‘I couldn’t wear them otherwise.’ Now he was stripping off his soaked T-shirt with total unselfconsciousness, throwing it in the tub before he turned back to her. His eyes blazed like diamonds in his dynamic face. His hair was like black silk. A beautiful man. ‘Sure there’s nothing of yours I could wear?’ he joked, putting up both hands to skim back that wet hair.
Her heart skipped a beat and her blood coursed to her most sensitive places. She wasn’t sure how she liked him best. Dressed or undressed? Hell, she couldn’t just stand there admiring him, though she actually felt like taking the grand tour around him. Instead she managed a laugh. ‘We’re not really of a size. Don’t worry, everything’s clean. You can’t imagine how fastidious Mark is. Most of the stuff is brand-new.’
‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ he said, running a careless hand over his wet chest, a gesture she found incredibly erotic.
‘There are clean towels in the cupboard.’ Never in her life had she drunk in the sight of a man’s body like this. ‘Everything you need is there. Don’t get under the shower before I come back.’
‘Why not?’ He shot her a questioning glance…
‘Naked men make me uncomfortable,’ she joked.
He laughed aloud, looking wonderfully vital. ‘Really? And you an ex-married woman! Surely you saw a naked man on a daily basis? Anyway there is such a thing as a towel. I assure you I’d have one at the ready. The last thing I want to do is throw you into a panic. I’ll sit right here.’ He turned, presenting the wide, gleaming fan of his tanned back and pulled up a chair. Then he sat on it, back to front, aiming his wonderful smile at her.
How had this man got so close to her? Why had she let him?
You didn’t have a choice.
Yet he could cast her adrift. Anything was possible in life. But for now, he was making her feel things she had never felt before. She had to will herself to move. ‘Won’t be long.’ She had already taken off her boots and used a towel to mop up the worst of the mud, now she padded towards the doorway leading into the hall. ‘Not much chance of your driving back to Jimboorie.’ She half turned back. ‘Not in this!’
‘So what are you saying, I can stay?’ His tone was disturbingly mocking, even erotic.
She held his gaze as long as she could, shocked by the wrenching physical sensations in her body. She wasn’t a schoolgirl with a crush on the captain of the football team. She was an experienced woman, twenty-seven years old. ‘Well you’re welcome to bolt if you think it’s too risky,’ she said tartly.
‘Never!’
Rory offered up a silent prayer.
And lead me not into temptation.
‘I’ll stay,’ he said. ‘Thank you most kindly, Allegra. It’ll give us the opportunity to have a good long chat.’
Rory washed out his gear and threw it in the dryer. Then he turned to examining Mark Hamilton’s clothing most carefully. Everything Allegra had selected was brand-new and fine quality. He read the labels. From the dark blue polo shirt to the beige cotton trousers and the classy underpants. He tried to visualise Allegra’s ex-husband. Couldn’t. Chloe had called him a ‘lovely guy’ handsome and clever. Was he all of those things? Allegra in a driven moment had called him a clown! What did that mean exactly? A man forever playing innocuous but annoying practical jokes? A man not seriously minded enough for her? He had to be impaired in some way. He was a poor lover? He was a violent lover? Clown didn’t sound violent. Who knew what went on inside a marriage anyway? Besides he couldn’t trust Chloe. Chloe had made an art form out of putting down her exquisite sister.
Hamilton was a heavier build. And some inches shorter. The shirt was okay. He had to hitch up the trousers with his own belt. Rory was much leaner through the waist and hips. The length fell short but okay, who cared? She had even found him a pair of expensive leather loafers that fitted well enough. He took a look in the mirror, thrust back his damp hair and laughed. He had never worn a shirt of such a wondrous electric-blue.
‘Gosh you look like someone famous!’ Allegra swallowed when she caught sight of him.
‘Don’t say a rock star.’ He grimaced. ‘The blue makes me look swarthier than usual.’ He glanced down at the shirt.
‘Far from it. It’s great. You’re a good-looking guy, Compton.’ She led the way into the kitchen. ‘I could find you work tomorrow.’
‘You surely can’t mean as a male model?’
‘You want to check out what they’re earning,’ she retorted. ‘The guys who get to model here and overseas earn a fortune.’
‘No, thanks. For better or worse I’m buying Naroom. All we need is the paperwork done.’
‘And Valerie’s and Chloe’s okay,’ she tacked on.
‘Consider that a fait accompli.’ He watched her take salad ingredients out of the crisper in the refrigerator.
‘What are we having?’
‘Something easy,’ she said. ‘Steak and salad and maybe some French fries. This afternoon was pretty strenuous.’
‘I did warn you.’ He let his gaze rest on her, feeling a surge of desire. She had teamed a delicate little lilac top, which looked like silk—he had a mad urge to feel it—with a flowing skirt. Her beautiful hair streamed over her shoulders and down her back, drying in long loose waves. There wouldn’t be a man alive who wouldn’t get a buzz from simply looking at her, he thought. She was just so effortlessly beautiful. Exclusive looking yet she had worked tirelessly that afternoon. Tirelessly and extremely well. This might be a woman who looked like an orchid but she didn’t hesitate to pitch in. He found himself full of admiration for her. She was a woman of surprises.
‘Valerie and Chloe were prepared to say yes to $3.5 million,’ he reminded her, picking up the conversation. ‘Thanks to you they get more.’
She took two prime T-bone steaks from the refrigerator and put them down on the counter before turning to him. Her expression was brushed with worry. ‘Valerie said she was going to consult a solicitor with a view to contesting the will.’
‘In what way?’ He could see that upset her.
‘Dad left me a half share of everything,’ she said, ‘whereas Valerie and Chloe had quarter shares.’
‘Tough,’ he said, thinking she didn’t have a problem. ‘I’m no lawyer but I’m willing to bet your father left his will airtight. Don’t worry, Allegra. I’d say Valerie was trying to make you suffer. You can bet your life she’s already been on to a solicitor who’s told her she hasn’t a chance in hell of contesting the will. You won’t be embroiled in any lawsuit and this deal will go through more smoothly than you think.’
‘I don’t really want it to go through,’ she confessed, leaning against the table.
‘Which part of me don’t you like?’ He stared at her hard.
‘This is home, Rory.’ She met his challenging gaze. ‘My father brought my mother here as a bride. I was born here. Even when I was away from it I still lived here, if you know what I mean?’
‘I surely do.’ He thought she put it well.
‘To be honest I’d like to die here.’
He stirred restlessly at that. ‘Don’t for God’s sake talk about dying,’ he said tersely. ‘You’ve got a long life in front of you. Would you want to stay here and work it?’
‘I could do it,’ she said. ‘I’d have to sack guys like Gallagher and Evans and hire some good men. Then I’d see if I could get our old overseer back.’
‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘Like I said, you’re