The Playboy King's Wife

“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.”