“If I thought going to bed with you would get you out of my system I’d say yes.”

“You know better,” Ryan growled, unable to stay silent.

Lifting her head, Judy gave him a troubled look. “I know. But neither am I prepared to marry you. I’m not prepared to marry anyone. It isn’t personal.”

“The hell it isn’t. Whatever you need or want, tell me and I’ll make sure you have it.”

“What I want is to stay single.”

“What you want?”

She heard the disbelief in his tone. “All right, what I need. If you truly feel about me the way you claim, you’ll try to understand.”

“I’ll never understand,” he stated. “And I will do everything in my power to change your mind.”

Deadly Intent
Valerie Parv

www.millsandboon.co.uk

VALERIE PARV

With twenty million copies of her books sold, including three Waldenbooks bestsellers, it’s no wonder Valerie Parv is known as Australia’s queen of romance and is the recognized media spokesperson for all things romantic. Valerie is married to her own romantic hero, Paul, a former crocodile hunter in Australia’s tropical north.

These days he’s a cartoonist and the two live in the country’s capital city of Canberra, where both are volunteer zoo guides, sharing their love of animals with visitors from all over the world. Valerie continues to write her page-turning novels because they affirm her belief in love and happy endings. As she says, “Love gives you wings, romance helps you fly.” Keep up with Valerie’s latest releases at www.silromanceauthors.com.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Ryan liked seeing her in a dress, Judy Logan thought as she held the garment against her and checked the bedroom mirror. He would appreciate the way the sea-foam color complemented the sky blue of her eyes and the highlights she’d had put through her ash-blond hair, newly cut in an urchin style with strands feathered around her face.

He’d approve of the way the garment’s draping neckline made the most of her long neck and modest cleavage, the slinky short skirt skimming her legs. Privately, she thought they were her best feature, shapely and muscular thanks to an active lifestyle.

Seeing herself as more Australian stock horse than thoroughbred, she usually threw on whatever suited her schedule, not much caring about the result.

Realizing what she was doing, she flung the dress onto the bed, where it pooled innocently. Why did she care what Ryan thought of her appearance? He was only one of the boys her father and mother had fostered throughout most of Judy’s life.

After she was born, they’d been unable to have more children although they’d desperately wanted a large family. Her father still treated her like fragile china, although these days he was the frail one with a heart that threatened to stop beating at any moment.

She frowned at her mirror image. Des Logan was the reason she was going out with Ryan tonight. Not on a date, but to decide how best they could help her father. Des wouldn’t accept money, not that Ryan had much to offer. Of all the Logan foster sons, he was the least successful. He supported himself doing casual jobs on cattle stations throughout the Kimberley. Nothing wrong with that, but by Ryan’s age most men had something more substantial going for them.

If Judy hadn’t run across Ryan unexpectedly when she flew supplies to a remote Kimberly cattle station where he’d been working, he would still be estranged from them all. He hadn’t wanted to live with the Logans in the first place, she recalled. He’d claimed he was doing fine looking after himself. According to him, losing his mother and having no idea where his father was didn’t mean he needed help to run his life.

At the memory, Judy felt reluctant admiration sweep through her. As a boy he’d lived on his own for almost a year after his mother’s death, convincing the authorities that a friend of hers was his caregiver when, in fact, he’d had nobody. When the truth came out, he’d been dragged literally kicking and screaming into the Logan household.

Then he and Judy had spotted each other. Like a wild buffalo transfixed by a car’s headlights, he’d stopped fighting Des and stared at his new foster sister.

Just stared.

He’d looked her up and down with the insolence of a grown man. Too thin from eating whatever he could rustle up, he’d been lanky and awkward, but his eyes—how she remembered those midnight blue eyes—had been alight with masculine interest. She’d known he liked what he saw long before he’d told her he was in love with her and would marry her one day.

A shiver shook her. What had such a stripling known of love? She’d known even less. Oh, she’d been aware of the facts of life. You couldn’t grow up on a million-acre cattle station and remain ignorant for long. But the chemistry between male and female had been a compelling mystery.

Nevertheless, they’d both felt its power. But with him being only fourteen then and her newly into her teens, she hadn’t had a clue what her feelings signified or how to deal with them. Des Logan had solved the problem by calling Ryan into his study and ordering him to get any foolish ideas out of his head. Ryan had retorted that nobody told him how to run his life and he was going to marry Judy one day, with or without Des’s approval.

Neither of them had been aware of Judy hunting for a tennis ball in the bushes under Des’s office window. To her, it had seemed romantic to have a young man defy her father over her. These days, she knew Des had been right. They had been mere children, their feelings the result of overactive teenage hormones, nothing more.

Less than a year later, Ryan had run away, eluding Des’s and the authorities’ efforts to find him. Later Ryan told Judy that he’d lied about his age in order to get work as a jackeroo on remote cattle stations.

He hadn’t stayed anywhere for long, she’d learned when they’d met again. She hadn’t been able to tell if he was pleased to see her or not. His manner had been surly and distant, although he was obviously a world away from the difficult teenager she’d once known.

For one thing, he was all man. Taller, fuller in body and so broad-shouldered she’d had to look twice to assure herself he really was Ryan Smith. His red-gold hair and hair-trigger temper had convinced her. There couldn’t be two men with that blend of startling good looks and fiery temperament in the Kimberley.

Since their reunion three years before, she’d persuaded him to return to Diamond Downs a number of times, although he’d never stayed as long as she’d hoped he would. She looked forward to his visits, but no more than those of her other foster brothers, she assured herself. She blamed the fact that Ryan’s arrival made her heart beat faster on his dynamic personality and raw masculinity, enough to turn any woman on.

Judy wasn’t immune to male appeal. She relished her physicality, whether piloting her plane, mustering cattle on horseback or enjoying a relationship to the full, provided a man accepted that she could want him without needing him. She couldn’t imagine Ryan playing by this rule. He was the type to want more than she was prepared to give, so she kept a safe emotional distance.

Ryan and her father got along tolerably well these days in spite of the undercurrent simmering between them. After all this time, Judy wouldn’t allow that it had anything to do with her. More likely, the mistrust mirrored two bulls in the same paddock. They were similar in temperament, neither giving an inch.

Pleasing Ryan with feminine fripperies should be the last thing on her mind. To prove it, she cast the dress a withering look and flounced out of the homestead. Passing the bunkhouse and cottages occupied by the dwindling number of staff still on the station payroll, she found him in the hard-baked earth area used for car parking.

The only sign of him was a pair of jeans-clad legs protruding from under the ancient car he’d jacked up and supported on blocks. Long, long legs betrayed his height as over six feet. His scuffed R. M. Williams boots were a size eleven at least, and she felt a blush starting as she remembered the supposed connection between men and large feet.

Automatically she frowned at the sight of tools scattered over the ground. As a bush pilot, she hated to see good tools mistreated. Evidently Ryan’s drifter ways extended to the care of his equipment.

She hunkered down in time to see him lower the transmission pan in both hands and tilt it to spill the fluid into a drain tray beside him. “Need a hand?”

Without looking he said, “You can pass me the awl so I can get this grommet out.”

Surveying the tangle of tools around her, she said, “What patch of dirt do you suggest I look in?”

He angled his head to stare at her and she suppressed a shiver. Fourteen years on, his eyes still had the power to mesmerize. They were so dark and deep-set that looking into them was like looking into a bottomless pool. The sun was low and shone under the car, turning his hair to flame. The devil would look like this if she caught him working on a car, she thought.

“By your left foot,” he said shortly.

She blinked to banish the vision. Devil, indeed. He was nothing but a pain in the—awl. He didn’t care for anyone or anything but himself. Why he was bothering to talk about Des’s problems with her, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if there were an inheritance at stake.

Without telling the rest of the family, her father had mortgaged Diamond Downs to a neighbor, Clive Horvath, who’d been Des’s best friend for most of their lives. Clive had intended to forgive the debt but Des had insisted on proper documentation, never suspecting that Clive would be thrown from a horse and killed less than a year after they shook hands on the deal. Now his son Max, owned the neighboring property and had made it clear he intended to collect on the mortgage.

It would be bad enough if Max only wanted the money, but he had his sights set on a diamond mine Judy’s great-grandfather was said to have found on Logan land. Jack Logan had disappeared before revealing the exact location of his find to anyone except the elders of the local indigenous people. Their descendants refused to talk about it, believing Jack’s spirit haunted the site.

At considerable risk to themselves, her foster brothers, Tom and Blake, had recently narrowed down the location to an area of Cotton Tree Gorge. But both men had fiancées now, and lives they couldn’t neglect indefinitely. So it was up to her and Ryan to finish the job before their neighbor did it for them. Some sixth sense told her they were close to finding the mine. All she had to do was persuade Ryan to help her before either Max Horvath’s own financial woes spelled the end of Diamond Downs or the fast-approaching wet season made the search impossible.

Spotting the tool he needed, she handed it to him. “I’ve never seen a car held together by rust before.”

“It goes, that’s all I ask.”

“Dad won’t mind if you use one of the station cars while you’re here.”

“I’d mind.”

“You would.” Not sure he’d heard the sotto voce comment, she watched him work the point of the tool up inside the filter neck, pushing it against the outside of the grommet. “Want a hammer to drive that in?”

“I’ll manage, thanks.”

At least he’d said thanks. But did such a puny gesture merit the surge of pleasure rippling through her? This would have to stop. Ryan had barely been at Diamond Downs for two days and already she could hardly think straight around him.

She was a bush pilot, for pity’s sake. She flew solo around the outback in a single-engine plane she largely maintained herself. Turning to jelly because of the way a man looked at her was for females in frilly clothes who spent hours at the hairdresser primping to impress.

She could write off the blond highlights as an aberration. But what about the slinky dress? Thank goodness she’d decided against wearing it tonight on their nondate.

Ryan walked his feet out from under the car and uncoiled disturbingly close to her. For a giddy moment, she thought he meant to touch her face till she saw the oily washer clutched in his fingers. “If you want to help, how about cleaning this?” he asked.

With an inward sigh, she accepted the magnet from the transmission pan and hunted among the tools for a scraper to clean it with. She welcomed the excuse to avoid his gaze, afraid he’d see into her soul.

What an idiot, she thought as her fingers closed around a putty knife. By the time she straightened, Ryan was sluicing the drain pan clean, careful not to spill any of the residue onto the ground. Could his preference for an old car be on environmental grounds? she wondered.

She was tempted to ask but he’d already slid back under the car and she heard the sound of a gasket being scraped off the bottom of the transmission.

Glad of something to occupy her hands, she set to work scraping the magnet clean. “I’ll say this for you, you’re thorough.”

“Might as well do the job right,” he agreed, his rich, deep voice muffled by his position. “One thing your dad taught me.”

She replaced the magnet in the pan and pushed it under the car to him. “So you admit he did some things right?”

“Never said he didn’t. Your folks meant well.”

She couldn’t resist. “Am I hearing an admission that you liked being a Logan?”

“I’m not a Logan and don’t want to be.”

“But you just said…”

He ducked out from under the car and swung himself upright. “You know perfectly well why I never wanted to be a Logan. That hasn’t changed.”

Because of her, she heard it in his voice. “Everything else has,” she said, pushing away the confusing feelings the thought aroused.

“Everything but you.”

She shook her head. “I’ve grown up.”

“You think I haven’t noticed?”

She knew he had. The awareness was in every look he gave her.

“I know you don’t think much of me,” he said. Before she could issue an empty denial, he went on, “Blake has his crocodile farm, Tom got his wish to become a shire ranger and Cade’s photos are published all over the world. While I dropped out of school, drive a beat-up old car and work where and when I can.”

She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “None of that matters to me.”

“It’s who you are inside that counts,” he quoted her father. “He also said even a saint has to be able to educate his kids and put food on his family’s table.”

At the thought of Ryan’s children, her knees softened and she rested a palm against the sun-heated metal to steady herself. “Are you sure you’ve got things the right way around?”

Although she’d thought about it often enough, she hadn’t meant to come out and say it. His eyes clouded as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Too late to wish she’d never opened her mouth. “Being a no-hoper is a good excuse to avoid settling down.”

“You think I live the way I do to avoid taking on responsibility?”

“Don’t you?”

He made a harshly dismissive sound deep in his throat. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

She started to turn away. “You’re right, I don’t.” And if she were wise, she would keep it that way.

His fingers clamped around her wrist leaving a smear of oil like a handcuff. “Such slim wrists,” he said unexpectedly. “Beats me how you pack so much muscle into such a slight body.”

If looks could kill, he would have been ash where he stood. “Aren’t you afraid of snapping such fragile bones?”

At her sarcastic tone, his mouth tightened. “I know precisely how much pressure I’m applying.”

So did she. Her whole body quivered with the awareness of his touch. Trying to shake him off would only betray his effect on her, so she schooled herself to stillness. “I prefer wiry to slight.”

He eased his thumb over her pulse point, making her wish she could slow the frantic beat by willpower alone. “Wiry, then. I like a woman with good muscle tone,” he said.

As if she kept herself fit to please him. “You didn’t always have so much muscle of your own to throw around,” she snapped.

Cruel, she told herself when she saw his dark lashes veil those memorable eyes. “Malnutrition does that to you,” he said.

She placed her hand over the one holding her. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled-for. I shouldn’t have reminded you.”

He looked down at their joined hands and an odd light flickered over his rugged features. “You didn’t have to. Some things you never forget.”

Her sigh gusted between them. “Ryan, why do we strike such sparks off each other?”

“I’m not complaining, if the alternative is indifference.”

He could make her mad as hell, dizzy with laughter and aching with other things she refused to name. The one thing she could never be around him was indifferent. “Are you saying you like it when we fight?”

“It’s communication, isn’t it?”

Her nod conceded his point. “Not very constructive communication,” she observed.

He released her hand slowly, as if reluctant to do so. “I don’t know. We’re getting the transmission filter changed.”

Other things were changing between them, too, although they were harder to pinpoint. She fell back on the superficial. “At this rate, it will be dinnertime before the job’s done.”

In tacit agreement, he dropped to the ground and shimmied back under the car and she heard the sound of bolts being tightened. Anticipating what he’d need next, she hunted around for a long-necked funnel and the AFT fluid. By the time he stood up again and was ready to let the car down, she had them handy.

She watched as he fed fluid into the filler tubes. His moves were sure and capable. She’d also seen him handle a horse and rope cattle with the best of them. “Why haven’t you bought your own land?”

“Didn’t suit me.”

“To be tied down?”

Fluid slopped over the funnel, earning a muttered oath. “Have I ever questioned how you run your life?”

“Not for a long time.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I wasn’t criticizing. I care about what happens to you.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

She was glad his attention was on his task so that he didn’t see her recoil in distress. “What makes you think I don’t?”

He turned his head, his gaze sharpening. “If you did, you’d ask what’s going on in my life instead of constantly jumping to conclusions.”

“You could simply tell me.”

“I could.”

But he wouldn’t, she heard. Annoyed at being put on the defensive, she examined her conscience. Had she jumped to conclusions about him? Perhaps he had a million dollars stashed away and chose to knock around the outback for pleasure, like the American billionaire she remembered reading about. Getty? Rockefeller? One of them, anyway.

Somehow, she doubted it. “Ryan,” she said on impulse, “If you were really rich, would you use your money to help Dad save Diamond Downs?”

“He wouldn’t permit it,” he said, avoiding the question.

At his signal, she got into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. “But you would be willing to try?”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

She pulled the gearshift down through each gear in turn, allowing the fresh fluid to circulate through the transmission. “You do know we have less than a month to either pay off Max Horvath or find Great-grandpa’s diamond mine?”

Ryan pulled out the transmission dipstick and inspected it critically. “According to Blake and Cade, Max is in financial trouble up to his neck and his creditors are pouring on the pressure. From what I’ve heard about Max’s character, he could be even more dangerous with his back to the wall. But the wet season is going to make it hard to find anything in the area Blake and Jo mapped out.”

She nodded. “Especially if the mine is where they think it is, underground near Cotton Tree Gorge.” Jo Francis was a journalist who’d been working with Blake on a story when she’d tumbled into a hidden valley trying to elude one of Max Horvath’s henchmen. The ancient rock paintings they’d noted were placed high above the valley floor, indicating the dangerously high levels the creek flowing through it could reach during the monsoon rains. Diamond Downs had already tasted the fury of the rains soon to come, and the wet season still hadn’t started in earnest.

She could only pray the Wet would hold off long enough for her and Ryan to look for the mine. If they didn’t find anything…resolutely she pushed the thought of failure out of her mind. Not only her father’s life, but the only thing besides Des’s family that mattered to him—his land—was at stake. They couldn’t afford to fail.

Ryan swiped the dipstick with a clean rag and replaced it, then pulled it back out. “Close to full?” she asked.

“A quarter inch away from the full mark, close enough,” he agreed.

She got out as he began to check the radiator hoses and clamps. For a beat-up old car, it was in surprisingly good running order, she noted. Under her hand the engine had positively purred. Why drive a car that looked as if it was about to fall apart at any moment, yet keep it practically in racing condition? Another piece of the Ryan puzzle, she decided.

She leaned on her arms on the car body, angling in under the hood to watch him work, finding more enjoyment than she wanted to in his easy movements.

The thought disturbed her enough to say, “Why don’t we decide right now what we should do about finding the mine. Save us having to go out to eat later.”

His wry look raked her. “Jumping to conclusions again, Judy? Don’t you think I can afford to buy you dinner?”

From the look of him, a hamburger would stretch his resources. Then she considered what he’d said about asking first. “Can you?”

“I may have trouble servicing the bank loan, but I’ll manage somehow.”

Masking her irritation at the blatant mockery in his tone, she smiled. “Then we’d better find the diamonds soon.”

He replaced the dipstick and reached to close the hood, forcing her to jump out of the way. “Not on my account.”

“Won’t you feel better knowing Dad’s future is safe?”

“Give me some credit. Des deserves health and happiness more than most men. But not because I’m indebted to him for rescuing me. I was fine as I was.”

And what was he now? “Where do you call home?” she asked on impulse.

He looked surprised at the question. “You sound as if you don’t think I have one.”

Something else she hadn’t thought to ask. What additional surprises lay behind his inscrutable facade? “You’ve never mentioned one.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

Anger bubbled through her and she fisted her hands on her hips. “Is it too much to expect one straight answer out of you?”

He seemed to collapse in on himself. “You’re right, there’s no reason you shouldn’t know. I have a home, an old pearling master’s cottage in Broome.”

She knew her eyebrows had risen. Such heritage properties weren’t cheap to acquire or maintain. “I’d like to see it sometime.”

“I don’t spend very much time there.”

As soon as the words left his mouth and he saw her expression become shuttered, Ryan regretted being so blunt. It wasn’t her fault that she’d haunted his thoughts since his teens, making a mockery of his vow to rely only on himself and not allow anyone to get to him emotionally ever again.

In the three years since she’d shown up at a station where he was working, he’d returned to Diamond Downs only a handful of times, the last being four months ago, and he knew she was the reason. Around Judy he felt too much, wanted too much. On previous visits he’d managed to keep his feelings in check. This time, perhaps because Des’s health was declining and Diamond Downs faced such an uncertain future, Ryan had felt his resistance slipping.

The solution was as obvious as it was appealing. Have a fling with Judy and get her out of his system once and for all. He’d be doing them both a favor, he reasoned. She insisted she was more interested in flying planes than in serious relationships, so easing the tension between them with a no-strings affair should suit her, too. Afterward they’d be free to get on with their separate lives.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I am away a lot, but when I’m home I’ll gladly show you around,” he said.

“Deal,” she said, and smiled at him.

The change transformed her into the woman who’d filled his dreams since he was fourteen years old. Streaked with grease and dressed in slim-legged jeans, dusty elastic-sided boots and a high-cut T-shirt that revealed an inch of golden midriff with every move, she looked sensational.

He knew only too well why every other woman who’d crossed his path on his travels around the Kimberley had left him cold. However beautiful, pliant or eager for his company they’d been, they weren’t Judy Logan.

How many women would choose to spend an afternoon working on a car, as competently as Ryan himself? If she wanted him to join her hunting for a diamond mine he wasn’t convinced had ever existed, he’d be with her every step of the way.

He respected Des Logan enough to want to see him restored to health. And his intended fling with Judy would go more smoothly if she had the security the diamonds would provide, so it was what Ryan wanted, as well.

“You’re staring,” she said softly.

He felt as if molten metal were pouring along every vein, pooling in his groin. “If you had my vantage point, you’d stare, too.”

She shifted from one foot to the other as if the compliment made her uncomfortable. “Look, maybe this dinner date isn’t such a good idea.”

“It isn’t a dinner date—it’s a strategy meeting.” And he was Robinson Crusoe.

“And that’s all?”

He made the time-honored gesture. “Cross my heart.”

“Then perhaps Cade should come with us.”

Now there Ryan drew the line. “He ought to stay here in case your father needs anything.”

She caught her lower lip between slightly uneven white teeth. “You’re right, but—”

He couldn’t help it. His hand drifted to her cheek and he brushed away a streak of dust, eliciting a shiver that told him she wasn’t completely indifferent to him. “No buts. Be ready at seven.”

Chapter 2

“What’s going on?” Judy demanded as she followed Ryan into an old cottage a short drive from the main homestead. “I thought you wanted to come here to collect something.”

He gave her a wicked grin. “I did. You.”

She’d planned on spending the evening with him at a café in Halls Creek. Now she was confronted by a table set for two in the middle of what had been her grandparents’ home until the present homestead was built.

The old cottage, now used as guest quarters, was presently unoccupied. She found the scarred dining table disguised by a white cloth borrowed from the main house. A utilitarian candle jutted from a glass holder. A few wildflowers drooped in a jar, making her soften inwardly at Ryan’s attempt at creating an atmosphere. He had succeeded, but not in the way she suspected he’d intended. “You could have told me you planned on eating here,” she said to hide her discomfiture.

“Again, you could have asked.”

True. It had never occurred to her that he’d be this creative. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d rattled her, she looped her bag over the back of a chair and sat down. “I hope you don’t expect me to do the cooking,” she said, her tone disabusing him of any such notion.

He went into the kitchen and she heard him moving around. “I have everything under control,” he said through the open door.

Too curious to sit still, she got up and went into the kitchen. The setting wasn’t the only thing he’d planned, because he pulled two thick steaks out of the refrigerator and carried them to the stove where a pan was heating. When he placed the meat in the pan, the steaks sizzled fiercely and sent up a heavenly spicy aroma. She sniffed appreciatively. The evening might not be going according to her plan—and Lord knew, she hated having her plans thwarted—but the reward might just be worth it.

“There’s a tomato salad and ice water in the refrigerator. Or wine if you prefer,” he said.

“Ice water’s fine.” She took them out and carried them to the table, then went back to enjoy the sight of the family black sheep working in a kitchen. “You never let on you could cook,” she said.

He turned the steaks expertly. “If you’d known, you’d have had me pulling my weight long before this.”

Thinking of the times she’d cooked for him on his visits, assuming he didn’t know one end of a grill plate from another, she twisted her mouth into a sneer. “What other surprises do you have up your sleeve?”

His eyes sparkled. “If I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises.”

“Stop being so damned mysterious and talk. You have a house in Broome. You know your way around a kitchen. Did you win the lottery or something?”

“Or something.”

He would tell her when he was good and ready and not before, she heard in his tone. Happy to watch his fluid movements, she perched on a stool. “Did you know Dad had mortgaged the land to Clive Horvath?” she asked after a while.

Without turning back, Ryan shook his head. “We only talk on birthdays and Christmas, so I’m the last to hear anything.”

“He didn’t tell any of us until it was almost too late. Maybe it still is. You never met Max Horvath, did you?”

Ryan slid the steaks out of the pan onto plates. “His father and mother split up and he moved with her to Perth before I was sent here.”

Sent here, she noted. As if he’d been under a prison sentence. Not came to Diamond Downs, or joined the family. Typical of Ryan not to forget that the choice had been forced upon him. “Of course, you had to learn to cook while you were living alone for all those months,” she said with sudden understanding. “Looks like you’ve added a few frills since then as well.”

He picked up a plate in each hand, and nodded to indicate she was to return to the table. “Took you long enough to work it out.”

She sat down at the table and he placed a plate in front of her. The aroma made her mouth water. “You’re a crafty one. But when you came to us, you were so angry and introverted. And you took off before I got the chance to ask how you’d been managing your life.”

He took his seat and offered her the salad bowl so she could help herself. “I probably would have told you to mind your own business.”

“In words of four letters,” she said, smiling to soften the reminder.

“Yeah, I knew a few of those. Still do.”

But he rarely used them these days.

She sliced into the steak and took a bite, closing her eyes in appreciation. “Who do I have to bribe to get the recipe for this marinade?”

“Just me. Do you want to know my price?”

She opened her eyes and almost recoiled at the sight of her own reflection in his dark gaze. His expression told her more surely than words that she wouldn’t like his price, so she didn’t ask. “There’s garlic and oregano,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

His mouth turned up at the corners as if he could read her inner turmoil and was amused by it. “What else?”

She took another bite and let it linger on her tongue. “Red wine?” He nodded. “And something spicy. Not chili. Damn it, why don’t you just tell me?”

He rested an arm on the table. “Because it’s fun to watch your eyes go off like firecrackers when you take my bait.”

“That’s exactly the sort of remark we could have avoided if we’d eaten in a public place.”

“Why do you think I chose this one?”

She stared at him. “So you could provoke me?”

“Not provoke, challenge you into admitting you want me as much as I want you.”

She almost choked on the mouthful of steak she was just swallowing. Suspecting how he felt and having it spelled out were very different experiences. “Now I know you’ve gone crazy.”

“It isn’t crazy for a man to be attracted to a woman, especially when she feels the same way.”

“I do not.”

“Do, too.”

The childish exchange reminded her of all the reasons this conversation was totally inappropriate. “You can’t be attracted to your foster sister.”

His knife and fork clattered onto his plate and he indulged in a couple of the words they’d just discussed. “You are not and never have been my sister.”

“You were fostered by my father.”

“Not by choice. I lived in your house for less than a year, and I left before the relationship was made official.”

She took a hasty gulp of water. “Surely Dad became your legal guardian as he did for the others?”

“He wanted to, but I didn’t give him the chance. So my statement stands.”

His feelings were hardly news to her, but she’d always assumed nothing could come of them as long as he was family. Or had she hidden behind the belief rather than acknowledge the power of her response to him? She’d spent most of her adult years keeping men at a distance, determined not to have a life like her mother’s.

Or a death.

Judy still nursed a deep well of hurt whenever she thought of Fran Logan ignoring the pain of appendicitis and continuing to minister to her family’s needs until she collapsed. By the time medical help had been obtained for her, it had been too late.

Outback women like Fran lived and breathed the belief that their families came first. No sacrifice was too much. More often then not they hid their own feelings, needs and wants, never letting on to their families and those closest to them that they might be suffering. When food was scarce, they served themselves the smallest portions or none at all. If children were sick, they were nursed day and night, sometimes through their own sickness. They set bones and mended fences with equal stoicism. Educated their children at home. Endured isolation and deprivation beyond most people’s comprehension.

Satellites and cell phones might have eased the solitude, but not the need for sacrifice. Judy still encountered plenty of it on her flights to deliver supplies, medicine, news and visitors to outlying properties. The women were the ones who suffered in silence. Judy didn’t intend to become one of them. She didn’t have their qualifications for sainthood.

These days, there was no requirement for a woman to marry. Judy saw herself as living proof you could have a satisfying career and a social life without tying yourself down forever.

“Lots of men tell me they’re attracted to me,” she stated, wishing for another glass of water to ease her parched throat. “I’m not interested in anything long-term.”

He reached over and poured water from his own glass into hers. “Maybe you just haven’t been told by the right man.”

She sipped slowly. “The right man being you, I suppose?”

He helped himself to tomato salad, but didn’t eat. “We’ve always known what was between us. Ignoring it hasn’t helped. So the logical solution is to have an affair and be done with it.”

Her hands, usually so capable on the controls of her Cessna 182, fluttered helplessly. “Dad is seriously ill. We may not be able to hang on to Diamond Downs. And you want us to have an affair?”

“Blake and Tom have the same worries, but I don’t see Blake living without Jo, or Tom holding off on marrying his princess. If we wait for everything to be perfect before dealing with what’s between us, we can’t move on.”

“Blake and Tom are not…” Barely in time, she stopped herself from uttering the words long forbidden by her father. “Blood.” As Des saw it, his foster sons were as much family as his biological daughter.

Ryan’s expression stayed impassive, but his eyes had hardened. “You can say it. Des isn’t here to jump on you. Blake, Tom, Cade and I are grace-and-favor Logans. I can’t speak for them, but the situation suits me fine.”

Appalled at herself, she looked down at the plate. “I guess I don’t like thinking you actually prefer being an outsider.”

He smiled wryly. “If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. I know Des means well but he can’t change history. All of us were born into other lives. He gave us a second chance and we respect him for it. But it doesn’t make us Logans. We can’t feel the same toward him and Diamond Downs as you who were born here of his flesh and blood.”

“Are you sure?”

A long pause preceded his reply. “Honest answer? I don’t know. When I was a teenager, I envied the other boys for belonging here when I felt as if I never would. Maybe they do feel more kinship with Des and the land than I want to think. One day, I may even ask them if we get drunk enough.”

She gave a shaky smile and resumed eating. “Their answers may surprise you.”

He attacked his steak as if it were his beliefs. “Wouldn’t be the first time. When I got here, I was so full of my own bull, thinking nobody knew the troubles I’d seen. Then I found out Tom’s dad was in jail for killing his mother in a fit of jealous rage, and Blake had been left on a doorstep when he was a baby. My problems seemed feeble by comparison.”

“They were real enough to you. It wasn’t fun having to fend for yourself at fourteen.”

“But I’d had my mother until then, and some happy memories of my father before he vanished without trace. It’s more than Blake ever had. And my dad may have run out on us, but while we lived as a family he never raised a hand to his wife.”

She masked a smile, recognizing—as Ryan evidently failed to do—Des Logan’s words to the boy soon after he arrived. Reminding him to count what he had, rather than what he lacked. Her father had been more of an influence over Ryan than he knew.

Finishing the steak, she pushed the plate away. “I’d like the marinade recipe one day, if the price comes down.”

His expression said it wouldn’t where she was concerned. Then he said, surprising her, “You can have the secret for free. It’s wasabi, Japanese mustard. Just a touch makes all the difference.”

She should have known. His home was in Broome, where the Japanese influence had been strong for a couple of centuries. The town even held a Japanese pearl festival each year, the Shinju Matsuri. “Wasabi, I’ll remember,” she said.

“I’ll bring you some next time I visit,” he promised.

She placed her knife and fork side by side on the plate. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Steel settled in his gaze. “Shouldn’t bring wasabi, or shouldn’t come?”

“Both. Having an affair might work for you, but it isn’t what I want. I only wanted you to come back because you’re part of the family.”

He leaned closer. “What are you afraid of? If it’s my prospects, I’m a better catch than I’ve let you believe.”

She stood up and started to pace, her movements constrained by the small room. “Your prospects aren’t the problem.” It was his overwhelming effect on her.

“You can’t say you don’t feel anything for me.”

She swung around, wrapping her arms around herself. She couldn’t lie. But she didn’t have to tell the whole truth. “There’s a complication.”

His mouth thinned. “As in another man?”

“I’m seeing Max Horvath.”

Ryan looked thunderstruck. “You can’t be serious. I know he had a thing for you a few years back, but I thought you’d made it clear you weren’t interested in this or any other lifetime.”

“I did. Then I—changed my mind. I shouldn’t even be here with you tonight. I broke a date with Max because I wanted this chance for us to talk privately.”

Looking as if he’d rather shatter them to bits, Ryan gathered the plates and glasses with exaggerated care, but stayed standing at the table. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Max is the one with designs on your land and your legendary diamonds. Is this some kind of crazy self-sacrifice thing? Marrying him so he’ll let your father keep the land? Is that your bride price, Judy?”

“No.” In fact, she had started seeing Max again against her family’s better judgment so she could keep an eye on his activities. They were all convinced Max was behind a string of suspicious incidents on Diamond Downs, but the police couldn’t pin anything on him without proof. She was hoping if he let his guard down with her, she could obtain the proof.

The list of grievances was long and getting longer. No sooner had Tom and Shara discovered a cave of valuable rock art on the land than a crocodile attack had attracted negative publicity, threatening the income from tourism Des had hoped to bring in.

Journalist Jo Francis had arrived to write a series of stories about surviving in the outback, her editor paying well for the access. Then Blake, an expert on crocodile behavior, had caught Max’s henchman Eddy Gilgai luring the crocodile dangerously close to Jo’s camp.

The scheme had backfired when Eddy himself had been taken by a crocodile, but the resulting media coverage hadn’t done Diamond Downs’s fledgling tourism venture much good. With the wet season approaching, fewer tourists were visiting the Kimberley anyway. By the time the dry season came around again—assuming they could hang on that long—Judy hoped the fuss over the crocodile attacks would have subsided, and they could focus attention on the rock art caves again.

She couldn’t tell Ryan what she hoped to achieve by dating Max, without letting him think she was available for a romantic fling with him. The very thought sent needs she didn’t want to acknowledge coiling through her. Right now he looked angry enough to break something, but the fire in his expression ignited an answering one inside her. What would it be like to feel his strong arms around her and his mouth hungry on hers?

Since she couldn’t find out and keep faith with herself, she tore her gaze away. “I didn’t want to talk about this, Ryan. You don’t control me.”

“I’m not going to stand back and let you barter yourself for a creep like Max Horvarth,” he said. “If finding that mine will keep you away from him, I’ll find it for you.”

She had hoped to convince him to help, but not like this. “Are you offering to help so I’ll have an affair with you? If so, the price is too high.”

“The price is the same as it’s always been—your body and soul. And the chance to get this…thing…between us worked out once and for all.”

“Damn you, Ryan. Don’t do this to me.”

“It’s done. All I did was up the ante. Unless you want me to go back to Broome and forget about helping you look for the mine.”

Careful to avoid touching him, she took the plates from him and carried them to the kitchen, where she started to run hot water into the sink. Mechanically, she began to wash the plates.

He came up beside her and picked up a dish towel, drying the plates as if the two of them were a couple doing their nightly chores. The image had more appeal than she wanted it to.

“What’s it to be?” he asked as he put the plates away.

She lifted dripping hands out of the water to gesture futilely. “You ask the impossible. I need your help if I’m to have any chance of finding the mine before the wet season cuts off access, but I can’t agree to…your terms.”

He flicked the kettle on and lifted two coffee mugs down from a shelf. “What can you agree to?”

Her voice struggled to rise above a whisper. “To think about your offer?”

“Not good enough. Thinking’s too intangible.”

Ryan knew he’d done enough thinking about her to drive a man crazy. Already he was regretting tonight. Arranging dinner in the isolated cottage had seemed like a good idea when he’d devised it. He hadn’t allowed for her effect on him. Seated across the table, knowing how easily he could carry her to the bedroom, had made this the most uncomfortable meal of his life. Before he’d known it, he’d suggested an affair in exchange for his help. Judy’s presence made him forget all gentlemanly behavior—forget everything but how badly he wanted her.

“I’m sure Dad would agree to give you a share of the mine.”

He slammed the coffee mugs onto the timber counter hard enough to startle them both. “I don’t want a share of the bloody mine.”

“Then I’ll go looking alone.”

“Am I so offensive to you that you’d risk your life, rather than consider a relationship with me?” he demanded.

“Oh, Ryan, no. I could make love to you far too easily if I let myself.” Or fall in love with you.

His hopes, almost throttled, began to rise. “Then if I’m not the problem, what is? You can’t tell me you’re in love with Max Horvath.”

“I have my own reasons. If you really care about me, you’ll respect them and leave me alone.”

He ran his hands up and down her arms, feeling the shivers of response. “What do you think I’ve been doing the last few years?”

Caught by surprise, she turned, right into his embrace. “Is that why you come back so seldom?”

He smoothed out the furrow in her brow with his lips. Her skin tasted of sun and heat. She rarely used perfume, but her natural scent swirled through his brain, dazzling him. He took her mouth much harder than he’d meant to, as a starving man might attack his first offering of food. The impact wound all the way to his gut and stayed there, urging him not to stop at a kiss but to plunder and take. Now. Now.

Her arms wound around his neck and she pressed against him as if she also had trouble controlling her actions. When he’d claimed her mouth, her lips had parted instinctively and he flicked his tongue against the soft corners, gratified by her small indrawn gasps of pleasure.

With his knee, he nuzzled her legs apart and pressed closer. Thinking they’d be dining in town, she’d exchanged her jeans for a long, batik-printed skirt, more like a length of cloth wound around her slender hips. The cloth parted at his probing, revealing long legs strengthened by years of outdoor work and handling heavy cargo on her own.

As his body collided with hers, she opened her mouth as if to protest, but any objection she might have made was swallowed when he deepened the kiss. He’d found her core with his thigh and now he moved gently, seductively between her legs until she released a moan against his mouth. Through her skimpy white cotton top, he felt her nipples harden and almost moaned himself. Wanting her set his belly aflame and his blood roaring. It came to him that he could take her now and end this pointless argument once and for all. She would be his, end of story.

But until he knew what kept her from giving herself to him of her own accord, he couldn’t in good conscience take what was within his grasp, although, heaven knew, he wanted to. He had never wanted anything—or anyone—more.

Cursing Des Logan for instilling at least a few principles into him, he trailed kisses down her throat and stiffly, painfully lifted his head. Her eyes were cloudy with desire, her limbs shaky. He held her until he was sure she could stand on her own, then stepped back.

“Now you know why I don’t return more often.”

Her breathing became shallow. “I never guessed.”

“You must have known I was attracted to you.”

“But not—like this.”

To give them both time, he finished making the coffee and carried the mugs to the living room. He was surprised nothing spilled, considering how unsteady his hands felt. She followed more slowly and sat across the table from him, her face pale.

He disliked cornering her, but he’d had to show her what was at stake. Words could never have convinced her. He realized he’d taken a risk by showing her how strongly she affected him. Sharing his feelings wasn’t something he did easily, and he doubted he did it well. She might still reject him, but if she agreed to his proposition, they’d both have a chance of moving on.

She cupped her hands around the mug he placed in front of her. “I admit I feel something for you, and it’s powerful. No, let me finish while I can,” she said as he moved to interrupt. “If I thought going to bed with you would get you out of my system I’d say yes.”

“So what’s the problem?” he demanded, unable to stay silent.

Lifting her head, she gave him a troubled look. “I prefer to keep my life the way it is, free of emotional entanglements. It isn’t personal.”

“The hell it isn’t. Whatever you need or want from me to ease your fears on that score, tell me and I’ll make sure you have it.”

“It isn’t that simple. What I want is to stay uninvolved.”

“What you want?”

She heard the disbelief in his tone. “All right, what I need. If you truly feel about me the way you claim, you’ll try to understand.”

“I’ll never understand,” he stated. “And I will do everything in my power to change your mind.”

Her faint smile was his reward. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t. But I won’t change my mind. And I’ll find another way to go after the diamond mine.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Coffee sloshed over the edge of her cup. “You mean you’ll help me?”

“I always intended to help you, no matter what your answer. I guess I hoped you’d fall for my bluff and give me more incentive to go looking for this blasted mine.”

“Don’t you believe it exists?”

“It’s a beautiful legend, and as tempting as that lottery win you mentioned before. And just about as likely.”

“Then why look for it?”

He couldn’t hold back his smile. “Because it gives me an excuse to stay close to you for the next month. How else can I work on changing your mind?”

Chapter 3

Judy wasn’t sure how she felt; everything was happening too fast. She didn’t need anything else on her plate. Least of all Ryan trying to pressure her into a hot and heavy affair.

No, not an affair. She could have handled a fling. And she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t thought about becoming involved with him. But she doubted she could protect her heart if they took their attraction to the next level.

He wasn’t the only one struggling to deal with the chemistry between them. She also remembered the awareness that had flashed between them like summer lightning when they were both too young to understand what was going on.

Every time she’d seen him since then, she’d felt the pull growing stronger, more irresistible, until she’d found herself making excuses to fly to wherever she knew he was working, usually as a stockman on some outlying property. He’d greeted her cordially enough, but she’d never been able to tell whether he was pleased to see her. Once or twice, he’d acted as if he couldn’t wait for her to leave, making her wonder if there was another woman involved. Still she’d kept tabs on him. Some people never learned.

Sometimes she wished she could forget all about him, putting as much distance between them as humanly possible. Was that how he’d felt when he’d run away from Diamond Downs as a teenager? When he’d gone, she’d felt as if something precious had been taken away. She’d told herself she was worried about how he would cope on his own, although he’d been doing it long enough. The truth was she’d missed him.

Not that she’d been short of companionship. Blake, Tom and Cade were good fun when they’d been persuaded to forget that she was—shock, horror—a girl. Ryan had never needed persuading; every look and casual touch acknowledged the inescapable fact. She’d missed that, too.

Especially that.

Yet now, facing him and hearing him say point-blank that he wanted her, she wished she were anything but female. Anything but the focus of his single-minded attention. What was going on with her?

The feel of his kiss lingered on her mouth more strongly than the food they’d shared. She knew she would taste him long into this night.

Ever alert to her moods, he pushed his coffee mug to one side and rested his forearms on the table. “Where do you want to start?”

With her mind still on his kiss, she almost answered the wrong question. Then she realized he meant the diamond mine.

She marshaled her scattered wits. “You went over the map with Blake and Tom, so you know roughly where they think the mine should be found.”

“The hidden valley that leads off Cotton Tree Gorge,” he said, showing he’d done his homework.

She smiled. “Blake wants Dad to call it Francis Valley after Jo.”

“Sounds fair. I gather she took quite a tumble falling into the place while dodging Eddy Gilgai. Then she picked herself up and went exploring. Resilient as well as smart. She did well for herself snagging Blake.”

Judy made a face at him. “Couldn’t he be the lucky one?”

“Ideally, the benefits are mutual.”

“Big of you to admit it,” she muttered under her breath.

Ryan didn’t react. “They did us a favor finding the remnants of your great-grandfather’s canoe in the Bowen River,” he went on.

“If they’re right, a branch of the river disappears underground not far from the Uru cave—where Tom and Shara found the rock paintings,” she said.

“I know where it is. I haven’t seen the cave yet, but the others brought me up to speed on the discovery. They were pretty excited to find evidence of a prehistoric civilization living in the area. No wonder the world’s scientists are already beating a path to your door.” A frown arrowed his brow. “Didn’t Max Horvath find traces of diamonds somewhere near the Uru cave?”

She inclined her head in agreement. “Jo found a couple more along the creek in her hidden valley.”

He drew patterns on the checkered cloth with a finger. “So the truth lies somewhere along that creek between the cave site and the floating island where Jack Logan’s canoe fetched up sixty years ago.”

Ryan’s nails were short and blunted by hard manual work, Judy noticed, distracted. But his hands were clean and well cared for. A man’s hands, she thought. Hard when touching her softness. Gentle but irresistible. How would they feel seeking greater intimacy? The thought sent streaks of flame licking through her, homing in on the places she imagined him touching.

A physical relationship with him would never be enough to satisfy her, she sensed. Against all her self-imposed rules, he would make her want more, need more, leading to the very future she was determined to avoid. So she pushed the images away although the quivers of sensation lingered, making concentration difficult.

As a pilot, she was trained to shut out extraneous images. She made herself think of the problem of Ryan as a tricky landing on a too-short outback strip littered with rocks.

In other words, a recipe for a crash landing.

“Do you know anything about a family file Blake and your dad were talking about?” Ryan asked.

She pulled out of the crash dive barely in time. “Cade’s the only one who saw it. He was helping Dad by catching up on some accounts when he came across a folder of very old records that had been misfiled and forgotten. He didn’t think much about them until a friend showed Blake and Jo an old photo they recognized as Great-grandpa Logan’s canoe washed up on the island. According to Cade, there were more photos and paperwork from the same era, giving us more clues to the mine’s location.”

“And did they?”

“We never found out. When Cade went to have a more thorough look at the file later, he was attacked from behind. When he came to, he had a concussion and no memory of the attack.”

Ryan steepled his hands in front of him. “Of course the file was gone.”

“What do you think?”

“I think our next move should be to try and get it back.”

She picked up he coffee mug and stood up. “Easier said than done. There’s no proof, but we suspect that Max had something to do with the theft.”

Ryan shot her a curious look. “No fingerprints or other evidence?”

“He’s too smart for that. If he was involved, he would have put Eddy Gilgai up to the actual attack.”

“Now that Eddy’s dead, Max might have to start doing his own dirty work,” Ryan mused. “Do you still think it’s a good idea to be involved with him?”

She knew how reckless her insistence that she was attracted to Max made her look. But admitting the truth would only intensify Ryan’s efforts to claim her. And she couldn’t deal with that now. “So far Max’s part in this is purely circumstantial.”

“You said yourself you think he was behind the attack on Cade and the theft of the file.”

She planted a palm on the table. “Look, maybe Max was behind this and maybe he wasn’t. Under the law, he’s innocent until proven guilty.”

Ryan’s chair scraped back as he stood to face her. “You know he needs the diamonds to repay his creditors before they foreclose on him. And there’s a better than even chance he’s behind some of the attacks on your family. Yet you insist on seeing him. I’d never have picked you for a gold digger, Judy.”

He’d invaded her personal space, but she held her ground. “You’d better have a good explanation for that remark.”

“Do I need one? You can’t possibly be in love with the man after all he’s done and is doing to your family. So you must have another reason for sticking with him. The only one I can think of is money. Did he offer you a share of the mine if you become his wife?”

Ice dripped into her tone. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

“Not really. Just stating the facts as I see them.”

“You forget yourself,” she raged.

Her anger washed off him. “Of course. I’m only a drifter who can’t hold down a steady job for more than a few months. Max inherited a substantial chunk of land, and potentially a lot more if he gets his hands on Diamond Downs. From your point of view, he’s a better bargain as a lover.”

So angry she could barely stop herself from lashing out at him, she slammed the coffee cup down and spun out of the room.

Out on the veranda she dragged in a lungful of the cleansing air, hardly aware of the splendor of the night sky, like a velvet cloth strewn with the diamonds her home was named for. Did Ryan know that the sky with its myriad stars was the reason for the property’s name, not the fortune in precious stones said to be located here? Did he have the foggiest idea of what this place meant to her?

The land itself was her legacy, as it had been for generations of Logans. Only her father’s illness and his miscalculation in mortgaging the land to the Horvaths had changed everything. She had grown up knowing the legend of the diamonds, but never cared much about finding them until they were her only hope of holding onto the land for the next generation. The money itself was strictly a means to an end.

God, she hated to lose. And losing her heritage because she hadn’t done everything in her power to retain it would be the cruelest loss of all.

Intellectually she knew why Ryan had made his vile suggestion, but in her heart she felt mortally insulted. How could he think she would sell herself to Max for money?

That wasn’t the real reason she was so angry, she realized as she fought to bring her labored breathing under control. She was affronted because Ryan was the one making the accusation.

Buying and selling favors was probably second nature to him. The kind of women he was accustomed to dealing with probably wouldn’t have minded, she thought. But being placed in the same category had hurt her beyond belief.

Aware that he had followed her outside, she tensed, primed for battle.

His next words came as a shock. “I apologize. I was out of line.”

With the wind taken out of her sails, she didn’t turn around. “Have you any idea how close you came to being smacked across your big mouth?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, an infuriating note of humor in his tone. “I shouldn’t have accused you of gold-digging. I know you better.”

How could he know her at all? She wondered. They’d spent so little time together as adults that his memory was of her as a teenage girl, not the woman she now was. He couldn’t possibly understand her fear of falling in love and losing control of her life. “Apology accepted,” she said evenly. “My reasons for seeing Max are my own affair, nobody else’s.”

“Doesn’t stop me being jealous as hell,” he said.

He moved up beside her and rested his hands on the top rail. “Beautiful night, isn’t it? Every time I go away from Diamond Downs I forget how magnificent this place is. Then I come back and wonder why I ever leave.”

Still shaken by his admission that jealousy had caused his outspokenness, she asked, “Why do you?”

“Work mostly.”

“You could work around here. Any cattle station in the region would make an opening for a man with your skills.”

“And what skills would they be?”

“Working cattle, horse breaking, mending fences.” She thought of the steaks he’d served tonight. “You could get a job as a cook. Not just a camp cook—in a restaurant,” she added.

“I’ve done all that and more, but it’s not the work I do,” he said.

She turned to him curiously, unwillingly admiring the way the starlight turned his hair to burnished gold and made his eyes seem darker and more unreadable. “I’ve seen you do all those jobs,” she insisted.

“What you saw was my cover story.” He reached for his wallet and flipped it open to show her a card in a window-faced pocket. “This is what I do for a living.”

In the pale light spilling from the house she examined the document. Credit-card-sized, it had an unflattering photo of Ryan on the left with a date beneath it. The words Security and Related Activities Control Act 1996 were printed across the top. But it was another word in large red type that jumped out at her. “Investigator? Wait a minute. This says you’re a private investigator.”

“Duly licensed by the Commercial Agents Squad of the Western Australian Police Service,” he agreed. “Among other activities, I can run surveillance on individuals and organizations, conduct asset and liability checks, investigate insurance claims and gather information for legal proceedings.”

She wondered if she looked as foolish as she felt. “I always thought you moved around so much because you couldn’t hold down a job.”

He made a wry face. “In the beginning you were right. Then I met an old friend from Broome who turned out to be working undercover at a cattle station where I was a jackeroo. I didn’t know it when I got there, but the station was being used as a holding center for supposedly stolen cattle while their owners filed dodgy insurance claims. After I helped my mate shut the operation down, he offered me regular work. I qualified for my investigator’s license. Later, when he decided to retire, I obtained my Inquiry Agent’s license and bought him out.”

Ryan rested a booted foot on the lower railing and his arms on the topmost one. “My home and office are in Broome and I travel around the Top End and to the Torres Strait islands, wherever the job takes me.”

“My hero, the P.I.,” she said on a note of wonder.

“We can skip the hero part,” he growled. “This doesn’t make me some sort of glamorous secret agent. Most of the work involves tedious evidence-gathering for companies or the courts.”

“With an element of risk,” she pointed out.

He slanted a grin at her. “Some of the people I investigate don’t take kindly to the attention.”

“I can see why they wouldn’t. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“Being looked on as a no-hoper, even by the people closest to you, has advantages. Your attitude toward me helped convince quite a few people that I was no more than what I seemed.”

She straightened. “What attitude?”

“I call it your Mother Teresa thing, trying to help the poor and oppressed.”

Denial coursed through her. “I never acted like that.”

“You were forever checking on my welfare, wherever I was working, and bringing me stuff you thought I needed.”

He thought she’d been dispensing charity. She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that he hadn’t worked out the real reason. She’d welcomed—craved—the excuse to keep in touch with him. Now that she’d discovered the truth, what would be her excuse? “They were only books, CDs, clothing, nothing valuable. I didn’t mean you to take my gestures the wrong way,” was the nearest she dared come to admitting the truth.

Fortunately he didn’t probe, saying, “Admit it, I was one of your good causes, like that art foundation you and Shara are so committed to.”

When Shara Najran had first accompanied her father, King Awad of Q’aresh on a cattle-buying expedition to The Kimberley, the young Middle Eastern princess had been bored and lonely. Drawn together as the only teenage girls in the vicinity, she and Judy had discovered they shared a passion for ancient rock art. They’d stayed in touch for years. Then Shara had persuaded her father to set up an exchange program for indigenous artists between their two countries. These days, Judy represented the foundation locally. She looked forward to having Shara as her sister-in-law when she married Tom.

Heat flushed through Judy, making her wish she could be more honest about her motives for checking on Ryan. On the other hand, there had been times when she had considered him in need of uplifting, so he wasn’t entirely off track. “The Art Bridge Foundation is not a charity,” she denied.

“But I was.”

“Maybe a little.”

He touched her shoulders, moving her to face him. The heat of his hands burned through her cotton T-shirt. “I didn’t mind because it kept me in your thoughts,” he said.

She felt her vision start to blur. “I was always thinking of you, although at times you seemed angry when I turned up and couldn’t wait to get rid of me. That was when you were working on a case, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t want you in any danger.”

“And now?”

“Now you’re mixing with Max Horvath and I can’t get it through your head that the man is high-risk.”

She tossed her head, wishing that her short-cropped hair didn’t make the gesture so ineffectual. “All men are high risk.” Another thought occurred to her. “Have you been checking Max out? If you have, I don’t want to hear about whatever you turned up.”

Ryan’s face had turned to stone. “Because you’re in love with him?”

“I’m not…” The betraying admission was out before she could stop it. “Damn you, Ryan. You know I could never love Max. I’m seeing him because it’s the best way to get close to him and find out what other tricks he has up his sleeve.”

Ryan extended his hand, palm upward. “I want to see it.”

“See what?”

“Your private investigator’s license.” When she didn’t move, he placed his hand against her cheek. “You’re not licensed or qualified to conduct an undercover operation, yet you’re prepared to put yourself on the line. For your father? For Diamond Downs? Does inheriting this place mean that much to you?”

She struggled to find the words, not least because his hold on her was clouding her thinking. “I love my dad. I’d do almost anything for him. And I love this land, but not because of any inheritance value. Andy Wandarra and the other indigenous people here would say it’s my country. They’ll travel thousands of miles to die in their own place, their own country. This is mine.”

“So you’d never want to leave?”

The bitterness she heard in his tone had her wondering. “I didn’t say that. One’s country isn’t necessarily where you spend your whole life. But it is the land where you’re born and where you hope to return before you die, what Andy would call your dreaming place.”

She saw some of the tension leave him. “I understand. I may not have a dreaming place of my own, but I understand.”

“Everyone has a dreaming place.”

His shoulders lifted. “I was born in Kalgoorlie and lived there until my dad disappeared. My mother came from Irish stock and had no relatives in Australia, only a pen friend in Broome. When she realized Dad was never coming back, we moved there to be closer to her friend. So is my dreaming place Kalgoorlie, Broome or where my parents originated?”

“It’s wherever you feel you belong.”

His bladed hand dismissed the sentiment. “When I find out, I’ll let you know.”

“This could be your dreaming place,” she suggested quietly. “You may not have chosen to remain at Diamond Downs, but I thought you were happy here.”

“I was for a time.” Until Des Logan had made it clear that the destitute youth had no business making eyes at his daughter, Ryan thought. Des had been careful not to say that Ryan wasn’t good enough, but what other reason could there have been? Des wasn’t exactly falling over himself to come between Judy and Max Horvath, Ryan noted. He wondered if Judy had noticed that detail.

“You could be happy here again,” she persisted. “The other boys will be pleased when they find out the truth about your activities.”

“They won’t find out because you aren’t going to tell them,” Ryan snapped, beyond caring that he was projecting his own past hurts into his voice. He regretted it when he saw Judy recoil. “The fewer people who know what I do, the more effectively I can do my job,” he said more gently.

He saw her master her hurt with an effort. “At least I know now why you think you can get that file back from Max.”

“Let’s say I’ve had a bit of practice at this sort of work.” He shifted so his face was half in shadow. “I want you to arrange a date with lover boy.”

Her chin came up and her eyes glinted with shock. “You want me to go out with him?”

He shook his head. “Believe me, I’d rather swim with crocodiles, but I’ll need you to lure him away from his house so I can go through his office.”

“Don’t you need warrants to do stuff like that?”

“Not if I’m there legitimately. Eddy’s death left Max shorthanded. We’re going to convince him to hire me, then I’ll do my investigator thing while he’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear.”

When he saw a shudder take her, he felt gratified. He hated throwing her to this particular wolf, but he couldn’t think of a better way to keep their target out of the way while he turned over Max’s place. “Just don’t let him get too close.”

“You will be careful, won’t you? I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

He stroked her hair lightly. “Who are you worried about, Max or me?”

Before she could answer, her cell phone chimed in the background. She hurried back inside and retrieved the phone from her bag in time to take the call.

Hoping it wasn’t Max, Ryan found himself following her. He should probably give her privacy but if it was the other man, Ryan knew he’d have to find a way to cut the call short. The thought of her dating that sleazy character was almost more than he could tolerate. Maybe they’d all get lucky and Max would be eaten by a crocodile before she had to see the man again.

“Is he going to be all right?” Ryan heard her say into the phone. His senses sharpened. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said and ended the call.

“Your father?” he asked.

She nodded, so pale he ached to take her in his arms, but her body language negated the idea. “At dinner he complained of chest pains and difficulty breathing. Cade’s taken him to the hospital in Halls Creek.”

“I didn’t think they had cardiac services in a four-bed hospital. Shouldn’t he be airlifted to Perth?”

Her hand went to her hair and she pushed it back, a trick of hers when she was nervous, he’d noticed. “They’re arranging for the Flying Doctor to evacuate him, but he needs to be stabilized before he goes anywhere. He’ll be at Halls Creek for at least a couple more hours.”

He picked up his car keys. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll be quicker in the Cessna.”

His glance inventoried her pale features and shaking hands. “You aren’t in any condition to fly anywhere.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to anyway. You don’t have to come.”

Stopped in his tracks, he said, “Would you rather I didn’t?”

Her faltering smile and slight shake of her head was the answer he needed. He swept up her bag and his jacket in one hand, and her in the other. Holding her close at his side, he walked her out to the car. “Forget the Cessna. I’ll drive you there. By the time you do your preflight, take off and land, and get from the airport to the hospital, you won’t get there much faster.”

“How long do you plan to stick around?”

Ryan brushed her lips with his then opened the car door for her. “Consider me glued to your side from now until we find your diamond mine.”

Chapter 4

The Halls Creek Hospital had been built in the 1950s as a nursing outpost before being upgraded to its present modern level. Having helped out with many medical flights, Judy knew the compact size belied the wide range of health services the facility provided to the people of the hundred and fifty thousand square mile shire.

When Ryan pulled up outside the main building on Roberts Avenue, Judy saw Cade’s old Holden parked nearby. Her heart began to pound and a headache tugged at her temples. She had known this moment would come, but now it was here her hands felt clammy with fear. Her father’s life was in the balance. Not even the roughest landing on the most inadequate airstrip could compare with the dread gripping her now.

Ryan cut the engine and took her hand. “He’ll be okay, trust me.”

Feeling his strength flowing into her, she resisted the temptation to cling. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“We don’t know he won’t.”

“Mr. Sunshine,” she snapped, but a little of her fear had receded in the face of his quiet confidence. “Let’s get this over with.”

Inside the hospital they found Cade pacing, his features taut with worry. He returned Judy’s hug and nodded toward Ryan. “What’s the latest news?” she asked.

“He’s having some tests now. We’ll know more when they’re done.”

Aware of Ryan shadowing her, she said, “I should have been at home.”

Cade’s gesture negated this. “Wouldn’t have made any difference. He was fine until just before dinner. Then during the meal he complained of chest pains and had difficulty breathing. I brought him straight here.”

“You did the right thing,” she agreed.

“When do they plan on airlifting him to Perth?” Ryan asked from behind her.

Cade’s shoulders lifted. “Not until they’re sure he’s strong enough to handle the transfer.”

She felt Ryan’s hand press on her shoulder. “You’ll be able to see him before he goes anywhere.”

“I’m going with him if they’ll let me,” she vowed, not wanting to admit to herself how much comfort she took from his touch. Cade didn’t seem to find anything untoward in the gesture. Only she knew how differently Ryan viewed their relationship.

Damn him, why did he have to choose tonight to complicate everything? She wanted to keep her mind clear to focus on her father’s problems, not have to agonize over where she stood with Ryan.

She didn’t have to, she resolved in a snap decision. Just because he’d declared his desire for her didn’t mean she had to reciprocate. She didn’t have to do anything except carry on as she was. It had nothing to do with her.

Except she knew it wasn’t so simple. She had feelings for him, whether she acknowledged them or not. Tonight she’d realized she was fooling herself if she thought she could remain uninvolved with him around. If she could have managed without his help, she might have had a chance to resist. As it was, she needed him.

Ryan was the original all-or-nothing man and he was in danger of sweeping her along on the tidal wave of his determination. She was going to have to tread water like crazy to keep ahead of this particular tidal wave without being dragged under.

“Have you heard from Blake and Jo?” she asked to divert her unruly thoughts.

Cade shook his head, his long raven hair falling across his piercing blue eyes. “Blake was rounding up a rogue crocodile that’s taking cattle on a property near Broome. Jo went with him to write about the capture for her magazine. I couldn’t reach them by phone, and they aren’t expected back until tomorrow.”

She touched him lightly, grateful for his steadiness. He might not be as muscular as Ryan, but his tall, thin build concealed an inner strength she appreciated. “I don’t know what Dad would have done without you.”

“Running Diamond Downs is good therapy,” Cade said, making her wonder why he needed such a thing. “It doesn’t leave much time for anything else.”

Didn’t she know it. Before Cade came home, her flying business had suffered as she’d tried to hold everything together in her father’s stead. Her brain refused to deal with the possibility that he might not make it. Logic told her she would have to lose him someday, but not now. She wasn’t prepared.

“Ryan, what are you doing here?”

Hearing the feminine voice, Judy’s hackles went up instinctively. She turned to see a woman only a little younger than herself planting a kiss on Ryan’s cheek. The woman’s hair looked as if she’d combed it with her fingers and the skin beneath her eyes was smudged with violet, but she still managed to look glamorous. And familiar for some reason.

Before Judy could place her, Ryan took the woman’s hand and tugged her into their group. “Judy Logan and Cade Thatcher, this is Heather Wilton, one of my favorite women in the world.”

The woman extended her free hand and Judy shook it automatically. “Hi Judy, Cade. I’ve heard a lot about your family from Ryan,” Heather said.

Her voice was low and sexy. Beautiful in an interesting sort of way, she had fluffy blond hair, huge blue eyes beneath winged eyebrows, and indecently full, roseate lips. Judy saw a keen intelligence in Heather’s gaze and tried not to feel envious of the way she made a watermelon-colored tank and denim shorts look like high fashion.

Judy didn’t recall seeing Heather around Halls Creek or on any of her regular aerial routes. “Why do I feel as if I know you from somewhere?”

“Heather used to present the weather reports on Perth television. You might have seen her there,” Ryan said, sounding proud of the woman’s accomplishments.

“But I live at Citronne now,” Heather supplied quickly.

Judy felt her eyebrows lift. “The cattle station near the edge of Lake Argyle? That’s a long way from Perth TV.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Moving up there was a huge culture shock but I love it.”

“Did your work bring you to the Kimberley?” Cade asked.

Heather beamed a secretive smile at Ryan. “It was nothing less than true love.”

Judy felt ill. They were supposed to be worrying about her father, not rehashing Ryan’s love life. It didn’t seem to matter that mere moments before, she’d resolved to let him be love-struck on his own. She didn’t like to think meeting one of his old flames—current flames?—had changed anything.

“Shouldn’t we see how Dad’s doing?” she asked pointedly.

Ryan gave her an amused look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking. But all he said was, “I’ll see what I can find out.” He moved purposefully toward a nurses’ station.

“I gather your father is the patient,” Heather said. “Is he going to be all right?”

“We hope so.” Judy felt her stomach clench with nerves as she fought to stop herself imagining anything else. Briefly she explained the situation to Heather, who nodded in sympathy. “What brings you here?” Judy asked in turn.

Heather nibbled on her lower lip. “I escorted a group of children from our area to Halls Creek as a reward for doing so well at school. But my son Daniel had a bad asthma attack this morning and had to be rushed here.”

“I hope your son will be all right, too,” Judy said, ashamed of being tempted to jump to yet another conclusion. She’d already been wrong about Ryan on several counts. No need to add any more to the list.

Heather smiled wanly. “The doctor says he’s over the worst for the moment. They’re keeping him in the hospital for another day as a precaution.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Judy murmured. “Who’s minding the children while you’re here?”

“Luckily I’m mainly the escort. Our host is one of the former teachers from the local school, Tracey Blair. She has a house in town with plenty of spare room, so she invited the children to stay for a few days. She’s well-known to their parents, and the kids jumped at the chance to stay with her. I was happy to accompany them, and enjoy a change of scene for Daniel and myself.”

Judy’s smile broadened. “Tracey’s an old friend. You should ask her to call my foster brother, Blake. He runs a crocodile park near Halls Creek and would love to show the children around while they’re with her.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the suggestion. The kids are used to seeing crocodiles in the waterways at home, so it would be good for them to learn more about them from an expert.”

Judy was scribbling Blake’s telephone number on a piece of paper for Heather when Ryan came back. A moment later his smile registered. “Des is fine. The heart attack was a false alarm, according to his doctor,” he assured her.

She felt her knees turn to jelly. “What about the pain and shortness of breath?”

His arm came under her elbow as if he sensed her need for support. “Brought on by stress, they tell me. The tests show it wasn’t a heart attack at all, so he won’t need to be airlifted out.”

“Thank God.” Cade’s heartfelt statement echoed her feelings. “When can he come home?”

“Not tonight. He’s sleeping. After this, they’re going to advise him to stay in town to be closer to medical help.”

Judy looked at the phone number she’d just written down. “Dad could move into Blake’s house at the crocodile park. Even if he’s called away to take care of a problem crocodile, there’s always someone at the park to keep an eye on things.”

“And Blake’s house is a lot closer to town than Diamond Downs,” Ryan agreed, adding, “Although I don’t fancy having to convince Des of the necessity.”

“Blake will pen him up with the crocs if that’s what it takes,” she said grimly. “And we’ll back him up.”

Heather smiled. “Must be nice having a large family to share responsibilities at such a time.”

Judy handed her the phone number and clasped her fingers around Heather’s in silent support. “Don’t you have family?”

“I come from Tasmania originally, so all my family is there. Not that there were many of us to begin with. Jeff doesn’t have anyone other than Daniel and me.”

Judy knew her tone reflected her confusion. “Jeff?”

“My husband. He hired Ryan to help us resolve a fraud case a couple of years ago. One of our workers claimed to have been injured at work and was suing us for a fortune, when he’d actually been drunk at the time of the injury, and was nowhere near as badly hurt as he tried to claim. The case was decided in our favor, thanks to Ryan’s evidence. We’re in his debt.”

So much for conclusions, Judy thought. Ryan was right, she would have to stop jumping to them where he was concerned.

Cade gave Ryan a curious look. “Sounds as if you get up to a lot more than jackerooing.”

He made a gesture of demurral. “I was only helping out a friend.”

Cade looked unconvinced, but accepted the explanation at face value. “Suit yourself.” He stood up. “Since there’s no point in me hanging around here any longer, I’ll head to Diamond Downs and come back to see Des in the morning. Are you okay for a ride, Jude?”

She wavered. How easy it would be to return to the homestead in Cade’s uncomplicated company. But she had to deal with what was between her and Ryan, and avoiding him wouldn’t help. “Thanks, but I want to look in on Dad for a moment then I’ll come home with Ryan. He brought me in his car.”

Cade feigned amazement. “And you got here in one piece?”

Ryan punched him on the arm. “Show a little more respect, mate.”

Cade grinned. “I’m showing as little as I can.”

Heather gave Judy a slightly bemused glance. “Do your brothers always carry on like this?”

“Ryan isn’t my brother. When we were kids he spent some time with our family, probably where he picked up so many bad habits,” she heard herself state. Why was she denying their relationship to others, while trying to act like a sister to him herself?

She ignored Cade’s startled look but was well aware of Ryan’s satisfied expression. All she’d done was state a fact, one he’d reminded her forcibly about earlier in the evening. It didn’t mean she was interested in any other kind of relationship between them.

“Will you be all right?” she asked Heather.

The other woman pushed her hair back from her face. “I’ll be fine.”

“You have my cell phone number if you need anything,” Ryan reminded her.

“And an open invitation to Diamond Downs anytime,” Judy added. Strange how easy it was to be hospitable now she knew there was nothing between Heather and Ryan. She still had trouble understanding how Heather could give up a glamorous career in television—or any other career—to be an outback wife, but the liking was strong and, Judy suspected, mutual.

Heather gave her a tired smile. “I appreciate the offer. Don’t be surprised if we accept your hospitality while we’re here. I presume Tracey’s whole group is included?”

Judy inclined her head. “Of course. The more, the merrier.”

She and Cade walked out together leaving Judy alone with Ryan. For a normally busy facility, the hospital had gone strangely quiet. “I’m glad Des is okay,” he said into the lull.

“You told me he would be.”

“And I’ve never lied to you. Maybe not told you everything, but never deliberately lied.”

“I know.”

Feeling awkward now she had acknowledged the basic truth that they weren’t brother and sister and never had been, she found herself at a loss to deal with what they were. She took refuge in practicalities. “I’ll ask if it’s okay for me to see Dad now. Do you want to come?”

“I’ll see him tomorrow. You go ahead. I’ll wait for you at the car.”

She hurried to the nurses’ station, wondering what she was hurrying away from. Not the kindness she’d seen in Ryan’s gaze. No, not kindness. A deeper connection she was far from ready to deal with, she admitted inwardly.

As she’d been promised, she found her father sleeping peacefully surrounded by a tangle of monitoring equipment. She took his hand and stood looking at him for a long time, willing him to improve. There wasn’t much chance unless he received a heart transplant, she knew, but she could still hope.

His eyes fluttered open for a second. “Hello, Jude,” he murmured. “I’m a silly old bugger, worrying you over nothing.”

“Never mind about us, you rest now,” she reproved gently. “We’ll be back to see you in the morning. Don’t give the nurses a hard time.”

“Spoilsport,” he said but his voice faded on the word and soon he was asleep again, the monitors bleeping with reassuring regularity.

She felt her vision blur. “You may be a silly old bugger, but I love you, Dad.” Bending, she kissed him lightly, careful not to disturb him, then tiptoed out.

Ryan was leaning against the car, the shadows from the street lights giving his angular features an austere look. “Everything all right?” he asked straightening.

“For now. He stirred long enough to call himself a silly old bugger.”

“Then he’s definitely improving.”

She shook her head. “He won’t until a transplant becomes available.” And we can persuade him to go to Perth to have the operation, she added to herself. That wasn’t likely to happen until they’d resolved her father’s concerns about Diamond Downs’s future.

Too much pressure on too many fronts, she thought, feeling tiredness sweep over her. She was glad now she hadn’t piloted the Cessna to Halls Creek, and could look forward to closing her eyes on the way home if she wanted to.

“This has been rough on you, hasn’t it?” Ryan observed.

“Rougher on Dad. He’s used to being independent and strong.”

“Nobody can be strong all the time.”

Not even you. She heard what he didn’t say. For a fleeting moment she was tempted to lean against him and let his arms come around her. He would find her mouth with his and his fingers would thread through her hair, pressing her closer to deepen the kiss until she shivered with pleasure. With him, she would have no need of strength. He had more than enough for them both.

But there would be a price. He would insist on more, and she already knew he wasn’t a man to take no for an answer. Before she knew it, she would want a ring on her finger and the course of her life would be set. A course she was determined to avoid.

She shook herself like a blue heeler cattle dog shedding water and stiffened her spine. “Time we were heading back.”

“Would you like to go for a drink first?”

At the hotel they were likely to run into dozens of people she knew. She’d have to talk about her father’s problem endlessly, meet their friends’ concern with reassurances she barely believed herself. “I’d rather go home.”

“There’s still that bottle of wine in the fridge at the cottage.”

She gave up trying to make sense of her feelings, knowing only that his suggestion was the best one she’d heard all evening. “Sounds good to me.”

About to get into the car, she was waylaid by a man hurrying up to them. Tall and tanned, he appeared fit enough until you looked closely and saw the signs of too much good living. Unlike most bosses in the Kimberley, Max Horvath preferred to let his men do the hard work around the cattle station he’d inherited from his father. So where he might have been muscular, there was a hint of flab that was set to get worse as he got older. His charcoal hair was streaked with premature gray and his brown eyes were dulled by too many late-night drinking sessions.

“Judy, sweetie, I called at the homestead and they told me the news. Is your dad all right?” Max asked.

As he approached, her heart sank. “It was a false alarm brought on by stress, Max,” she said, thinking how much of that stress could be laid squarely at their neighbor’s feet.

He went on, seemingly unawares. “You should have called me. I’d have brought you to the hospital and stayed with you.”

Precisely why the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. “It all happened too quickly. Luckily Ryan was available to drive me to town.”

Max had barely given Ryan a second glance. Now he looked at the other man with more interest. “You’re new here. Do you work for Des Logan?”

“Ryan is…”

“Ryan Smith. I’m looking for work around here.” He cut across her smoothly. “Judy was interviewing me for a job when Mr. Logan collapsed, and I offered to give her a ride.”

“Late hour for an interview,” Max said stuffily. “Still, you probably have your hands full with everything that’s been going on. I didn’t know you were looking to hire more people, Judy.”

He didn’t know she could afford to hire more people, she translated. “We’re not really hiring,” she said, taking her cue from Ryan. “Ryan was recommended to us by a friend, so the interview was a courtesy. Under the circumstances, we can’t afford to take on anyone new. I’m sorry to be so blunt after you’ve been so helpful,” she said with a deliberately apologetic look at Ryan.

“That’s okay, something will turn up,” he said. “I’m not fussy what I do.”

She could hardly believe her eyes. In a few seconds Ryan had somehow transformed himself from a take-charge figure into a slump-shouldered ne’er-do-well who could barely manage to meet her eyes. It was all she could do not to laugh. How could Max possibly be taken in by such a performance?

However, it seemed he was. “Maybe we should talk. My name’s Horvath. My place borders Diamond Downs to the northwest.”

“That would be good, Mr. Horvath. Judy’s letting me sleep at the bunkhouse tonight, so I’m not far away. “

“Come and see me tomorrow at nine. Judy can give you the directions.”

With that, Max dismissed Ryan as no more than a lackey who might be useful to him, and turned his full attention to Judy. “What’s happening with Des now?”

“They’re keeping him in the hospital overnight as a precaution, then releasing him tomorrow. He’ll be staying with Blake for a while.”

Max nodded. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

Start by tearing up the mortgage over Diamond Downs as Clive had intended to do, she wanted to scream at him, but she kept silent. Max was a different character from his father, who’d been one of the most generous people in the district. Clive would never have taken advantage of Des the way Max was doing.

“There’s nothing,” she said, meaning it.

“Then let me buy you a drink at the pub before you head home.”

She let her shoulders drop. “Can I take a rain check? I’ve had a rough night.”

“Sure. I should have thought of that myself. Why don’t I look in on you tomorrow morning? Smith and I can talk then, if it’s okay with you?”

Inviting Max home was the last thing she felt like doing, but knowing what Ryan was up to, she gave a weary nod. “You can use the office.” When they attacked Cade and stole the file, Max’s men had already taken what he wanted from there anyway.

She tensed as Max leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. His drink at the pub wouldn’t be the first of the night, judging by his whiskey breath. She restrained a shudder as his cheek rasped against hers. “Good night, Max.”

“See you tomorrow, then. You, too, Smith.”

Ryan reached to tip an imaginary hat. “Good night, Mr. Horvath.”

“Snake,” she muttered as the other man walked back to his vehicle.

“Me or lover boy?” Ryan asked, coming around to open the door for her.

“You decide.” She was capable of opening her own door, but allowed the gesture in case Max was still observing them. Or so she told herself.

“What was that all about?” she asked when they were on the road at last.

“I’ve seen him before,” Ryan said.

In the darkened car her startled gaze went to him. “I thought you’d never met Max.”

“He was involved in the insurance scam that got me into the P.I. business. We were sure he was part of the money-laundering end in Perth, but there wasn’t enough evidence to lay charges against him. He went by an alias for that deal, so the name Horvath didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Why am I not surprised? You’re lucky he didn’t recognize you.”

Ryan’s fingers drummed a tattoo on the wheel. “People like him are users. To them, the likes of me are dirt under their feet. They don’t even see us most of the time. We were never introduced, so he would only have seen me from a distance, and he was away when I lived around here. He took me completely at face value.”

She would have done the same, she thought, still amazed that he could transform himself so effectively. No wonder he was good at undercover work. Uneasily she wondered how she would know when he was sincere about anything, then dismissed the thought. They weren’t going to get involved, so why did it matter? “Did you notice how he reacted when you said you weren’t fussy what you do?”

He nodded. “Exactly why I said it. I wanted to sound desperate enough that he’d think of me as a potential replacement for Eddy Gilgai.”

Fear gripped her anew. “Most of the work Eddy did was probably shady.” And had cost him his life, she couldn’t help thinking.

“So Max needs someone with the same low morality to fill Gilgai’s shoes. Don’t be surprised if Ryan Smith acquires a police record by tomorrow.”

“You’re good at this,” she said, not sure she meant it as a compliment.

“I’m good at a lot of things. I’m also very, very persistent,” he added, his tone redolent with meaning.

“You will take care, won’t you?”

“Worried about me, sweetie?” There was laughter in his voice as he mimicked Max, lacing the endearment with a heavy dose of saccharine.

“Only if you keep calling me that. I think I liked you better when you were acting tame and meek.”

They cleared the town limits and twin beams of light leaped ahead of them as he switched the headlights to high beam. A red kangaroo trampolined across their path, disappearing into the well of darkness beyond the road. “You’d never be happy with tame and meek.”

She felt as jumpy as the kangaroo. “How do you know what I’d be happy with?” Particularly when she didn’t know herself.

“I know you better than you want me to. We’re two of a kind.”

Cleansing anger washed away some of her diffidence. “Is that supposed to be flattering?”

“It’s simply fact.”

“I take back what I said. You’re definitely not meek or tame. You’re bossy and pigheaded.”

He gave a low laugh. “As I said, two of a kind.”

He’d achieved one thing. No longer drained and tired, she felt charged with energy and a desire to lash out at something—or someone. She simmered for the rest of the drive home, only remembering that she’d agreed to share the bottle of wine with him when they pulled up outside the old cottage.

She stayed where she was. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather go home.”

He got out. “Suit yourself. I won’t be long.”

Watching him go inside, she was sorely tempted to slide across and drive herself back to the homestead. But she was too well schooled in outback courtesy. If anything went wrong, he would be stranded here. She couldn’t do it.

“One drink, nothing else,” she muttered to herself and followed him inside.

He was already levering the cork out of the chilled Chablis with an old-fashioned opener. “Don’t jackeroos just knock the top off the bottle?” she asked.

“Waste of good wine.” He poured some into glasses. Two glasses, she noted. He’d been very sure she’d decide to join him.

Accepting the drink he offered, she was annoyed to find that her hand was less than steady. She raised the glass to her mouth, pleased when she didn’t spill any. The icy liquid was refreshing as she waited for the alcohol to counteract the nervous strain of a hellish night.

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