When Only Diamonds Will Do

‘Oh, no, but I have time off at the moment. I did some overtime in the boarding house.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Where shall we meet?’

‘Would you mind driving down to Busselton?’

‘No-o,’ Kim said slowly.

He swung her hand. ‘I have a very early appointment down there—it would save me driving back. We can go on in one car.’

‘Sure,’ she said easily.

He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Kim swallowed as a tremor of pure physical attraction towards this tall, dark, rugged stranger ran through her. But he didn’t feel like a stranger any more, although she didn’t know much more about him than she’d known earlier in the day.

Well, she knew he preferred steak to lobster, beer to champagne, that his hands were clean and scrubbed but scarred and callused as if he’d done plenty of physical work at some time or another. Yet he sounded educated and well-read.

He released her hand as they reached her car. ‘Try not to lure any more men to their doom against large, immovable objects, Miss Theron,’ he advised as she unlocked the driver’s door.

She laughed, ‘I won’t!’

‘Oh, and this.’ He took her purse from her and tucked her hundred-dollar note into it.

‘But—’

‘I’d like to pay for the flowers, that’s all. Goodnight.’

‘You know—’ Kim stared up at him ‘—I’ve got the feeling you’re quite addicted to getting your own way.’

‘I have been accused of that, yes,’ he agreed gravely. ‘It’s nonsense, of course.’ He paused. ‘On the other hand, we could be two of a kind.’

‘Do you think so?’ Kim asked wryly. ‘That could make for some uncomfortable times between us, assuming we last any kind of distance. Goodnight.’

His lips twitched. ‘It could. Yes, it could. Goodnight.’

Kim drove home in a thoughtful mood.

The moon was silvering the familiar landscape, so it wasn’t familiar any more but an exotic surround with secretive dark patches.

Of course, she knew it off by heart but, thinking of how secretive and unknown in the moonlight it looked now, her thoughts took off down another path. Was she entering an unknown period of her life?

How could she be as affected as she was by a man she’d only just met? There was no doubt he sent shivers down her spine—shivers of pleasure. One light kiss on her knuckles had not only raised goose bumps for her but it had caused her to warm to him as if they could be friends who cared for each other.

Or was that being extremely fanciful? she asked herself as she swung into the driveway of the estate called Saldanha, the place she had always called home.

Set against the background of the Darling Range foothills, Saldanha was special. The Harvey and Margaret River districts south of Perth in Western Australia were beautiful and diverse, with their white beaches, jarrah forests, sleek cattle and the sheer fertility that produced glorious gardens. And adjacent to Saldanha was the Balthazar Winery, also owned by her parents—the other, and probably most famous, export of the area that grew premium grapes was wine.

Both Saldanha and Balthazar—a Balthazar was a twelve-litre wine bottle—were the names brought by the Theron family, of Huguenot descent, from South Africa to the similar conditions and climate around Perth. The Theron family had also brought their viticulture skills and the Balthazar Winery had flourished. At the same time Saldanha, named after a sheltered bay north of Cape Town, had flourished and the Cape Dutch–style architecture of the house, white gables and a thatched roof, had become distinctive in the district.

So had the classic dry white that Balthazar was famous for as well as its Cellar Door, run on the estate and visited by wine-lovers from all over the world.

It was none of this Kim Theron was thinking of as she parked her car, greeted her dog, a devoted blue heeler that went by the name of Sunny Bob, and let herself into the darkened house.

Her parents were out and her brother no longer lived at home, although he kept his horses there, and the housekeeper had taken the opportunity to visit family.

But, as she switched on some lamps and kicked off her shoes, Kim’s thoughts were still firmly centred on Reith Richardson.

Was it unusual to suggest they go surfing? she wondered. Perhaps, but a great idea nonetheless.

She paused at the foot of the stairs as she tried to analyse her emotions. She was intrigued, without a doubt. But, of course, as the saying went: look before you leap …

She had no idea, as she stood with her hand on the banister, how that phrase was going to come back to haunt her.

Margaret River was beautiful.

The peaceful river gave its name to a district that stretched between two capes—Cape Naturaliste and Cape Leeuwin—and ran inland as well. The town of Margaret River was not the only one in the area; there were quite a few, from Busselton to Yallingup and Cowaramup and more. There were some magnificent kauri forests as well as some fascinating limestone caves. The whole district was renowned not only for its wine but also its cuisine.

It was straight to the beach that Reith Richardson steered his four-wheel vehicle, though, after he’d collected Kim from their appointed meeting place in Busselton, along with her surfboard—and her dog.

‘Hope you don’t mind,’ Kim said as she introduced them. ‘Reith, this is Sunny Bob, and this, Sunny Bob,’ she said to the blue heeler sitting politely at her feet, ‘is Reith. He’s a friend.’

‘How do you do,’ Reith said gravely but with his lips twitching as he patted the dog. ‘Is he for protection—or what?’

‘Oh, no!’ Kim denied. ‘Well, if the need ever arose—’ She gestured and shrugged. ‘But no, he loves the sea and he loves going out with me.’

Reith studied her for a moment. She wore colourful knee-length board shorts and a shocking pink bikini top under a string vest. Her hair was tied back and her beautiful designer sunglasses alone would have cost a small fortune.

‘You look the part,’ he commented as he transferred her board across, then looked at what was left in her boot. ‘What’s all this?’

‘I thought as much,’ Kim replied with a mischievous grin. ‘You’re a typical iron-man surfer with no thought of creature comforts. You can put it all in your car,’ she directed.

‘But—’

‘There’s only a sun umbrella, a couple of folding chairs and a cooler with food and beverages. What’s wrong with that?’ she asked, with her hands planted on her hips.

He grimaced, then grinned. ‘Nothing, I guess. I was going to drive us somewhere for lunch.’

‘Perish the thought,’ she said and looked around. ‘On a perfect day like this, who wants to leave the beach?’

Several hours later, Reith, with a beer in one hand and a chicken drumstick in the other, said, ‘You’re a genius. How did you know cold roast chicken, beer—or, in your case, wine—go down perfectly after a surf?’

Kim giggled. ‘Anyone knows that.’ She lay back in her folding chair and sipped her wine. Sunny Bob lay contentedly beside her, having had an energetic few hours chasing waves whilst Kim and Reith had had a magnificent surf. He had his own bowl of cool fresh water.

She’d wrapped a pink sarong around her before she’d set out lunch. The sun was just starting to slide down from its zenith and there were a few wispy clouds trailing across the sky. The tide was out now so the roar of the surf was muted but you could still taste the salt in the air and feel the prickle of it on your skin. And it was hot and still, apart from some cicadas in the bush behind the beach.

‘Why did you suggest this?’ Kim’s question seemed to pop out of nowhere.

‘Why not?’

She hesitated. ‘It just seems unusual for a businessman—look, I’m not complaining,’ she said with a grin, ‘but think barristers, stockbrokers, CEOs, medical men and you tend to spend a lot of time going out to dinner or cocktail parties or nightclubs or the theatre. Occasionally you may get a day out on a yacht or a day at the races but they’re often too busy making money even to do that.’

‘I spend a lot of time working behind a desk these days. Whereas I used to—’ He paused.

‘Go on. Used to—?’ she prompted.

‘Work on cattle stations, then I was a miner.’

‘I wondered about that.’

He looked at her. ‘Is it so obvious?’

‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘It was your hands.’

He looked at his hands and grimaced. ‘Anyway, I love the sea—most people who don’t get to see it until their teens do—and it’s good exercise.’

‘So you grew up inland?’

‘Yep.’ He stared out over the ocean and for a moment there was an intensity to his dark gaze that made her frown and believe that he did love it. ‘And beyond the black stump, speaking metaphorically,’ he added.

Kim smiled. ‘Are you married?’

He stirred. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘All the best ones are, according to Penny.’ She pushed herself up against the back of her chair, bent her knees and smoothed her sarong over them. ‘What kind of answer is that—are you or aren’t you?’

‘I’m not. I once was but she passed away.’

Kim sat up, looking appalled. ‘You mean she died? What from?’

He nodded. ‘A rare complication in childbirth.’

‘Is…Did the baby survive?’

‘Yes. His name’s Darcy and he’s ten now.’

Kim lay back. ‘I’m sorry—very sorry.’

‘Thanks,’ he said briefly, then smiled slightly. ‘What will Penny make of that?’

Kim shrugged. ‘Put you in a special category, I guess.’

‘How did I come up, anyway?’

Kim looked a touch embarrassed. ‘I went to see her this morning before I drove down to Busselton. Naturally, I told her why I was dressed for the beach,’ she said.

‘Naturally.’

‘Oh, look—’ Kim closed her eyes ‘—ever since Penny got married she’s been trying to sell me the state of matrimony as if it’s the only state of bliss on the planet. Mind you, that doesn’t stop her from warning me of the folly of falling for married men.’

‘I think I get the drift,’ he replied seriously.

Kim tossed him an annoyed little glance. ‘Somehow you’ve made me feel about twelve,’ she said crossly. Then her lips twitched. ‘Penny and I have known each other since we were six so we’re pretty close. And I suppose pretty girlish at times. But it’s not girlish to want to know…Look, it doesn’t matter.’ She got up suddenly, stripped off her sarong and ran out from beneath the shade of the umbrella and across the hot sand to where the tide was tracing silvery crescents of foam on the damp sand.

And, barking joyfully, Sunny Bob streaked along beside her. The last to join her as she splashed in the shallows was Reith Richardson.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘I would actually like to meet your Penny.’

‘Why?’ Kim stood still and stared at him.

‘If it hadn’t been for her I wouldn’t have met you. Besides, maybe I could put her mind at rest.’

She eyed him but if he was laughing at her, he was hiding it well. There was no hiding, however, the streamlined strength of his body. He was lightly tanned and beautifully proportioned and she had to turn away suddenly as her breath caught in her throat at the thought of being in his arms.

She felt his hand on her and she looked over her shoulder and up at him.

It was a long, sober look they exchanged but it sent tremors of excitement and danger coursing through Kim’s body because, in no uncertain terms, it told her that this man wanted her. She could see it in the way his gaze lingered on her breasts, her slim bare waist, her legs. Then he looked back into her eyes.

She licked her lips and curled her hands into fists because she desperately wanted to touch and be touched intimately, but Sunny Bob chose that moment to break the ‘moment’. He raced up and threaded his way between them, and stayed there.

‘Saved by the bell,’ Reith murmured as he removed his hand.

Her eyes widened. ‘Sunny Bob?’

‘I get the feeling I’m on notice. Behave or else.’

Kim had to smile. ‘Well—obviously,’ she hastened to assure him, ‘I wouldn’t allow him to attack you.’

‘Thank you,’ he said formally, ‘but having narrowly escaped death on the road because of you, I don’t think I’ll take any more risks. Do you dance?’

She turned round with a frown. ‘Of course I dance! What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Silly question,’ he murmured. ‘Do you take Sunny Bob out dancing with you?’

‘Of course not,’ Kim denied and had to stifle a chuckle at the mental image this conjured up. ‘Why?’

‘I thought if we went dancing it might be easier to get close to you without there being any misunderstandings with your dog.’

This time Kim didn’t even try to stifle her laughter.

‘It’s not that funny,’ he assured her.

‘What exactly did you have in mind?’

‘Sorry to fall into the category of your typical “businessmen” but I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me and then we could go on to a nightclub.’

‘I am also sorry,’ she said and directed a sparkling blue look up at him, ‘for all the dangerous situations I’ve put you in, Mr Richardson. As for your suggestion, I like the sound of it very much and I will attempt to keep things safe for you.’

He grimaced.

‘But I’ll have to go home to get changed and then drive back into Bunbury—’

‘I’ll send a car for you,’ he said, interrupting her.

Kim looked at him with a faint frown in her eyes as she wondered why he didn’t pick her up himself.

He gestured. ‘I have a heap of stuff to deal with—the penalty for taking a day off.’

‘Well, OK. Thanks.’

‘Seven-thirty suit you?’ He raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Fine, but really, I could drive in.’

‘No.’ He said it lightly but quite definitely.

‘If that isn’t an example of how you like to get your own way, I don’t know what is,’ she commented a little dryly.

‘Not at all,’ he denied. ‘It’s concern for your welfare, that’s all.’

Several expressions chased across Kim’s face, exasperation being foremost. Then her lips twisted and she looked rueful. ‘Hoist by my own petard. All right.’

He laughed.

CHAPTER TWO

THERE was no one home when Kim got back to Saldanha from Margaret River.

There was nothing unusual in this. Her parents travelled frequently as well as socializing often and they were currently in Perth.

Kim taught at a boarding school down the coast at Esperance so she’d moved down there for term time but she spent the school holidays at home.

Fortunately, most of her formal clothes still resided in her bedroom at home and she was able to have a choice of what to wear for dinner and a nightclub with Reith Richardson.

Her bedroom was always a comfort to her. Her mother had given her carte blanche to redecorate it when she left school and she’d created a blue room, saying, ‘If you can have a green room, why not a blue one?’ And it was not only where she stored her clothes and slept, it was where she read, dreamed, played her harp and wondered sometimes what kind of a wife and mother she would be.

She showered and washed her hair while she thought what she would wear, then, decision made, thought back over the day. And she was a little startled to feel a tremor run through her just at the thought of Reith Richardson …

I’m falling, she thought. In love or prey to a massive physical attraction? Strange, he didn’t lay a hand on me today, other than just before…‘You made your intentions clear,’ she said to Sunny Bob, who was lying on the carpet beside her.

The dog lifted his head and thumped his tail, then went back to sleep.

Kim grimaced and pictured what would have happened but for Sunny Bob. She would have revelled in Reith’s arms, she knew. Just the thought of it now made her blush and she picked up her perfume bottle and touched the cool glass to her cheeks.

Whoa, she thought then. Take it slowly, Kim. Don’t let this get out of hand. You need to know a lot more about this man …

She put the bottle down and picked up her brush, turning it slowly over and over in her hand as she thought of some of her actions today. Such as, for example, her precipitous dash from the cool and shade of the umbrella down the beach to the water earlier.

What had prompted that had been embarrassment. Yes, she wanted to know more about him but, in hindsight, asking him if he was married had sounded juvenile, and then intrusive, especially in the light of learning he had lost his wife.

So what was it about him that threw her off her usually even keel? she wondered. That underlying disapproval she’d sensed in him from the start? But why would he disapprove of her? Unless he thought she was completely wacky. But, if so, why would he want to keep on seeing her …?

Perhaps that was part of her enjoyment in his company, however—the light-hearted sparring she, at least, undertook, to challenge his perception of her?

She shook her head and stood up and got dressed. Her choice was a pair of dark grey palazzo pants and a silvery-grey halter top with wide lapels at the front and a low back. She wore no jewellery and no bra. Her shoes were high black sandals, her hair was sleek and smoothed back in a chignon.

Not over-dressed, not under-dressed, just right, she thought as she studied her reflection. The sun and the surf had given her a glow but there was still a frown in her eyes, indicating some inner unease.

She wandered over to her harp and plucked the strings. Romance, she conceded, had been a slightly bumpy road for her until she’d learnt to sort the wheat from the chaff—sort the men who were on the make and drawn by her wealthy parents and background more than by her soul, she thought with a dry little twist of her lips.

And, sadly, there had been more of the ‘on the make’ kind than the other with the result that she was very wary these days and on the lookout for fortune-hunters. Wary, somewhat hardened and definitely cynical. But did Reith Richardson fall into that class?

On the surface, it appeared not. He didn’t seem to be at all interested in her background, but of course they’d only known each other for a short time. Yet there was something—her brow creased—a sort of stamp of authority about him that was impressive. There was also a reserve she sensed.

She sighed and picked up her purse at the sound of a car on the drive. ‘Just—take it very slowly with this man,’ she advised herself and went downstairs to be driven into town.

A few hours later, she stirred in his arms and said in a low husky voice, ‘Do you ever take your own advice?’

He swung her round on the small, darkened, crowded floor with its coloured spotlights above, and they came together again. They’d danced for hours. It was the height of sophistication, the nightclub, on the second floor of a beautifully restored old building in Bunbury, and the music had been sensational.

‘Sometimes.’ He looked down at her rather wryly. ‘How about you?’

‘Not always.’ She laid her head on his shoulder as, rather than dancing, they swayed to the music and, as she’d suspected, she revelled in being in his arms.

In fact, when she’d first laid eyes on him, when she’d walked into the restaurant and he’d stood up in a dark suit, the jacket of which had moulded his broad shoulders, she’d missed a step because he’d been so darkly attractive. From that moment on she’d been physically conscious of him in a way that had taken her by storm because she’d never felt this way before, never had her senses so stirred up by a man.

At the same time as a river of rhythm had flowed through her veins, so had a river of sensuality. His hands on her hips had ignited a swathe of sensation up and down her body. And to rest her body against his, to feel the hard strength of him, the power, had made her feel as light as a feather and giddy with pleasure.

‘Not always, which is very stupid of me. I—’

The music stopped, the band announced they were having a break and some recorded music took over.

Kim didn’t finish what she was saying and sighed as they drew apart, then she led the way back to their table.

‘More champagne?’ he queried.

She shook her head. ‘Just some iced water, thanks.’

‘Not a bad idea,’ he agreed. ‘Why stupid? Now? At this moment in time?’ he queried.

Kim put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her clasped hands. ‘I was going to take things very, very slowly with you, Mr Richardson,’ she said. ‘That was not supposed to include dancing the night away.’ Kim smiled austerely. ‘Do you have the same problem I have?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘The disinclination to keep my hands off you?’

‘Something like that,’ she said ruefully and thanked the waiter who brought them two glasses of iced water with slices of lemon. ‘But perhaps we should—’ She paused.

‘We should look before we leap?’ he suggested with some irony.

Kim narrowed her eyes as she caught the irony and said tartly, despite it being not what she wanted to do at all, ‘My sentiments entirely.’

He put his head on one side and studied her. ‘That annoyed you?’

‘Not at all.’

‘That I should feel we need to stop and think?’ he persisted.

‘Well…no, we should! But—’ she paused ‘—you didn’t sound entirely genuine. More, in fact, as if you were paraphrasing, with sarcasm, what you thought I would say.’

‘It was the awful euphemism I used that offended me,’ he said.

Kim stared at him. ‘Look before we leap?’ she murmured, then her lips curved and she started to laugh.

He put his hand over hers on the table and laughed with her, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

Then he looked at his watch. ‘Your car will be here shortly. I ordered it for midnight.’

Kim removed her hand. ‘That solves that. I can go home feeling like Cinderella.’

He ignored that. ‘Do you have any more time off?’

Kim blinked at the change of subject. ‘Two more days.’

‘Tomorrow, would you like to help me select some classy artwork?’

Her lips parted.

‘You did say you had a good eye for art.’

‘What’s it for?’

‘Some offices—some new offices in Perth. I’m not that keen on what the interior decorators have come up with.’

She thought for a moment then she shrugged. ‘All right. Yes, I’d like to. I have a couple of favourite galleries. You know—’ she looked at him consideringly ‘—you’re clever.’

He looked surprised. ‘Why?’

‘You’ve defused us. There we were, a pretty hot item on the dance floor, but now we’re talking art and I’m about to be shipped off home.’ She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands and narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m just not sure why you’re taking this course but you’re right,’ she said mischievously, ‘you should always look before you leap.’

‘Kim—’ he pushed back his chair and stood up ‘—come with me.’

She raised her eyebrows but shrugged when she got no response and rose to follow him. He led her out of the main room, along a passage and onto a secluded balcony overlooking the street.

There Reith paused and looked up and down the street. Whatever he saw—nothing—must have gained his approval because he turned back to Kim, took her in his arms and kissed her swiftly but at the same time comprehensively.

So comprehensively she clutched him when their lips parted and she could only say his name on a note of stunned amazement as tremors of desire ran through her body.

‘Kim?’

‘You…I…I mean,’ she stammered, ‘why did you do that?’

His dark eyes rested on her lips, then the lovely line of her throat and the curves of her breasts beneath the silvery-grey silk of her halter top.

‘Why?’ he repeated and smiled suddenly, a wicked little smile full of masculine arrogance. ‘I wanted to.’

Kim gasped. ‘That’s…But I thought…You were the one who…hosed us down!’

He shrugged. ‘You were the one who thought she was being shipped home like Cinderella.’