Page 44 of Rough Stock

‘Don’t change the subject. I saw your fear.’

He couldn’t have, not when she’d been trained to be an expressionless lawyer.

‘What has you so worried?’

She shook her head, backing away from him. ‘I can’t.’ She couldn’t risk his involvement.

Craig crossed his muscular arms over his broad, toned chest, his sparkly blue eyes on her. His look told her he wasn’t giving up on this.

She mirrored his look, defensively crossing her arms over her chest. ‘What did you want to ask me earlier?’ She intoned with heat as if to control her temper, but it was more to do with controlling the tremor of fear, hoping he’d take it as a signal to stop asking.

‘Fine. But I’ll get the truth out of you, eventually. And you know it.’ He then hooked his finger into the waistband of her tailored trousers and dragged her towards him. She was helpless to resist. ‘You’re coming with me.’

‘Where?’

‘You’ll see.’ He slung an arm over her shoulders. ‘Head for your latest gardening project.’

She had no choice, knowing he was using her to walk steadier on the uneven ground instead of using the crutch. He’d dropped it earlier, only to boot it across the verandah, and that’s where it remained. Having the crutches rub against his bad ribs while trying to walk had to be painful. Each step would’ve been torture. But this way he seemed to walk a little easier.

The only problem was they were close. Too close. With his arm around her, his skin against hers, his masculine aroma filling her lungs, with her side touching his. And then, when he spoke, she felt the words brush from his chest to cross over her skin, gazing into his clear blue eyes that were focused entirely on her.

‘This will do. Just under the shade of the tree.’

‘Never got my hat, did we?’ She winced under the late afternoon sun as the day prepared for a stunning sunset. The settling dust sparkled like fire beneath the sinking sun, casting a golden-red glow over the land—showing exactly how Dustfire got its name. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ He wasn’t facing the land, only her.

She stepped away from him. ‘Why are we here?’

‘To show you something. First, I’m going to cover your eyes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that’s the surprise bit.’

‘It’s not my birthday.’

‘I know. Just do it, okay.’ He frowned at her, the frustration clear in his voice.

‘Okay, okay.’ She closed her eyes, and his large hands blocked the sunlight awakening her other senses.

No matter the time of day, the outback air was always invigorating, that she had learned to track its daily changes. From sweet dewy mornings to mid-morning warmth, to scorching heat and dust by noon, through to the dry, toasty greens of late afternoon, heading into the sunset phase. That’s where the sun’s lingering kisses still warmed her skin, gradually fading as the dust settled on another day. This was the prelude to her favourite time—when the stars crowded the night sky, and the air carried the distinct perfume of the outback after dark.

Even though Izzy always wore a watch, she’d learned to recognise the time of day just by the aromas of the outback. This land was like a woman who changed her perfume with each outfit to suit the occasion, and this afternoon the outback was certainly putting on a pretty show.

‘No peeking.’ Craig’s breath was so warm across her collarbone, her skin broke out in a flush of goosebumps. ‘Just a few steps this way.’

‘Can you w—’

‘We’re doing it.’ He huffed with annoyance in her ear, yet it somehow ignited all her nerve endings to zap, tingle and pop.

‘Here we are.’ His hand fell away. ‘You can open your eyes now, sweetheart.’

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the blended beams of dappled sunlight flashing through the tree’s leafy canopy. But even then she struggled to understand what it was she was looking at.

‘It’s a truck tarp.’ A well-used canvas tarp with grease stains and patches, lay in front of them as if dropped from the sky to fan out over some odd structures.

‘I put the tarp on as a cover.’

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