A Bride For The Maverick Millionaire (Journey Through The Outback #2) Read online

  Finn was still wondering how Rachel knew about them.

  ‘I guess we could go there,’ Jason said dubiously, and he radioed Esme to get the all-clear. He then proceeded to enjoy himself, giving his little group a great guided tour and helping Maud as they made their way onshore.

  Jason was a good guide, Finn thought. The crew members on his ships were handpicked for knowledge and people skills. Jason spoke of the ancient peoples of this land with enthusiasm, and Finn thought this enthusiasm was what the cruise needed.

  It had it. Why wasn’t it working?

  Why had Esme been distracted this morning? She’d been working by rote, not noticing Maud was unsteady when she’d let her go.

  And why had they needed to land on rocks? The plan was to land the passengers on the soft sandy beach, which was much safer.

  They’d had to change their plans because they’d missed the tide. Engine trouble. Again.

  Delays were an increasing part of this tour’s problem. There’d been too many instances of delays, where passengers couldn’t walk on promised reefs because the ship missed the tide; where beaches became inaccessible.

  He’d had the ship checked over and over, but the ongoing problems were all small and niggling. A fuel blockage. An electronic malfunction that needed checking in case it signalled something more serious. Little things that he couldn’t put his finger on that, combined, were messing with passenger enjoyment and thus his profit.

  That was why he was here. It was what he should be thinking about this morning—but instead he was walking beside a gorgeous young woman in one of the most beautiful places on the earth and he thought he’d worry about business this afternoon.

  Rachel was walking with a slight limp, but she wouldn’t let him help her. ‘It’s time I started standing on my own two feet,’ she retorted, but she’d smiled as he’d offered to help and her smile was lovely.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m finally seeing this,’ she breathed as they reached the far side of the beach and started the slow climb up the cliff face. Maud was unashamedly holding Jason’s hand, chattering happily as they clambered, and Finn and Rachel were left to themselves.

  I wouldn’t mind if Rachel did need help, Finn thought. Holding this woman’s hand would be no hardship.

  Why was he so attracted?

  Maud did indeed wear lipstick, but Rachel wore no make-up at all. She was in jeans she’d cut off to make frayed shorts, a baggy man’s shirt, sensible walking sandals and a battered Akubra over her curls.

  She looked almost a waif.

  Small and vulnerable. Maybe that was what attracted him, he thought, but it was also sending out warning signals. This was the kind of woman his father preyed on. His mother had fitted the mould. His grandmother had also been little and cute in her time—and dependent and emotional and hysterical.

  He wasn’t going there. Ever.

  ‘How did you know about these paintings?’ he asked, trying hard not to offer to help again as she struggled over a patch of loose shale.

  ‘I’ve known about this region all my life,’ she told him. ‘I’ve read everything there is to read. I’ve dreamed of visiting it for ever.’

  ‘But this is your first visit?’

  ‘Yes. Thanks to Maud, I’ve finally been able to come. But I’ve visited it so often in books I feel I know it already. Did you know fossils are extremely rare through the Kimberley Neoproterozoic? This place is so ancient we know only fragments about it, and the land holds and keeps its treasures. Like this artwork. Bird nest remnants over the top date the art to over seventeen thousand years old, yet here it is, not in some air-conditioned gallery but untouched, where it’s lain for so long...’ She broke off then, and a slight flush tinged her cheeks. ‘Whoops. Sorry. My sister would say, “Here she goes again”. I’m a bit...obsessed.’

  ‘With rocks and art?’

  ‘I’m a geologist. Rocks are what I love.’

  But she’d loved more than rocks, he thought as he watched her struggle up the cliff. She’d lost a baby. Somewhere there must be a man.

  Maud hadn’t said she’d lost a partner.

  She was Maud’s friend. She had a sister.

  He wanted to know more.

  No. Little and pretty—and a passenger. He could not be interested. He was on the Kimberley Temptress for two more weeks. Close confines. He knew exactly what happened when people were stuck together in fantasy land. His father had taught him that, far too well.

  It had been easy to sign up for this cruise as Finn Kinnard—because he was Finn Kinnard. His father was Charles J Sunderson, owner of the Sunderson Shipping Line. His mother was Mary Kinnard, little, pretty and vulnerable, and their attachment had lasted less than a week. Theirs had been a shipboard romance, resulting in an unwanted child.

  He wasn’t going there in a million years.

  ‘I’m sorry I bored you,’ Rachel said and he realised he’d been quiet for too long.

  ‘You’re not boring me. Tell me about the rocks.’

  She raised her brows. ‘Really?’

  ‘Cross my heart, serious,’ he told her. ‘All my life I’ve been waiting to hear about these rocks.’

  And, amazingly, she grinned back.

  ‘Okay,’ she told him. ‘If we’re seriously talking rocks...I believe this place is made from proterozoic sediments, dumped on an Archaean craton. The craton’s surrounded by a paleao protezoic belt, which includes mafic and felsic intrusions and, of course, mignatites and granulites.’

  ‘Of course,’ he agreed faintly, and her smile widened.

  ‘You can see that, too? Excellent. But, of course, you’ll also be noticing the huge amount of deformation that’s happened during emplacement. That process is complex, but I’m more than happy to tell you about it.’

  ‘If I ask you out to dinner some time, will you give me the full rundown?’ he asked, even more faintly.

  She chuckled. ‘I’m sure to.’

  ‘Then that’s one dinner date that’s never going to happen.’ He watched her chuckle, and suddenly there was no tension between them at all.

  Her chuckle was wonderful, and it should have him thinking of her as every inch a woman—and of course it did—but right there, in that moment, overriding everything, this woman seemed a friend.

  Which was a weird thing to think, Finn decided, as she started battling her way up the scree again. How had it happened, this sudden connection? This thought that here was someone he could relax with?

  He didn’t have to think of her as small and vulnerable. The stereotype was shattered. This wasn’t a potential shipboard romance. This was a shipboard friend.

  A gorgeous friend.

  A friend with a gammy hip and a lost baby in her history.

  More, there was something about the relief in her voice as she’d laughed over the lost dinner date that said she was even more wary of complications than he was.

  Friend would do nicely.

  ‘So why are you cruising on your own?’ she asked over her shoulder.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s expensive, for one thing,’ she retorted. ‘Not sharing a cabin...’

  ‘I can afford it.’

  ‘Can you? I can’t. I’m here because Dame Maud’s grandson fell in love with my sister, and wanted to stay with her rather than cruise with his grandmother.’

  ‘Fickle,’ he said, mock disapproving.

  ‘Isn’t it just,’ she said, and he heard the chuckle return to her voice. ‘Men are like that.’

  But, behind the words...he heard something in her voice that wasn’t a chuckle.

  ‘Not all men,’ he said, keeping it even, and she paused and glanced back at him.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Hugo’s not fickle. He and Amy will be very happy.’

&
nbsp; He could definitely hear pain, he thought. Did he want to ask?

  No. Don’t probe. This was none of his business.

  Jason and Maud were moving further ahead. Maud still had hold of Jason’s hand and was asking question after question. Finn and Rachel were left in their own beautiful world.

  They were now high above the Timor Sea. The massive cliffs of the mainland towered above them, and hundreds of tiny islands dotted the seas beyond. This place seemed as wild and untouched as anywhere on earth. With Jason and Maud disappearing round a rock face, there was nothing in sight except rocks and sea and the tough wild plants that fought for survival. The sun was on their faces and Finn paused and thought that this was a place to get things in perspective. To get things right.

  Rachel had paused as well and was gazing round her with awe.

  ‘The people who painted here seventeen thousand years ago,’ she whispered. ‘This is where they stood. What an absolute privilege to be here.’

  He didn’t reply. There was no need. They simply stood and soaked in the sun and the place and the moment.

  The silence stretched on, each of them deeply content, but at the back of Finn’s mind was a keen awareness of the woman beside him. How many women would stand like this, he wondered, in such silence? How many women that he knew?

  Such a person must have learned the blessing of peace. The hard way?

  ‘We should get on,’ Rachel said at last, seemingly reluctant. ‘Maud will think we’ve fallen down a cliff.’

  ‘Not her. She’s having a wonderful time with Jason.’

  ‘She is, isn’t she?’ Rachel smiled with affection. ‘But Maud has a wonderful time with anyone. Her husband died a few months ago. She was shattered—she still is—but she puts it aside and concentrates on now. If she meets great people she embraces them as friends. If they’re not great, then she’s interested and tries to figure what makes them tick.’

  ‘Have you known her for long?’

  She smiled at that. ‘Crazy as it seems, only for three weeks. We travelled on the Ghan together, the inland train running from Adelaide to Darwin. We were...Maud-embraced. My sister met Maud’s grandson and pow, that was it. My job at the university in Darwin doesn’t start until next month, so I took Hugo’s place on the ship. It’s surely no hardship.’

  But the word had caught him. Pow. Everything else in her explanation seemed reasonable, but pow?

  ‘That was fast. Love at first sight...’ He couldn’t help the derisive note.

  ‘You don’t believe in it?’

  ‘Not in a million years. So how about you? Are you looking for pow yourself?’

  ‘No!’ The fear was back, just like that, and it brought him up fast.

  He could have bitten out his tongue. What a stupid thing to ask.

  ‘Uh oh,’ he said ruefully. ‘I can’t believe I asked that. With what I know of you...that was extraordinarily insensitive. I’m so sorry. It’s none of my business.’

  ‘Like your private life is none of my business,’ she conceded and managed an apologetic smile. ‘I had no right to ask what you believe in—or why you’re travelling alone. Or even why you’re not wearing lipstick.’

  He grinned and the tension dissipated a little. ‘I guess it’s okay to be curious,’ he told her, and by mutual accord they started climbing again. ‘We’re not part of this ship’s demographic.’

  ‘Yeah, the passenger list comprises three honeymoon couples and everyone else is over fifty. Which leaves us hanging loose.’ The strain had disappeared and friendship again seemed possible. ‘I need to warn you,’ she said honestly, ‘Maud is a born matchmaker and, frankly, she’s scary. Now she thinks of you as a hero, I’m thinking she’ll try very hard to get us together. Maybe you should start a mad, passionate affair with one of the Miss Taggerts, just to deflect her.’

  As the Miss Taggerts were both in their seventies, he was able to chuckle. And, thankfully, so did she.

  The awkward moment was past. Excellent.

  He needed to tread warily, he thought. He did want this woman to be a friend.

  But nothing else. Despite Maud’s intentions, he surely wasn’t in the market for a relationship, especially not in the hothouse atmosphere of a cruise ship. He did not believe in pow.

  But he did want her to be a friend, he conceded—even if she was a passenger and little—and exceedingly cute.

  They rounded the next rocky outcrop and saw Jason and Maud, high on the cliff face, with Maud waving wildly down at them.

  ‘They’re here,’ she boomed, her elderly voice echoing out over the wilderness. ‘The paintings are here and they’re wonderful. This whole place is magic. Come up and join the spell.’

  ‘That’s my Maud,’ Rachel said, grinning. ‘There’s magic wherever she goes.’

  And ditto for Maud’s Rachel, Finn thought, watching her wave back, but he didn’t say so.

  He climbed up the scree behind her, careful of her even though she wouldn’t accept help. He watched her wince as she put strain on her obviously injured hip. He watched her greet Maud with laughter and then he saw her quiet awe as she looked at the paintings she’d waited a lifetime to see.

  The art was extraordinary. Here was the depiction of life almost twenty thousand years before, stylized men and women who bore no resemblance to any identifiable race, animals that were long extinct, sketches that showed this vast rocky cliff had once looked out over grassy plains rather than a sea that must be junior in the scheme of time.

  Finn had seen paintings like these the last time he’d done this cruise. Even so, his awe only deepened, and Rachel seemed almost unable to breathe.

  She moved from painting to painting. She looked and looked, making no attempt to touch. Finn’s tour guides were trained to protect these wonders and Finn knew if Rachel tried to touch, Jason would stop her, but there was no need to intercede.

  Maud was treating the paintings with the same respect, but Finn could see that half the old lady’s pleasure was seeing Rachel’s reaction.

  Maybe that went for all of them. Rachel’s wonder was a wonder all by itself.

  She examined everything. She saw the obvious paintings and then went looking for more. She slid underneath a crevice and found paintings on the underside of the rocks. She slid in further so she was in a shallow cave.

  ‘These look like pictures of some sort of wombat,’ she called. ‘On the roof. Oh, my... Come and see.’

  ‘I’m not caving for wombats,’ Maud retorted and Jason elected to keep his uniform clean so it was Finn who slid in after her.

  She was looking in the half dark. Finn had a flashlight app on his camera phone. He shone it on the wombat-type animals and he watched her amazement.

  ‘They can’t have painted these here,’ she breathed, soaking in the freshness of ochre-red animals that looked as if they’d been painted yesterday. ‘This will have been the rock face. The gradual deformation of the magma will have pushed it sideways and under. Imagine how much art’s hidden, but how much has the cliff movement preserved? These rocks are the sentinels of this art. Silent keepers. It does my head in.’

  He thought about it, or he tried to think about it. Artwork in geological terms. He looked again at the wombats—and then he looked at Rachel.

  She was lying in the red dust, flat on her back, with the rock face art two feet above her head. She’d wriggled under the rocks, pushing dirt as she’d wriggled. Her blonde curls were now full of red dust, and there was a streak of red running from her forehead to her chin.

  With the flashlight focused on the wombats, she was barely more than a silhouette, and a grubby one at that, and she wasn’t looking at him. She was totally engrossed in what she was seeing.

  Friends?

  That was fast, he thought ruefully. He’d decided he could think of this
woman as a friend rather than...well, as a woman.

  He’d thought it for a whole twenty minutes, but now he was lying in the dust beside her, her bare arm was just touching his, and he felt...

  Like he had no business feeling. Like his life was about to get complicated.

  Really complicated.

  He did not want complications.

  But she turned to him, her face flushed with excitement, and heaven only knew the effort it cost him not to take her face in his hands and kiss her.

  How would she react?

  The same way he’d react, he thought, or the same way he should react. He’d seen her fear. She didn’t want any sort of relationship and neither did he.

  ‘I can die happy now,’ she breathed, and that was enough to break the moment. To stop him thinking how much he really wanted to kiss her.

  ‘We’re not wedged that far under the rock,’ he managed. ‘I think if we try really hard we should be able to wriggle out. Maybe dying’s not an option.’

  ‘But you know what I mean.’

  ‘No,’ he said, and figured maybe he needed to take this further. There was something in Rachel’s voice that told him this place had been an end point, an ambition held close when things were terrible. If I can just hang on long enough to see the Kimberley art...

  So now she’d seen the art, and maybe she’d need to do more than hang on, he thought. Given what he’d heard in her voice—maybe he should make a push to help her.

  ‘There’s lots of things I still need to do before I die,’ he told her, firm and sure. ‘Maybe not as magnificent as this, but excellent for all that. For instance, I believe today’s lunch on board is wild barramundi. Then we have Montgomery Reef to explore and the Mitchell River and the Horizontal Waterfalls. And, after that, when we get to Broome I’ve promised myself a camel ride. I’ve been there before but never had time to explore. And I hear there are dinosaur footprints in the Broome cliffs. How could I die before I see them?’

  She hesitated in the half light before she spoke again, and he knew he was right to have been concerned. ‘I just...’ she whispered.