Outback Bride
Great way to impress him with her professionalism.
‘Oh,’ she said weakly instead.
She risked another glance at Mal, who was looking thoughtfully down into his tea, dark brows drawn together as if pondering an insuperable problem. Copper could see the lines of strain around his eyes and she wondered how long ago his wife had died. What had she been like, the woman who had shared his life and borne his child? All at once Copper was ashamed of herself for worrying about the past and whether Mal remembered her or not. He had more important things to think about than a girl he had met on a beach seven years ago.
And, really, wasn’t that all it had been? A chance encounter, ships passing in the night? It had felt much more than that at the time, but it was all so long ago and they were different people now. Mal had changed and so had she. All she had to do was forget about that brief, magical interlude and pretend that he was a complete stranger.
Easy.
It didn’t stop her heart lurching when Mal looked up suddenly from his tea and found her watching him, but at least this time she was able to look away. ‘What... what a nice kitchen.’ she said brightly. It was the first thing that came into her head, but when she looked at it, it was a nice kitchen, cool and spacious and beautifully designed, although most of the equipment was hidden beneath a clutter of packets and jars, papers and unwashed dishes.
‘I’m sorry about the mess,’ said Mal, as if he had read her mind. He looked ruefully around him. ‘This is a busy time on the station and everything’s got out of control in the house since Kim left We really need a good housekeeper to sort everything out.’
‘I can see that,’ said Copper with feeling, averting her eyes from the dirty dishes piled high in the sink. She wasn’t obsessively tidy herself, but her business brain deplored the inefficiency.
‘Have you spent any time in the outback before?’ asked Mal abruptly, and Copper set down her mug. She had a feeling that some kind of interview was just beginning.
‘Not really,’ she said cautiously. Her father had warned her that Mal had been unimpressed by the idea of a city firm setting up luxury camping trips, so it would be up to her to convince him that they knew what they were doing. ‘A couple of camping trips in the Flinders Ranges, that’s all.’
Mal sighed. ‘In other words, you don’t have any relevant experience?’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ said Copper rather coldly. There was no need for him to write her off just yet! She had been organising tours for more than five years and it wasn’t as if she was going to be leading the groups herself. Her role was strictly administrative. ‘I don’t need to be Crocodile Dundee, do I?’ she added with a challenging look. ‘I’ve got more than enough experience to do my job, and it’s not as if I’m going to be roping bulls or doing any of that kind of stuff myself!’
‘True,’ said Mal. ‘But you do need to have some understanding of what we do, or you’ll just get in the way.’
‘I realise that,’ she said a little stiffly. ‘It’s one of the reasons I’m here, after all. I want to learn as much as I can about how things work out here.’
There was a flicker of surprise in Mal’s eyes. ‘You may find it pretty boring,’ he warned.
‘I’m never bored,’ said Copper firmly.
It wasn’t strictly true. She was a believer in living life to the full, and crammed as much as possible into every day, but on the few occasions when she found herself with nothing to do, her zest quickly degenerated into restlessness and she would end up inventing jobs for herself.
‘I hope you’re right,’ said Mal, but not as if he believed it very much.
‘I am.’ Copper decided it was time to start steering the conversation towards business. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing as much of Birraminda as I can,’ she said, rather pleased with her brisk tone. Now that she had got over the initial shock, it was easy to treat him as a stranger—a colleague, perhaps, or just someone to do business with.
‘I’ll see what we can do,’ he said, but he was looking at her so strangely that Copper rubbed a surreptitious finger under her eyes in case her mascara had smudged. ‘Anyway,’ he went on, ‘you’re here now, so we’ll just have to make the best of it. If you’re prepared to put up with the state of things, then I’m sure we can work something out.’
It didn’t sound that encouraging, but at least he hadn’t refused to have anything to do with her, and Copper refused to be disheartened. ‘That’s fine by me,’ she said heartily.
Mal stared at her for a moment, his expression quite impenetrable, and then all at once he seemed to relax. ‘Good,’ he said, and then, just when she was least expecting it, he smiled and Copper’s heart flipped over.
It was only a smile, she told herself desperately, trying not to notice how the creases deepened at the corners of his mouth and eyes, how the cool, watchful look dissolved into warmth and devastating charm, how white his teeth were against his tan. Trying not to notice the way his smile reverberated the length of her spine and tingled down to her toes.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been very welcoming,’ he was saying. ‘We’ve had so many girls who come for a few weeks and then rush home because they can’t cope with the life out here that I’ve got too cynical, but if you really do want to get to know Birraminda, and aren’t afraid of hard work, then we’re glad to have you.’ He looked across at Copper and something stirred in the depths of his eyes. ‘Very glad,’ he amended softly, and held out his hand.
Copper wasn’t listening. She was still concentrating on breathing, in and out, very carefully. This was business, remember? she castigated herself. She would never convince Mal that she was a professional if she went to pieces every time he smiled. It was only two lips curving, a mere twitch of the facial muscles; it was absolutely stupid to let it affect her like this, especially when she had just decided to put her memories of Mal in a mental locker firmly marked ‘Forgotten’. She was being worse than stupid; she was being pathetic.
Her gaze focused suddenly on Mal, who was watching her, one eyebrow lifted in faint surprise at her expression, and her heart sank as her eyes dropped belatedly to the hand stretched out to her across the table. She could hardly ignore it. Now she would have to cope with touching him as well! That was all she needed!
Bracing herself, Copper seized his hand before she had a chance to lose her nerve. This is a business contact, she chanted inwardly through gritted teeth. Business, business, business.
Mal’s long brown fingers closed around hers in a firm clasp, and in spite of all her efforts to resist Copper felt her senses magically sharpen. It was a sort of magic, she thought incoherently. How else could she be so excruciatingly aware of everything? She could feel each line on his palm, each crease in his fingers, and his face was lit with a new clarity so that she could see every tiny detail: the thickness of his lashes, the way his hair grew, the faint scar just above his jaw. Copper could remember tracing its line with her fingers, could remember Mal telling her how it had happened, could remember exactly how it had felt to touch her lips to the warm, male-rough skin and tickle the pale line with her tongue...
CHAPTER TWO
‘AHA! Holding hands already!’
So much for her senses being heightened! Copper hadn’t even heard the clatter of boots on the verandah steps, and when the kitchen door burst open she jerked her hand out of Mal’s as if she had been caught in the most passionate of clinches, her cheeks burning.
One of the most handsome men she had ever seen stood in the doorway. He was as tall as Mal, but much fairer, with sun-streaked hair, merry blue eyes and an air of almost tangible charm. Laughing, he tossed Megan up in his arms.
‘You see what happens when you leave your father alone with a pretty girl!’
‘Brett!’ An expression of weary resignation and something else Copper couldn’t quite identify swept across Mal’s face. ‘Have you finished those cattle?’
‘The boys can finish them,’ said Brett carelessly, apparently oblivious to Mal’s frown. ‘When Megan told me Dad had got a beautiful girl all to himself, I had to come and see for myself.’ The dancing blue eyes studied Copper approvingly as he let his niece down, and his gaiety was so infectious that she found herself smiling back at him.
‘This is my brother, Brett,’ said Mal. His face was wiped of all expression, but there was a rigid set to his jaw and a muscle jumped in his cheek. ‘Brett, this is Copper—’ He stopped, obviously trying to remember her surname.
‘Copley,’ she said helpfully. ‘I know it sounds silly, but there was another Caroline at school so I used to get called by my surname. Somehow Copley became Copper, and then I was stuck with it. Nobody calls me Caroline now, except my family, and I think some of my friends don’t even realise that Copper’s not my real name.’
‘Sounds like Mal,’ said Brett, ignoring Mal’s warning look and pulling out the chair next to Copper’s. ‘He was lumbered with three names—Matthew Anthony Langland Standish—so we always shortened it to Mal when we were kids, and now only business people call him Matthew.’
‘Perhaps I’d better call you Matthew, then,’ said Copper, turning to Mal. It seemed like a good opportunity to establish the appropriate relations.
Mal frowned slightly. ‘I hardly think that’s necessary,’ he said. ‘If you’re going to be living here as a member of the family, there’s no need to be formal.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Brett agreed, running a lazily appreciative eye over Copper as he shook her hand with mock solemnity. ‘We’re going to use your nickname, so we can all be informal together. Copper suits you,’ he added, reaching out a hand to touch her hair. ‘Beautiful name...it sounds warm and burnished, like your hair.’
Copper’s lips twitched. He was obviously a terrible flirt. She glanced at Mal from under her lashes. He was watching them with a dour expression, looking dark and stern in contrast to Brett’s golden, laughing presence. It was odd that the less handsome brother should be so much more intriguing. Brett was easily the better-looking, but he lacked Mal’s air of quiet, coiled strength, and when he touched her hand she felt no jolt of awareness, no tingling of the nerves, no clutch at the heart as she did just looking at Mal.
She could sense his displeasure coming in waves across the table, and it was enough to make her smile charmingly back at Brett. After all, what did she care what he thought of her? Hadn’t she already decided that he meant no more than any other stranger? ‘Don’t tell me!’ she said. ‘Next you’ll be saying that all I need is a good rub to make me all bright and shiny!’
Brett laughed. ‘I think you’re quite bright and shiny enough already,’ he said.
Mal’s mouth was turned down at the corner. ‘I think you should go back and keep an eye on the jackaroos,’ he said pointedly to his brother.
‘They’ll be fine.’ Brett waved a dismissive hand. ‘It’s more important for me to be here to welcome the new housekeeper.’
‘Oh?’ said Copper, not sorry to divert Mal’s attention in spite of her bravado. ‘Are you expecting someone else today?’
There was a short silence. Mal and Brett both looked at her. ‘Just you,’ said Mal, but there was an ominous note in his voice.
Copper glanced from one to the other, sensing that something was wrong. ‘When’s the new housekeeper coming, then?’
‘What new housekeeper?’ said Brett in surprise. ‘You’re the new housekeeper!’
She goggled at him. ‘Me?’
Mal’s brows had snapped together. ‘Do you mean to tell us that you’re not here to replace Kim?’
‘Of course not!’ said Copper indignantly. ‘Do I look like a housekeeper?’
‘Why do you think I was surprised to see you in a suit?’ he retorted with a trace of weariness, and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘The agency in Brisbane said they were sending a new girl out from there nearly a week ago, so I just assumed that’s who you were.’
‘Well, that explains why you thought I should have come on the bus, anyway,’ she said.
‘It doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, though, does it?’ There was a slight edge to Mal’s words and Copper found herself sitting up straighter.
‘I thought you’d had my father’s letter,’ she said, not very clearly.
A hint of impatience was beginning to crack Mal’s imperturbable mask. ‘What letter?’
‘The letter he wrote you a couple of weeks ago, telling you that he’d had a heart attack and that I’d be coming up in his place.’ Copper looked at him expectantly, but Mal was obviously none the wiser and only holding onto his temper with difficulty. ‘Dan Copley? Copley Travel?’ she hurried on, hoping to jog his memory. He might not remember what had happened seven years ago, but surely he could manage a matter of weeks? ‘He was here two or three months ago. He came to talk to you about the possibility of using Birraminda as a site for the new tours we’re planning.’
Recognition dawned at last in Mal’s eyes. ‘Oh, yes, I remember,’ he said. ‘But what’s that got to do with you turning up here?’
‘I’ve come to negotiate a deal with you, of course,’ said Copper, surprised.
‘Deal?’ Mal brought his hand down flat on the table and leant forward. ‘What deal?’ he asked. He didn’t raise his voice but something in his expression made her lean warily back into her chair. ‘I never agreed to any deal!’
‘I know.’ Copper stiffened her spine. She had dealt with worse people than Mal Standish. ‘But you did agree to let Dad come back when he had a viable financial plan. You said you’d be prepared to discuss terms if he could convince you then that the project would work.’
Rather to her relief, he sat back and the dangerous look faded from his face. ‘I might have said that,’ he admitted. ‘But I can’t say I ever thought he would put a plan together. The whole idea seemed mad to me!’
‘It’s not a mad idea,’ said Copper coldly. ‘It’s an extremely good idea. Lots of people would like to experience the outback in style. They don’t want to sit on buses or stay in hotels, but they don’t necessarily want to crawl around in a tiny tent either. We’re going to offer permanent safari tents with camp beds and a bathroom, as well as fine cooking and specialist leaders for the different groups—expert artists, ornithologists, people like that,’ she finished, with an airy wave of the hand.
‘It sounds good to me,’ enthused Brett. ‘Especially if they’re prepared to pay pots of money for the privilege of getting squawked at by treefuls of cockatoos!’
‘Well, money is certainly something we’d have to discuss,’ said Copper carefully.
‘Right now we’re not going to discuss anything,’ said Mal with an air of flat finality. ‘I’m sorry that your father’s been ill, but, frankly, you couldn’t have picked a worse time. If I’d realised you were coming, I could have told you not to bother.’
‘But my father wrote to you,’ she protested. ‘That’s why I thought you were expecting me. You must have had the letter!’
‘I may have.’ He shrugged his indifference. ‘There’s been so much to do here recently, and things have been so chaotic since Kim left that any paperwork that’s not absolutely urgent has just had to wait’
Copper eyed him with growing resentment. It might not have been urgent to him, but if he’d bothered to read the letter he could have saved her a three-day drive from Adelaide!
‘I’m here now,’ she pointed out ‘Couldn’t you at least listen to our proposals?’
‘No,’ said Mal flatly. ‘I’ve got too many other things on my mind at the moment, especially since you’re not anything useful like a housekeeper. I need one of those more than I need a crackpot scheme that sounds like nothing but trouble from start to finish. I’ve got no one to look after the house, I’ve got no one to look after my daughter and I’ve got no rain.’ Picking up his hat, he got to his feet. ‘What I have got is eighty thousand head of cattle, and a thousand of them are out there in the holding yards right now, so you’ll have to excuse us.’ He jerked his head towards the door. ‘That “us” includes you, Brett. We’ve still got work to do.’
Settling his hat on his head, Mal looked down at Copper. Her chin was set at a stubborn angle and the green eyes were mutinous. She was still seething over the way he had dismissed their cherished project. Her father had invested everything in the success of these tours. The whole future of Copley Travel was at stake and all Mal could say was that it sounded a crackpot scheme!
‘You can stay tonight, of course,’ he said to her. ‘But I can tell you now that we won’t be doing any discussing.’
Behind Mal’s back, Brett gave Copper a sympathetic grin. ‘I’m sure we’ll be able to find something else to do,’ he said meaningfully, and winked at her.
Mal’s mouth tightened. ‘Come on, Brett,’ he snapped. ‘We’ve wasted enough time today as it is.’
Charming! Copper glared after them. All those years of dreaming about Mal and what it would be like to meet him again, and all she turned out to be was a waste of his time!
In a way she was glad that he had been so objectionable. It made it much easier to ignore the way her heart had leapt at the sight of him, the treacherous way her body had responded to one brief smile. Now she really could put the past behind her.
Copper’s eyes narrowed as she remembered how Mal had refused even to listen to her proposals. She had driven a file full of proposals all the way from Adelaide, and if he thought she was going to meekly turn around and go home tomorrow, he was very much mistaken!
Worry over the future of Copley Travel had almost killed her father, and the prospect of restoring their fortunes by investing in a project that would appeal to the quality end of the market was all that was keeping him going. The company had been Dan Copley’s life, and the luxury outback tours a long-held dream. While he had been in hospital, Copper had taken over the project, working all hours of the day and night to get to the stage where they could confidently approach Matthew Standish again. And Mal had refused to listen just because he didn’t have anyone to wash up for him!
Well, he would soon learn that Copper had no intention of taking no for an answer! If politely asking wouldn’t make Mal listen, then she would have to find some other way of convincing him that she meant business!
When Mal came back, much later, Copper was sitting on the verandah outside the kitchen door, looking out over the creek. Megan sat beside her in a clean nightie, chattering about life on the station. Her face sparkled and her dusky curls had been brushed until they shone. ‘There’s Dad!’ she interrupted herself suddenly, pointing, and Copper’s heart promptly jumped to her throat, where it lodged, fluttering wildly in spite of all her stern attempts to subdue it.
Grateful for the fading light, she watched Mal walking towards them through the dusk. There was a lithe, unconscious grace about the way he moved, an ease and assurance in his stride that stirred something in the pit of Copper’s stomach. Megan was dancing barefoot at the top of the steps.
‘Dad, Dad, we’ve got a surprise for you!’
Copper forced herself not to notice as Mal smiled down at his daughter and lifted her up into his arms.
‘You’ve had a bath,’ he said as Megan hugged her arms around his neck.
‘Copper bathed me, and she sang a funny song.’
‘Did she now?’ Shifting Megan onto his hip, Mal looked over to where Copper sat in a low wicker chair. She had showered and changed into a sleeveless white shirt and narrow trousers. Her shiny brown hair was still wet, and her tilted lashes clung damply together, but she hoped she looked cool and comfortable and suitably dressed at last.
Tilting her chin in unconscious challenge, she looked back at him. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Of course not.’ There was an odd note in his voice, but before Copper could speculate as to what it might mean Megan was wriggling to be let down.
‘Can I show you the surprise now?’
‘I thought the surprise was you being bathed and ready for bed?’ he teased, but Megan shook her head solemnly.
‘No, this is a proper surprise.’
Mal lifted his brows in silent enquiry at Copper, but she just smiled blandly. She was saving the real surprise until later.
Megan dragged her father into the kitchen. Through the screen, Copper could hear the counterpoint between the two voices, one high and excited, the other calm and deep, and she smiled to herself as she listened, content for once to sit quietly and watch the sunset. It had been a long day and tiredness was buzzing along her bones.
It was some time before Mal reappeared, carrying two bottles of beer. He handed one to Copper and the wicker creaked as he sat down on the chair next to hers. The beer was so cold that condensation ran down the outside and Copper had to keep shifting it from hand to hand.
‘Where’s Megan?’ she asked.
‘In bed.’
‘And Brett?’
‘Having a shower.’ Mal had showered too. His hair was damp and she could smell the soap on his clean skin as he leant forward, resting his arms on his knees, and turning the beer bottle thoughtfully between his hands.
Copper found herself watching them as if mesmerised. She had loved Mal’s hands. They were strong and brown, with long, deft fingers that had traced slow patterns of fire over her skin. They had curved around her breast and smoothed the long length of her thigh, possessing her with a sureness and a hunger that had left her gasping his name.
Wrenching her eyes away, Copper took a desperate pull of beer and forced the memories back into that box labelled ‘Forgotten’. She was not going to think about his hands or his mouth or anything about him at all. She was going to think business.
It had grown dark while Mal had been inside, and the only light came from the blue lamp that was set below the verandah to attract flying insects. At regular intervals it would fizz and crackle as one got too close and was zapped out of existence. Copper watched it in silence and tried to think how to bring the conversation round to her new proposal.
In the end it was Mal who spoke first. ‘You’ve been busy,’ he said. ‘It must have taken you a long time to clean that kitchen.’
Copper shrugged. ‘Megan helped me.’ In fact, Megan had been more of a hindrance than a help, but she had been so thrilled to be in on the surprise that Copper hadn’t had the heart to discourage her. Together they had tidied the clutter off the table and washed the huge pile of dishes. Then they had swept the floor and wiped the surfaces until everything gleamed. There had been no time to clean the fridge or sort out the cupboards, but Copper felt that the contrast with the earlier mess would be enough to make an impact.
Mal was still turning the bottle slowly between his hands. ‘I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate it,’ he said, ‘but a clean kitchen isn’t enough to make me change my mind.’
‘I’m not asking you to,’ said Copper, and his gaze narrowed as he looked at her.
‘You’re not expecting me to believe that you did all that out of the goodness of your heart? You must want something!’
‘I do,’ she said evenly. ‘I want you to give me a job.’
Mal’s fingers stilled abruptly and he sat up in surprise. ‘What kind of job?’
‘You need a housekeeper, don’t you? I’m suggesting that you let me take over until this girl from the agency turns up.’
Copper was pleased with how cool and business-like she sounded, but Mal didn’t seem particularly impressed. ‘What do you know about being a housekeeper?’ he asked suspiciously.
He could have sounded a bit more grateful! ‘What is there to know?’ said Copper. ‘You don’t need any qualifications to clean a house—or do you only take girls with higher degrees in vacuuming and washing dishes?’
Mal ignored her sarcasm. ‘Perhaps I should have asked why you suddenly want to be a housekeeper,’ he said. ‘You looked pretty offended at being mistaken for one earlier on.’