“I’m not offering romance. I’ve been there, done that, and come out empty every time.”

The edge of contempt in Nathan’s voice startled Miranda into looking at him. “Look around you,” he directed. “My life is bound up in this land. It comes down to basic needs, and that is pervasive if you live here long enough. I have a great respect for basic needs. And sharing them makes sense to me.”

Miranda frowned, realizing he was talking of a stark reality he faced day after day.

“Now, I’d say there’s something very basic between us that we could answer for each other. I’m not interested in the games men and women play in the world you come from,” he said with an relentless beat that seemed to drum on her mind and heart. “I’ll say it how it is for me. I want you, Miranda. And you want me.”

Dear Reader,

Last year I chartered a plane to fly me from Broome, the pearling capital of the world, right across the Kimberly region of the great Australian outback. The vast plains are home to huge cattle stations, the earth holds rich minerals, and the outposts of civilization are few and far between. I wondered how people coped, living in such isolated communities.

“They breed them big up here,” my pilot said. “It’s no place for narrow minds, mean hearts or weak spirits. You take it on and make it work.” He grinned at me. “And you fly. Can’t do without a plane to cover the distances.”

Yes, I thought. Big men. KINGS OF THE OUTBACK. Making it work for them. And so the King family started to take shape in my mind—one brother mastering the land, running a legendary cattle station; one who mastered the outback with flight, providing an air charter service; and one who mined its riches—pearls, gold, diamonds—selling them to the world.

Such men needed special women. Who would be their queens? I wondered. They have come to me, one by one—women who match these men, women who bring love into their lives, soul mates in every sense.

I now invite you to share the journeys of the heart for these KINGS OF THE OUTBACK. This is Nathan and Miranda’s story. Tommy’s will follow. Then Jared’s. Three romances encompassing the timeless, primitive challenge of the Australian outback and a touch of what the Aboriginals call “The Dreamtime.”

With love,

The Cattle King’s Mistress
Emma Darcy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AUTHOR’S NOTE

CHAPTER ONE

MISTRESS to a married man…no way!

Miranda realised she was gritting her teeth again and consciously relaxed her jaw. She’d end up grinding her teeth right down if she kept thinking of Bobby Hewson and his blithe assumption they could continue as lovers, his forthcoming marriage being no barrier whatsoever to what they shared!

Well, he could find someone else to warm his bed next time he flew into Sydney. Adultery was not her scene. She might have been a fool to have let Bobby play her along with promises for three years, but she was not going to be used for his extra-marital pleasure. She’d seen what that second-string kind of relationship had done to her mother. Never, never, never would she go down the same demeaning and destructive path!

“Miss Wade, your gin and tonic.”

Miranda wrenched her mind off burning thoughts and looked up at the smiling airline hostess who proceeded to lay a serviette on the small metal drinks tray, which extended from the wide armrest of the first-class seat. A little bottle of gin, a can of tonic water and a glass with ice cubes were set down.

Nice to be treated to first-class service by her new employers, Miranda thought, and hoped the drink might help relax her. “Thank you,” she said, returning the smile.

The hostess’s eyes glowed with interest as she remarked, “I just noticed the book in your lap, King’s Eden. Are you heading there?”

It was the book Elizabeth King had given her for background information, once Miranda had signed the two-year contract that tied her to managing the wilderness resort. A history of the place and the family who owned it might be dry reading, but mandatory in the circumstances, and the best use of these hours in flight to Darwin. Miranda sternly told herself it was time she concentrated on her future course and put the past in the past.

“Yes, I am,” she answered, deciding to plumb the interest being displayed. “Do you know it?”

“I’ve been there,” came the obviously enthusiastic reply. “It’s what you might call a legendary place in the Kimberly, owned and run by the cattle Kings. Now that they’ve opened up the wilderness park for tourists and built a resort to cater for them, it’s a very popular outback destination.”

“Did you stay at the resort?”

“Not at the homestead.” An expressive eye-roll. “Too expensive. A group of us stayed three days in the tented cabins at Granny Gorge.”

Tented cabins, camping sites, bungalows and homestead suites—four levels of accommodation to be managed, Miranda reminded herself—a far cry from a five-star hotel. Was she mad to take it on…two years in the wilderness?

“Did you think it was worth the trip?” she asked the hostess.

“Oh, yes! Well worth it! I’ve never seen so many butterflies. The trees around there were filled with them. And we swam in a gorgeous turquoise water-hole fed by waterfalls off the cliffs. Great way to have a shower.”

“So you’d definitely recommend it.”

“To anyone,” the hostess confirmed. “Don’t miss the Aboriginal carvings in the caves if you go to the Gorge.”

“I won’t. Thank you.”

Well, King’s Eden had appealed to at least one person, Miranda noted as the hostess moved off. Its only appeal to her at the present moment, was the chance it offered to live her life on her own terms.

If she’d stayed with the Regency hotel chain, she might have moved from assistant manager in Sydney to an overseas posting, an ambition she’d once nursed, but it would have only happened now if she’d also stayed sweet with Bobby. He’d made that clear, offering steps up the managerial ladder as a persuader to win her compliance with his marriage, which, he’d argued, was only for the purpose of cementing an alliance between two great international hotel chains.

Another lie!

The photograph of his French fiancée in the newspaper was more than enough proof to Miranda that Bobby would find his honeymoon no hardship at all.

He’d obviously been lying to her all along—three years of lies. The only thing she’d ended up believing was his threat to stop her getting a decent position anywhere else if she walked out on him. It was sickeningly clear he’d do and say anything to get his own way.

King’s Eden offered her the perfect escape from that kind of victimisation. It was a one-off resort complex, not linked to anything or anyone that Bobby Hewson could touch or influence.

She smiled grimly as she recalled one of the questions Elizabeth King had asked at the interview.

“You are…unattached?”

Detached, Miranda had almost answered, barely swallowing her bitterness over Bobby’s sleazy propositions and manipulations. “I am completely free, Mrs King,” she had stated. “My life is very much my own.”

And that was how it was going to be at King’s Eden, Miranda vowed. Her own life run by herself. She didn’t care how different the environment was, what problems she’d have to cope with. Her strong sense of self-worth demanded she make good on her own abilities…not by being a playboy’s mistress!

She opened the book on her lap, determined on focusing her mind on the future. A map on the first page showed the Kimberly region—three hundred and twenty thousand square kilometres, stretching from the seaport of Broome on the high west coast of Australia to the border of the Northern Territory. Blocked out in green was King’s Eden—a big chunk of outback country that would be the last place on earth Bobby Hewson would look for her.

It might not be the Garden of Eden, but at least it had no serpent in it. With that blessed assurance in her mind, Miranda turned the page and began reading, acutely aware of having turned a page in her life and there was only one way to go…forward.

CHAPTER TWO

“JUST tell me one thing, Mother. Why choose a woman?”

Because you need one.

And with Susan Butler finally out of your life, you might look for more than a convenient mistress.

Elizabeth King hid these thoughts as she assessed the depth of her eldest son’s annoyance at the decision she’d made. The irritable note in his voice and the V creased between his brows, plus the tense impatience of his actions since he’d entered the sitting-room, did not promise an encouraging start between Nathan and Miranda Wade, whom he was about to meet.

Running the resort was part of Tommy’s business. Running the cattle station was his, and he drew a firm line between the two enterprises. For the most part, Nathan kept his world to himself, but to Elizabeth’s mind, that had to change.

He was thirty-five years old. Time for him to get married. Time for him to have children. Passing that particular buck to his younger brothers wouldn’t wash. It was Nathan who had inherited the major share of Lachlan’s genes and Elizabeth didn’t want to see them wasted.

“I chose the person with the best qualifications to manage the resort,” she answered, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the man who was so very much his father’s son. “I wasn’t aware you held any prejudice against women taking on responsible positions, Nathan.”

He threw her a mocking look from the leather armchair he’d made his, since it was the only one big enough to accommodate his length and breadth comfortably. “Not even you could stick it out here all year around.”

That old argument wouldn’t wash, either. “I had other interests to look after, as you very well know.”

His eyes remained sceptical. “The point is, we all agreed a married couple was the best choice.”

“Fine, if the marriage is stable,” Elizabeth retorted, a pointed reminder that the last manager had left under threat of divorce by his wife. “And who is to judge how good a relationship is, on an interview where everyone puts their best foot forward? We’ve been down that track.”

“Then I would have thought a single man would cope with the location better than a single woman,” he argued.

Elizabeth shrugged. “I wasn’t impressed with the men who applied. A bit too soft for my liking.”

“So what have we got? A woman of steel?” His mouth thinned. “She’d better be, because I will not be at her beck and call to clean up any mess she makes of it. If she needs someone to hold her hand, Tommy can do it.”

“I’m sure you can make that clear to her, Nathan.” Elizabeth could not repress a satisfied little smile as she added, “If you wish to.”

Nathan’s black eyebrows beetled down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I doubt Miranda Wade would be inclined to cling to any man’s hand.” And that, my son, may well set a sexual challenge you’ll find hard to resist.

“Just what we need—a raging feminist to play charming hostess to the resort guests who expect to be pampered,” he commented derisively.

“Oh, I think someone who’s been in the hospitality trade for twelve years knows how to manage guests,” Elizabeth drawled. “But judge for yourself, Nathan. That sounds like Tommy’s vehicle arriving now. I trust you’ll make an effort to be welcoming.”

He rolled his eyes and muttered, “I’m sure Tommy will be in good form. He’ll undoubtedly cover any lapse on my part.”

True, Elizabeth thought. Her highly extroverted middle son was probably flirting his head off with Miranda Wade right now. It was second nature to Tommy to spark a response in women. He liked to be liked. But the cool blonde she’d interviewed would let his charm wash over her like water off a duck’s back. Those green eyes of hers had burned with a need to prove something to herself. They were focused inwardly, not outwardly.

It would be interesting to see if Nathan drew a flicker of awareness from her, Nathan who was what he was and you could like him or not as you pleased. He was a challenge, too. A challenge most women gave up on. Elizabeth didn’t think Miranda Wade was the giving-up type. Even so, the equation still needed the right chemistry, and no one could make that happen.

Such a capricious element—sexual chemistry—but vital. She could only hope…

Miranda had seen it from the air this morning—the area comprising the resort and the layout of the cattle station. She hadn’t realised the buildings relating to each business would be entirely separate, the “homestead” at the resort having no connection whatsoever to the family homestead. The former was of very modern design and construction. The latter, as it was approached at ground level, gathered an allure that touched an empty place in her life.

Deep roots had been put down here, the kind of roots she had never known. Nothing had been fixed or solid in her mother’s life and Miranda had been glad to get out of it, knowing she was an unwelcome reminder of her mother’s mistake, a reminder of her age, too, as well as a resented distraction to the men who’d kept her.

As soon as she was sixteen, she’d left and had been in live-in hotel positions ever since, not really letting her surroundings touch her. They were simply places that put a roof over her head. She had no sense of home, no sense of family tradition, no sense of belonging to anything except herself.

It felt strange, coming face-to-face with something so different to her own experience. No modern landscaping here. The trees that had been planted for both shade and ornament were old, the girth of their trunks and the breadth of their branches proclaiming the growth of more years than any one person’s lifetime. The intense entanglement of the multicoloured bougainvillea hedge surrounding the house indicated longevity, as well.

Like all the buildings on the cattle station, the homestead was white, set off by an expanse of green lawns. However, it sat alone, on a rise above the river, and the verandahs with their ornamentation of cast-iron balustrading and frieze panels, topped by the symmetrical peaks of its roof gave it the appearance of a shining crown on top of all the land it overlooked.

As Tommy King drove his Jeep up to the front steps, she was prompted by the sheer scale of the house to ask, “When was this built?”

“Oh, coming up ninety years ago,” he answered with one of his sparkling grins. “One of the first King brothers here—Gerald it was—saw some government official’s home in Queensland and was so impressed with it, he copied the design and had all the materials shipped to Wyndham.”

Cost no object, Miranda thought, recalling from the book she’d read that the first pioneering King brothers had mined a fortune in gold at Kalgoorlie before taking up this land.

“It’s very impressive,” she murmured, thinking houses simply weren’t built to such huge proportions any more. Certainly not in suburbia, she amended, smiling ruefully at her limited knowledge.

“It used to serve many purposes in the old days,” Tommy cheerfully explained. “Everyone lived in and travellers passing through stopped by for days to rest up. Hospitality has always been big in the outback.”

“I guess it broke the sense of isolation,” Miranda remarked.

“Well, taking to the air fixes that now,” he answered, his handsome face beaming pleasure in the accessibility he provided.

She’d learnt he owned and ran an airline company from Kununurra, small plane and helicopter charters making up the bulk of his business, much of which was connected to the resort. Tommy King was a go-getter entrepreneur, with the confidence, likeable personality and gift of the gab that could sell anything. Most of all himself.

Miranda wasn’t about to buy. The charm came too easily, and while he might be a shrewd businessman and definitely no lightweight for a man only in his early thirties, he had playboy looks; a riot of black curly hair that bobbed endearingly over his forehead, dark dancing eyes inviting flirtatious fun, a face as handsome as sin, and a lean, athletic body exuding charismatic energy and sex appeal.

She’d been in his company since he’d collected her from Kununurra airport this morning and as an informative guide he was excellent, but she was determined on keeping a very firm personal distance between them. The likes of Tommy King could not tempt her into mixing business with pleasure. She hoped he was getting that message because she certainly didn’t want an awkward situation developing between them.

“This place is getting to be like a white elephant now,” he commented as he brought the Jeep to a halt. “Wasted…” He shook his head over the wicked shame of it. “Guests would probably give their eye-teeth to stay here, but Nathan just won’t hear of it.” He grimaced, though his dark eyes twinkled cheerfully at her as he added, “Like a brick wall, my brother.”

Nathan…oldest son of Elizabeth and Lachlan. Just as well she had studied the family tree in the book on King’s Eden. The people she’d met so far assumed she knew these details about the Kings as well as they did.

“It’s understandable that he prefers privacy for his family,” Miranda said, thinking some things came ahead of turning everything into dollars.

“If he ever got himself married and had a family, I’d agree,” Tommy shot back at her. “As it is, he’s here by himself most of the time, and that doesn’t look like changing.”

He alighted from the Jeep, quickly striding around it to open Miranda’s door for her. She had little time to digest this new information. The invitation to dine with the family at the old homestead tonight had seemed to encompass more than the actual reality of one man. Two, counting Tommy.

“I thought Mrs King lived here, too,” she said as she stepped out of the Jeep.

“Not on any regular basis. Mum’s fairly tied up in Broome, managing the pearl farm…”

Pearls…

He grinned. “…but she flew in yesterday to be on hand to greet you and make sure everything is to your satisfaction.”

Her inner tension eased. She wouldn’t be the only woman at the dinner table. Elizabeth King would undoubtedly direct the conversation tonight and provide a comfort zone. Miranda smiled. “How kind of her!”

Tommy laughed. “Mum is a diplomat from way back.”

They proceeded up the steps, Miranda wondering just how different the two brothers were and how much their mother had to work at welding their separate interests into a reasonably harmonious unit. “Isn’t there a third son?” she asked tentatively, her mind seeing three names listed in print—Nathan, Thomas, Jared.

But the book on King’s Eden had been written some years ago. She had assumed marriages would have taken place since then. Having been wrong on that score with Tommy and Nathan, and with no mention being made of a younger brother from Tommy, she wondered if something had happened to the third son.

“Oh, Jared flits around the mining operations and oversees what’s done with the pearls. He’s hardly ever here,” came the offhand reply. “You’ll probably meet him some time or other but not tonight. I think he’s in Hong Kong at the moment.”

Mining operations…

Miranda did a very quick mental readjustment about the King family. What she was meeting here was very serious wealth, on a similar scale, if not higher, than the Hewson family. All three of the King brothers would be used to getting what they wanted, just as Bobby was. When they married, it would undoubtedly be into a family who had connections to their business interests and could probably broaden and enhance them. That was the way their kind of world worked.

She was an outsider, an employee who had her uses. Miranda resolved to keep those uses strictly defined. No blurred lines. However attractive any of the King men were, they were out of bounds in any personal sense.

She would never allow herself to be flattered by Tommy’s show of interest. If Nathan had a brick wall around him, it could stay totally intact, as far as she was concerned. Jared was more or less out of the picture so she didn’t have the problem of proximity with him.

Best to concentrate completely on Elizabeth King tonight.

With this decision firmly settled in her mind, Miranda’s attention turned to observing features of the house she was entering. Leadlight windows surrounded the solid cedar door Tommy opened for her. As she stepped into the main entrance hall, she realised it ran right through to the back of the house and actually formed a gallery of framed photographs. A collection of King’s Eden history, she wondered, but didn’t have the opportunity to look.

Tommy walked straight to the first door off the hallway and ushered her into a sitting room so full of riches, she was momentarily dazed by all there was to see. Much of the decor had an Asian influence, yet there seemed be an eclectic range of styles that somehow melded together into a fascinating collection.

Her skating gaze was halted—joltingly—by the man rising from a large leather armchair, a man whose length seemed to climb up like a mountain, blocking everything else out. He had to be well over six foot, broad-shouldered, broad-chested, one of the biggest men Miranda had ever met, and all of him emitting hard muscular strength that gave way to nothing.

Unaccountably a convulsive little shiver ran down her spine. His sheer physical presence had an impact that seemed to hit her whole nervous system, leaving her with an odd tremulous feeling that was deeply disturbing. He wasn’t threatening her. He stood out of courtesy. She had no cause to feel…vulnerable.

With a sense of self-determination, Miranda made eye contact with him and plastered a polite little smile on her face. His face could have been carved out of brown granite—all hard, sharp planes. Even the curves of his mouth seemed carved, defined emphatically, as though to deny any softness. Absolutely nothing “pretty-playboy” about Nathan King.

His thick black hair was straight. His black brows were straight. And cutting straight across the room at her were laser-sharp blue eyes, the vivid intensity of their colour made all the more stunning by his darkly tanned skin. Miranda felt utterly pinned by them, unable to break their captivating power…until Elizabeth King spoke.

“Welcome to King’s Eden…”

Miranda jerked her head towards the distinctive, familiar voice. The woman who had hired her sat on an ornately carved armchair, its rich scarlet and gold silk upholstery forming a striking frame for her white hair and white pantsuit. And the beautiful pearls around her neck.

“It’s both a pleasure and a privilege to be here, Mrs King,” Miranda managed to reply with creditable aplomb. “Thank you for inviting me.”

The older woman was smiling, her dark eyes warm with some private satisfaction. She waved attention back to her son. “This is Nathan, who has the controlling hand on the station. Miranda Wade, Nathan, our new resort manager.”

He remained precisely where he was, sizing her up, silent, formidable, daunting, challenging. For a moment, Miranda remained pinned, but the long years of training for greeting people urged her forward. Taking the initiative always broke the ice. She had to associate with this man, when business required his co-operation. Some kind of reasonable footing with him had to be developed.

Yet all the stern reasoning in her mind had no strengthening effect on her legs. They were alarmingly shaky as she stepped forward to offer her hand to Nathan King. This was a man who would dominate everything he touched…and she was about to touch him.

CHAPTER THREE

NATHAN was stunned. He’d seen many beautiful women but none quite as striking as this one. From head to foot she was something else…built on a scale that accentuated every womanly asset. And she certainly had them all!

She almost matched Tommy in height, which had to put her close to six feet tall and she wasn’t wearing high heels. Her hair was an instant tactile temptation, a softly curved fall to her shoulders, gleaming with a fascinating blend of blonde shades from silver to strawberry.

The classical perfection of her face was made even more intriguing by the slight cleft at the centre of her chinline, and the long neck below it promised an alluring suppleness. Her honey-gold skin glowed—face, arms, legs—all bare, and her limbs were as perfectly proportioned as her face.

She wore a rather high-necked, sleeveless dress that skimmed her lushly curved figure, the skirt flaring to just above her knees, a modest dress but boldly coloured in an abstract floral pattern on black. Splotches of lemon, orange, lime green, turquoise, royal blue seemed to leap off the black background, a dazzling kaleidoscope of colour. On her feet were strappy lemon sandals.

A very confident woman, Nathan thought, prepared to stand out rather than blend in. A strong individual. Certainly no shy violet or clinging vine. A long dormant excitement began to stir in him. This might be a woman worth knowing…an experience worth having.

The visual pleasure of her was too enticing to give up. He stayed where he stood, letting her move forward to formalise his mother’s introduction. Lovely, almond-shaped, green eyes, as uniquely distinctive as the rest of her. Honey-brown lashes and brows. Was the hair-colour natural?

“I’m delighted to meet you, Mr King,” she said with cool deliberation as she held out her hand.

Establishing impersonal distance.

Nathan barely stopped himself from grinning at the implicit challenge as he gripped her hand, enfolding it in his own, liking the soft, silky warmth of it. His smile was controlled into a mere expression of friendly acknowledgement. Playing the stand-offish game suited him just as well, while he took her measure.

“Even the children on the station call me Nathan, so please feel comfortable with it,” he assured her. “And since the resort also operates on a first name basis, I trust I may call you Miranda.”

“Of course,” she answered smoothly, starting to extract her hand.

Nathan did not resist the movement, finding it interesting she felt the need to break the physical link with him so quickly. It wasn’t exactly a rude rejection of contact, more a discomfort with it. Did she sense what she was stirring in him? Was she stirred herself? Her eyes reflected no more than the obliging interest of an employee to an employer, not so much as a hint of speculation on a woman to man basis.

His mother’s words came back to him… I doubt Miranda Wade would be inclined to cling to any man’s hand.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, wondering if she was a raging feminist. “My mother’s having champagne…”

“A glass of water would be fine,” she quickly interposed.

Keeping a cool head, Nathan thought as he nodded and disconnected himself from her by turning to his brother. “A beer for you, Tommy?”

“Thanks, Nathan,” came the ready agreement.

He left them to sort out seating while he got the drinks from the bar in the adjoining billiard room. Miranda Wade was not a woman to be rushed. That much was obvious. He had the impression there were many layers to her, not an easy woman to tag in any sense.

He wondered how Tommy was faring with her. His brother had spent most of the day in her company. Had he managed to draw any sparks of interest? Resolving to simply sit and watch the interplay between them, Nathan returned with the drinks, ironically amused at the way this meeting was turning out. His annoyance with his mother’s decision had winked out the moment Miranda Wade had appeared in person.

She’d chosen to sit in an armchair close to his mother, right across the room from where he’d been seated. Tommy bridged the gap, having dropped onto a sofa that could have invited sharing, but that option had not been taken up by the fair Miranda. She nodded to a drink coaster on the small table beside her as Nathan approached and gave him a flashing smile of acknowledgement when he set the glass down where she’d indicated.

“Thank you,” she said, breaking briefly from her conversation with his mother, then instantly resuming it.

Done with grace, but holding him at a very firm distance, Nathan observed. He didn’t linger, didn’t attempt to draw her attention. A two-year contract gave him plenty of time to make her acquaintance. He strolled over to Tommy and handed him the beer.

“Happy with the choice?” he asked quietly, watching for any reservation in his brother’s expressive eyes.

“Are you?” Tommy retorted, mischief dancing.

Nathan shrugged. “Your business, Tommy.”

“An asset, I think.” Definitely male appreciation in the gaze he slanted at Miranda. However his mouth made a wry little moue as he added, “Mind very focused on the job.”

“Glad to hear it,” Nathan murmured and moved back to his chair, content with the confirmation that his brother’s charm had failed to evoke the usual response.

This now promised to be a most interesting evening. Didn’t feminists preach wanting men, not needing them? Sexual freedom? Taking as they pleased? What if Miranda Wade wanted what he wanted?

Miranda was grateful the meal had been easy to eat—prawns cooked with coconut and served with a mango sauce, followed by barramundi, and now a melt-in-the-mouth passion-fruit mousse. Dining with the Kings was certainly a testing experience, but she thought she’d managed the evening reasonably well, given the unnerving presence of the man at the head of the table.

Nathan had barely said a word during the dinner conversation, but she was acutely aware of him listening to everything she said, the turn of his head towards her, the silent force of his concentrated attention. She sensed he was cataloguing her questions, her responses, her opinions, building up a picture of the kind of person she was while giving nothing of himself away.

The worst of it was, she kept remembering how his hand had felt, wrapped around hers. Maybe it was because he was the cattle King, but the impression he had left was one of branding her with his imprint. She wished he wasn’t quite so big, so overwhelmingly male. It made her ridiculously conscious of being female, disconcertingly so since not even Bobby Hewson had triggered such a disturbingly pervasive effect on her.

Fortunately, both Tommy, sitting across the table from her, and Elizabeth King at the foot of it, had been very relaxed in their manner towards her, friendly, helpful, informative. And the dining room itself was a fascinating distraction from the man who dominated too much of it.

All the furniture here was of beautiful, polished mahogany. China cabinets held a magnificent array of treasures. The paintings on the walls were of birds and executed in splendid detail. Everything looked in mint condition and Miranda wondered about the household staff. Dinner had been served by a middle-aged woman, introduced as Nancy, but there had to be several people looking after this amazing place.

Elizabeth King casually remarked, “I think it would be a good idea for Miranda to do the regular tourist trips before the season really gets underway at the resort. She should know at firsthand what she’s recommending to guests.”

Tommy frowned. “Sam’s still laid up with a sprained ankle…”

Miranda had already met Samantha Connelly, the resident helicopter pilot at the resort, a generally pleasant young woman, though bluntly terse in response to Tommy’s teasing over her temporary handicap.

“I’m flying down to the Bungle Bungle Range, day after tomorrow. Miranda can come with me if she likes.”

The words were spoken offhandedly, yet coming so unexpectedly from Nathan, they had the effect of a thunderbolt cracking through the air, jolting the rest of the company.

Tommy’s head swivelled towards his older brother. “You?”

The astonishment in his voice heightened the weird panic attacking Miranda’s stomach. She had to force herself to glance at the man who was offering her his company on a one-to-one basis. It felt as though her whole body was screaming danger. Yet there was nothing on his face to indicate any special interest in her.

He raised an eyebrow at Tommy as though his brother was over-reacting to a perfectly natural suggestion. “Some problem?” he asked.

“And never the twain shall meet except during the June muster,” Tommy drily taunted. “Here it is only March, Nathan, and you’re offering to help with resort business?”

“Hardly business,” he retorted just as drily. “I’m making the trip anyway. It’s an opportunity going begging if Miranda wants to take it up.”

His gaze swung to her inquiringly.

Trapped in a small plane or helicopter with him? Her mind scurried to find some excuse not to accept.

“What are you going for?” Tommy asked, giving her more time.

The mesmerising blue eyes released her as they targeted his brother again. “The head park ranger wants to borrow the Sarah King diaries on the local Aboriginal tribes. Background reading. I said I’d drop them in to him.”

“Well, that fixes one trip for you, Miranda,” Elizabeth King said brightly, her face beaming satisfaction.

“But, Mrs King, the day after tomorrow…” Miranda frowned. “I see this week as very busy, getting myself familiarised with the workings of the resort and checking the intake of staff for the season. Much as I appreciate the offer, Nathan—” she quickly constructed a look of apologetic appeal “—I have barely arrived and…”

“Best to go while you can, Miranda,” Elizabeth King interjected firmly. “Besides, it won’t be taking up Samantha’s time or using one of Tommy’s pilots. This is much the more economical arrangement.”

Which neatly whipped the mat out from under Miranda’s feet, since insistence on some other time would cost the resort money.

“A dawn trip, Nathan?” his mother went on, having dispensed with any further protest from Miranda.

“Oh, I daresay we can catch the sunrise,” he answered.

Miranda sat seething as they settled the arrangements between them, totally ignoring whether what was being decided suited her or not. The arrogance of wealth, she thought, moving people around like pawns to their will. She barely quelled the urge to make a stand against them. The problem was she wasn’t familiar with the outback and firsthand experience of it probably was important in handling her job well.

And, in fact, she wouldn’t be objecting at all if it wasn’t Nathan she had to accompany. He rattled her. She didn’t feel in control with him. Get a grip on yourself, Miranda, she sternly berated herself. Like it or not, she had to deal with Nathan King, and maybe getting to know him better was the best way. He might lose his attraction on closer acquaintance.

“I’ll have you back at the resort by noon,” he assured her.

Six hours close to him. “Thank you,” she said, her heart fluttering in agitation.

“What do you think of it?”

“Pardon?” What was he referring to?

His eyes glinted with amused mockery, making her even more nervous. Did he sense how she felt about him?

“The resort. Since you’ve always held a city position, I wondered how it looked to you. I presume Tommy took you on a tour of it this afternoon.”

“The accommodation sectors are exceptionally well planned,” she could answer with confidence. “The homestead is brilliantly located, and the decor very attractive. Everything looks top class.”

One eyebrow rose challengingly. “No sinking heart feeling? No uneasy twang of, What have I done?”

She laughed and shook her head. “More, How marvellous! I’m really looking forward to taking over and making the best of it.”

“A new world for you.”

“Yes.”

“Most people hang onto the world they know.”

“I guess I’m not most people.”

“An adventuress? Looking for something different?”

“More satisfying a need for something different.”

“Then I hope all your needs are satisfied here.”

“That would indeed be Eden.”

He laughed, his whole face springing alive so strikingly, Miranda was totally captivated by it. Her mind was zinging from the quick repartee between them and her body was pumping adrenaline so fast, every part of her felt highly invigorated.

His eyes literally danced with pleasure, shooting tingles of it into her bloodstream as he remarked, “I tend to think Eden is what we fashion for ourselves. It seems to me that’s what our choices are about…aiming for what will give us a happy situation.”

She was suddenly hit by a shockwave of intimacy that had to be turned back. Common sense insisted on ringing down a warning that life wasn’t quite as easy as that. “Unfortunately we can’t control the choices other people make,” she replied, her eyes trying to cool the warmth in his. “And that can create a hell for us.”

“You can always walk away.”

“But will they respect that?”

“Make them.”

“I’m not quite as big as you, Nathan,” she retorted lightly.

He smiled. “But you do have a mind of your own, Miranda. And very interesting it is.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, I should be thanking you. I’m sure you will take any boredom out of our trip together.”

Miranda’s breath caught in her throat. He didn’t mean the flight to the Bungle Bungle Range. She knew he didn’t. He meant the continuing journey of a close acquaintance spreading over the two years she was going to be here. And that was going to be very, very dangerous to any peace of mind.

“Well, don’t forget to be a tour guide, as well, Nathan,” Tommy drawled. “This is resort business.”

Was there a touch of resentment in his voice. A flash of sibling rivalry? Miranda quickly switched her attention to the man whose interests she would be looking after. “I’ll make the most of the trip, Tommy,” she assured him. “I know how essential it is that I do.” She mustn’t—not for one moment—forget her place.

He nodded.

“I’m sure you’ll find it an amazing experience,” Elizabeth King put in with an approving smile.

Miranda hoped so. She would need every amazing distraction she could get to keep holding Nathan King at a distance.

CHAPTER FOUR

NEEDING to push Nathan King out of her mind and gain a sense of control over her immediate environment, Miranda filled her first morning at King’s Eden with a staff meeting. Since the resort was only open from the beginning of April to the end of November, the full complement of employees was not yet in residence, but the maintenance crew and those in charge of each accommodation level and amenities rolled up to meet and assess their new manager.

Miranda was very aware of not having the firsthand knowledge of this area, while those facing her did. She’d had no experience of the Big Wet, the monsoonal rains that made much of the Top End of Australia inaccessible by road during the summer months, but the oppressive heat outside was enough to convince her the December to March period was not a good time to travel to this part of the outback for sight-seeing, even by air. She blessed the fact the resort homestead was air-conditioned, or she’d be wilting in front of these people.

They had spread themselves around the large living area, which had been designed for the pleasure and comfort of top-paying guests. The slate floor in blue-green hues looked invitingly cool and the cane furniture with its brightly patterned cushions lent a relaxing, tropical feel to the room. Aboriginal artefacts and paintings were reminders of how close visitors were to an ancient heritage. A wall of glass gave a view of the resort pool and some of the outdoors chairs had been brought inside to accommodate everyone.

Miranda had deliberately chosen this normally exclusive leisure room as the gathering place, wanting to set the tone of a top team getting together. The resort restaurant was used for staff meetings when business was in full swing, but this was only the key group who would be answering directly to her and she needed to get them onside.

They all wore casual clothes, shorts and T-shirts, a different vision of staff for her, accustomed as she was to more formal uniforms. Miranda had donned a lime-green sleeveless shift, wanting the effect of both dignity and simplicity, and she’d wound her hair up for a look of neat efficiency, but she quickly decided that tailored safari shorts and shirt were more the style for this resort. Stupid to look out of place.

Apart from a couple of men on the maintenance crew, everyone else was younger than she was, very young in terms of managerial positions. Understandable in such a location, she quickly reasoned. A spirit of adventure had probably brought them here, wanting the outback experience while they were still footloose and fancy free, or at least not tied down with families.

She spent most of the meeting asking questions, listening to reports, inviting suggestions for resolving problems, which were raised, keeping discussions open while she absorbed the easy camaraderie amongst the staff and made notes on the practicalities of getting things done in time for the beginning of the season.

Over and over again, mention was made of problems caused by cancelling the regular time-off for the transient service staff. They went stir-crazy, becoming careless and rude to guests. Breaks away from the isolation of the resort restored their good humour. It only raised trouble if too many bookings required the postponing of leave.

Miranda took on board that everyone was keen for her to understand this. Isolation was a very real social problem. Her mind drifted to the King family…a hundred years of living in isolation…Nathan running the cattle station…alone, unmarried. Did he ever feel stir-crazy? Would she, here at King’s Eden?

Paradise or hell?

Too late to change her decision to take this job on, Miranda sternly reminded herself. Whatever its difficulties, she would see it through. Nathan had been subtly challenging her on that last night. Her jaw tightened as she recalled his amused mockery. She would show him!

Having collected all the information she wanted from her staff, Miranda brought the meeting to a close with a personal policy statement, emphasising that good hospitality depended on good communication and she didn’t want any breakdowns in that area. Anticipation of guest requirements was her other main point and she would be instituting checks that would help to ensure this.

The response was nods and smiles of satisfaction. Having memorised names throughout the morning, Miranda made a point of using them as the dispersing staff made friendly parting comments. Samantha Connelly, the injured helicopter pilot, stayed behind, her sprained ankle propped on a footstool.

“Do you need help?” Miranda asked with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m here to help you,” was the dry reply. “Until I can throw away these wretched crutches.”

She leaned over the side of the armchair to pick up the resented aids to her disability. Sensing a fierce independence Miranda made no move to do it for her. She admired the head of burnished copper curls as it bobbed down and noticed the well-defined musculature in the young woman’s arms. Samantha Connelly was built on a smaller and more slender scale than Miranda herself, but she was certainly lithe and strong.

“I hate being hobbled,” she muttered as her face came up, though her expression was one of wry resignation as she added, “Stuck in an office instead of flying high.”

“I didn’t realise you did office work, as well,” Miranda said in surprise.

“Oh, I fill in, taking the resort bookings at the Kununurra Headquarters during the Wet. Not so much charter business then. I’ve loaded all the facts and figures into your computer here, so if you need a hand with anything until your clerical assistant clocks on…”

“I’d appreciate it,” Miranda said warmly.

“No problem.” Samantha slid her leg off the footstool and heaved herself out of the armchair.

Miranda had the impression of a pride that would always deny personal problems and minimise others as much as possible. The young pilot had a rather narrow, gamine face, her fair skin liberally freckled, yet an innate strength of character seemed to shine through its finely boned structure and her sky-blue eyes would undoubtedly scorn any suggestion of cuteness.

“How did you get into flying?” Miranda asked, as they set off towards the wide hallway that bisected the homestead and led to the administration and accommodation wings.

“I was born to it,” came the dismissive reply. “Since I’m currently grounded, I guess Tommy jumped in and offered to fly you around the regular tours.” She slanted Miranda a derisive look. “Only too eager to show you the sights, I’ll bet.”

Caution was instantly pricked. “Why should he be eager, Samantha?”

“Call me Sam. Everyone else does.” Another derisive look. “And if you didn’t notice Tommy’s tongue hanging out yesterday, I sure did. To put it bluntly, Miranda, you’re stacked in all the right places and gorgeous to boot. So don’t tell me he didn’t give you the rush.”

Jealousy? The acid little thread in Sam’s tone alerted Miranda to very sensitive ground here. “Well, I guess the rush got diverted,” she answered dryly. “In any event I’m not interested in a personal relationship with Tommy King.”

“You’re not?” Sam stopped, eyeing Miranda with sheer astonishment. “Most women fall for him like ninepins.”

She shrugged. “You can chalk up a miss as far as I’m concerned.”

A gleeful grin lit up Sam’s face. “I’ve never known Tommy strike out. What a lovely dent in his ego!”

“Do you know him very well?”

“Too well.” The grin turned into a grimace. “Like I’m the kid sister he never had. I’ve been working for the Kings for years, mustering cattle, even before the resort was built.”

Which explained the familiarity between Sam and Tommy, the teasing and her disrespectful responses yesterday. “Then you must know Nathan well, too.” The words slipped out before Miranda could bite on her tongue. She didn’t want to reveal any curiosity about him. She didn’t even want to think about him.

“I know all of them well,” Sam replied with feeling, sounding exasperated by them or their family attitudes.

She set off down the hall again and Miranda kept pace with her, grateful the subject was apparently dropped.

“Come to think of it,” Sam muttered. “It’s not like Tommy to give up.” She frowned at Miranda. “Didn’t he even line up one trip with you?”

Miranda stifled a sigh. No point in hiding what would soon be common knowledge. “Nathan is flying me to the Bungle Bungle Range tomorrow,” she stated flatly.

“Nathan?” Another dead halt as Sam stared wide-eyed at her. “Nathan’s taking you?”

“He’s going anyway,” Miranda explained, trying to keep a terse note out of her voice. “He plans to take some old diaries about the Aboriginal tribes to the park ranger there.”

Sam’s mouth twitched. Her eyes danced with inner hilarity. “Nothing to do with you, of course.”

“Just a ready opportunity,” Miranda said dismissively.

Sam laughed out loud. “Oh, I wish I could have seen Tommy’s face when Nathan beat him to the draw.”

She chuckled on and off, little bursts of private amusement, all the way to the main administration office. Miranda hid her vexation behind silence, disdaining any comment, yet the memory of Tommy’s face at the dinner table last night kept playing through her mind.

She hoped the two King brothers were not going to make her the meat in their sandwich. Would they respect her choice not to get personally involved with either of them? It could become very unpleasant if they didn’t.

Miranda’s stomach was churning by the time she and Sam finally settled in the office, both of them in chairs, facing the computer on her desk. She needed to get her thoughts focused on business again. Tomorrow morning she would face what she had to with Nathan King. Until then…

“He’s free,” Sam said with a sidelong look at her.

“I beg your pardon?” Miranda answered distractedly, watching the monitor screen as the computer went through its start procedure.

“Nathan…he’s unattached right now. The woman he was seeing got married. He hasn’t started up with anyone else yet.”

“Well, I guess he’s feeling rejected,” Miranda commented, hoping she sounded careless, though she was amazed that Nathan King had been turned down for some other man.

“Oh, she didn’t reject him. It wasn’t that kind of relationship. Just casual lovers, really, though it did go on for a few years.”

Miranda gritted her teeth as anger blazed through her. Casual lovers! More like a convenient mistress who finally wised up and got herself a man who really loved her. If Nathan King was harbouring the idea that she could now fall into that convenient slot, he could think again. One way or another she would make her position very clear to him tomorrow.

“Shall we get down to business?” she said coldly, drawing a startled glance from Sam.

“Sure! Just thought you might like to know about Nathan.”

“I know all I need to know, Sam. He’s a member of the King family. Okay?”

Wide blue eyes met green ice and curiosity was instantly quenched. “Fine!” Sam’s gaze snapped to the monitor screen. “The bookings are listed in time sequence and…”

Finally…business!

Miranda savagely recalled Tommy King saying Nathan was a brick wall. She vowed that the cattle King would meet a steel wall tomorrow, with barbed wire on top to deter any attempt at scaling it.

CHAPTER FIVE

MIRANDA was already at the resort helipad when Nathan pulled up in his Jeep. She had arrived five minutes before the arranged time of meeting, driving one of the luggage buggies, which she’d commandeered for her use. Being early made her feel more prepared, more on top of the situation.

Even so, Nathan swung himself out of the Jeep and Miranda’s breath caught in her throat. Regardless of her mental shields, his physical impact got to her, a big blast of strong maleness that instantly set everything female in her aquiver. Like herself, he was dressed in shorts, shirt, walking boots, a hat in one hand, a backpack dangling from his shoulder, but he emanated purposeful vitality while she felt hopelessly paralysed.

“Good morning,” he said, shooting a smile at her that jump-started her heart again. “We’ve struck it lucky with a cloudless sky. A clear sunrise makes the colours more vivid.”

“Yes, it is a good morning,” she agreed, though it promised a hot, hot day to come. In more ways than one, given her instinctive response to him.

He waved her towards the helicopter on the pad and she fell into step beside him, concentrating on injecting more steel into her spine.

“Have you read anything about the Bungle Bungle Range?” he asked.

“Only what was in the tour pamphlet.”

“Well, seeing says it all.”

Clearly he was not interested in lecturing or showing off his local knowledge, but his interest in her was twinkling from his eyes and playing havoc with Miranda’s nerves.

“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked.

“No,” she instantly denied, wondering if she looked tired from last night’s tossing and turning over this meeting. “Why should I?” she challenged, wanting to pin-point the reason for his speculation.

“Oh, the quiet sometimes gets to city people. They miss the background noise, and other things they’re used to.”

Like sex?

Miranda found her jaw clenching and mentally berated herself for being ultra-sensitive. On the surface his comment was perfectly reasonable. On the surface he wasn’t saying or doing anything she could take objection to. But under the surface she felt the buzz of possibilities that were far from innocent.

“The last two days have been so busy, I guess the quiet hasn’t impressed itself on me yet,” she answered.

“It will,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’ll come to like it or hate it. One thing can be said definitively about the outback. It very quickly sorts out the visitors and the stayers.”

“So I understand. I’ve been told there can be a stir-crazy problem with some of the staff if they don’t get regular leave.” That moved the conversation to a more impersonal level!

“Not just with staff,” he returned drily. “Most women I’ve known.”

He slanted her a look that seemed to be weighing if she had the grit to be a stayer. It set Miranda wondering about the woman who’d chosen to marry someone else…a woman who didn’t want to spend her life on a cattle station? But why would Nathan King keep the relationship going for years if it hadn’t suited him?

“There must be women who were born and bred to the outback like you,” she said pertinently. “Like Sam Connelly.”

“Ah, Sam,” he said in a tone of fond indulgence. He slid her an ironic look. “There aren’t many like Sam, believe me, and she only has eyes for Tommy. One of these days he might stop chasing glitter and see the gold right under his nose.”

Was that true about Sam? Miranda tucked the information away for future reference and targeted the man who was criticising his brother. “Perhaps he’s not inclined to look. Some men don’t want real commitment to a woman.”

“Is that personal experience speaking?”

Bitterly personal. Miranda barely stemmed a burning rush of blood as she fought those memories, determined not to reveal her humiliation to a man who’d spent two years pleasuring himself with a woman he must have considered unsuitable for marriage. Why else would he have let her go to another man? With cool deliberation Miranda turned the question back on him.

“I was just wondering why you haven’t found gold somewhere in this vast Kimberly region.”

His mouth quirked, drawing her attention to its sensual promise. “Funny thing about gold. It has certain chemical properties. If they’re missing it’s just fool’s gold.”

“Maybe they’re missing for Tommy,” she argued, all too aware of the chemistry Nathan tapped in her.

“No. He covers it with teasing. Sam covers it with aggression. And Tommy’s damned fool ego gets in the way. He’d add you to his pride list if he could.”

They’d crossed the ground to the helicopter. Nathan opened the door for her. Miranda didn’t immediately step up to the passenger seat. She stood stockstill, her mind whirling back over her evening with the Kings…Nathan, stand-offish, watching, only inserting himself when Tommy was considering taking her on tour trips. Had she got Nathan’s purpose with her entirely wrong? Nothing to do with sexual attraction?

She eyed him directly. “Is this what today is about, Nathan? Putting yourself between me and Tommy to save Sam’s feelings?”

He returned a look that simmered with appreciative warmth, liking her bluntness. “From what I observed, you’re not particularly drawn to him, Miranda. But Tommy doesn’t give up easily…”

Sam’s words!

“…and as time goes on, you might find yourself getting bored enough to play with his interest. Proximity and availability tend to overcome other shortcomings.”

“I see. You’re warning me off.”

“No. It’s your choice. I don’t believe in interfering with people’s choices. I’d be sorry to see Sam hurt, though. It’s one thing knowing Tommy drifts in and out of affairs, quite another watching one at close quarters.”

“I take your point,” she conceded, knowing she wasn’t interested in getting involved with Tommy King anyway.

Nathan nodded, then suddenly grinned at her, his blue eyes dancing with more than appreciation. “Besides, I’d much prefer you to relieve your boredom with me.”

“What?” Her mouth fell open and stayed open in surprise at the abrupt switch from do-gooding friend of Sam to man making a move on her.

Miranda barely had time to register his words, let alone his intent as he stepped closer, cupped her cheek, tilted her chin, and with his eyes blazing into hers, wickedly inviting, teasing, wanting, he murmured, “Let’s try it, shall we?”

Then he was kissing her, soft, seductive pressures that kept her shocked in stillness. She hadn’t been expecting it, wasn’t prepared for it, and his very gentleness was both confusing and tantalising. It was a take, but there was nothing really offensive about…about the way his mouth was loving hers. Yet he really had no right to just do it like this. She should stop it. Where would it lead? Where could it lead?

She lifted her hands. They clamped onto his chest, but instead of pushing, they found a magnetic attraction to the heat and muscle behind his shirt, and somehow they couldn’t stop sliding up to the big, broad shoulders that were on a higher level than hers, which was a new experience…reaching up to a man…and it sparked a swarm of previously thwarted female feelings…a man whose physique more than complemented her own too generous body length.

The temptation to feel what it was like with such a man as Nathan King—just this once—dissolved all the reasons why she shouldn’t. It was only a kiss, which he was delicately deepening, inviting her active participation, promising a pleasurable exploration that would satisfy her curiosity. No force involved. No danger attached to it. She could back out any time she liked, dismissing the impulse to taste as inconsequential.

He knew how to kiss. He was very good at it. So distractingly good she was barely aware of his hands sliding around her waist, though her whole body was instantly and acutely conscious of his when he hauled her against him. But by then that was what she wanted, to feel more of him, revelling in the dominant maleness he emitted and incredibly excited by it.

Hungry, urgent kisses, a gathering passion for them, and her hands climbing, clutching his head, pulling him down to her, her body arching into his, pinned there by his hands, engulfed by a sweet storm of sensation, riding with it until the growing hardness of his wanting sparked some shred of sanity in her mind, and the shock of her susceptibility to Nathan King’s attraction took hold.

She grabbed his ears and forced his head up. He stared at her, his eyes hot and glazed, steaming with rampant desire. She stared back, panic clutching her stomach where he was pressed so explicitly against her, panic screeching through her mind at having let this…this foolish experiment…go so far.

“You’re right,” he muttered gruffly. “Not the time or place.”

Before she had wits to make any reply, he collected himself and moved, scooping her off her feet and lifting her onto the passenger seat of the helicopter as effortlessly as though she were some lightweight doll.

“Throw your hat and bag on the back seat,” he instructed, and closed the door, sealing her into position.

Miranda was a trembling mess, her mind stuck in a maze of incredulity…unanswerable questions about herself and her totally inappropriate and shamingly intimate response to a man she barely knew and didn’t want to know. Even now, her body was in revolt at having been deprived of what it had wanted from him.

Chemistry!

How did one switch it off?

One solution zipped through her squirming confusion. Get out of the helicopter! She didn’t have to go with him or even be with him. She found the handle to open the door. Then a surge of pride insisted running away was not the most effective move to deal with this.

She had a choice to make here and she had to make Nathan King respect her choice. Her contract at King’s Eden ran two years and there was no way of avoiding him for two years. A stand had to be taken. Words said. He had to be convinced there was never going to be a right time or place for what he wanted from her. No way was she going to fall into the Bobby Hewson trap again.

She’d barely remembered to toss her hat and bag onto the back seat before Nathan King hauled himself into the space beside her, triggering an awful sense of vulnerability. She fastened her seat-belt and did her utmost to ignore his impact on her senses as he settled himself.

“Have to get moving if we’re to catch the sunrise,” he said, handing her a set of headphones and linking up the electronics.

Thankfully he switched on the ignition and busied himself with getting them off the ground. Miranda donned the headphones, which drowned out the noise and allowed her to speak to him but decided any talking was best done later. After she had calmed down. When she could choose her words carefully, not in heat. And when being in the wretchedly small space of this helicopter didn’t make her feel so crowded by him.

Determined on shutting him out for the duration of the flight, Miranda resolved to keep her gaze trained strictly on the view. Which was what she was here for…firsthand knowledge of tourist territory…and which she proceeded to do, once they were in the air.

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