Outback bride - Hart Jessica - Страница 6
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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.’
‘I don’t want to be a housekeeper,’ she said, ‘but I do want to stay at Birraminda. And if it means spending a few days working as hard as I did this afternoon, then I’m prepared to do that.’
‘And in return I have to agree to let you and your father set up this mad scheme of yours?’ Mal set his beer on the floor and shook his head. ‘I can’t deny I need a housekeeper, but I don’t want one badly enough to commit Birraminda to an enterprise that could involve us in a lot of disruption and hassle. Even if it’s a wild success, the financial return isn’t likely to be enough to make it worth our while.’
Copper took a steadying breath. This was not the time to prove to Mal that he had quite the wrong idea about the project. ‘I’m not asking you to agree,’ she said. ‘At least, not yet. All I’m asking is for you to put aside some time to just listen to our proposals before I leave. I’m sure that if I showed you our plans I’d be able to convince you that they could be good for you as well as for us, but I’d rather wait until you can give them your full attention. In the meantime, I’ll keep house for you.’
She glanced at him, wishing that she could read the expression on his face. ‘It’s a good offer,’ she assured him. ‘An hour of your time in return for free housekeeping.’
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