Read Online Heart of the Outback by Emma Darcy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Emma Darcy
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appeal. “Does that all sound too abominable?”
She eyed him consideringly, privately amazed that he was prepared to share his daughter to this extent. Then hard cold reason insisted that more likely, in his mind, his daughter was totally irrelevant. She was being used as a means to further his purpose in breaking down the resistance he had met last night.
“When you go after something you go full bore, don’t you?” she accused.
“I do what has to be done,” came the unequivocal reply. “Don’t you, Alida?”
“I don’t think I’d ever do things your way, Gareth,” she said slowly.
“Maybe you’ll change your mind about that.” The challenge of desire simmered in his eyes, making her extremely conscious of the responses he evoked in her body. “Our ten minutes is up,” he added abruptly. “Let’s go and meet Stacey.”
Alida rose slowly from her chair. Her legs did not feel steady. Gareth watched her, making her extremely conscious of the way her outfit accentuated the womanliness of her figure. The coordinated two-piece was one of her favourite creations, especially chosen for her television appearance, but she doubted Gareth was taking in its artistic detail.
The top was a white cotton-knit pullover featuring embroidered panels that combined the yellow-gold flower spikes of banksia with its fine soft green leaves. The wide rib clung to the curve of waist and hip. Graceful flowing sleeves were caught into embroidered cuffs just below the elbow. The pullover was teamed with a yellow-gold culotte in a cotton-poly fabric that fell neatly into inverted pleats. Flat white sandals, intricately woven into thin straps of leather, and a matching white shoulder bag completed the outfit.
As she rounded the desk, Alida felt Gareth’s eyes burning through her clothes, making her skin prickle with sensitivity. When she swung around to face him, she found him totally still, as though intensely absorbed in the picture he was forming of her in his mind.
“I’m ready,” she said curtly.
His gaze flicked up the long silky fall of her caramel-butter hair and fastened on the deep green pools of her eyes. His smile tripped her heart into hammering wildly.
“Ivan is right. A golden girl. But not his, I trust,” he observed sardonically as he slid off the desk.
She laughed, more out of nervous relief than amusement. “Hardly. I’m not his type. Ivan is of a different persuasion from you, Gareth. And you shouldn’t read other people’s letters.”
“The card was on open view. On the receptionist’s desk,” he excused, strolling over to the door for her. “Why is he your devoted admirer?”
“It’s a matter of pleasing his artistic eye,” she retorted drily. “He sells my fabric designs.”
“Ah! Business.”
The dismissive way he said that stung Alida. When he opened the door and gestured her to walk ahead of him she deliberately paused beside him, fixing him with a cool challenging look. “Ivan Poletti is also my very good friend. Loyal, caring and supportive. Try beating that, Gareth.”
Then she swept past him and led the way out, waving a farewell salute to a smug-looking Jill and her highly interested receptionist. Gareth caught up with her at the lift. He said not a word until they were in the small compartment, heading down to the ground floor.
“I can give you what he can’t,” he said to her.
She met his eyes. “You overrate that, Gareth,” she said dismissively.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You only live once, Alida.”
The lift doors opened onto the foyer of the office building. Gareth took her arm to steer her to wherever they were going. His closeness, the warmth of his hand, the words he had spoken…all clouded her mind, tantalising her with the idea of succumbing to the needs he aroused. It would be so easy to give in and take what satisfaction she could from being with him, however temporarily.
But she was playing for higher stakes here. She had to
She eyed him consideringly, privately amazed that he was prepared to share his daughter to this extent. Then hard cold reason insisted that more likely, in his mind, his daughter was totally irrelevant. She was being used as a means to further his purpose in breaking down the resistance he had met last night.
“When you go after something you go full bore, don’t you?” she accused.
“I do what has to be done,” came the unequivocal reply. “Don’t you, Alida?”
“I don’t think I’d ever do things your way, Gareth,” she said slowly.
“Maybe you’ll change your mind about that.” The challenge of desire simmered in his eyes, making her extremely conscious of the responses he evoked in her body. “Our ten minutes is up,” he added abruptly. “Let’s go and meet Stacey.”
Alida rose slowly from her chair. Her legs did not feel steady. Gareth watched her, making her extremely conscious of the way her outfit accentuated the womanliness of her figure. The coordinated two-piece was one of her favourite creations, especially chosen for her television appearance, but she doubted Gareth was taking in its artistic detail.
The top was a white cotton-knit pullover featuring embroidered panels that combined the yellow-gold flower spikes of banksia with its fine soft green leaves. The wide rib clung to the curve of waist and hip. Graceful flowing sleeves were caught into embroidered cuffs just below the elbow. The pullover was teamed with a yellow-gold culotte in a cotton-poly fabric that fell neatly into inverted pleats. Flat white sandals, intricately woven into thin straps of leather, and a matching white shoulder bag completed the outfit.
As she rounded the desk, Alida felt Gareth’s eyes burning through her clothes, making her skin prickle with sensitivity. When she swung around to face him, she found him totally still, as though intensely absorbed in the picture he was forming of her in his mind.
“I’m ready,” she said curtly.
His gaze flicked up the long silky fall of her caramel-butter hair and fastened on the deep green pools of her eyes. His smile tripped her heart into hammering wildly.
“Ivan is right. A golden girl. But not his, I trust,” he observed sardonically as he slid off the desk.
She laughed, more out of nervous relief than amusement. “Hardly. I’m not his type. Ivan is of a different persuasion from you, Gareth. And you shouldn’t read other people’s letters.”
“The card was on open view. On the receptionist’s desk,” he excused, strolling over to the door for her. “Why is he your devoted admirer?”
“It’s a matter of pleasing his artistic eye,” she retorted drily. “He sells my fabric designs.”
“Ah! Business.”
The dismissive way he said that stung Alida. When he opened the door and gestured her to walk ahead of him she deliberately paused beside him, fixing him with a cool challenging look. “Ivan Poletti is also my very good friend. Loyal, caring and supportive. Try beating that, Gareth.”
Then she swept past him and led the way out, waving a farewell salute to a smug-looking Jill and her highly interested receptionist. Gareth caught up with her at the lift. He said not a word until they were in the small compartment, heading down to the ground floor.
“I can give you what he can’t,” he said to her.
She met his eyes. “You overrate that, Gareth,” she said dismissively.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You only live once, Alida.”
The lift doors opened onto the foyer of the office building. Gareth took her arm to steer her to wherever they were going. His closeness, the warmth of his hand, the words he had spoken…all clouded her mind, tantalising her with the idea of succumbing to the needs he aroused. It would be so easy to give in and take what satisfaction she could from being with him, however temporarily.
But she was playing for higher stakes here. She had to
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