Brett frowned. ‘I have a hard time believing the heiress to a well-established family business could be as naive or destitute as you two are making her out to be.’
‘You jerk! What are you using for brains?’
It was unclear whether he or the pale-faced cyclist his sister had only narrowly avoided skittling was the intended recipient of her outburst, but before Brett had uncurled his fingers from the dashboard Meaghan had calmly picked up where she’d left off.
‘We’re talking about a feed store here, Brett, not a multinational conglomerate, for heaven’s sake. Besides, she couldn’t access any of her inheritance until she turned twenty-one. The sister sounds like the Wicked Witch of the West with PMS, but to really round off what is the most miserable existence I can imagine, just when poor Joanna thought she’d found true happiness, she discovered the lowlife lump of pond scum she was in love with was married!’
And that, Brett thought, explained precisely why the girl had been taken under the collective wings of his sister and mother.
Meaghan had been only nineteen when she’d got pregnant with Karessa, to a long-time boyfriend who had turned out to be someone else’s equally long-time husband. To say she’d been devastated would be a massive understatement. Emotionally she’d come close to having a nervous breakdown as she’d struggled to get past not just the humiliation of having been taken for a fool but her love for a man who’d demanded she have an abortion.
At the time, Brett had been damned lucky not to find himself charged with assault when, reacting to sibling instincts rather than brains, he’d rearranged the guy’s very pretty face. And it was probably indicative of his baser, less civilised qualities, but he’d never been able to seriously regret that the mongrel had been killed in an accident before Karessa was born.
‘Brett! Are you listening to me?’
Meaghan’s exasperated tone reefed him from his reverie. ‘Huh?’
‘I said...I want your word you won’t put the moves on Joanna.’
She was so intent that if Brett hadn’t been amused he might have been angry. ‘Sure. You want a signed statement to that effect, or will it suffice if I just swear an oath on the Bible?’
Karessa’s laughter from the back seat didn’t infect her mother. ‘Look, all I’m saying is she’s not up to being hit on by you. I know your love ’em and leave ‘em style, Brett, and, despite everything she’s been through, Joanna’s probably still naive enough to fall for it.’
Okay, so now he was starting to get angry. ‘I’d like to point out that as debaucherous as you believe me to be, until a couple of weeks ago I’d been in a monogamous relationship for over three years. And that even in the most decadent periods of my lust-infested life I have never found anything remotely appealing in gauche, heartbroken country waifs I
‘Furthermore,’ he added, over his niece’s hysterical giggles, ‘I currently have about as much interest in getting entangled with another female as I do in being castrated. So your precious receptionist has nothing to fear from me. Satisfied?’
Wearing a serene smile, and with no respect for the notorious left-hand bend she was taking, his sister reached across and patted his shoulder. ‘Thank you, darling. I knew 1 could count on you.’
CHAPTER TWO
JOANNA FORD had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen! was Brett’s first thought as his niece executed a rapid-fire introduction of him in the foyer of his mother’s house. His second was that at about five-seven she might be too short to be a model, but she was also as far removed from his image of a country waif as the climate in the South Pole was from that of the Equator! No wonder the guy Meaghan had collided with had been swayed from calling the cops; Joanna Ford had the looks and body to convince a guy breathing wasn’t in his best interests!
Her naturally almond-shaped eyes were played up with skilfully smudged eyeliner and long thick lashes that were as dark as the silky jet hair falling over her shoulders. High cheekbones were enhanced to create a dramatic shadow on skin as pale and smooth as alabaster porcelain, and as if to balance the dramatic vividness of her eyes in such a serene face her slightly parted mouth was glossed a slick burgundy. Intriguingly, though, the professional use of cosmetics didn’t overpower the essential, almost angelic innocence in the girl’s face. Although, Brett thought dryly, he doubted innocence was the look she’d been trying to achieve when she’d dressed.
High, firm breasts were emphasised by a body-hugging black sweater and a waist Brett figured he could have encircled with both hands. The black skirt riding on her hips might have been fractionally longer than the belt adorning it was wide, but he couldn’t swear it because his eyes were too quickly distracted by the black nylon-encased thighs it displayed before he could do a more thorough visual calculation. Being a legs man, by rights his natural curiosity to check out what lay below the over-the-knee boots she wore meant Brett shouldn’t have found them as sexy as he did, but whoa! They sure blew his perceived image of a wholesome country girl in blue jeans and Blundstones to smithereens!
The four-inch heels had him scaling down his earlier estimate of her height to about five-three in bare feet, but if she was typical of rural Australia these days he was going to have to give serious consideration to getting into agriculture. A warning glance from Meaghan had him schooling his appreciation into a polite smile.
‘Hi, Joanna, it’s nice to meet you. Meaghan and Karessa have told me a lot about you.’ Course, not as much as they didn’t tell me, he mentally added.
‘Oh! Well... I... Er...that is, it’s nice to meet you too, Mr McAlpine,’ she stammered, blushing furiously as Karessa roared with laughter.
‘Mr McAlpine! Oh, God, you make him sound as old as Mum!’
‘That’s because he is,’ Meaghan retorted. ‘And thirty-four isn’t that old, young lady; it just means nobody can ground us.’
Brett could have added that if he was so damned old how come his hormones were acting as if they’d regressed twenty years? But it seemed kinder to put the obviously uncomfortable Joanna at ease. Despite the high fashion make-up and clothes, the way she was twisting her fingers and chewing her bottom lip suggested that in the poise and sophistication stakes even fourteen-year-old Karessa would give her a run for her money.
‘Meaghan’s a terrible liar,’ he said, winking. ‘I’m actually four minutes younger than she is, so Karessa’s right—you can drop the “mister” and just make it Brett.’
The hand she extended to him was tentative, but the touch of her palm in his packed a real wallop.
‘I...hope my being here isn’t going to be an inconvenience. If it is just say so and I’ll move—’
‘Joanna, you’re not going to inconvenience anyone,’ Meaghan inserted, her tone dragging his eyes away from the blue ones which had been mesmerising him. ‘Is she, Brett?’ One eyebrow arched as she subtly flicked her gaze to his hand, which was still engulfing Joanna’s more fragile one.
Instantly he ended the handshake. ‘Absolutely not. This house is plenty big enough for both of us, Joanna. Meaghan and I grew up here, and sometimes our paths wouldn’t cross for—oh...a week at a time. Even when I wasn’t trying to avoid her.’
If he’d been caught off guard by the contrast between her angelic features and sinful curves, it was nothing compared to the impact her sudden smile had on him. The parting of her cupid-bow mouth to reveal perfect white teeth and tiny dimples caused his lungs to seize mid-breath.
‘Thank you,’ she said.