Her Outback Knight
Melissa James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To an old friend, whose life taught her that never trusting, never giving in or forgiving would keep her safe from hurt. I hope life has been kind to you. To Helen, my beautiful friend: I still wish you had been the one driving on that country road ten years ago…then you’d be here to share the joys and heartaches of life with me. And finally to Justin: a true hero in his ability to reach out to others, and keep giving even when life hurts you. You’re my inspiration for Jim, my darling son.

Special thanks to my own romantic hero. 24 years together, and still happy. I have the words; you have the actions. Thanks to Rachel and Mia, as always.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

University Graduation Hall, Charles Sturt University, New South Wales

“I’D LOVE TO GUIDE YOU to becoming the best veterinary surgeon you can be, Danielle. Your marks and practical experiences speak for themselves. I know you’d be a terrific asset to the practice.” His hand ran slowly up her arm.

Danni Morrison barely kept the shudder of distaste inside. A few vets had come to this graduation looking for talent to add to their surgeries, and this man had just offered her a dream job—a beautiful purple plum tossed right in her lap. A practice in inner Sydney, tending to the pampered pooches and kitties, with the added bonus of the Wildlife Rescue she’d always wanted to do as a free service thrown in.

A shame the price for the experience was far too revolting to contemplate.

At least ten retorts rose to her lips—but which one to use? The one where she’d like to decorate him…with a red-hot poker? The one on how, if she needed a father figure, she’d call her dad? That she only played doctors and vets with men with a full head of hair? Hmmm…so many good lines, so little intelligence to waste them on…

“Hey, Danni-girl, I’ve been looking for you.”

An arm was around her waist before the words, spoken in a warm, rough voice sank into her mind. No man with self-preservation instincts would ever call her Danni-girl, let alone touch her. At least none that knew her, anyway. She knew her delicate looks fooled a lot of guys into thinking she’d melt under their macho male protective instincts.

Even as she opened her mouth, something happened. Confused, she looked up at the man whose touch hadn’t inspired the usual urge to dismember him, but the most unexpected rush of sweetness….

It was Jim Haskell.

Shock held her in place. Jim had his arm around her? Jim, who had never looked at any woman but her best friend Laila in the past seven years, and never looked at her at all?

Was the world spinning the right way?

As she stared up at him, lost in uncertainty for the first time in years, Jim grinned, brushed his lips over hers as if it were an everyday thing—oh, God help me if he unleashed that on me every day—and glanced at the older man. He seemed unfazed by the older man’s perfect grooming compared to his own askew cap over unbrushed black curls, the crumpled graduation gown covering tattered jeans and runners that were as ready for retirement as the half-dead Valiant he drove, its ancient engine held together with paper clips and elastic bands. “G’day, sir. I’m Jim Haskell, Danni’s boyfriend.” He put out his free hand to shake the other man’s.

The man had already moved his hand from her arm, and Danni couldn’t blame him. With six-four of dark, pulsing masculine youth before him, he looked pale, overdressed, old and—short. “Ron Guildhall.”

“You won’t go wrong offering Danni a position, sir,” Jim assured him earnestly. “She topped the year in almost all subjects, and gets near-perfect scores in work experience. She’s a fantastic vet. Easily the best of all the candidates here today, sir.”

The man almost cringed every time Jim used the word sir, relegating him to the older generation with the simple term of respect.

He’d crushed the other man without a single word of abuse spoken.

And to think she’d always thought of Jim as gentle and unable to fight! He had more weapons than she’d ever dreamed—and he made no enemies in the battle.

“I—I’m still scouting,” the man offered, sounding weak. Beaten.

“Well, as I say, you won’t find better than Danni. I don’t suppose you have two positions? We’d really like to stay together…though I can work in a surgery nearby, huh, baby?” Jim smiled at her with the warm, intimate look of a longtime lover, wrinkled his nose and kissed her again…a touch deeper, infinitely sweeter. “Where Danni goes, I follow.”

Danni opened her mouth, and closed it. Her mind was blank. Where were all her good retorts when she needed them? She couldn’t think of any; she just couldn’t think, lost in the rush of sweetness, of gladness filling her. Jim’s touch was so right, so perfect.

For the first time in her life, a man’s touch made her feel beautiful…and it was Jim Haskell who inspired this wild, sweet aching? Yeah, sure, he was gorgeous in that open, sunny way—she’d always thought so—but—but—

Laila’s married now, a mother, and mad about her husband. Jim’s free…

“Slimeball,” Jim murmured in her ear with his customary cheerfulness, when the other man backed off to find another, more willing candidate. “He won’t bother you again.”

“I was handling it, you know,” she remarked, but with little of her normal acerbity.

Even so, his smile faded a little. He shrugged. “I knew you’d annihilate him—but I didn’t want your rep to suffer. At least if he takes you on now, it’s for your skills alone.”

She opened her mouth, but somehow only two words came out. “Thank you.” Her voice sounded odd. Husky. Feminine. Her gaze remained glued to him, and she felt so—breathless. “That was…good of you.” What did you say when someone helped you out? It had happened so rarely for her, she had no idea.

After a moment, his smile returned, and it was warm, intimate again. “You’re welcome, Danni. Just consider it my good deed for the day.”

“The original boy scout.” But again, she didn’t sound sarcastic; she sounded—ack—breathless. Feminine. Where had all her clever lines disappeared to? “I owe you one.”

Why had she said that? It was a blatant invitation for the usual male sleaze to head her way as he came onto her….

Oh, get real, this is Jim Haskell! He wouldn’t know how to be sleazy.

As if on cue, he grinned, those big, chocolate eyes of his filled with the smile no woman could ever think of as insinuating. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You’ll find a way to give back one day. You couldn’t stand to be in anyone’s debt for long.”

She gasped in a short breath, and choked on a laugh, but she didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t hit on her, or in amazement that he’d read her like a book. And the honesty she rarely showed with men came out of hiding. “You’re right. How about—” Oh, man, was she really going to say this? Without even knowing she did it, she’d reached for his hand, her fingers twining through his. “How about dinner tonight?”

She held her breath, waiting…her mind spinning. Had she really asked a man out? Asked Jim out?

Please don’t say no. Look at me and see this is a never-before event for me….

The rush of exhilaration filled her, just thinking he might say yes. She didn’t question why it was so important to her, knew only that it was. Staring up at him, she saw the change. The tiny frown gathered on his brow; backing off before she released his hand, he unintentionally jerked her toward him. “Sorry, but my family’s here—” waving at the sea of people off to the left “—and we’re heading out for a family celebration. First alma mater in the family, and all that. I’m sure your family’s here, too. Bad timing. Maybe another time, eh? You have a good one, Danni.”

With a grin and a wave he walked away, leaving Danni staring after him.

CHAPTER ONE

Thommo’s Steak House, Bathurst, two years later

FINALLY, TWO YEARS AFTER the rest of her class, his best friend had graduated—and all her friends and family, including her husband and daughter, were here to celebrate the event.

After years of thinking Laila was the woman for him, Jim had wondered how he’d feel, seeing her as another man’s wife, a mother, and pregnant again.

Now he knew.

The last flare of useless wishes and longings had ended three years ago, when he’d met Jake Sutherland, and known he was the man for her—so he’d helped them come together. His smile tonight was one of genuine joy for her happiness. He wished Laila the best in life, as he did for his sisters—and he knew she had it.

If he wondered when it’d be his turn, when he’d find a woman he truly cared for from the heart, who could love him back…well, that was natural, right? He was from a big, happy family, and he’d always wanted that kind of love and stability for himself.

A shame all he’d got the past few years was the kind of fun-time girls who filled hours, not his life or heart. Why was it that the women who chased him were lightweights, and the women he really wanted, the kind of girls he could take home to meet the family, always saw him as a brother?

“I’m out. I’m getting some real action.”

With a tiny start, he remembered he’d brought Shana tonight. He almost rolled his eyes at her terminology—Shana was twenty-two, but had an addiction to Hollywood teen flicks. He’d only brought her because she’d never been to Bathurst, and she’d begged to come.

Nice kid, but a lightweight, as always.

“Sorry, Shana. I guess it’s rough when you don’t know anyone,” he offered, knowing it sounded lame.

Her pretty, over-made-up face was pouting. “Even rougher when your date can’t take his eyes off another girl,” she muttered, for his ears alone.

Jim frowned. “It’s her night. She’s my best friend, and graduated two years after the rest of us. It’s only right she gets the attention. For Pete’s sake, she’s a married woman!”

Shana’s brows lifted. “Who, the brunette across from you?”

A lightning-fast streak ran through him, a frisson of something—he didn’t know what. Slowly, almost disbelieving, he turned around.

Danni Morrison was sitting across from him.

He’d been looking at Danni? Danni with the smart mouth and the bitter disgust of all men? Why on earth would he be looking at her?

Funny, but now he was looking, it felt natural—as if he’d been watching her so long that she’d slid into his comfort zone.

No. He could never call anything about Danni comfortable. Especially not the reaction his body was having to her soft, haunting face. More than pretty, not quite lovely, but delicate, dark and wistful, he knew if he ever had to describe her to an artist, he could have recalled each feature. He could have done so any time in the past ten years.

Why, he didn’t know; she’d never treated him with anything but disdain and sarcasm. After ten years he knew almost nothing about her—she’d never let any guy close enough to her to know her. What he did know of her made him certain she wasn’t the sort of woman he’d want in his life. He’d always hated the kind of mordant sarcasm she used as a protective shell around her.

Yet, he could drink in her face all night and never tire of it.

Had he been staring at her all night without being aware of it? It seemed ridiculous to him, yet he was doing it now, and it didn’t feel like the first time.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” came the quiet, mocking voice in his ear. “I’d never have thought a human battlefield was your type. I’m off to find a nightclub. I’ll get my own way back home.”

Shana picked up her bag and walked out. Jim knew he should call her back, or at least offer to drive her somewhere, but his manners had deserted him. He was too stunned by the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at the woman across from him.

Danni shifted on her seat and frowned at her plate of baked vegetables as if she sensed his gaze, or his inner disquiet. Or maybe it was the steak house getting to her…if she was still a strict vegetarian as she’d been during their university days.

She was as ethereal as she’d always been. He’d have thought almost two years in Europe, working, touring and visiting her German relatives would have fattened her up a bit, but she still had that waiflike look to her—the touch of faerie. Dark hair like a waving river down her back, fathomless caramel-brown eyes and restless hands; her features so delicate she seemed lost inside her gentle prettiness.

Until she opened her mouth, that is. Then the notion that she was a delicate woman in need of male protection was blasted apart. She could give an armoured tank lessons on keeping up protective shells. She scared the living daylights out of any man who ventured near her without their defensive weapons raised and ready.

Don’t patronise me had been her favourite phrase, among a hundred lines designed to keep the barbed-wire fence around her space from being breached.

“Have I got gravy on my nose, Haskell?”

Jim snapped out of his reverie with Danni’s withering tone. “No, just the usual ice around your heart,” he said without thinking—and he could have cut out his tongue, when he saw her reaction. Not that she paled, or flinched; nothing so obvious for the iron maiden. Her eyelids flickered, that was all; but in that moment, a flash of vulnerability shone in her eyes.

Hurt.

Then he remembered, knew why he couldn’t stop watching her tonight—and why she was so aware of his attention, instead of ignoring him as she always had before.

Two years ago, at their graduation celebration. Even in the midst of his family’s joy at his gaining the cap and scroll—the first alumni in his poor country family—he’d missed his best friend like crazy, and wandered around the hall as if he’d somehow be able to find Laila. Knowing it was stupid, he’d been unable to stop, feeling more and more lost and alone. He’d missed having someone to talk to, to laugh with. He could have taken a date—one of several, he’d always been popular—but none of them were Laila, and that day had been too important to waste on what he privately termed a “fluffy girl.”

Then he’d seen Danni in the middle of a conversation with one of the many veterinary surgeons who’d come looking for new talent. The man, at least twenty years older than Danni, had been sending out signals impossible to ignore…and Danni’s wistful, pretty face had grown more derisive by the moment.

He didn’t doubt her ability to handle the jerk; but by the look on her face, he’d known whatever she’d been about to say would have destroyed her career chances for years to come.

And the dirty slimebag was touching her.

Why, he still had no idea, but before he knew it, he’d strolled up as if she’d been the one he’d been looking for all night, wrapped his arm around her waist and claimed her as his woman with a cheerful grin. He’d kissed her with the casualness of long-term intimacy—a kiss that seemed to reroute his brain circuits for a few seconds—and then he’d pulled himself together, and extolled her talents as a veterinary surgeon. Within seconds, he’d got the man back onto the strictly professional path.

He’d expected no thanks for his intervention—maybe perhaps more of a verbal assault about how “sisters are doing it for themselves” from miniature Sherman tank Danni Morrison—but instead of either, she’d given him an amazed, sweet, wondering look…the look of a woman who had finally seen him as a man.

An attractive man, a man whose touch had made her feel something.

He’d never dreamed of getting that kind of look from Danni, had never wanted it from her, either. At least, he hadn’t realised how amazing it was to be a man wanted by a woman like Danni until that moment. Seeing her battle-weary face soften into radiance so strong it was terrifying…and it was because of him.

Why had he kissed her a second time? He still had no good answer—except that the first kiss had been so good. And to his disbelief, it had been even more amazing. Scary, addictive stuff….

And then, she’d asked him out. And taken his hand in hers, looking up at him as if he was something wonderful….

The kind of look Laila had given him the first time he’d rescued her. A warning shout had reverberated in his head, Get out of here! You’ll only get hurt again.

And he’d made a hurried excuse and walked away. What else could he have done?

He came back to the present, and saw the change. Danni’s chin was up, her eyes glittering defence, her mouth opening to give him the broad side of her smart tongue.

He’d be willing to bet she had another few hundred attacking lines by now, and in a few different languages…and he’d deserve it.

“I’m sorry, Danni, that was a rude and unnecessary thing to say,” he said with quiet sincerity. She deserved the apology—both for now, and for two years ago. He’d walked off on the strength of the look in her eyes, when it had probably been simple gratitude. Danni wasn’t used to anyone doing anything for her…or maybe she wasn’t used to being kissed. He’d never seen her with a guy in all the years they’d been in the same group.

Her half-open mouth stopped there. He should have been glad he’d routed the attack for once, but all he could think was how pretty her mouth was like that—how kissable. She was so lovely when she didn’t use her mouth to destroy the opposition. If he could just keep her mouth busy with other things, such as soft and pliant beneath his…

He swore beneath his breath. She’d been through more than enough pain with her parents’ crazy Hundred Years’ War. He’d be damned if he’d add to it, no matter how lovely she was, or how lost. How tempting.

Hardening his will, he turned his head, forcing his gaze elsewhere.

And saw Laila’s little, knowing grin before it vanished. He narrowed his eyes at her in warning not to go there, but all she did was wink and whisper to Jake. Jake’s sudden grin and discreet thumbs-up told Jim his best friend had relayed the news to her husband.

Laila knew him too well. The vision had been planted now, the seed taken flower. He wanted Danni, and only distance—and another willing woman or three—would supplant it. And that was only if he was very lucky; it only worked with the women who didn’t matter.

And Danni mattered from the time Laila had told him why she had so many barricades around herself. He might not wander into her line of fire, but he’d never hurt her, either.

Fantastic. Another woman he wanted so much it hurt, and he couldn’t do a thing about it. If he followed his normal pattern, he’d be hopelessly lusting after Danni for years—just as he had with Laila, and before that with Maddy Carlson throughout high school. What was it about him that made him so attractive to every woman except the ones he truly liked?

Except that this time, Danni wants you, too. You saw it two years ago, you saw it again tonight. You can have her, and get her out of your system—but there’s something vulnerable about her. Don’t hurt her.

With a savage curse, Jim jerked to his feet and stalked out of the restaurant.

Two amused grins followed him—and one confused frown. Danni didn’t know what to make of it. She turned to Laila. “What’s going on with Jim? He’s normally so easygoing, but tonight he’s like a hissing cat on hot bricks.” His face—he had always been gorgeous, in his cheerful, uncomplicated way—had been filled with quiet storms, soulful and yet hot, drawing her gaze to him over and over. And the way he’d kept staring at her—what was that about?

Her dearest friend in the world chuckled, breaking into her thoughts. “I’m guessing you’ll soon find out, Danni. Don’t forget to give me the goss. I’d like to see my two best friends happy.” Laila patted her hand and squeezed it.

She forced a frown to quell the direction of Laila’s thoughts. “You’re out of your tree, Laila. Haskell and I have known and disliked each other too many years to change now.”

Laila had known her too long to be put off by the belligerent tone. “Tell it to yourself, babe. The heated looks between you have been flying thick and fast all night.” She sighed and rubbed her belly. “Junior’s very active tonight. It’s all his father’s fault.”

“His father?” Jake and Danni asked at the same moment, with sly smiles. It was a regular joke after the birth of her very feminine daughter Ally, whom tomboy Laila had been so certain would be a boy.

Laila mock-glared at them each in turn. “Yeah, yeah, rub it in, both of you. Have your fun, while I suffer under the kick zone here.”

Danni dragged in a quiet sigh of relief that Laila dropped the Jim-topic. After the moment of unbearable sweetness two years ago and his sudden abandonment, she knew better than to think of how Jim had just been looking at her.

Except that she was thinking of it.

Beneath the table, she clenched her fists. What was it with her? She should know better than to hope—so why did she? He’d rescued her once—so what? It was in Jim’s nature to rescue people. And if for a short time she’d felt something for him…hoped, as she’d never done before with any man…that moment had shattered when he’d made his excuses and bolted at a gazillion miles an hour, as if she’d threatened him with slow torture.

It was no big deal. If nothing in her life had prepared her for Jim’s brand of kindness without agenda, or the unexpected hot sweetness that burst through her at his touch, she could handle it now. Over eighteen months of distance—crossing the world to get that distance—might not have replaced him, but at least she could see the truth right in front of her.

Some people were born for love and happy endings. It was not for her. She’d known that from the age of eight, when she’d tried to play Barbie and Ken with the other girls. Her dolls had always got embroiled in sarcasm matches and screaming rows. Her friends had thought it hilarious, but even at that tender age, some deep-buried part of her had known she wasn’t normal. She didn’t know how to give or receive love like the other girls. She didn’t know how to be happy, or to trust in any rare moments of joy lasting. Not for her.

It wasn’t in the genetics. She and Laila couldn’t be more opposite, let alone she and Jim—and that was leaving out all the things they did differently, like their work methods and their diets. Laila and Jake’s entire clan was here, singing family celebration songs, vying for the privilege of holding little Ally. Jim’s family was big, noisy and loving, and they all made the trek down here to celebrate Jim’s every achievement, coming over four hundred kilometres from the back of beyond to be with him.

Danni had chosen this university because it was three hundred kilometres from Sydney—and her home. Her parents had come to every one of her milestones, but had sat at opposite ends of the room and competed with icy precision for her attention.

No, not for her attention, for her to listen: they needed to spill their latest complaints about each other into her unwilling ears.

She was all they had, she knew that. Yet she’d only seen her parents once since she’d returned from Germany three months before.

The visit had ended after only two hours. Having gained space from them during her time in Europe, enduring their constant harping and sly, nasty comments about each other had been more than she could tolerate. After more than twenty years, she’d finally lost it.

Why don’t you separate and find your own lives? she’d said as she’d headed for the door. You should have done it when I was little, then I wouldn’t be so screwed up now. You didn’t stay together for my sake, you just want to keep punishing each other forever. I can’t stand any more. I’m your daughter, not your referee!

Since that day, her mum and dad had phoned her every day as usual, but although they’d tried apologising, asking, and finally begging her to come home, she couldn’t force herself to go back. If she had to hear one more snide, sarcastic remark between them…it felt as if she were dying of slow suffocation, a strangling of her spirit. It might entertain them, but it only hurt her, and reinforced the reasons why she’d never be normal.

She came out of her reverie to the realisation that something was wrong. By instinct, her gaze swerved to the large French doors leading onto the back veranda.

Jim stood leaning against the doorway talking into his phone, looking at her, yet it was as if she wasn’t there; his whole concentration was on the call. His body was taut, his face filled with quiet storms.

It was none of her business.

She turned her eyes back to the table, determined to show everyone that she didn’t care. She forced a smile to her face, and joined in the laughter and teasing common to their group of friends, but rare for her.

She couldn’t do it. Just as she always responded to wounded creatures in distress, she had to look at him…she had to know.

He no longer leaned on the doorpost, but stood rigid in the doorway, his face so hard it seemed carved in dark marble. His laughing eyes were like flint; his nostrils were flared. She’d never seen laid-back Jim look so shocked, or so thoroughly furious. And the pain inside the depths of those coffee-dark eyes…

He flipped his phone shut, turned on his heel and stalked back outside. She could almost feel little flicks of lightning following in his wake.

“Go to him,” Laila whispered.

Shocked, Danni stared at her friend. “Me? Jim and I aren’t even friends. You should be the one to help him. He loves you. He’ll accept your help.”

Laila’s eyes grew misty with tears. “I can’t.” She lowered her gaze for a moment. “I’ve been having the Braxton-Hicks contractions all day, on and off. I have to rest…and—and…” she sighed, her face filled with the wretchedness of guilt. “Please, just go to him. Make sure he’s all right—for me?”

Laila was hiding something from her, but the plea was genuine.

All her life, Danni held aloof from people; to grow too attached only caused pain. But from the time they’d met, Laila wouldn’t be held at a distance. Her open, loving heart didn’t know boundaries. She’d dragged the sarcastic loner Danni into her small circle and, seeing the hurt others caused Laila with the princess tag given to her as the only and most cherished daughter of an obscenely wealthy man, Danni had begun leaping to her friend’s defence before she’d even known Laila was a friend.

Laila was part of her heart now, and she asked so little. How could she refuse?

With a small smile, she walked out to find the man she wanted never to speak to again—at least not without her shield of protective sarcasm.

But that was what she had to do now, for Laila’s sake…and maybe for her own. If she did a good deed for Jim Haskell in return for his two years before, whatever it was she felt for him—lust, obligation—would be over.

The phone rang again almost as soon as he’d shut it, and again and again. He just kept disconnecting. He’d be damned if he’d answer it. The woman was demented!

Was he part of some prank? It was ridiculous, like some melodramatic movie or reality show. And he’d laugh if—if—

If her story hadn’t been so plausible.

That was the worst part of it. He’d tried to scorn the woman—Annie, she’d said her name was—or laugh at her, or think she’d got the wrong number. But she’d named his parents, his hometown…and she’d asked the fatal question.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re lighter-skinned than your parents?”

He ground out a savage curse. The woman might be crazy, but she’d known a lot about his personal life, including the wonder most kids had who didn’t strongly resemble their parents. Am I adopted?

Why now? Why had she called? What did she want from him?

“Jim?” The question sounded halting, uncertain.

With a sense of fatality, Jim turned from the tree where he leaned with a balled fist. Only one woman he knew had a voice that made him think of shadows and moonbeams. Only one woman didn’t give him the nickname Jimmy, and never had.

She stood ten feet from him, seeming smaller than her five-six or seven because she was so dainty. Her pale skin glistened in the clear moonlight; her long, shimmering waves of hair blew around her in the gentle breeze like the ocean at night. Her filmy silver skirt caught in the gusts, softly billowing. Her eyes, fixed on his face, were limpid pools of concern.

She looked like an elf maiden straight from his favourite fantasy books. So beautiful, and she had no idea of it…

“Danni,” he said with grave courtesy. Hiding his emotions, his need, as he always had. The oldest of six kids, he’d always been the dependable one in the family.

His fists clenched. Family…Were they that anymore? His one anchor in life had crumbled before his eyes, vanishing without warning.

“What can I do for you?” he managed to say with a semblance of politeness.

“Laila’s worried about you,” she said quietly. “We saw you take the phone call…and your reaction to it.”

That was Danni, never hiding behind pretty words; she always got straight to the point. “I’m fine,” he ground out, sounding almost savage. “Go back and tell Laila I’ll be in soon.”

She should have turned and gone back inside—his rare brusqueness had that effect on people—but she stood her ground. “I wouldn’t be able to reassure her, and she’d only get more worried. I can stand a lot of things from people, but I always know when someone’s lying to me…and Laila will know, as well. I can’t lie to her.”

“So I’m not fine,” he snarled, surprising even himself with his sudden hostility. “What do you care? You don’t even like anyone here but Laila.”

“True.” Her smile was remote, austere. “And I won’t have her worried right now. She’s in pain and trying to hide it for the family’s sake. I can’t go in there and say ‘He said he’s fine, now leave him alone.’ You know she loves you. She’s worried about you.”

A sudden shaft of bitterness hit him. If Laila had loved him enough, he would have her to share this with. He wouldn’t feel so scared or so alone.

“Yeah, Laila loves me. Just like my sister. It’s wonderful.” Though he knew the bitterness would fade as quickly as it came, he still said it, wanting to push Danni away, make her turn and flounce back into the restaurant, safe inside her anger and mistrust of all men.

Again she surprised him by holding her ground. “It’s more wonderful than you know. You take all the love in your life for granted. I always wanted a sister, a brother—anyone to be there for me the way your family is for you. The way Laila is there for you.”

The unconscious reminder inside her words cut him all over again. Family.

“Excuse me, would you?” Without waiting to see what she did—he could count on Danni walking away in stiff-necked pride, rather than be unwanted—he called home.

A soft, feminine growly voice answered in moments. “Hello?”

“Mum?” he said, feeling for the first time the utter comfort of that word; for the first time, not accepting it as his right. You take all that love for granted. “It’s me.”

“Kilaa,” she cried, using his totem Aboriginal name: the galah, a big white bird—the one who’d flown away. “Are you all right? Seeing Laila again, it hurts, huh?”

Though a dim part of him knew Danni was still listening, the tide of emotion, repressed and held in, spilled over. “I just got a call from a woman named Annie. She claims she’s my real mother.”

A stifled gasp was his only answer for a few moments…moments that stretched out to almost a minute. “Kilaa…” she finally said, her voice weak. Shaking. “Let me explain…”

But she didn’t. He could hear the quiet sobs from the other end of the line.

“It’s…true?” he asked through stiff lips.

One word came and it shattered his world. “Yes.”

“Who is she?” The words came without his knowing they were there.

“She’s my sister—my half sister. My mum had her before she met my dad.”

He frowned. It felt unbelievable to him—his family was too close. “Then why haven’t I met her before? Why hasn’t she come to any family parties and stuff?”

“We always invited her, Kilaa. She never came.” His mother—except she’s not my mother—spoke in a slow, teary voice. “She was taken away by the authorities when she was two, because she was half-white. She came back at twenty or twenty-one with you. She said she couldn’t afford a baby—but really, she couldn’t handle it.”

“Why not?” he asked, but given his knowledge of their people’s history—he’d done a semester of it in second year—he thought he knew.

“She was raised in an institution. I think being with us only reminded her of what she’d never had in life, poor Annie.” His mum sighed. “Anyway, she gave you to me—I was only nineteen then—and then she left. I was already with your father. He said, ‘So he’ll be our firstborn.’ And you were to us. You were always our firstborn.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Kilaa, come home, let us explain to you. You are still our son.”

Jim heard the words, but barely took them in. So Dad isn’tmy father, either. My grandfather isn’t my grandfather, my brothers and sisters are—are my cousins….

Suddenly he wished he was a vegetarian like Danni; the steak he’d eaten for dinner sat like lead in his stomach. His knees were shaking, his head spinning.

The bottom was falling out of his world. Half an hour ago, his unwanted attraction for Danni was tragic to him.

What a difference a phone call makes, he thought grimly.

CHAPTER TWO

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THIS over the phone. Expect me in a couple of days. I’ll arrange a locum for the practice.” He flipped his phone shut and leaned against the tree with a clenched fist. Scraping his knuckles raw hitting the rough bark, over and over.

As she watched him hurting his bleeding hand far less than the pain in his heart, Danni had absolutely no idea what to do. What can you say, when a man has his entire life stripped from him in the space of five minutes?

She was useless here. More than anything she wanted to turn tail, run inside the restaurant and send Laila out here. She was Jim’s best friend; she always had something unexpected and wise to say, or at the very least, she’d hold him close and be here for him.

Which would only be another reminder of something he’s lost.

It looked like she was it, then, God help her. What did she say? How did she start?

A moment later, he stopped hitting the tree. “I know you’re still there,” Jim said, his back stiff. “I can hear you breathing. I can feel the indecision jumbling around in your head.”

That was Jim—the only man she’d ever known who didn’t treat her with wary diffidence because he’d never been frightened by her fighting reflex or sarcastic tongue. He treated her like every other woman he knew, with teasing and truth. With the respect he gave to all women.

The only man she’d never been able to feel cynical about…at least until he’d ended her most private hopes before they’d truly begun.

But all that was past. He needed help now, and she was the only one around.

She stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Jim.” The words sounded stilted, even to her.

Using only one shoulder, he shrugged. Was he blocking her off, or unable to speak about it? She didn’t know. She didn’t know him well enough to judge.

What an ironic commentary on my life, considering I’ve known the man, been in the same circle of friends with him ten years.

“Your real mother called?” She wanted to hit herself for the stupid question, but she had to start somewhere, and she had no idea of how to reach out to him.

Still leaning against the tree with a balled fist, he nodded.

What did she say from here? More inane questions to force him to talk—or did she give him the peace and space to think?

To grieve, you mean.

Yes, she understood that—from personal experience.

“Um, do you want me to get Laila?” I’m no good here. I shouldn’t be involved in this.

He didn’t answer; but in his stillness and silence, his stiff stance, she still felt the waves of need coming from him. He didn’t want to be alone; but being Jim, he didn’t know how to ask for help.

What could she do?

Forcing her feet to move, she walked to him, doing what Laila would have done. Reaching out to him, lifting her hand to touch his shoulder, hoping it was enough. That she was enough, because no one else had bothered to come out to see if he was all right, if he needed anything.

Not one of Jim’s many friends had come to him.

She frowned. Why hadn’t they come out? Jim would have done so for them—he had done it, whenever any of them needed him. Laila was the only one with a valid excuse—and she was the only one fretting over his welfare, or had even noticed his pain.

At the touch, he turned his face and looked down at her. His eyes were shattered.

“Oh, Jim,” she breathed. Though she was wading waist-deep in a stormy ocean of the things she’d always avoided before—vulnerability, emotional attachment to a man—she worked on an instinct she didn’t know she had, tugging him toward her.

Wanting to comfort him.

With a muffled sound, the tortured moan of an animal caught in a trap, he grabbed her and hauled her hard against him, dragging in ragged breaths.

A drowning man holding onto a leaky life preserver. Wishing she knew how to help, she sighed and gave up, wrapped her arms around him and let him be.

Six foot four of raw masculinity surrounding her had a swallowed-alive feel to it. The hot, sweet tenderness so foreign to her two years before when he’d held her returned in a rush. The jumble of changes in her life in a single hour left her humbled, confused and wanting all at once. She didn’t know what to do with the inner whisper telling her she was in the right place at the right time.

Yet somehow, her silence wasn’t wrong or pitiful. Maybe quiet was what he needed far more than her imperfect words. After all, words had just torn his life apart.

They stood locked together for a long time. The quiet shimmered with peace, like sunlight on a winter pond, gentle and beautiful. Though she’d never done this with a man before, standing in Jim’s arms, holding him close and giving him comfort felt so natural she almost forgot to question it, to remember the differences between them.

Perhaps that was the reason: the biggest differences between them had been removed. The rug of secure family had been pulled out from beneath his feet, while she’d never had a rug. Suddenly opposites had become two of a kind—but the welter of confusion, fury and unexpected grief had blinded him. He’d need a guide to walk him through the darkness.

And she knew that darkness well: the parental lies and omission; feeling as if you don’t belong anywhere; feeling lost and alone. She’d walked in that darkness ever since the day she’d realised other kids’ mummies and daddies actually liked each other. They didn’t all buy separate groceries, use the kitchen at different times and sleep in separate bedrooms. They didn’t all stay together for the sake of the child, living in a trap of semi-polite hatred and needle-fine insults.

Some parents loved each other.

Some parents didn’t lie to their kids—and gentle, honest Jim had just discovered, at age thirty, that he’d lived a lie all his life. He’d been a lie all his life.

Slowly, the stiffness in him softened. He still clung to her, but it felt more relaxed, sharing rather than the drowning man’s hold. She could breathe again.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her hair.

“You’re welcome,” she murmured back, feeling her hair move, and his breath touch her skin. She shivered.

He lifted his face and looked at her, those dark eyes filled with turbulence; and yes, the wanting she couldn’t help feeling for him, even here and now, it was there in his eyes, too. Even though she knew Jim was an expert in playing the game—he’d had girls hanging off him for as long as she’d known him—in the reflection of the deep blackness of his eyes, she still felt beautiful, truly desired as a woman for the first time.

And she felt—vulnerable. Feminine. Lost, but happy to be so…and her lips parted…

“I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Danni blinked, trying to reorient herself. The kiss they hadn’t shared had seemed so real, she felt as if he’d wrenched it from her—just as she’d felt it two years before when he’d turned her down and walked away without looking back.

Tonight had been a terrible shock for him, she admonished herself. He needed time to adjust, not kisses, biting wit or sharp-tongued defences: he needed a friend. She couldn’t leave him alone with this.

As alone as I’ve been all my life…and I survived it, didn’t I?

Yeah, you’re a regular poster girl for personal growth.

After long moments, she said tentatively, “You should go home, talk to your—” She stopped there, uncertain what to call them now, the people who’d raised him and loved him.

His smile was a grim travesty of the open, cheerful, I know who I am and where I belong smile that had ticked her off all these years…and yet now, it hurt that he wasn’t the same man he’d been an hour ago. “It’s okay to call them my family. Apparently I’m still related.”

Wondering how he fit in now, she smiled back at him. “That’s good.”

“Half nephew,” he said, reading her thoughts without difficulty. “If there’s such a thing as a half nephew.”

“Well, that’s good…isn’t it? I mean, you still belong with them.” She closed her mouth, cursing her stupid tongue—and her body. His touch, the depth of his gaze on her was stirring her senses so much she couldn’t think. She’d been thrown without warning into a world where she wanted so much more than to best a man at the game he played, a world without superficial rules.

Maybe it was because Jim was incapable of playing games tonight; he was in too much pain to handle it. She had to ignore her pathetic wish that she could have been in his arms an hour before the phone call had rocked his life off its secure foundations.

“I suppose I do still belong.” He kept looking at her. His hands, at her back, moved a little. The most tentative caress she’d ever known.

She felt her breath catch again. Looking at him became dangerous, yet she couldn’t stop. What was he doing? What did he want from her: a friend to understand his pain, or a lover to help him forget for a while? The thought sent a shudder of longing through her.

Did she follow his lead, or ignore it? She didn’t know; all she knew was she couldn’t breathe again, and her gaze clung to his.

“I have to go,” he whispered, but held her still.

Without breath or balance, she nodded again, not trusting her voice. Wanting too much. Craving. She rested her hands against his chest, trying to find the strength to move.

“I want you, too, Danni,” he said quietly, giving her the words she didn’t know she was aching to hear until they came. “Right now I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman more. But until I know who I am, I can’t give you what you need.”

From another man, the words would have brought out her fighting spirit. She didn’t need anything from a man. She would make her way alone, and succeed.

From Jim, it was raw truth, he was hurting too much to tell her anything else.

She didn’t want to think about whether he was right or not. “So you can’t give your usual one hundred and fifty percent. Maybe it’s time someone gave to you, Haskell,” she said, hearing the huskiness of desire in her voice. “I don’t think you should go home alone.”

He tipped up her chin, his gaze searching her face, so taken aback by her words, his brows met in a frown. “Are you offering to come with me?”

Amazed that she actually was, she nodded…and made a soft, purring sound when his hand caressed her back, and the other moved beneath the sensitive skin at her chin.

He made a helpless gesture, a little shrug that conveyed his confusion. “Why?”

How to answer that, when she didn’t know herself? “I owe you for saving my butt two years ago. And I’ve been where you are, in a way,” she said, hearing the soft breathlessness thrumming through each word. “I might not be adopted, but I’ve spent my life wishing I was.” She looked up at him, half-defiant. “You know my story. I suppose everyone does. I’ve been navigating the waters of parental lies and self-delusion all my life. You can’t let them to fluff you off with their version of the story—and believe me, they’ll try. Even the best parents hate being caught out lying or being in the wrong. They should have told you years ago, and given you the chance to find your real parents.” She drew a deep breath after saying more in one go than she had for years. “You shouldn’t be left alone with this.”

“What about your job?”

She shrugged. “I quit three weeks ago. I’ve only been doing locum work until I find the right practice. So I’m free to come with you.”

“How about where you live? Laila said you signed a lease on a place in Sydney?”

She shrugged. “My stuff’s there. A week’s rent’s no big deal.” She frowned as he began to find another objection. “Look, I’ll come if you want me to. I may not be Laila,” she added tartly, “but I’m free for another week or two. I don’t see anyone else offering to be your support person.”

Why on earth am I pushing this?

As if he’d heard her thought, a brow lifted. “And…? Come on, Danni, say it.”

She bit her lip over a crazy urge to smile. She ought to have known he wasn’t going to let her leave it unsaid, or let her hide behind her sarcasm. Typical of Jim—but she knew whatever she gave to him now he’d give back tenfold, because he always did.

The thought of what he’d give her, what she’d been wanting from him from the first moment he’d touched her at graduation two years ago, made the sweet wanting bloom into a hot ache in every part of her body.

Wrong time, wrong place, probably the wrong people as well…But she didn’t care.

“And because…” She lifted her chin and said it outright, “I don’t want you to walk away again and leave whatever this is between us hanging for another two years.”

He laughed then—not with his whole heart, not as cheerful as the past—but still he’d laughed, and she’d done it for him. She felt a little glow of pride. This reaching out and doing things for people actually felt pretty good—at least, it felt good with Jim.

When he spoke, the warm laughter was still there…but so was the desire. “Spoken like the straight-from-the-hip woman you are.”

“Is that bad?” She moved her hands on his chest.

His eyes darkened. “It’s good, Danni. It’s damn good. I didn’t think you’d ever admit to it.” He pulled her closer. “Come on, little fighter. Make it real.”

Maybe he wanted her; maybe he just wanted one piece of good news tonight, or a distraction from the knock he’d suffered. Maybe he was lying to himself—but he was too honest to do that. And he’d been looking at her like that before the call.

She didn’t question why, after a lifetime of denial with men, she wanted to say this, and now; she only knew she must, or he wouldn’t kiss her. Her hands caressed up his chest to his shoulders; then, the ache of her yearning made truth imperative. She pulled at him, trying to bring him down to her. “I want you, Haskell, all right? I want to be with you.”

That gorgeous, big-as-the-Outback grin she’d always hungered to see even as she’d pretended to hate it, spread across his face. “Now say the rest of it,” he whispered, resisting her pull, forcing her out of all hiding. Making the thing between them as honest as it was inevitable.

“All right. I’ve wanted you for two years.” She sighed impatiently, tugging harder. “And waiting for you to touch me again is making me crazy. So shut up and kiss me. Then maybe we can get back to being friends.”

He leaned down into her and nuzzled her hair. “We’ve never been friends, Danni. You never let me in,” he murmured in a warm, blurry voice, thick with desire.

Why did he think she hadn’t? She’d wanted this for so many years, ached for it, and getting close to him wasn’t an option when he was never close enough.

Need was pain now. She couldn’t think beyond him, his touch, his closeness that wasn’t close enough. “Now, Haskell, or I might have to kill you.”

With a low chuckle he turned his face, trailing his lips over her ear, her cheek and jaw…and she purred in the purest pleasure she’d ever known.

Hearing Danni making the little, feminine sounds of desire—how the hell has she wanted me for so long?—drove Jim almost out of his head; yet still he took his time, keeping his kisses slow, gentle and arousing. He tasted the silky skin of her jaw down to her throat. So soft and sweet…she tasted like rich, creamy ice cream.

He’d always had an unquenchable greed when it came to ice cream.

Did her mouth taste the same? He had to know—and she was turning her face, seeking his mouth in blind want. With a groan, he lifted her up against him—so small and sweet, this Danni; how could he ever have compared her to a Sherman tank?—and let it happen.

Bam.

He’d known for years he had the hots for Danni—what guy wouldn’t, given her delicate loveliness, the challenge of her defences and battleground intellect?—but he’d dismissed it as an inconvenient desire that would never stack up against his love for Laila. But man, with that first touch on his shoulder, meant only in comfort, Danni had knocked him for six in a way Laila never had.

Was it possible that, blinded by what he’d thought was real love for Laila, he’d been ignoring something incredible he could have had with Danni? All these years, thinking something was wrong with him, that only lightweight girls returned his desire, while the kind of woman he really wanted—intelligent, sensitive, focussed and strong, never wanted him…

Now his desire was being fulfilled by a woman who not only had all those qualities in spades, but was returning kiss for kiss. Her delicate roundness was lying flush against him, her throat made eager sounds…and he felt as if he were flying. The simple act of kissing—and he’d done a lot of it in the past three years, among other things—had never felt so amazing, so intense.

Why that suddenly brought everything back to him, he didn’t know. One moment he felt as if he were captain of Starship Danielle, the next he was putting her down, staggering back and staring at her as if—as if—

Damned if he knew what. Damned if he knew anything at this point.

Within a moment, he regretted his panic-inspired reaction, because Danni had gone from soft, flushed and starry-eyed to having more defences than a hedgehog. Her mouth, dark in the night but he knew was rosy and flushed from his kiss, opened to say something stinging—and he couldn’t think of a thing to say to stop her this time.

“Don’t tell me—‘it’s not you, it’s me,’” she said, her tone flippant. Her hands were on her hips, her chin up, ready to do battle.

The trouble was he’d dumped himself on earth from the stratosphere too fast; he couldn’t think beyond what had made him panic in the first place. “I don’t know who I am.” He half turned from her. “My father isn’t my father, either. Nobody is who I thought they were—and I’m not anything I thought I was. I have to know the truth.”

The sarcasm wiped from her face. When she spoke, the warm, half-laughing ruefulness reached inside his soul, into the pain and softening it. “That’s just typical of you, Haskell, you know that? You can put me in the wrong so fast my head spins.”

Ridiculously relieved that he’d somehow said the right thing with her for once, he grinned. “Well, you just made my head spin, so we’re even.”

In the moonlight, he could see her blush.

“I still want you, Danni.” He could hear the huskiness in his voice. “But I’ve got no idea where even I’m going from here, so I can’t say where we would go.”

“I know where you’re going. To your parents’ house,” she said, taking his hand. Her face was very gentle now. “From there—” she shrugged “—I never expected promises. We indulged ourselves for a few minutes, and it was pretty nice. But you have things you have to sort out, and I’m along for the ride while I work out my future. So let’s get back to…no, let’s become friends, Jim Haskell.” With a lifted chin and a smile of promised camaraderie, she shook the hand she held.

Not for long, though. Jim released her hand so fast she stumbled back over one of the tree roots, staring at him in shock.

No way!

He could see the danger signs plastered, posted and splashed all over whatever this was with Danni. After that life-changing kiss, she was saying she hadn’t wanted anything from him beyond the moment.

Liar. Liar!

Danni Morrison was not about to become another woman in the life of Jim Haskell, Woman’s Best Friend!

Without warning, everything that had happened to him tonight—or maybe all his life—took its toll. Nothing would ever be the same again—and happy-go-lucky, roll-with-the-punches Jim Haskell disappeared. Pure, unadulterated fury flooded through him, all of it currently aimed at the woman trying not to land on her butt between tree roots and powdery red earth.

She’d never called him a friend before—he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her get away with that kind of cowardice now. He’d become Danni’s friend when the equator froze over. The woman was always geared for battle—he’d see how she handled it when someone took up the gauntlet.

Without warning he grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s hit the road,” he snarled.

“Jim, what are you doing?” she cried as he all but dragged her into the restaurant and snatched up her bag.

“You coming?” he challenged her when, clearly embarrassed by everyone’s laughter and knowing grins, she began to pull back, trying to get him to release her hand. “Are you keeping your word, or will you keep lying to me like you just did? Are you going to turn coward and bail because someone finally called your bluff after all these years?”

That was all he needed to say. Her chin lifted, her nostrils flared and she looked at him as if she hated his guts, but she said, “Don’t bother turning the tables on me with my own sarcasm, Haskell. I’ve done years more psychology than you’ll ever know.”

“Good, then you can psychoanalyse me on the road, can’t you?”

“Or ditch you on it!”

“Yeah, go for it.” With deliberate patronage, he patted her on the head. “You handle the verbal attacks. Let’s see you get physical again.” He grinned down at her. “I dare you.”

The entire table of their mutual friends burst into stunned laughter. Laila was blinking, laughing with the others, but clearly flabbergasted. Her best friend—everyone’s best friend, sweet and patient, giving Jimmy Haskell had shown his darker side for the first time, not backing down an inch, and none of them knew why.

Damned if he knew why, either. Who would have guessed Danni of all people had the power to bring out the tiger in him? Jim himself hadn’t dreamed of it until a few minutes ago. But he’d had enough of losing to the women he really wanted.

He didn’t question why he really wanted Danni—he only knew he did. And he would not take her offer of friendship lying down. This time he’d fight, right to the finish.

She wanted him, damn it—and he’d force her to come out of wherever she was hiding, make her come to him, to touch him. He’d make her purr for him again….

It seemed he’d knocked out this particular little champ, at least for the moment. Danni’s delectable mouth remained closed, but sparks of fury told Jim the bell for the next round was about to ring—as soon as they were alone.

He kissed Laila’s cheek. “Congrats, babe. Got to go. I’ll call you, okay? Love you.”

“You okay, Jimmy?” she whispered.

About to reassure his best friend, he remembered Danni’s words about lying to Laila and making her more worried. “No, but I will be. With a little help from my new friend.” He flicked a deliberate, knowing grin at Danni, whose tight mouth and paleness around distended nostrils told him that friendship was the last thing on her mind when it came to him.

Good, he thought in intense satisfaction. He’d rather keep her in a constant passion, even if it was pure fury, than ever receive another offer of friendship from her.

He was going to keep it that way from now on. Bringing Danni’s passion to life was worth the price he’d pay later, no matter what kind of passion it was.

And for once, he was looking forward to the battle.

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