‘No, I brushed her down and dried her yesterday.’
‘You didn’t explain how she got into the swamp.’ Curt’s voice, anger running beneath each deliberate word like lava welling through rocks.
The hairs on the back of Peta’s neck stood on end in primitive reaction. ‘I don’t know what spooked her into the swamp, but she was well and truly stuck when I found her.’ She smiled wryly. ‘And when Curt rode up on his big black horse Laddie’s impersonation of a werewolf in hysterics didn’t help—the calf bolted even further into the mud.’
Laddie apparently considered the sound of his name to be an invitation and ran towards the calf-pen just as the little animal turned to survey its audience.
‘Get in behind!’ Peta commanded sternly, leaping up from the hay bale to grab his collar. Her foot slid over a stone and turned her ankle. Although she regained her balance instantly, Ian grabbed her arm.
When Peta said the first thing that came to her mind, it was in a thin voice she hardly recognised. ‘Thank you, Ian, but it was just a stone.’
He dropped his hand. ‘I thought you were going to end up on your nose!’
Peta prayed no one would recognise the artificial timbre of her laugh. ‘That would be twice in twenty-four hours. Curt had to drag me out of the swamp yesterday.’
Curt said, ‘Gillian, why don’t you go home with Ian? I have something to discuss with Peta. I’ll bring your car back, and I won’t be more than ten minutes or so.’
The words fell into a silence echoing with repressed emotions. His sister broke it by saying brightly, ‘Make sure it’s no more than ten minutes; you know Mrs Harkness gets very tense when we’re late for meals, and I know how easily you get sidetracked when business calls.’ Her smile at Peta lacked warmth as she linked her arm in her husband’s. ‘Come on, darling. Take me home.’
His gaze fixed on Curt, Ian said, ‘I’ll see you when you get back.’
Curt’s brows lifted, but he waited until they’d driven away before turning to Peta, still frozen with dismay. She swallowed and met his gaze, hard as flint. Defensively, she folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin.
In a level voice that didn’t conceal the iron in his words, he said, ‘If you carry on this thing with Ian you’ll regret it.’
He knew. How? Surely that quick grip of Ian’s hand hadn’t given away his secret? Peta knew she looked guilty and she knew it was unfair—she had done absolutely nothing to precipitate Ian’s infatuation.
Without waiting for an answer Curt went on, ‘Because cutting off the lease will be only the first step to taking everything you’ve got away from you.’
Starkly conscious of the ruthless determination in his tone, Peta blurted, ‘There is no thing with Ian.’
‘Don’t lie to me.’
‘I’m not lying,’ she said aggressively, heart thudding crazily beneath her crossed arms. ‘And I’m not scared of empty threats. There’s no way you can do that.’
‘I’ll make your life here impossible,’ he returned with cold precision. ‘To start off with, I’ll deny you access over Tanekaha land.’
She stared at him, her swift response drying on her lips. He couldn’t do that. Yet one glance from those flat, lethal eyes and Peta knew he would. ‘My father had an agreement—’
‘It isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. Any halfway decent lawyer would have it thrown out of court. And if you don’t believe me, I’ll pay for you to have an independent opinion,’ he said contemptuously. He waited for the implications of this to sink in before adding with a brutal lack of emotion, ‘Without access your land is valueless— worth only what I’d be prepared to pay for it. And if you run off with Ian that will be peanuts.’
He meant it. Suddenly scared, Peta said harshly, ‘I don’t plan to run off with him. I don’t want—’
‘I don’t care what you want. He wants you—that’s obvious. Are you sleeping with him?’
‘No!’
Her voice vibrated with outrage, but Curt knew how easy it was to assume that offended tone. One of his lovers had given a very convincing display when he’d told her that he refused to share her sexual favours. He’d had proof then too.
He shrugged. ‘Not that it matters. But if you believe that breaking up Ian’s marriage will get you a better life, you’re wrong. He won’t only lose his wife, he’ll be out of a job and I’ll make sure he never works as anything more than a farmhand for the rest of his life. You might be happy with that; trust me, Ian won’t be.’
Green fire mixed with gold flamed in her eyes. Heat radiated from her, enriching the golden lights in her hair and the smooth, warm silk of her skin. Curt resisted the hard pull of lust in his groin.
‘I don’t want to break up any marriage,’ she said fiercely, uncrossing her arms to place a hand firmly on each hip. ‘Ian means nothing to me.’
So she was just using the poor bastard. Anger gave Curt’s words formidable intensity. ‘But what do you mean to him?’
Her white teeth bit into her full lower lip. Curt’s blood surged through his veins; she managed to invest the most trivial of gestures with an innate sensuality that damned near splintered his self-control.
Face set, she expanded, ‘I don’t know, and I don’t care! He’s always been a kind of father figure—for heaven’s sake, he must be twenty years older than I am!’
‘Twelve. What’s that got to do with anything?’
Peta had never disliked anyone so much as she disliked him, a dislike bolstered by a cold, crawling fear. He had every intention of forcing her out of his sister’s life—she only had to look at his ruthless face to know that she didn’t have a chance of changing his mind.
Panic made her reckless. ‘I’m not in the habit of having affairs with men twelve years older than I am!’
One raised brow told her what he thought of that. ‘In that case, we might be able to save the situation.’
The calf shuffled about in the hay, the soft noise knotting her nerves.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, hating this surrender even though she wanted nothing more than to get out of this uncomfortable situation.
‘It’s quite simple.’
She held her breath as he finished, ‘All you have to do is make it obvious you don’t want anything he’s offering.’
She clenched her teeth, but however crude his words were, he’d only put into words the decision she’d already made. ‘I’ll tell him.’
Curt shook his head. ‘You’ll show him,’ he said succinctly.
Startled, she looked up into a face set in lines as ruthless as any pagan warrior. ‘How?’
‘You’ll transfer your affections to me,’ he told her silkily.
His words rang meaninglessly in Peta’s ears. ‘What?’
CHAPTER THREE
THE colour drained from Peta’s skin, leaving her cold and shocked. She couldn’t have heard him correctly.
One glance at Curt’s implacable face went a long way towards convincing her. He had just said, ‘You’ll transfer your affections to me.’
‘No,’ she blurted. ‘I… You don’t have to go that far. I’ll just tell him that—that—’