Claimed By Her Billionaire Protector

Turning away so she couldn’t hear, he said quietly to the cop, ‘I’ll also ring my housekeeper; she’ll stay the night and will keep an eye on her.’

The constable nodded. ‘Great. She shouldn’t be on her own. I’ll get in touch with you when I know young Jordan’s condition.’ He paused, and gave a brief smile. ‘But watch out for fireworks. Elana’s pretty independent.’

However, when Niko returned to his car after being reassured that the leaking petrol was no longer a danger, Elana Grange looked far from independent. Eyes closed, she was leaning back in the seat, and even in the semi-darkness he could see that the colour hadn’t returned to her face, and that her hands were clenched on her bag as though reliving the impact of a crash. A pang of compassion shook him.

* * *

At the sound of the opening door Elana forced up her weighted eyelids and took a deep breath. ‘Thanks,’ she said, adding, ‘I didn’t realise just how—how affected I’d be by this.’

‘Accidents are always difficult to deal with, and for you now, I imagine much more so.’

So Phil had told him. She blinked back shaken tears. ‘I thought—hoped—I’d got over it. The shock, I mean.’

Only to fall to pieces... Sometimes she wondered if she’d ever recover from the tragedy of her parents’ deaths.

‘Give it time,’ Niko said as he set the car in motion. ‘It’s a truism, but time does heal most things—eventually.’ He paused before adding, ‘And if it doesn’t entirely heal, it usually provides the ability to cope.’

Surprised, she looked up. His angular sculpted profile and the tone of his voice made her wonder if he’d discovered this for himself. Immediately she chided herself for her self-absorption. She wasn’t the only person in the world to be forced to live with unexpected tragedy. Other people had even worse events in their lives, and managed to overcome their impact.

In a small voice she said, ‘I just miss them so much.’

To her astonishment he dropped one hand from the wheel and closed it over hers. Although strong, his grip was warm and strangely comforting.

‘That’s the worst part,’ he told her, releasing her cold fingers. ‘But eventually you’ll learn to live without them. And to be happy again.’

His pragmatic sympathy warmed some part of her that had been frozen so long she’d come to take it for granted. Had he too suffered a loss? Possibly. However, she wasn’t comfortable discussing her grief with a man she didn’t know, even though the events of the evening somehow seemed to form a link between them.

Opening her eyes, she gazed ahead as the headlights revealed paddocks and fences and the sweep of a bay.

‘Hey!’ she exclaimed. ‘Stop!’

‘Why?’ He kept on driving towards Mana homestead.

‘You’ve gone past my gate. Sorry—I should have told you where I—’

‘I know where you live.’

After digesting that she fought back bewilderment to demand, ‘Then why did you drive past?’

‘Because I agree with your policeman friend. You shouldn’t be on your own tonight.’

Silenced by a mixture of shock and outrage, she opened her mouth to speak, only to have her throat close and the words refuse to emerge.

The man beside her went on, ‘I called my housekeeper and she’s preparing a bed for you.’ And without pausing he added on an ironic note, ‘I’m sure there will be a lock on the door. If not, you’ll still be quite safe.’

Stung, she blurted, ‘I didn’t—I wasn’t...’

Housekeeper? Did he travel with a domestic ménage? Although various tradesmen and decorators had been working on the sadly neglected and almost derelict Mana homestead for some months, local gossip hadn’t mentioned a resident housekeeper.

Perhaps Niko Radcliffe guessed her thoughts, because he said calmly, ‘I assume you know that the house is still being restored, although fortunately it’s almost finished.’

Elana drew in a sharp breath. ‘It’s been the talk of the district since you bought the station.’ Along with the huge amount of money he was spending on the house as well as the land itself. ‘But I’m perfectly all right—a bit shaken, that’s all. I don’t need to be cosseted.’

‘Your policeman friend didn’t seem to think so.’

His amused tone rubbed her raw. ‘Phil’s a nice man but he’s always had an over-developed protective instinct. There’s no need for you to wake up your housekeeper and put her to this trouble.’

‘She’s another with an over-developed protective instinct,’ he said laconically, turning the wheel to swing between low stone walls. For years they’d proudly guarded the entrance to Mana homestead, but now more than a few of the volcanic boulders had tumbled to the ground.

No doubt they’d soon be put back in place.

Above the clatter of the cattle stop, Elana said grittily, ‘I—thank you.’ In his forceful, domineering way, Niko Radcliffe possibly thought he was being neighbourly.

‘It’s nothing.’

His tone told her that, indeed, he meant just that. Because, of course, his housekeeper would be the one who did any actual caring—not that it would be necessary.

She opened her mouth to say something astringent, then closed it as he went on, ‘It’s been an unnerving experience for you—and understandably so.’

‘Which doesn’t mean I’m not capable of looking after myself.’

‘Is it always so difficult for you to accept help?’

Elana couldn’t come up with any sensible response. Much as she resisted the idea, her shock at the accident and fear for Jordan weren’t the only reasons for her silence. From the moment she’d seen Niko he’d had a potent effect on her.

And she certainly wasn’t going to let him know that.

He broke the silence. ‘If Mrs Nixon had been with us, I’m sure you’d have let her sweep you off home with her.’

‘I—’ Elana paused, then said reluctantly, ‘Well—yes. But I’ve known the Nixons almost all my life, and she’d worry.’

Still amused, he said, ‘I can’t say I’d worry, but I’d certainly be concerned if I’d dropped you off by yourself. And if you’re concerned now about local gossip, you don’t have to be. My housekeeper will be enough of a chaperone.’

His response made her seem like some virgin from Victorian melodrama. Elana stifled a sharp retort. ‘I’m not at all worried about my—well, about my safety. Or my reputation. I just want to go home.’

‘No,’ he said coolly.

Fulminating, she looked across at a profile hewn of stone, all arrogant angles above a chin that proclaimed complete determination.

Sheer frustration made her demand recklessly, ‘Why are you doing this? You realise that it’s kidnapping?’

His mouth curved. ‘Tell me, would anyone in Waipuna accept that—and I’m including your policeman friend?’

He’d called her bluff. Of course they wouldn’t, and neither would she accuse him of it. Curtly she retorted, ‘I’d have preferred that we talk the matter over before you drove past my gate.’

‘Why? We’d have just had exactly the same conversation, only sooner. And I’m assuming that you’re sensible enough to accept that you’re not only tired, but still traumatised by the tragedy of your parents’ accident.’

Elana flinched, averting her face as he stopped the car outside the old homestead. The harsh glare of the headlights highlighted the amazing change huge amounts of money could produce in a few months. Evidence of years of neglect under the previous owner had been erased, and Mana homestead looked as pristine as it must have when it had first been built over a century ago.

* * *

Niko turned and inspected her. She was staring at the homestead, her features sharpened. ‘I’ve upset you. I’m sorry,’ he said, resisting the impulse to take her hands in his and offer what comfort he could.

Years ago he’d learned a harsh lesson about giving in to a compassionate impulse. A friend’s daughter had suffered a setback, and he’d taken her on a short cruise on his yacht, only to realise that she was falling in love with him. He’d felt no more for her than a brotherly affection, and had told her so as gently as he could. For the rest of his life, he’d be grateful that her attempt at suicide had failed, and that she was now happily married.

Since then, he’d been careful not to raise expectations he wasn’t able to satisfy, choosing sophisticated lovers who understood that he wasn’t interested in matrimony.

Elana Grange shook her head, her tone flat when she answered. ‘I’m rather weary of telling people I’m all right. Thank you. You’re being very kind.’ She even attempted a smile as she straightened her shoulders and said in what she probably hoped was her normal voice, ‘It’s shocking what twenty years of neglect did to this place. Those pohutukawa trees on the edge of the beach are over three hundred years old. The previous owners were going to cut them down. They said they blocked the view.’

‘Why didn’t they fell them?’

‘There was a public outcry, and a threat to take it to the environment court. I don’t know why they wanted them removed. They almost never came to Mana.’ She paused. ‘And the oak tree we’ve just passed was planted by the wife of the very first settler here.’

‘I gather from your tone that you’re not sure whether or not I’m going to bulldoze trees down,’ Niko said dryly.

* * *

Elana hesitated, before telling him the truth. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me, but I hope you’re not.’

‘I prefer to plant trees rather than kill them.’

Brief and to the point, and, because he’d decided to restore the homestead rather than demolish it, she believed him. ‘Except for pine trees, I believe.’

‘Except for wilding pines,’ he agreed.

He switched off the engine and got out. On a ragged, deep breath, Elana fumbled with the clip of her seatbelt, then wrestled with the unfamiliar door catch. Before she’d fathomed it out, the door swung open.

‘Here, take my hand,’ Niko commanded.

Scrambling out, she muttered, ‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’

Although he said nothing, she realised he was watching her closely as they walked towards the house. A woman opened the door—the housekeeper, of course—probably in her forties, with a smile that held both a welcome and some interest.

Niko said, ‘Elana, this is Mrs West. Patty, Elana Grange lives next door. She’s had a shock, so I’d suggest a cup of tea or coffee.’ He glanced down at Elana. ‘Or something a bit stronger.’

‘Tea will be fine, thank you,’ Elana said as crisply as she could, and added, ‘I’m sorry Mr Radcliffe felt obliged to put you to all this trouble.’

The older woman’s smile widened. ‘It’s no trouble. I’ve made you up a bed in a room overlooking the beach.’

‘Thank you.’ Although it had to be very late Elana was no longer tired. Just strung on wires. Tea might help her to think clearly.

Why on earth had she surrendered to Niko’s calm abduction?

The answer stared her in the face. Jordan’s accident had flung her back into the shock of losing Steve and, later, her mother.

It was too late now to regret her weakness. She was here at Mana, and, thanks to both Phil and Niko Radcliffe’s over-developed sense of responsibility, she had no way of getting home.

* * *

Five minutes later she was sitting on a comfortable sofa in a room that breathed sophisticated country style, fighting an aching weariness that clouded her mind. Barely able to prop her eyelids up, she covered a prodigious yawn.

Sitting down had not been a good move. Right then she desired nothing more than the blessed oblivion of sleep—in her own bed. Her eyes were full of grit, and somehow her bones had crumbled. The thought of getting to her feet made her want to curl up and collapse, crash out on the sofa for what was left of the night.

Niko’s black brows drew together. ‘You’re exhausted. Do you want to forego the tea?’

‘No.’ Her voice sounded oddly distant. She set her shoulders and tried for a smile, failing dismally.

‘You did well,’ he told her, his voice level.

‘So did you.’

Always, until she died, she’d remember how he looked as he dragged Jordan free of the car, the sheer brute strength of the man, and the fierce determination in his face as he carried the youth to safety.

Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘I’m going to take the next first-aid course the St John’s people advertise.’

‘An excellent idea, although I hope you never have to deal with a situation like that again.’

The urgent summons of a cell phone startled her. A mixture of adrenalin and concern forced her shakily upwards.

After a moment she realised Niko was holding out a hand to her. A cold fist of dread closing around her heart, she staggered to her feet. His fingers closed around hers, summoning a tingle of primal awareness that sizzled through her, giving her enough energy to stay upright.

He flicked his phone open, was silent a second or two, then said crisply, ‘Speaking. How is he?’

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