Australia: In Bed with a King

“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.