Heir To Danger. Valerie Parv

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Heir To Danger - Valerie  Parv


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      Shara lifted a filmy white top over her head. It settled like a cloud over her shoulders, the soft material drifting down to outline her breasts. The cowl neckline revealed the deep cleft between them. In her country, she would never have worn such revealing clothes. Could she overcome years of conditioning and dress as Judy did so naturally? Yes, she decided with a defiant glance in the mirror. For better or worse she was in Australia. She would do as the Australian women did.

      Wanting to earn Tom’s admiration had nothing to do with her decision.

      “Take that outfit with you, it looks great,” Judy urged. “You can have the other stuff, too.”

      “Won’t you need them yourself?”

      Judy glanced at her well-filled closet. “What for?”

      Thinking of Tom, Shara said, “To please the man in your life.”

      “I’d rather dress to please myself. Besides, there’s no one on the horizon at the moment. At least, there was. But he doesn’t seem all that interested.”

      “And you’re—what do you call it?—holding a candle for him?”

      “A torch,” Judy amended. She shook herself like a puppy shedding water. “He’ll either come back or he won’t. Dad’s my priority at the moment.”

      Shara shot her a look of concern. “Your father is ill?”

      “He has a serious heart problem. The only cure is a transplant.”

      Thinking of the run-down state of the buildings, Shara asked, “Forgive me for asking, but is money the problem?”

      “Partly, but throwing yourself on your father’s mercy won’t help, so don’t even think about it. In this country everyone has access to medical care through the public hospital system. And Tom and the boys can come up with whatever Dad needs if he’s treated privately. But they can’t guarantee that Diamond Downs will be here when he recovers.”

      Shara stilled in front of the mirror. “How can land not be here?”

      “Max Horvath owns the property bordering ours. He wants control of our land and he won’t rest until he gets it.”

      “I know the name. Horvath has supplied bloodstock to my father for many years. I understood he is a good man.”

      “Clive Horvath was a good man, one of Dad’s oldest friends. But he died five months ago in a riding accident. His son, Max, is a different kettle of fish.”

      Ignoring the confusing metaphor, Shara said, “He doesn’t have enough land of his own?”

      Judy perched on a corner of the bed and folded her arms. “Oh, he does, but he isn’t interested in raising cattle. Too much like hard work. According to legend, my great grandfather, Jack Logan, found a fortune in diamonds on our property. Max wants the diamonds.”

      Hearing the scorn in Judy’s voice, Shara said, “You don’t think the legend is true?”

      Judy shook her head. “When I was a kid, I did. But the only evidence we have is the journal entry Jack left about a fabulous new diamond mine he was going back to explore. He disappeared before telling anyone where the mine was. The local Aboriginal elders are said to know the location but they won’t go near it.”

      “Why not?”

      “They say the place is haunted by Jack who supposedly died at the site of his discovery. All I know is his body was never found, and the aboriginal people working here clam up if the diamonds are mentioned. Now Max wants them, and it’s my fault.”

      Judy held out a pearl silk top. “Try this on, it’s more your color than mine.”

      Reluctant to spoil Judy’s obvious enjoyment, Shara shimmied out of the white top and into the second one. She stood patiently while Judy gathered the loose folds and knotted them at Shara’s waist, exposing a good inch of midriff. “How can Max’s actions be your fault?” she asked.

      “Max wanted to marry me and I turned him down. He thinks I was poisoned against him by his father. Max can’t see that his attitude is what turns me off.”

      “Not to mention the torch you’re carrying for this other man,” Shara said.

      “Right.” Judy stood up. “You should wear that. It looks better on you than on me. I have too much up front to do it justice.”

      Shara thought Judy was being unnecessarily modest about her appearance, as she said, “I wish I could help you and your family. You’re being too kind.”

      Ignoring Shara’s protests, Judy scooped the white top into a plastic carrier bag, adding a pair of camel moleskins and a sweater. “Don’t worry about us. The boys won’t let Max stand over Dad. We were going to ask Tom to go over and talk with Max this afternoon.”

      Shara shifted uneasily. “Instead, he got held up on my account.”

      Judy grinned. “Max isn’t going anywhere. And when Tom sees how you’re dressed, I don’t think he’ll have too many regrets.”

      Shara’s hands fisted uneasily in the silky fabric. “Perhaps it’s better if I don’t distract him.”

      “Relax, I’m joking. In any case, Tom’s bombproof when it comes to women.”

      A sharp sensation gripped Shara. She wasn’t interested in romance. Her life was already complicated enough without it. Yet the thought that Tom might be involved with another woman had a staggering impact on her.

      She had spent only a few hours in his company. How could she feel anything toward him, far less this stomach-twisting dislike of an unknown woman?

      She masked her reaction with a polite smile. “Is he engaged to be married?”

      “Good grief, no. By bombproof, I meant he doesn’t want a lasting relationship.”

      The relief that washed through Shara was tempered by curiosity. “Why not?”

      “It’s Tom’s story. I’ll let him tell you himself when he’s ready.”

      If he was ready, Shara interpreted. She took a last look at herself in the mirror. She looked almost Australian. Only her dusky complexion and kohl-rimmed eyes hinted at eastern mystique. The combination was startling she saw, and unwillingly pictured Tom’s reaction. Not that she wanted to have an effect on him.

      Even so, his reaction was hardly the one she’d expected. When she and Judy rejoined the men, Tom’s voice trailed off and his eyes went cold as he stood to acknowledge her. “That isn’t going to help,” he stated.

      At least Shara wasn’t alone in feeling puzzled. Des and Judy looked equally baffled. “I think she looks fabulous, don’t you, Dad?” the young woman asked.

      “Like a magazine cover girl,” Des agreed.

      “You may as well serve her up to Prince Jamal on toast,” Tom snapped.

      A chill frosted Shara’s spine. “He can’t have found me already?”

      “Not yet, but he’s staying with a neighbor, Max Horvath,” Tom stated. “Looking like that, you’ll be the talk of the area. Word will get back to him so fast your head will spin.”

      Shara shivered. Her head was already spinning, partly with the awareness of her own foolishness. She had let herself feel safe at Diamond Downs, when nowhere was safe from a man like Jamal. Trying on Judy’s clothes, she had been so carried away anticipating Tom’s reaction, that she had forgotten who and what she was.

      She was a princess on the run, and it was only a matter of time before Jamal found her and forced her to return to Q’aresh as his bride. Her brief taste of freedom would be over before she had brushed the traditional bridal rice and rose petals out of her hair.

      And if Jamal used her to usurp her father’s throne, the consequences for her homeland would


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