She didn’t look like anyone’s kid sister!

Where had Sam’s freckles gone? Her face was pure come-hither, her mouth painted with soft lipstick, her eyes somehow bigger and more luminous.

Her eyes fastened on Tommy…delivering a sharp kick to his heart. The sultry look she was giving him simmered with sexual promises. His skin suddenly tingled from the top of his scalp to his toes. Countless times he had told himself he didn’t want Sam Connelly. But this wasn’t the Sam he knew. This was…

Samantha!

And if ever there was a walking invitation to discover another side of Sam, this was it!

Dear Reader,

Last year I chartered a plane to fly me from Broome, the pearling capital of the world, right across the Kimberley 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 Tommy and Samantha’s story. Jared’s will come next in The Pleasure King’s Bride, on-sale August 2000, #2122. These romances encompass the timeless, primitive challenge of the Australian outback, and a touch of what the Aboriginals call “The Dreamtime.”

With love,

The Playboy King’s Wife
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

AUTHOR’S NOTE

CHAPTER ONE

A KING family wedding…but it wasn’t hers and Tommy’s as she’d dreamed of so many times.

Even as Samantha Connelly told herself it was a terrible thing to envy people she really liked and wished well, the feeling would not go away. In another hour or so, Miranda Wade would be exchanging marriage vows with Nathan King, their love for each other would be shining out of them, and Sam just knew she was going to be sick with envy.

The worst of it was, there was no way to avoid seeing this wedding through at close quarters. As the one and only bridesmaid, she couldn’t wander off and lose herself amongst the crowd of guests. She had to be on hand, performing her duties as helper of the bride, and the whole time she would have to suffer being linked to Tommy King, Nathan’s brother and best man, wishing she was the bride and he was the groom.

Tommy…who still treated her like a kid sister to be petted and teased and taken for granted as a background part of his life.

Tommy…who’d probably be eyeing off every attractive woman at the wedding. But not her. Never her. And she’d end up saying something mean and bitchy to him out of sheer frustration, when what she truly wanted…

A knock on her door and Elizabeth King’s call, “Are you dressed, Sam? May I come in?” forced a swift change of expression from gloom to the expected pleasurable excitement.

“Yes. I’m ready,” she replied, preparing herself for the all too discerning scrutiny of Tommy’s mother.

Elizabeth stepped into the room that had been allotted to Sam years ago when she’d first come to work on the great cattle station of King’s Eden. Those days were long gone, but the sense of being at home here with Elizabeth filling the role of her stand-in mother still lingered. Comfortable familiarity and affection poured into both their smiles as they viewed each other in their wedding finery.

“You look wonderful, Elizabeth.” Sam spoke first, admiring the graceful silvery grey tunic and long skirt the older woman wore with distinction. The outfit was made of a soft, fine knit and trimmed with satin ribbon, and it was set off with the beautiful pearls she always wore. Even in her sixties Elizabeth King was still a very handsome woman, tall, white-haired, with the brilliant dark brown eyes Tommy had inherited.

“So do you, Sam,” came the warm reply. “More beautiful than I’ve ever seen you.”

The compliment stirred a self-deprecating laugh. “The miracle of cosmetics. I hardly recognise myself. No freckles on show, my hair done up…” She turned to her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. “It’s like looking at a stranger.”

“That’s because you’ve never bothered making the most of yourself,” Elizabeth commented dryly, walking over to stand behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror. “Sometimes it does a woman’s heart good to see herself at her best.”

Would Tommy see her as sexy and beautiful today? Sam wryly wondered. The lilac satin strapless gown certainly emphasised every curve of her figure. Not that she was lushly curved like Miranda. All the same, she was generally satisfied with the shape of her body and it was in proportion to her average height. The slim-line gown gave her an elegance she’d never attached to herself before, but sexy?

“Well, at least I can’t be seen as a tomboy in this dress,” she commented, trying to ease the tight, hopeless feeling in her chest.

“You shouldn’t feel like one, either. Why not let yourself enjoy being a woman today? Don’t fight it. Just let this image you see in the mirror take over and be you,” Elizabeth quietly advised.

“But it’s not really me. All this clever make-up…”

“Brings out the lovely blue of your eyes and highlights the fine bone structure of your face.”

“I’ve never worn my hair like this.”

Sam tentatively touched the copper curls that had been raked back and pinned into a crown around the top of her head. Usually they dangled in a mop around her face, hiding her ears and her feelings, when she needed to hide them. This style left her without any protection.

And she wasn’t at all sure of the wisdom of wearing the artificial lilac rose, pushed into one side of the high nest of curls which Sam suspected would spring out and escape the pins sooner or later. However, this look was what Miranda wanted and she was the bride, so Sam had kept her mouth firmly shut while the hairdresser had done what Miranda had directed.

“Can’t you see how elegant it is?” Elizabeth appealed. “Just for once your face isn’t dwarfed by a riot of curls around it, and having your hair up bares the line of your neck and shoulders, showing off your milky skin.”

It made Sam feel very bare, especially with the strapless dress, and she simply wasn’t used to elegant, which made her very nervous about having to carry it off. What if the rose fell out and her curls tumbled down? She could just see Tommy laughing at her as the elegant sham came apart.

“It’s just not me,” she repeated with an apprehensive sigh, thinking she was bound to forget the eye make-up and smudge it. Probably end up looking like a clown. Especially if she wept at the wedding ceremony and the mascara ran.

“It is you.” Elizabeth grasped her arms and looked, for a moment, as though she wanted to shake her, but she took a deep breath and contented herself by forcing Sam to hold still and keep looking in the mirror. “It’s the you that might have been if you hadn’t been brought up on an Outback cattle station, always competing with the men, trying to prove you were as good, if not better, at everything they did, from breaking in horses to mustering by helicopter.”

A flush of denial scorched Sam’s cheeks. “I wasn’t trying to be a man, Elizabeth. I just wanted respect from them.”

“Well, maybe you were so busy winning respect, you forgot men want that, too.” She sighed and her mouth curled into an ironic smile. “You were always hell-bent on proving you could beat them at their own game, even to breaking in that maverick stallion Tommy wanted to break in for himself.”

Sam frowned at the criticism which had never been levelled at her before. Her recollection of that same incident was different. She’d been eighteen at the time and desperate to win Tommy’s admiration and turn their relationship into something warmer, more personal.

“He was going the wrong way about it,” she said in mitigation of her actions, too sensitive about her unrequited feelings to lay out her motives. “That horse didn’t want to be dominated.”

“So you showed him,” came the pointed reply.

Her flush deepened painfully as she remembered Tommy’s furious reaction to her triumphant pleasure in presenting the gentled horse. “I wasn’t trying to beat him. I meant it as a gift,” she muttered defensively. “I thought he’d be pleased.”

Elizabeth shook her head over the lack of understanding, and with sympathy in her eyes, explained, “Tommy has been competing against Nathan all his life. It’s why he broke away from Nathan’s authority over the cattle station and built up his air charter business. To become his own man. Which he demanded Nathan acknowledge and respect when he asked for a portion of King’s Eden to be turned into a wilderness resort for tourists.”

She paused, then shot home the truth as she saw it. “Tommy doesn’t want a woman competing with him, Sam. He wants a woman who will partner him. A woman…”

Sam bit her lip and swallowed the fiery retort that had leapt to her tongue, blitzing Elizabeth’s view of what her second son wanted…. Tommy’s taste in women ran to nothing more than male ego-pumpers, not possible partners, and if he’d wanted a real partner in all his enterprises, a helpmate, a soul mate, there was none more capable and willing than she was and he was a fool for not seeing it.

The blistering thoughts left an awkward silence after Elizabeth had stopped saying whatever she had said. Sam didn’t know if some comment was expected of her. She had none to make anyway. None Elizabeth would want to hear.

With a sigh, Elizabeth released her hold and fos-sicked in the silver bag hanging from her wrist. “I’ve brought you Nathan’s gift for being Miranda’s bridesmaid.” She lifted out a purple velvet box and set it on the dressing-table.

Sam wrenched her mind out of its dark brooding and stared down at the box. No one had ever given her jewellery. A new horse, a new saddle, a motorbike, helicopter-flying lessons…all the birthday presents she’d ever requested had been aimed at what she wanted to do with her life, not at embellishing her femininity.

“I wasn’t expecting anything,” she half protested.

“It’s traditional for the groom to thank the bridesmaid this way,” Elizabeth explained.

“Well, never having been a bridesmaid…” She opened the box somewhat nervously, hoping Nathan hadn’t spent a lot of money on her, and gasped at the beautiful pearl pendant on a fine gold chain, accompanied by matching pearl earrings. “I can’t accept this!”

“Nonsense! It’s the perfect complement for your dress.” Elizabeth removed the delicate necklace and hung it around Sam’s throat, proceeding to fasten it there.

“My ears aren’t pierced.” She’d tried it once in an attempt to compete with the procession of Barbie doll women Tommy favoured, but it had been a miserable failure, the holes getting badly infected, despite her taking every care.

“They’re clip-ons,” Elizabeth informed her. “Made especially for you. Put them on, Sam. I want to see the complete effect.”

Realising argument would be futile since Elizabeth had probably chosen the set herself, Sam fumbled them onto her almost nonexistent earlobes and tried to shut her mind to what such lustrous pearls would cost a normal buyer. To the King family it wouldn’t be so much, with their ownership of the pearl farm in Broome, not to mention mining interests in gold and diamonds, as well as their legendary stake in the cattle industry and Tommy’s enterprises.

Their wealth had never bothered her, never really touched her…until now. She’d always earned her keep at King’s Eden, working on the cattle station and in more recent years, at Tommy’s resort. Still, if this was Nathan’s idea of a gift for her, a memento of his wedding and the part she played in it, there really was no other option but to accept it.

“Perfect!” Elizabeth declared, her dark eyes twinkling intense satisfaction as Sam lowered her hands, revealing this fabulous last polish to her appearance. “You have such dainty ears. You should show them off more.”

“Pixie ears,” Sam replied with a grimace, remembering the teasing she’d suffered at school. “These earrings will probably kill me by the end of the day.”

“Ah, but they set off your face and neck beautifully. Leave them on. You look absolutely perfect now. Luminous and alluring.”

She would never have attached such words to herself, yet the pearls did make a difference, adding a glow that seemed to make the lilac satin and even her copper hair more lustrous.

“The beautician should be finished with Miranda in another ten minutes,” Elizabeth said, checking her watch. “Better go along to her room then. She’ll need help with her dress and veil. I’m just going to check on Nathan and Tommy. Make sure they’re on schedule.”

She was at the door before Sam found wits enough to say, “Thank you for…for everything, Elizabeth.”

Her eyes locked onto Sam’s once more. “Promise me…” She hesitated, grimaced. “I guess it’s too much to ask.”

“Please…ask.”

A heavy sigh. Her eyes softened, pleading for understanding. “Don’t take this unkindly. I mean it for the best, believe me. I don’t think anyone enjoys the bickering that goes on between you and Tommy. He baits, you bite. You bait, he bites. Do you think you could let all that ride today? Nathan’s wedding day? I know it’s a habit you’ve got into but it’s childish and I wish…”

She shook her head, pained at having to make the apologetic request. Then with an earnest look and an appealing smile, she added, “The elegant woman I see before me doesn’t have to compete with anyone. Carry that thought with you, Sam. Win respect…for being a woman.”

Childish…The accusation burned through Sam for several minutes after Elizabeth had left. The worst of it was having to acknowledge the tit-for-tat game had started in their teens, probably a childish bid on her part to gain and hold Tommy’s attention. But it had been fun in those days. It hadn’t developed bite until after the horse-breaking incident, his furious resentment of her action stirring resentment in her. And sickening disappointment.

Since then…ten years of bickering, with the pattern of behaviour between them so deeply set, Sam didn’t know if she could stop it. In some perverse way, it had felt like a bond of intimacy between them, a running commentary on each other’s lives that none of his simpering women could share because it went so far back and held so much familiarity…

But she didn’t want to be his kid sister.

With despairing anguish clutching her heart, Sam turned to look again at the woman in the mirror. Not one trace of a childish spitfire in that woman. Elegant, luminous, alluring…could she be her today? Would Tommy treat her differently, see in her a woman he wanted in his bed, making love instead of making war?

Sam took a deep breath and made a fierce resolution.

Today, no matter how hard it might be to keep it up, she would be that woman, inside and out. She would hold that image in her mind and live up to it. Not because Elizabeth had asked her to. Not because it was Nathan’s wedding. Because suddenly, she saw it as her only hope to change the ground between her and Tommy, and if it didn’t work…perhaps nothing ever would.

CHAPTER TWO

HAD SHE been too hard?

Elizabeth fretted over the question as she headed towards Nathan’s quarters. She had never considered Sam fragile, more a fighter, a survivor against any odds, always bouncing back with a stubborn determination to win out in the end. But she was fighting the wrong fight with Tommy. And sometimes, Elizabeth firmly told herself, one had to be cruel to be kind.

All the same, it troubled her that Sam had looked so…vulnerable. Somehow it evoked the sense of its being make or break time for these two—the son who could always make her laugh and lift her spirits, and the child-girl-woman who’d become a thorn in his side instead of the smile in his heart. What should have turned out right for both of them had taken a wrong twist and Elizabeth wasn’t sure if her interference could correct it.

After years of observing them at loggerheads, she had come to the conclusion that pride wouldn’t allow them to change their attitudes. Maybe it was too late and the mutual sniping had killed what might have been. Laid it to waste. She’d tried to tell them, lecturing them on lost opportunities, time going past that could never be regained, but to no avail. If she couldn’t jolt them into a new awareness of each other at this wedding…well, at least she would have tried.

Ultimately, they were responsible for their own happiness. The problem was—Elizabeth no longer trusted them to make it happen themselves. Not that she could make it happen, either. All she could do was push.

Nathan wasn’t in his room.

Tommy’s was vacant, as well.

She found all three of her sons sitting at the bar in the billiard room, Jared, her youngest, pouring champagne into glasses. In their formal black tie wedding attire, each one of them was strikingly handsome, though quite individual in their looks; Nathan so big and tall and strong and impressively male, with the bluest of blue eyes and straight black hair, almost the image of his father; Tommy, with his endearing, untameable tight black curls, and wickedly charming brown eyes, always the flash of a mischievous devil about him; and Jared, having a less obvious strength, a quieter charm, his eyes darkly serious and always receptive, just a wave in his black hair, subtly providing a balance between the other two.

For several moments Elizabeth stood still, enjoying her pride in them. Lachlan would be proud of them, too, she thought, wishing her husband was still alive and at her side today, celebrating the wedding of his firstborn. His boys were all men now, men in their own right and pursuing their chosen paths, and it did Elizabeth’s heart good to see them so happily at ease with each other, enjoying a togetherness they rarely had time to share.

“I thought you would have all had more than enough to drink at last night’s buck’s party,” she remarked, finally drawing their attention.

“Just a last toast to the end of my bachelorhood,” Nathan excused with a grin.

“Settling his nerves,” Jared teased.

“I, for one, definitely need fortification,” Tommy declared. “Any man who partners Sam has to be fighting fit, and since I’ve been elected…”

“You could give it a break, Tommy,” Nathan suggested. “Treat Sam like a lady instead of a sparring partner. Then she’d have nothing to hit off.”

Elizabeth flashed her eldest son a grateful look, pleased to have a ready ally.

“Sam, a lady?” Tommy’s mouth curled into a mocking smile. “First, she wouldn’t know how to respond. Second, she’d accuse me of sending her up. Or she’d suspect me of some nefarious motive and see everything I did and said as a trap which I’d somehow spring on her when she’d most hate it.”

He swept out an arm, gesturing to Elizabeth, his eyes beaming warm admiration. “Now, there you see a real lady. And may I say you look wonderful, Mum. Doing Nathan proud today.”

“Thank you, Tommy. And I happen to think Samantha will do you proud…if you let her.”

“Samantha?” His eyebrows shot up. “Since when has Sam become Samantha?”

“You’ll see,” Elizabeth replied knowingly, piquing curiosity.

“A glass of champagne for you, Mum?” Jared asked.

“No, thank you. I just came to check that you’re all ready and nothing’s amiss.”

“Do we pass inspection?” Nathan asked with an amused, confident smile.

For a moment, he reminded her so strongly of Lachlan on their wedding day, she choked up, nodding her approval to cover the emotional block.

“What am I going to see?” Tommy drawled, his voice laced with scepticism. “Has Miranda waved some magic wand over Sam?”

“Could I have a private word with you, Tommy?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’ve got the ring.” He patted his trouser pocket. “I know all the duties of a best man. You can trust me to carry them out. And despite whatever barbs Sam chooses to sling at me, my speech thanking the bridesmaid will be all you’d want it to be. Does that cover it?”

“Not quite. Please…just a few minutes of your time,” Elizabeth insisted, gesturing to the adjoining lounge room.

With a much put-upon roll of his eyes, he heaved himself off the bar stool, then wickedly broke into a song and dance. “‘Oh, we’re going to the cha-a-apel, going to get ma-a-arried…”’ And to his brothers’ huge merriment, swept Elizabeth into a dance hold and whirled her into the adjoining room with all the panache of the playboy image he’d cultivated.

And what did that cover? Elizabeth had often wondered. She didn’t believe he had a lust for many women. To her mind, it was more a restless search for someone to answer needs that Sam wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. Or a pride thing, proving other women found him readily desirable. But it wasn’t giving him what he truly wanted. Elizabeth was certain of that.

“So…” he said, bringing her to a halt beyond ready earshot of the others. “…what’s on your mind?”

She caught her breath, wishing she didn’t have to dampen the devilish twinkle in his eyes. But she loved Tommy too much to let him hide his deep-down needs behind a wall of frivolous fun.

“It’s Nathan’s wedding day,” she started.

He made a mock frown. “I truly am aware of that fact.”

“Yes…well, I’d like it to be a very happy occasion. No bickering or snide little cracks.”

He raised his eyebrows in a show of innocence. “I am the very soul of pleasure on tap.”

“Then show that soul to Samantha for once, Tommy. You heard Nathan. He won’t ask it directly of you but I shall. Give the fighting a break. Be kind, generous…”

His face closed up.

“Tommy, I am just asking you to treat her as you would any other woman. Don’t mess this up.”

“Mess what up?” he demanded coldly.

“This day. You’re older than she is. And God knows you’ve had enough experience of women to handle the situation with finesse. She’s nervous. She’s afraid…”

“Afraid?” His eyes flashed derision. “Sam’s never been afraid of anything.”

“You think I’m a fool, Tommy? You think I’m just talking to hear myself speak?”

He glanced away, breath hissing out between his teeth.

“I’m telling you she doesn’t have her usual armour today,” Elizabeth drove on. “I’m telling you she’s vulnerable. And if you hurt her, Tommy…it would be very, very wrong.”

“I have no intention of hurting Sam,” he grated.

She reached out and squeezed his arm. “I hope you take very great care not to. For your sake. And hers,” she said quietly.

His gaze swung back, eyes blazing a fierce challenge. “You think it’s all my fault?”

The banked passion behind those words told Elizabeth more than Tommy had ever told her…the long-burning frustration of his relationship with Samantha Connelly. But there was nothing to be gained by placing blame anywhere. Raking over the past wouldn’t help. She had to appeal to the man he was now, the man who still wanted what could be…if the ground was shifted.

“No,” she answered, her eyes holding his with love and understanding. “I simply trust you’re big enough…and I know you are, Tommy…to rise above it today. To give of yourself without asking or expecting a return or a reward. Just to give…because giving is what today is about.”

His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Okay. You have a deal. For what it’s worth.” His eyes gently mocked as he added, “But you must know Sam’s bound to make tatters of any gift from me.”

“Then the fault will indeed be all hers. Thank you, Tommy.”

“Oh, I’ll be having the pleasure of being a martyred saint,” he rolled out in an Irish lilt, a resurgence of devilment in his eyes.

She smiled. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

His face softened. “You don’t have to. You’ve always been on my side when I’ve needed you. And to simply say thank you is totally inadequate. But thanks all the same, Mum.”

Elizabeth had never had any hesitation in throwing family money behind Tommy’s enterprises, the small planes and helicopter charter business which he’d called KingAir, the wilderness resort that bore the same name as the cattle station, King’s Eden, since it had once been a part of it.

He’d had a great need to prove himself, away from Nathan’s big shadow, Nathan who was born to be the cattle King and wear his father’s shoes. Tommy had to be his own man, and he was, very much his own man now, solidly successful in his business life.

But his personal life…he envied the love Nathan had found with Miranda. Elizabeth had seen it in his eyes on the night of their engagement party and knew he craved the same kind of love…to be accepted and respected and loved for the person he was inside.

“Let’s have a happy day, Tommy,” she said, knowing he would respond to her appeal for peace with Samantha.

“Sure, we will. The happiest of days. Especially for Nathan.”

For you, too, Elizabeth willed. “I must go back to Miranda. Everything else is in order?”

“Running like clockwork. Don’t worry. We’re onto the countdown now and everything will go brilliantly.”

“I hope so.”

He tapped her cheek in tender affection. “It’s all right. You have my promise. I’ll keep smiling in the face of the tiger.”

“Thank you, Tommy.”

It was with a lighter heart that Elizabeth returned to the bride. She’d done what she could to set up a harmonious situation. What might come out of it was up to Tommy and Samantha now.

The bridesmaid and the best man.

A wedding.

Surely they would feel what was missing from their lives and make an effort to leap over the barriers between them and grasp this chance. Pride simply wasn’t worth the loss of love.

CHAPTER THREE

AT PRECISELY 3:45, as scheduled, Tommy and Nathan stepped off the homestead verandah, leaving Jared behind to escort Miranda down the aisle in place of the unknown father who’d played no part in her life. She had no family, but she was not to walk alone. Never again alone, Nathan had sworn.

They walked down the path to where a white pergola had been erected, framing the front entrance opening. On either side of it the old bougainvillea hedge was a mass of multicoloured bloom on this fine Saturday afternoon. Shade cloth had been spread over the top of the pergola to hold off the hot sun while Miranda and Sam waited there to make their entrance. Tommy and Nathan slid out past the white lattice gates which would hide the bridal procession from view until The Moment.

A long strip of red carpet had been laid across the road, bisecting the large circular lawn in front of the homestead and leading straight to the white gazebo which had been set up at the other end of it. The whole area was shaded by magnificent old trees, the wide spread of their branches interlacing, providing the best protection for the three hundred guests, most of whom had flown in from all over Australia.

Many were already seated on the white chairs which had been laid out in a church pattern, the bulk of them facing the gazebo, but with two sections parallel to it—special sections reserved for the resort and station staff with their families on one side, and on the other, the Aboriginal tribe which had been tied to King’s Eden from its beginning over a hundred years ago.

This was undoubtedly the biggest Outback wedding ever held in the Kimberly, Tommy thought, smiling to himself at the idea of another King legend in the making. There were many of them from the old days, but this…this was something else and he was proud to have had a big hand in it with KingAir flying in many of the guests and his resort providing the accommodation. Nathan couldn’t have managed such a gathering on his own.

As they strode down the red carpet aisle together, a buzz of anticipation ran through the crowd. Those who hadn’t taken their seats moved to settle down for the long awaited ceremony. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy noticed Janice Findlay lingering on her feet, watching him, probably wanting his attention to turn her way.

It was over between them, as far as he was concerned, so he gave her no encouragement. He hoped she wasn’t going to try reviving their affair today. The problem with Janice was she drank too much, fun when she was only tiddly but no fun at all when she bombed herself out.

If she made some kind of scene in front of Sam, the fat would be in the fire. Sam would undoubtedly let fly with caustic comments and he’d have to weather them, in keeping with his promise to his mother. He willed Janice to target some other guy at the wedding. His patience and good humour were going to be tested enough, keeping Sam sweet, though he doubted that was even remotely possible. There was no honey in her nature to start with.

Vulnerable? Well, maybe Miranda had put her in high heels and she was scared of wobbling up the aisle or tripping over herself. Sam would certainly hate looking less than competent. She probably felt like a fish out of water in female finery, having prided herself on mastering a man’s world from the day she was born a girl instead of a boy.

It was to be hoped she didn’t fall flat on her face. He wouldn’t wish that humiliation on her, not in front of this crowd and right at the beginning of the wedding, though she was damned good at dishing out humiliation herself. Not only was she a first-class expert at one-upmanship, she nitpicked everything he did, as though she always knew better. The exasperating part was that too often she proved she was right.

Which annoyed the hell out of him.

One of these days he was going to get the better of Sam Connelly. But, given his promise to his mother, today was not the day. Unless…

A smile twitched at his lips. What if he gave her the full playboy charm treatment on this auspicious occasion…bridesmaid and best man? Shower her with compliments. Keep pressing to do whatever would make her feel happy. Focus on her needs and desires. In short—bewilder, bewitch and bedazzle. He broke into a chuckle at the thought of clipping Sam’s claws, one by one.

“What’s amusing you?” Nathan asked.

“You may not be the only winner today, big brother,” he answered with a grin.

Nathan looked about to pursue the point, but the pastor hailed him, breaking away from a group of guests he’d been chatting to and joining them as they reached the gazebo. With any private conversation diverted, Tommy contented himself envisaging various scenarios between him and Sam, where she would be left floundering under a barrage of unquenchable charm.

The sight of his mother emerging onto the red carpet aisle jolted his mind back onto the job of getting this wedding under way. He signalled to Albert and the other tribal elder, Ernie, to take their seats on either side of the gazebo. Out they came from amongst their families, carrying their didgeridoos—the long wooden instruments highly polished for the occasion—and with great dignity, settled themselves ready to play.

His mother reached the top of the aisle and held out her arms in a gathering gesture. With great excitement, the children streamed out from their shaded seats, all the girls under twelve years old from the station families, and two boys from the Aboriginal community. They were all puffed up with self-importance as they lined up in front of the gazebo, the boys in front, their sleek brown bodies daubed in ceremonial patterns, and both of them carrying a tribal spear, six girls in pairs behind them, looking very cute in frilly lilac dresses, white socks and shoes, little white daisies circling their hair, and carrying pretty white baskets filled with rose petals.

His mother had a few quiet words with them. There was much earnest nodding. Then off they went down the aisle, the girls positioning themselves at their allotted intervals, the boys marching straight for the white lattice gates which they were to open at the first long note from the didgeridoos. As soon as the boys were in place, his mother took her seat.

“Ready?” Tommy couldn’t resist shooting at Nathan.

“Ready,” he replied in a heartfelt tone.

Tommy gave the nod to Albert and Ernie, and unaccountably felt a soaring anticipation himself as the ancient Aboriginal instruments started their deep, rhythmic thrum, calling up the good spirits from the Dreamtime to bless this union with longevity and fertility. It was a sound that seemed to reverberate through the heart, linking everyone to an earthbeat as old as time itself.

In unison, the boys opened the gates wide…and out stepped…Sam?

Disbelief seized Tommy’s mind.

Sam…looking like some stunning model from a fashion magazine?

A shower of rose petals dotted his vision for a moment but then she walked past them without the slightest wobble in her step. She was carrying herself straight and tall, just as his mother did. Tall? Her hair was up! The mop of bouncy red ringlets wasn’t a mop anymore. It was sleeked back from her face and tamed into a sophisticated arrangement on top of her head, gleaming like burnished copper, and set off with a lilac rose nestled artistically to one side.

A brilliant touch, that rose. Made Sam look elegant and seductively feminine. And the dress she was wearing was downright sexy! Looked as though she had been poured into it, the shiny fabric emphasising a very female figure, surprisingly well-rounded breasts holding up the strapless bodice—tantalising hint of cleavage there—and a waist small enough to give a man a snug handhold, a waist that highlighted perfectly curved hips that were swaying from side to side with almost mesmerising grace.

Over her stomach she held a dainty bouquet of white daisies and green leaves, and beneath that the movement of her legs, pushing rhythmically at the shiny, slippery, slim-line skirt was incredibly sensual. Tommy started to feel the pricking of desire and a strong urge to act on it. Another shower of rose petals reminded him of where he was and the dignity required of a best man. He wrenched his gaze up from the dangerously exciting skirt.

Lovely shoulders, neck…and she was wearing pearls! A pendant gleaming on her skin below her throat and droplet earrings dangling provocatively on either side of her face. And where had her freckles gone? One thing was certain. She didn’t look like anyone’s kid sister!

There was nothing forbidding about that face. It was pure come-hither, her mouth painted with soft lipstick, cheekbones shaded to an exotic slant, eyebrows peaking and winging, drawing his attention to the milky smoothness of a forehead he’d never seen before, and her eyes…somehow bigger and more luminous.

Eyes fastened on him…delivering a sharp kick to his heart. The sultry look she was giving him simmered with sexual promises. His skin suddenly tingled from the top of his scalp to his toes. Countless times he had told himself he didn’t want Sam Connelly. A man would have to be a masochist to want her. But this wasn’t the Sam he knew. This was…

Samantha!

O-o-o-oh yes! His mother had that much right.

And if ever there was a walking invitation to discover another side of Sam, this was it, and any thought of being lumbered with having to do right by her or even amusing himself with games, went right out of Tommy King’s mind.

CHAPTER FOUR

SAM WAS NOT sick with envy during the wedding ceremony. She was sick with excitement. The way Tommy had looked at her as she’d walked up the aisle kept buzzing through her mind and churning her insides to such a pitch she wasn’t even aware that the bride and groom were up to exchanging vows over the wedding ring until Miranda turned to give Sam her bouquet to hold.

In no time at all the pastor was declaring Nathan and Miranda “Husband and Wife,” and they were moving towards the table at the back of the gazebo to register the marriage in the official book and sign the certificate.

Sam’s heart was thumping hard as she and Tommy followed. She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him, afraid she had read too much into his expression, and now that the surprise of her appearance was over, there might only be the usual teasing glint in his eyes.

“Quite a revelation,” he murmured.

“What?” The word tripped out before she could catch it back. Desperate to know if he was baiting her, as usual, she risked a quick glance at his face.

“You in all your glory,” he answered, his eyes warmly caressing, not even a twinkle of mischief.

“Miranda’s choice,” she mumbled, thrown into hot confusion by his open admiration and hopelessly inept at accepting such a personal compliment.

“You grace it with high distinction,” came the smooth rejoinder, his voice sounding sincere.

“Thank you,” she managed this time, grateful for a second chance to give a gracious response.

He lightly grasped her elbow to steer her around behind the now seated bride. She had never felt so conscious of a touch. Was he just being gentlemanly on this formal occasion or was he wanting physical contact with her?

“You look very dashing yourself in formal wear,” she said, giving in to the urge to show she could be generous, too.

“Mmmh…may I take that as a vote of approval?”

As he brought them to a halt, ready to move in as witnesses when required, she caught his quirky smile out of the corner of her eye and instantly hissed, “I’m sure you’ll have every unattached woman here slathering over you in no time flat.”

Before she could regret the tart remark, he leaned over and whispered, “You have my permission to beat them off.”

She flinched at the tingle of his breath on her bared ear. “Why should I do that?” snapped straight off her wayward tongue, pride blowing resolution away.

“Because I’m your partner for the day.”

Provoked by this dutiful stance she flashed him an arch look. “I might fancy someone else.”

His eyes simmered darkly at her. “I’ll beat off anyone who comes sniffing around you.”

This was a far more satisfying image than her beating women off him. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “I don’t want you to feel tied to me, just because you’re the best man and I’m the bridesmaid.”

“Ah, but I want to be tied to you today, Samantha.”

He accompanied his soft, seductive drawl of her full name with a look that challenged everything female in her, and that same everything started quivering with delight. She hadn’t fooled herself. He was seeing her as a desirable woman. And if she didn’t stop these stupidly self-defeating reactions, she’d spoil this new view of her. Tommy was offering what she wanted, even if it was only for today, and if she didn’t take it and run with it she’d be an absolute fool.

She poured all her wild hopes into a smile, desperately needing to negate her prickliness. “Then I’ll be pleased to have your company, Tommy.”

“I shall hold you to that,” he murmured, a triumphant twinkle lighting his eyes.

Sam’s heart leapt joyously at this evidence of serious intention. So lost was she in the magical possibility of secret dreams teetering on the edge of reality, she almost jumped when Nathan called to her.

“Your turn to sign,” he said, rising from the table and waving her forward. He smiled, his blue eyes brilliant with inner happiness. “You make a beautiful bridesmaid, Sam.”

“Doesn’t she?” Miranda chimed in, turning her radiance on both Sam and Tommy.

“Ravishing!” Tommy roundly declared, nudging her forward.

“Thank you,” she rushed out breathlessly, Tommy’s “Ravishing!” ringing in her ears and dancing through her mind. He hovered beside her as she sat and wrote her signature where the pastor pointed and the pen wobbled on the page, her hand seemingly disconnected to the task required, trembling with the excitement coursing through her.

When she’d finished, Tommy took the pen from her, not bothering to sit down, his arm encircling her bare shoulders as he leaned over the table and scrawled his signature with swift and masterful confidence. She stared at his handsome profile, almost disbelieving the feather-light caress of his fingers on her upper arm. He’d never touched her like this, as though wanting to feel her skin. Despite the heat of the afternoon, the tingling caress was causing her to break out in goose bumps.

“There! All witnessed!” he said, reminding her of where they were and why.

She jumped up, dislodging his hold, too super-conscious to let it continue. As it was, her heart was pounding erratically as she swung around to the bride and groom. There was Nathan, a strong mountain of a man, a sound and steady friend whose kindness to her at times could only have meant he knew how she felt about his brother.

Was it all right now? she wanted to ask him. Could she trust what was happening? Was this playboy stuff from Tommy or was he intent on starting a different relationship with her? No more kid sister.

Whether Nathan read the appeal right, the tormenting uncertainty in her eyes, Sam didn’t know, but he gave her a reassuring smile and a nod of approval which momentarily soothed the turbulence inside her. Impulsively, she stepped over and poured her emotion into a congratulatory hug which he warmly returned.

“I hope you two have the happiest of lives together,” she said with genuine fondness for the newly wedded couple, then turning to the woman who’d won his heart. “And, Miranda, you must truly be the most beautiful bride in the whole world.”

“She is to me,” Nathan said with such love, tears pricked Sam’s eyes.

Would Tommy ever say that of her?

The photographer summoned them to stand in a group in front of the gazebo, facing the wedding guests. Remembering her bridesmaid duties, Sam checked that Miranda’s veil was falling right from the single white rose fastened in the gleaming blonde chignon, and that the beaded hem of her fabulous wedding gown was displayed properly along the folds of the graceful train.

“Enough! That’s perfect,” Tommy murmured, scooping her with him to stand in line for the photographs.

His arm remained around her waist, coupling them very much together, and even when the photographer was satisfied with the shots he’d taken, and the pastor announced that guests could now come forward to congratulate the bride and groom, Tommy did not release his hold, drawing her aside with him, his hand applying a light pressure around the curve of her hip.

“They look great together, don’t they?” he said warmly, watching his mother and Jared bestowing a kiss on Miranda and pressing Nathan’s hand.

“Do you mind losing her to Nathan?” The question slipped out, voicing the long insecurity which had been fed by Tommy’s interest in other women.

He frowned. “Why would you think that? I never had Miranda to lose.”

Somehow Sam couldn’t let it go. “You were attracted to her when she first came to manage the resort,” she stated flatly.

Beautiful, elegant Miranda, with her swishing blonde hair, lushly curved body, and fascinating green eyes hiding the mystery of her private life, keeping her distance while Tommy chased…Sam had been in knots, expecting Miranda to succumb, but she never did.

He slid her a look that challenged her judgment. “Was I?”

The taunting little question spurred her to remind him, “You kept asking her out with you.”

His eyes seemed to mock her knowledge of those invitations even as he sardonically replied, “Curiosity. She was in charge of my resort. I wanted to know what made her tick…a woman like that, keeping herself to herself. You were curious, too, remember? It was you who tackled her head-on about the family she never spoke about.”

She flushed at the memory. “That was awful. I was so grateful to Nathan for smoothing it over with tales of your family.”

“At the time, I backed you up, pressing the question. Simple curiosity, Samantha. I’m not attracted to cool blondes.” His mouth curved into a slow, sensual smile. “I’m much more drawn to a fiery combination.”

Sam’s heart flipped. The flush in her cheeks deepened. She just wasn’t used to Tommy turning this kind of attention on her, and as much as she had craved it, she found herself in wretched confusion as to whether it was real or not. Somehow it felt wrong that a superficial change in her appearance should spark such a difference in his behaviour towards her.

Before she could sort out her own ambivalence, her family came streaming towards her, having been close behind Elizabeth and Jared in offering their congratulations to the bride and groom. The friendship between the Kings and the Connellys went back a long way—three generations—both families running cattle stations in the Kimberly, and Sam had been the only girl born to either family in the current generation.

Three sons to Elizabeth and Lachlan.

A daughter and two sons to Robert and Theresa Connelly.

Sam reluctantly acknowledged it was true, what Elizabeth had said earlier. All her growing-up years she had wanted to be a boy—or every bit as good as a boy in her father’s eyes. Until Tommy had started stirring other feelings in her, feelings that she hadn’t known how to handle then. Or now.

The distraction of her family was welcome, familiar faces, people who loved her. Her father looked very distinguished in a suit, his mane of thick white hair—all red gone out of it in recent years—curling away from his still ruggedly handsome face. Strange, she had been the only one to inherit his hair and blue eyes. Her younger brothers, Greg and Pete were built like their father, but had their mother’s dark colouring, and both of them looked very attractive, all brushed up for the wedding. Her mother, as always, was the essence of femininity, her dainty figure encased in a peach lace dress.

Robert Connelly’s voice boomed out from his big, barrel chest. “Well, look at you!” His hands grasped Sam’s arms, squaring her up for his beaming pride and admiration. “So much for your mother’s accusation I was making a man of you by letting you have your head about doing what you wanted.” He turned triumphantly to his wife. “My Sam can turn into a beautiful woman any time she likes.”

Her mother regarded her with more whimsical bemusement. “I couldn’t imagine you looking more lovely, Samantha,” she said quietly. “It was like a dream, watching you walk up the aisle.”

“I guess dreams can come true sometimes, Mum,” Sam wryly answered, still helplessly insecure about Tommy’s response to her.

They stayed chatting about the wedding for a while before spotting friends and moving away to catch up with them. Her brothers lingered to make teasing remarks to Tommy about keeping their suddenly glamorous sister under his wing. He blithely replied he was the best man to take care of her, and under his wing was precisely where she belonged, this claim being accompanied by a light hug, plunging her straight into more emotional and physical turmoil as the length of her body was drawn against his, her arm pressed to his chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh.

Her brothers laughed and wished Tommy the best of luck as they drifted off in search of some luck of their own. Sam was inwardly reeling from the electric awareness of being this close to him, feeling the strong masculinity of his physique, smelling the subtly enticing cologne he must have dabbed on his neck, sensing the strong current of energy that was so much a part of his vibrant personality.

“Do you know this rose in your hair is right in line with my mouth?” he softly mused. “I have the most extraordinary urge to pluck it out with my teeth and sweep you into a wild tango.”

“Don’t!”

Jolted into tilting her head to look up at him, she lost the train of protest, any further words dying in her throat. His face was perilously close to hers, the smooth clear-cut line of his jaw that invited stroking, the mouth perfectly shaped for kissing, a nose that seemed to embody a flare of passion, dark eyes dancing with wickedness and fringed with thick long lashes that were sinfully seductive, eyebrows slanting into a diabolical kick and the springy black curls that made him look so dangerously rakish.

“Such appealing eyes,” he murmured. “Why have I never seen them appealing to me before, Samantha?”

Her heart was in her mouth. She couldn’t answer.

“I would always have answered an appeal from you,” he went on. “As I will now. Your rose is safe…until you want to match me in wanting to let your hair down and…”

“Tommy!”

The sharp call of his name broke the intimate weave of his words around her heart. It was a woman’s voice, claiming his attention. Sam’s head jerked towards it and her stomach contracted as she saw who the woman was…Janice Findlay, Tommy’s most recent flame, and flaming she was in the look she gave Sam, a scorching dismissal that left her burning.

Before today, Sam would have instantly disengaged herself and left Tommy to his playmate. Never would she have contested any woman for his attention. But it seemed to her his words had given her the right to stay at his side and how he handled this situation would tell her more of where she stood with him than anything else.

“Ah, Janice,” he addressed her coolly, his arm hugging Sam more tightly, apparently determined on preventing her from moving away. “Enjoying the wedding?” he casually added, as though Janice Findlay was no more than another guest to him.

Her auburn hair came out of a bottle, Sam decided, noting the darker roots at the side parting. So much for Tommy’s taste for a fiery combination. Nevertheless, Janice was certainly aiming to heat up the opposite sex, the low V-neckline of her slinky black dress putting her prominent breasts on a provocative display.

“It’s quite unique, darling…the setting, the Outback touch with the didgeridoos…my parents thought it marvellous,” she drawled in a sexy voice. “Absolutely honoured to have been invited.”

“I’m glad they’re having a good time.” A strictly polite reply.

Undeterred, Janice offered him a smile that reeked of provocative promise. “I notice drink waiters are circulating with glasses of champers. Come and have some bubbly with me, darling. You must be dying of thirst.”

“Janice, I’m sure you can find someone else to share your fondness for champagne.” There was a steely note driven through the smooth suggestion, and it emphasised his stance as he added, “As you can see…I’m busy.”

Even Sam caught her breath at the direct and unmistakable rejection. As much as she wanted to be put first, it seemed a cruel set-down to a woman who probably had every right to expect him to keep fancying her.

Janice’s smile twisted into bitter irony. “Off with the old, on with the new, Tommy?”

“The old ended some time ago, as well you know,” he retorted quietly. “Making a scene won’t win you anything, Janice.”

“Won’t it?” Her chin tilted up belligerently, her eyes flashing fiery venom, shot straight at him, then targeting Sam. “Well, just don’t think you’re sitting pretty, Samantha Connelly,” she drawled derisively. “You won’t win anything, either.”

With a scornful toss of her hair, she turned her back on them and headed straight for one of the drink waiters. She snatched a glass of champagne off his tray, held his arm to stay his progress through the milling crowd, threw the drink down her throat, replaced the empty glass and grabbed another full one.

“At that rate she’ll be under a table before the reception dinner begins,” Tommy muttered in dark vexation.

“You were…rather cutting,” Sam commented, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the woman he’d cast aside. She knew all too well the frustration of wanting Tommy King, and not being able to reach into him.

“She was unforgiveably rude in her self-serving attempt to cut you out,” he stated tersely.

“Perhaps she felt she had just cause.”

Tommy swung her around to face him, anger blazing from his eyes. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”

Did she? Maybe she did, in some kind of perverse bid to make him less desirable so she wouldn’t want him so much. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she rushed out in guilty agitation. “I just don’t know where you’re coming from, Tommy, and faced with Janice like that…”

“My involvement with Janice ended the night she did a striptease at a party, then fell on her face, dead drunk,” he bit out in very clear distaste. “For me it was a complete turn-off. I saw her home safely but that was it. And I told her so. She has no excuse for slighting you and no cause to malign me.”

To Sam’s intense relief, his expression changed, the anger swallowed up as his eyes gathered a commanding intensity. He lifted a hand and laid its palm gently on her cheek. “Please…don’t let her spoil this.”

Sam could not tear her eyes away from his though the passionate wanting they were communicating made her head swim. She snatched at her belief that Tommy was fundamentally decent, which surely meant he wasn’t playing some deceitful game with her. He was speaking the truth. She just didn’t know what this was to him.

“Give me credit, Samantha,” he demanded, a harsh note creeping into his voice. “I will not be robbed of respect today.”

Respect…the word sliced through the whirling doubts with all the force of Elizabeth’s earlier reading of the problem she had created with Tommy, her failure to comprehend his need for respect or even what it meant to him.

Panicked at the thought of doing more wrong, she instinctively lifted her hand and covered his in a gesture of appeasement, as well as desperately seeking a sense of togetherness with him. “I believe you,” she blurted out, taking the leap of faith he asked of her.

The tension eased from his face. He smiled—a brilliant, dazzling smile—and Sam felt bathed in an exhilarating radiance. Her heart lightened. Her taut nerves relaxed into a melting sense of pleasure. Her mind was filled with the sunrise of a day she had yearned for. This was it…she and Tommy…with a clean slate between them.

CHAPTER FIVE

YES!

A fierce elation burst through Tommy. She’d given in to him. For once in her life she hadn’t suspected his word, flouted it, mocked it, or walked away from it. And placing her hand on top of his was more than acceptance. Much more. It was a voluntary move towards him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, revelling in the appeal to him in her eyes, the appeal of a woman who didn’t want to fight, a woman who was looking—hoping—for something else from him, feeling her way tentatively towards it.

“I may not have said it, but I do admire all you’ve achieved, Tommy,” she said earnestly. “The success you’ve made of the air charter business and the wilderness resort. They were great ideas and you’ve proved how timely they were with Outback tourism gathering more and more business.”

The admission was surprisingly sweet. He was beyond needing anyone’s approval or admiration for his pursuit of ventures he’d believed in. His own satisfaction in making them profitable was enough. But coming from his most nagging critic…

“I never meant to sound as though I always thought the worst of you,” she rushed on apologetically. “I do respect your…your judgment on these things.”

Now that was pure grovel and he didn’t believe it for a second. She’d used him as a whipping boy far too often, invariably casting him in the worst possible light. On the other hand, the attempt at conciliation was intriguing. What did Samantha want today?

Her earlier tart responses had denied any desire for him and she’d been tense and uncomfortable with every physical contact he’d made. But just before Janice’s intrusion, he’d definitely been on a promising roll. Keep it wild, he thought, out of the ordinary.

“Shall we start over?” he suggested whimsically.

She looked confused.

He moved his hand to capture hers and carry it to his lips. “I truly am charmed to meet you, Samantha Connelly,” he declared, brushing a kiss across the back of her fingers. “And I look forward to forging a closer acquaintance with you.”

She laughed—surprised, relieved, delighted and slightly embarrassed by his show of gallantry. “I think you are too forward, sir,” she replied in kind, revealing her eagerness to play this game of turning a new page, to be written on as they pleased.

He gave her a wounded look. “You would forbid me your hand?”

She responded with arch chiding. “If I give you an inch you may take a mile.”

He grinned. “And then some.”

She shook her head at him. “A dangerous man.”

He lowered her hand to cover his heart. “It’s true that only the strong dare tread my path with me.”

She cocked her head consideringly. “Perhaps a risk must be taken for a gain to be made.”

“In meeting a challenge, much can be won,” he assured her.

“If you will lead, I may follow.”

“I trust you are open to persuasion.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That depends on how convincing the persuasion is.”

“I shall put my mind to it.”

“Your heart, as well, sir, or I shall take my hand back.”

He laughed, exhilarated at her matching his flirtatious badinage. But then she always had matched him, before topping the matching with the last word. Not this time, he promised himself. The last word would be his this time.

With slow deliberation he raised her hand to his mouth again, then turned it over and pressed a long, sensuous kiss onto her palm. He saw her eyes widen, heard a gasp escape her lips, and knew the sexual current running through him was just as electric in her.

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