‘I see. I suppose I should thank you.’
He walked the length of the bed to her side and her breath caught. It was unnerving to have Kane McKinnon so undressed…and so close to her bed. What was he doing here? What had happened last night?
She shivered at the thought that this mega-masculine body might have lain next to her, that she might have…they might have…
Had she touched that satiny skin?
No. Surely not.
She realised he’d brought her a glass of water and two pain-killers.
‘I imagine you’ll need these.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, but she didn’t take them. There were too many important questions that had to be clarified. ‘You didn’t sleep here—with—with me, did you?’
His eyes were the silvery-blue of an early morning sky and now they glinted with suppressed amusement. ‘I didn’t have any choice. I told you this was the only cabin left.’
‘But why couldn’t you have gone home? Why did you stay here?’
‘I had to make sure you were okay.’
Was that true? Was she supposed to be grateful? What kind of man was Kane McKinnon? She had no idea whether he was trustworthy. The tanned skin on his face was cut by a pale scar that sliced through his right eyebrow and almost reached his eyelid and she couldn’t help wondering what had caused it.
‘What did we—? We didn’t—Did we—um—’ How on earth did she ask this? ‘We didn’t—make love or—or anything, did we?’
She saw a flash of white teeth as he grinned. ‘Make love? Hell, no.’
‘Thank heavens,’ she whispered and felt some of her tension let go.
‘I don’t think I’d call it love,’ he said in a slow drawl.
Charity braced herself for the worst. The tension returned one hundred fold.
‘What we had was more like straight out lust—’
‘No!’
‘Simple, uncomplicated sex,’ he said and the blue eyes gleamed.
A horrified moan escaped her. Wrenching the sheet over her, she cowered beneath it. But now, with her eyes closed, she saw a vision of all the devout women in her father’s parish staring at their rector’s reprobate, drunken daughter with scandalised, open-mouthed horror.
Kane’s voice reached her through her shame. ‘Don’t worry, sweet Charity. It was wild.’
‘Go away!’
‘You were fabulous—sensational.’
Her head shot above the sheet. ‘Stop it! You’re despicable.’ She hated him.
But she was also beginning to suspect that he was lying. Surely he was teasing her?
Emboldened by the thought, she lowered her gaze…and saw…
…that she was fully dressed.
Every bit of clothing was still in its proper place, except for her shoes. Thank heavens.
She spun sideways to check the other side of the room and winced because the movement made her head hurt. There was another bed beneath the window, a twin of hers, and its rumpled sheets indicated that Kane had slept there.
He’d definitely been teasing her…which made him even more despicable, because she was left feeling foolish for leaping to assumptions.
‘If that’s Australian humour, I don’t think much of it,’ she snapped.
‘Come on, take these,’ he said again, pressing the tablets into her hand.
She had little choice but to sit up and accept the tablets and glass of water and to swallow obediently, but she wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to see that mocking amusement in his eyes.
He said, ‘I’ve brought your bags up, so be a good girl and hop into the shower. Then you need a big recovery breakfast before you leave.’
‘But I don’t plan to leave.’ She couldn’t let this embarrassing situation throw her. No doubt Kane McKinnon was still trying to scare her away, but she had to remember her mission—why she was here. Tim was still out there in all that terrible outback. Still missing.
‘Of course you’re leaving,’ he said. ‘You should have left yesterday when I told you to.’
Running frantic fingers through her hair, she tried to tame its tousled disarray. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Mr McKinnon. I mean it. I have no plans to leave Mirrabrook. I’m here to find my brother and I’m not taking orders from anyone, especially from you.’ She remembered something she’d learned during her conversation with Marsha. ‘I understand you have a brother and a sister, so if you won’t help me I’ll talk to them. That’s what I plan to do next.’
‘Do you indeed?’
‘Yes, I do indeed. I assume Tim had dealings with them as well as you?’
He shrugged. ‘Not really and Annie’s away in the city at the moment, so she won’t be able to help you.’
She was determined not to be put off. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not leaving.’ Throwing off the sheet, she gripped the bedside table for support while she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood carefully. ‘I have a strong feeling that I’m going to get the answers I need right here in Mirrabrook. I’m not budging until I get to the bottom of all this.’
The phone rang, cheating her of the opportunity to hear Kane’s reaction to her brave little statement.
He snatched it up. ‘McKinnon speaking…Oh, hello, Reid…Yeah, I’m still in town…No, I didn’t have any luck, mate…There’s no one available. Yeah, of course, I really tried.’
Over his shoulder, he scowled at Charity and she hurried to her suitcase, grabbed the first items of clothing she found and disappeared into the bathroom.
As she closed the door behind her, she heard Kane snap into the phone, ‘What choice do we have? You and I will just have to manage on our own, won’t we? We’ll have to become New Age types and discover our feminine sides.’
In the privacy of the shower, Charity rested her aching forehead against the cool ceramic tiles and let warm water pour over her.
What was she going to do now? It was all very well to toss off some grand sounding words to Kane about her plans to stay in the Mirrabrook district to search for Tim, but who would help her and where was she going to stay?
She wondered how much a cabin like this one would cost her. She didn’t have much money and had been hoping to clear the problem up quickly.
When she emerged from the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a huge white towel, she was dressed rather inappropriately in the first clothes she’d grabbed—her best cream trousers and pale blue silk blouse. Kane had hidden his muscles beneath a cotton shirt and he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his expression morose.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.
‘Just a stubborn brother.’ He looked up at her and stared hard at the towel on her head.
She felt frozen by the sudden intense spark in his eyes.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I was wondering what colour your hair is when it’s wet.’
Surprised and flustered, she said, ‘I don’t know. It’s just red, I think.’
He stood and seemed to tower over her. ‘No, not red, Charity.