide stone fireplace set at one end of the room. Several cushioned cane , chairs and settees were grouped around long glass-topped occasional tables, and there were expensive prints adorning the pale wood-panelled walls. Insect screens covered windows and several glass sliding doors, and as Rafael led the way down a long central hall Sara glimpsed a large well-equipped kitchen, an adjoining dining-room, and counted four bedrooms, two bathrooms, as well as a games room…

  'Bart and his wife have living quarters a mere stone's throw from the swimming pool,' Rafael told her indolently as they moved back into the lounge. He slanted her a faintly mocking glance. 'Joan has prepared salads to go with the steaks Bart is about to barbecue, and the meal should be ready in about half an hour. Meantime, perhaps you'd like a drink?'

  'Thank you,' she acquiesced. 'Something long and cool would be nice.'

  'Can we go riding tomorrow, Papa?'

  'I don't see why not,' he declared tolerantly as he crossed to a nearby liquor cabinet. 'Orange or lemonade, niňa?'

  'Lemonade, please. Oh, look,' Ana cried with delight. 'Here's Algernon.'

  Algernon? Sara tried to hide her amusement, then gave up as a chuckle left her lips at the sight of the small Sydney Silkie scratching frantically at the wide screen door.

  'And Benjamin,' Ana added unnecessarily, for loping up to stand behind the little dog was a huge German shepherd, whose very size and stature made Sara shake her head in amused disbelief.

  'They're friends?'

  'Devoted to each other,' Rafael told her dryly as Ana walked over to release the catch on the door. 'There's a cat or two around somewhere, as well as a few galahs.'

  'And some ducks and chickens and turkeys,' the little girl added, her voice ending in a delighted giggle as both dogs tried to outdo each other for her attention.

  'A real menagerie,' her father concurred as Sara moved towards Ana and the two animals.

  Properly introduced, they lolled on the floor, faces between their respective front paws, obviously at ease with the attention they were receiving.

  Dinner was an informal meal eaten outdoors in the vicinity of the tiled rear courtyard, and was followed by excellent coffee during which the two men became so immersed in business that Sara decided her presence wouldn't be missed.

  Quietly getting to her feet, she made her way indoors to the lounge where Ana was happily ensconced in a chair viewing television.

  The little girl glanced up with a smile and beckoned for Sara to join her, and together they watched a lighthearted comedy series until eight-thirty, when Ana rose from her chair with a huge yawn.

  'Golly, I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed.' She crossed to Sara and gave her a spontaneous hug. 'Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning.'

  Sara closed her arms round the child and bent to kiss her cheek. 'Goodnight, poppet I'll come by soon and tuck you in, if you like.'

  'Yes, please,' Ana said quickly, then she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

  Ten minutes later the little scrap was fighting sleep, her eyelids drooping as she lay in bed listening to a bedtime story, and after a few minutes Sara stood up quietly, switched off the bedside lamp, then she carefully left the room.

  Halfway down the hall she encountered Rafael, and her nerves leapt in jangling discord at the sight of him.

  'Ana is already asleep?'

  'Yes.' She addressed the monosyllable to the second button of his shirt, then gave a startled gasp as her chin was caught between his thumb and forefinger and lifted so that she had no option but to look at him.

  'You've been studiously avoiding me, querida,' he drawled. 'Why?'

  Sara suddenly had difficulty swallowing, and the tip of her tongue edged along hear lower lip in a gesture of nervousness. 'You're imagining things.'

  'No,' he said softly, and his eyes narrowed as her gaze appeared to centre at a point below his own. 'I won't entertain a fit of the sulks, Sara,' he delivered hardily. 'If you have something to say, at least have done with it.'

  'I'm not sulking.' She tried to twist away from him, and failed miserably. 'If you must know, I have a headache, and I'm—tired.' It was nothing less than the truth. She felt emotionally drained, and her head wasn't the only part of her body that ached.

  For a moment he regarded her in thoughtful silence, then he directed quietly, 'Go and slip into bed. I'll bring you something that will help you sleep.'

  Sara didn't trust herself to speak, and with an inarticulate murmur she turned and fled.

  In the large bedroom at the end of the hall she unpacked her overnight bag, then gathering up a nightgown and a few toiletries she made for the adjoining bathroom.

  The warm water eased some of her nervous tension, and towelled dry and deliciously scented with sweet-smelling talc, she emerged into the bedroom, only to come to an abrupt halt at the sight of Rafael standing indolently at ease near the bed, glass in hand, his tall rugged frame outlined against the wall by the subdued light from a nearby l
amp.

  More than anything she wanted to run and hide, but there was nowhere she could go that he wouldn't follow, and moving one foot in front of the other she slowly crossed to the bed.

  'You look all eyes,' Rafael said softly, coming to stand beside her. With unaccustomed gentleness, he lifted the glass to her lips. 'Sip it slowly, Sara.'

  She choked on the first mouthful, gasping as the fiery liquid caught at the back of her throat, and it was several minutes before she managed to regain her breath. 'My God—what is it?'

  'Cognac,' he enlightened dryly. 'Potent, but excellent for calming the. nerves. Pave some more—it will help, I promise you.'

  Sara shook her head in emphatic refusal. 'I'm fine—really,' she assured him, not quite meeting his gaze, and he chided softly.

  'Oh, Sara, what a little liar you are!'

  'I'm not,' she choked, sorely tried, and he chuckled, his eyes dark with wry humour.

  'No? I'll venture your emotions are in such a state of confusion you find it impossible to think straight.' ,

  Goaded, she flung, 'After last night, what do you expect?'

  'Ah, now we have it,' he drawled mockingly, and she retaliated with asperity.

  'You behaved like—like an animal?

  His eyes seemed to darken until they resembled polished onyx, then he said slowly, 'Never having been subjected to such uninhibited intimacies, you were bound to find the experience—illuminating,' he allowed wryly, and she was powerless to prevent the swift tide of colour that swept to her cheeks.

  'I hated every minute of it!'

  'It wasn't hate that made you respond so passionately in my arms.'

  Oh God! The truth of what had happened between them rose to taunt her, and in utter despair she turned and ran, only to be brought to an abrupt halt as hard hands closed over her arms.

  'Little fool! You're more child than woman. Dios!' Rafael swore as she began to struggle. 'A man is torn between spanking and loving you! Maybe I should do both, hm?'

  Forced to meet his angry gaze, she whispered fiercely, 'If you dare lay a hand on me, I swear I'll hate you for ever!'

  'That's a long time, querida' he gibed softly. 'Are you sure you could do it?'

  'Stop it, Rafael!' Her voice was shaky with emotion, and she put up a token resistance as lie pulled her close.

  'I haven't so much as kissed you yet.' His lips brushed against her temple, then slid down towards her jaw to linger at the edge of her mouth before teasing a provocative trail to the hollows at the base of her throat. 'You're incredibly beautiful, do you know that?' he murmured lazily as he slid the straps of her nightgown down over her shoulders, and she gave a choking sob as his mouth began a slow descending path to the burgeoning swell of her breasts.

  The instant he reached one rosy peak she felt a betraying tremor rake through her body, and as she pulled away she gave a gasp of pain as his teeth closed over the tender bud. Scarcely aware of what she was doing, she caught hold of his hair with both hands and pulled hard in an effort to make him desist, then stifled a sob as he began an erotic assault on that erogenous mount.

  Almost in despair she tore her fingers through his hair, tugging at its thickness as she begged him to. stop, then she beat her fists against his shoulders until the crazy ache inside her slowly radiated to her limbs to render them jelly-like and totally malleable.

  At last Rafael lifted his head, and his mouth closed over hers in hungry possession, consuming, punishing, then becoming warm and probing, and so disruptively sensual that she thought she would die from the sheer rapture of it.

  With a husky laugh he swept her into his arms and deposited her among the silky sheets. There was the rustling sound of clothing being discarded, then his hard-muscled body joined hers on the bed, and as he reached for her the tears that had gathered spilled over and ran down to rest near the lobe of each ear before welling and trickling slowly down the edge of her neck to soak the pillow.

  Eventually he tasted them, and his tongue followed each salty patch with such lingering gentleness it only caused the onset of an unceasing flow, so that he groaned and buried his head between her breasts.

  'You certainly choose your moment, querida,' Rafael derided huskily. 'How can a man make love to a woman who silently weeps in his arms?'

  I want more than this, Sara wanted to cry out at him—more than just the physical slaking of sexual desire. I want you to want, need, love me—all of me. What I am, what I feel, the very soul of me. Not just my body, the flesh-and-bone shell you use as a vessel, then discard without thought to the havoc you cause to the delicate fragile core that is my emotional heart. And even that is a traitor, at variance with what my head dictates. I should hate you for the way you wreak out the wanton in me. I see your devotion to Ana, the tenderness, the caring, and I could die just for the want of such a look, a touch; to know I held your heart as she holds yours.

  'Sara?' His eyes were dark and perceptive, and far too discerning for her peace of mind.

  'Don't, Rafael,' she begged shakily. 'Please—not tonight. I don't think I could bear-it.'

  For a long moment he just looked at her, then the edges of his mouth tugged his lips into a twisted smile. Slowly he levered his body away to lie beside her, then pulling the sheet over them both he cradled her close and tucked her head in beneath his chin. 'Go to sleep, child,' he directed quietly, and she felt his breath fan the tendrils of hair at her temple.

  Slowly she began to relax, and gradually the lull of inertia claimed her limbs so that she closed her eyes and gave herself up to sweet somnolent oblivion.

  'What are we going to do this morning, Papa?' Ana questioned as she plunged the last finger of toast into her boiled egg.

  Sara sipped her coffee slowly, and idly watched Rafael fork the last morsel into his mouth from a plate that had contained steak, bacon and eggs. He looked thoroughly at ease and the antithesis of a high-powered city businessman. Nothing could tame the raw virility he projected, the sheer rugged maleness that seemed to exude from every nerve and fibre. Attired in faded jeans and a short-sleeved cotton shirt, he appeared at home with his surroundings, able to pit his skills on the land just as well as he directed his realty conglomerate.

  'Bart is out saddling up the horses,' Rafael responded with a lazy smile.

  'You're going riding? Will you take Sara and me?' Ana's eyes filled with sparkling anticipation as she turned towards Sara. 'You'll come, won't you, Sara?'

  How could she refuse? 'I'd love to,' she accepted, not even thinking about the aching muscles such an exercise would provide. It was years since she had last ridden, but there was consolation in the fact that Rafael wouldn't consider any hard distance riding with Ana along.

  'Lovely!' the little girl breathed with delight. 'It's going to be a fabulous weekend, I just know it!'

  Sara had reservations about that particular remark, but she gave a cheerful smile and drained the last of her coffee. Rafael rose to his feet in one fluid movement, then tucked in his chair and moved towards the door, pausing to make a mocking salute before he disappeared outside.

  'Come on, Sara. We'd better hurry,' Ana said anxiously. It's important to start out early so we get back before the midday heat.' She scrambled up from her chair. 'I'll go and change into jeans. You must, too. I hope you brought some?'

  'I did,' Sara assured her with ease. 'Meet you in the lounge in five minutes, okay?'

  In the bedroom she discarded her skirt and pulled on denim- pants, slipped her feet into serviceable boots, then caught up a hat and moved back down the hall.

  'Let's go, angel,' she said with a grin as Ana came forward to catch hold of her hand. The little girl's affection plucked at her heartstrings, and she felt an unaccustomed envy for the child's uncomplicated approach to life. If only the placing of her own emotions were so simple!

  'Why did you call me "angel"?'

  'Because you are,' Sara told her with a warm, smile, and Ana appeared to assimilate that with considerable thought.

/>   'You're awfully nice, Sara,' she said at last. 'I'm glad Papa married you. I prayed very hard that he would, 'cos I liked you so much.'

  'Oh, Ana!' Sara felt the prick of tears and blinked rapidly before they had the chance to gather and spill over. 'Your papa is a very fortunate man to have you.'

  'Both of us,' Ana corrected quietly and with apparent seriousness. 'We're a family now. You, Papa, and me.' She gave Sara's hand a squeeze. 'Maybe soon you'll have a baby, and that will really be nice. I'd love a brother, or a sister—or perhaps I might have both, one day.'

  Oh, lord! What could she say to that? How could she cry out that she didn't want Rafael's child? An unbreakable link that would chain her to him for life. If there were love between them, their child would be a welcomed, cherished addition, but Rafael was capable of loving no woman, much less her!

  'You're very quiet,' Ana commented with faint puzzlement. 'Have I said something wrong?'

  'No, of course riot,' Sara hastened in assurance, and she looked wildly for something to take the little girl's attention. 'Where are the stables?' She extended an arm towards a group of buildings a short distance to their right. 'Is that them over there?'

  Successfully diverted, Ana launched into an explanation of all the farm buildings and their localities, so that before long they reached the stables where Rafael and Bart gave every appearance of patiently awaiting their arrival.

  On reflection it was an enjoyable morning, for they rode several miles beyond the grazing paddocks towards the north boundary, and with Ana and Bart along it made being in Rafael's company all that much easier. Sara's mount was a placid mare whose pace rarely rose beyond a controlled gallop, and after the first few miles Sara found herself relaxing somewhat.

  Rafael sat in the saddle with an ease born of long experience, and with a broad-brimmed hat worn low over his forehead he looked every inch the rancher. He was so much a man of many faces, Sara found herself just becoming accustomed to one, only to find he had assumed another.