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The Outback Wedding Takeover
Emma Darcy
Mitch Tyler is a hard-hitting hotshot Sydney lawyer–who's put his troubled boyhood in the Outback behind him.However, all Mitch's old instincts come simmering to the surface when he realizes that Kathryn Ledger is in need of his protection. Keeping Kathryn close by his side is driving Mitch crazy. There's an incredible sexual magnetism between them–but she's engaged to another man. There's only one thing this former Outback bad boy can do…take over Kathryn's wedding!




Marriage is their mission!
From bad boys to powerful, passionate protectors! Three tycoons from the Outback rescue their brides-to-be….
Meet Ric, Mitch and Johnny—once rebellious teenagers, they survived the Outback to become best friends and formidable tycoons. Now these sexy city slickers must return to the Outback to face a new challenge: claiming their brides….
This month, it’s sexy lawyer Mitch Tyler’s turn!
The Outback Marriage Ransom (#2391)
The Outback Wedding Takeover (#2403)
The Outback Bridal Rescue (#2427)
Emma Darcy is the award-winning Australian author of over eighty novels for Harlequin Presents
.
Her intensely emotional stories have gripped readers around the world. She’s sold nearly 60 million copies of her books worldwide and has won enthusiastic praise.
“Emma Darcy delivers a spicy love story…a fiery conflict and a hot sensuality.”
—Romantic Times

Dear Reader,
To me, there has always been something immensely intriguing about bad boys who’ve made good. With every possible disadvantage in their background, what was it that lifted them beyond it, that gave them the driving force to achieve, to soar to the heights of their chosen fields, becoming much more than survivors…shining stars?
In OUTBACK KNIGHTS I’ve explored the lives of three city boys who ended up in juvenile court and were sent to an Outback sheep station to work through their sentences. There, at Gundamurra, isolated from the influences that had overwhelmed them in the past and under the supervision and care of a shrewd mentor, Patrick Maguire, the boys’ lives became set on different paths as they learned how their individual strengths—their passions—can be used constructively instead of destructively.
But the big unanswered need is love. Even at the top it’s lonely.
And it seemed to me beautifully fitting that as these boys had been rescued, so should they—as men—rescue the women who will give them love. I think there are times when all of us want to be rescued—to be cared for, protected, understood, made to feel safe. It’s not that we can’t manage independently, but, oh, for a knight in shining armor who will fight and slay our dragons with a passionate intensity that makes us melt! Here they are—Ric Donato, Mitch Tyler and Johnny Ellis: OUTBACK KNIGHTS!
With love,



The Outback Wedding Takeover
Emma Darcy



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PROLOGUE
THE plane was heading down to a red dirt airstrip. Apart from the cluster of buildings that marked the sheep station of Gundamurra, there was no other habitation in sight between here and the horizon—a huge empty landscape dotted with scrubby trees.
‘Wish I had my camera,’ Ric Donato murmured.
Mitch Tyler frowned over the other boy’s words. Apparently the stark visual impact of the place didn’t intimidate Ric. But then the guy had been copped joyriding in a stolen Porsche. He probably got off on wide-open spaces, while Mitch had always been happiest with a book in his hands. No local library here to tap into.
‘The middle of nowhere,’ he muttered dispiritedly. ‘I’m beginning to think I made the wrong choice.’
‘Nah,’ Johnny Ellis drawled. ‘Anything’s better than being locked up. At least we can breathe out here.’
‘What? Dust?’ Mitch mocked.
The plane landed, kicking up a cloud of it.
‘Welcome to the great Australian Outback,’ the cop escorting them said derisively. ‘And just remember…if you three city smart-arses want to survive, there’s nowhere to run.’
All three of them ignored him. They were sixteen. Regardless of what life threw at them, they were going to survive. And Johnny had it right, Mitch thought. Six months working on a sheep station had to be better than a year in a juvenile jail.
It was half the time, for a start, and there were only two other guys with him, not a horde of criminals who would have established a pecking order. Mitch hated bullies with a passion. He’d learnt how to look after himself. No-one touched him anymore. But he sure didn’t want to be incarcerated with a mob of power pushers.
He hoped the owner of this place wasn’t some kind of little Hitler, exploiting the justice system to get a free labour force. Mitch decided he’d work out for himself what was fair and challenge anything that wasn’t.
What had the judge said at the sentencing? Something about getting back to ground values. A program that would teach them what real life was about. Wouldn’t teach him a damned thing about real life, Mitch had thought at the time. He’d majored in real life, ever since his father had walked out on his crippled wife, leaving him and his sister to look after their mother. The lion’s share of that had fallen to Jenny, who’d only been eleven years old to his eight when their father had deserted them. Not that he’d been much help anyway, getting drunk every night, drowning his sorrows instead of facing up to them. A coward. That was what his father had been. A contemptible coward.
But not as contemptible as the guy who’d date-raped Jenny.
At least Mitch had had the satisfaction of facing that bastard with what he’d done.
There she’d been, all excited about being invited to a swish party, finally getting into a bit of social life, and to be treated like a disposable piece of meat…
He was glad he’d given that piece of slime a beating he’d remember for a long time. It might be primitive justice, and against the law, but better than letting him get away with it, no justice at all. Jenny had been too traumatised to press charges against him. The silver-spoon heir to a fortune would probably have got off anyway, with his mega-wealthy family having the power and influence to get anything excused.
Mitch felt no remorse over what he’d done. None whatsoever. Though he was sorry he wouldn’t be at home to help for the next six months.
The plane taxied back to where a man—the owner?—was waiting beside a four-wheel drive Land Rover. Big man—broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, craggy weathered face, iron-grey hair. Had to be over fifty but still looking tough and formidable. Not someone to buck in a hurry, Mitch decided, though size didn’t automatically command his respect.
‘John Wayne rides again,’ he mocked to cover his unease with the situation.
‘No horse,’ Johnny remarked with a grin.
Mitch found himself smiling back.
It looked like Johnny Ellis would provide some comic relief if life got grim here. He seemed to have the kind of affable nature that would avoid violence if it was avoidable, though even at sixteen his physique was big enough and strong enough to match anyone in a punch-up if forced into it.
Johnny and Ric were street kids. No family. And no doubt they’d worked out ways of looking after themselves. Mitch figured Johnny specialised in being everyone’s mate. He had friendly hazel eyes, a ready grin, and sun-streaked brown hair that tended to flop over his forehead. He’d been caught dealing in marijuana, though he swore it was only to musicians who’d get it from someone else anyway.
Ric Donato was a very different kettle of fish. He had an intensity about him that could make him dangerous, Mitch thought. Was he a thief because he wanted too much, too obsessively? He seemed to have a very single-minded passion for the girl he’d stolen the Porsche for, wanting to match up to her rich life.
Mitch imagined that most girls would get a thrill out of Ric, just by being the focus of his attention. The guy had sex appeal in spades—mad, bad and dangerous, well-built without being hunky, and strikingly handsome in a very macho Italian way—black curly hair, almost black eyes, olive skin, and a face that Michelangelo might have carved for its masculine beauty. Perversely enough, the guy didn’t seem to have tickets on himself at all. Like he’d been hit too many times to believe he’d been handed anything to feel good about.
Mitch felt okay with himself. Angry at what had been dealt out to his family, but okay with the person he was. He didn’t have Ric’s good looks but he was presentable enough—on the lean side but not a weakling, taller than most guys his age, and having blue eyes with almost black hair seemed to impress some girls.
Mitch would prefer them to be more impressed by the smart brain that had got him labelled as a nerd before he took up boxing at the local boys’ club. He’d never understood why using his intelligence earned scornful remarks from the jocks. Anyhow, he wasn’t called a nerd or a weed any more. He might not be liked but he’d made damned sure he was respected.
The plane came to a halt.
The cop told them to get their duffle-bags from under the back seats. A few minutes later he was leading them out to a way of life which was far, far removed from anything the three of them had known before.
The initial introduction had Mitch instantly tensing up.
‘Here are your boys, Mister Maguire. Straight off the city streets for you to whip into shape.’
The big old man—and he sure was big close up—gave the cop a steely look. ‘That’s not how we do things out here.’ The words were softly spoken but they carried a confident authority that scorned any need for bully-boy tactics.
He nodded to the three of them, offering a measure of respect. ‘I’m Patrick Maguire. Welcome to Gundamurra. In the Aboriginal language, that means “Good day”. I hope you will all eventually feel it was a good day when you first set foot on my place.’
Mitch felt reassured by this little speech. It had a welcoming ring to it, no punishment intended. As long as they were treated fairly, Mitch was prepared to cope with whatever work was thrown at them. He mostly lived in his mind, anyway.
‘And you are…?’ Patrick Maguire held out a massive hand that looked suspiciously like a bone-cruncher.
‘Mitch Tyler,’ he answered, thrusting his own hand out in defiant challenge.
‘Good to meet you, Mitch.’
A normal hand-shake, no attempt to dominate.
Johnny’s hand came out with no hesitation. ‘Johnny Ellis. Good to meet you, Mister Maguire.’ Big smile to the old man, pouring out the charm. Getting onside fast was Johnny.
A weighing look in the steely grey gaze, plus a hint of amusement. No-one’s fool, Mitch thought, impressed by the shrewd intelligence of the man and watching him keenly as he moved on to Ric who looked every bit as keyed up as Mitch had been.
‘Ric Donato.’ It was a flat introduction, strained of any telltale emotion. Ric took the offered hand, feeling the strength in it, seeming to test what it might mean to him.
‘Ready to go?’ the old man asked.
‘Yeah. I’m ready.’ Aggression in this reply.
Ready to take on the whole damned world if he had to, Mitch interpreted. Ric Donato might not have tickets on himself but he sure had a huge chip on his shoulder. Mitch wondered if Patrick Maguire would somehow manage to remove it while they were here. Would he also be able to dig under Johnny’s genial facade and discover what made Johnny tick?
The knowing grey eyes swept back to Mitch and he felt himself bristling defensively. Did this old man of the land have anything to teach him? Only about sheep, Mitch thought mockingly…yet six months was a long time, and for all he knew right now, he might end up feeling it was a ‘good day’ when he’d first set foot on Gundamurra.

CHAPTER ONE
Eighteen years later…
THE iron composure of the woman in the witness stand finally cracked. Mitch knew his cross-examination had been merciless. At his lethal best. And totally justified in his mind. This woman had shown no mercy to her son who’d begged his mother for help which had been steadfastly refused, and not even his suicide had softened her heart toward her bereft daughter-in-law. He watched her break into weeping and felt no sympathy at all.
She wasn’t weeping over her lost son.
She wasn’t weeping over the torment he’d suffered.
She was weeping because she’d been faced with her own monstrous ego that had branded her son a failure for not living up to what she had required from him.
And now it was going to cost her, not only in having her character stripped bare in public, but also in an appropriate financial settlement for the cast-off daughter-in-law and her baby son.
His opposing counsel, Harriet Lowell, who also happened to be Mitch’s recently excised partner in bed, requested a recess and the judge decided it was close enough to the lunch break to take it now, court to be resumed at two o’clock.
Harriet threw Mitch a dirty look as she moved to assist her client from the witness stand. He returned a steely gaze that promised more of the same after lunch if there was no agreement to the settlement he was demanding on behalf of his client.
Harriet could spit chips at how he was handling this case but he was going to win it hands down. Justice would be served. And he was glad it had come to this—payment in more than dollars. People who gave pain should feel it themselves. The trick was to find what actually hurt them, make them reconsider their position. And keep it all under a legal umbrella.
Use the system to get justice.
That’s what Patrick Maguire had taught him.
It was a good system if it was used as it was meant to be used. Patrick had been right about that. Mitch had been studying the law ever since he’d left Gundamurra—eighteen years—orchestrating what was necessary to get his own juvenile conviction for assault set aside so he could enter the profession, working his way up to becoming a barrister with a formidable reputation for winning the cases he took on.
He believed in them. That was what made the difference. He never took on a case unless he believed he was fighting for right, and then he gave it everything he could bring to it. Harriet saw the law as a chess game—moves and counter-moves—but to Mitch the chessboard was always black and white, and he wasn’t interested in playing black.
His clerk met him outside the courtroom, handing him a message from Ric Donato. He couldn’t make lunch today. Disappointing. Mitch always enjoyed meeting up with Ric. And Johnny. Although their lives had travelled very different paths since their time at Gundamurra, the three of them had remained good friends over the years.
They shared the common bond of Patrick Maguire’s influence in setting them on the paths they’d chosen—each to their own bent. And they understood where each other was coming from and why. Not too many people ever achieved that kind of understanding.
It came from living together in constant proximity for six months. There were few distractions in the outback. It was a place for talking, chewing over things, reflecting on what had meaning and what didn’t, sharing each other’s visions of the world. And dreams.
Ric had become an award-winning photo-journalist—amazing stuff he’d shot with his camera. Retired from the job now and running an international photographic agency. Very successfully.
Johnny was a star with his country music, currently touring the U.S.—a millionaire many times over with most of his recordings going platinum.
Mitch was the only one whose chosen career kept him in Australia. The halls of justice called to him and Sydney was his city. Still, it was great to catch up with the others when they were in town. He wondered what had caused Ric to miss their lunch today—had to be some business problem.
‘Cancel the booking at the restaurant,’ he instructed his clerk. ‘I’ll buy some sandwiches, eat in the park, get some fresh air.’
If he couldn’t have Ric’s company to dilute the cold nastiness of this case, he’d prefer to be outdoors, soaking up some sunshine.
Sitting in the park reminded Mitch of his own mother—the countless times he’d pushed her wheelchair to the small park near where they’d lived at Surry Hills. Every Saturday and Sunday if it was fine. Fresh air and sunshine, being outside, watching other people, spending time together, giving Jenny a break so she felt free to go and do her own thing—which was what his mother had always encouraged for both of them, hating the idea of her disability holding them back from pursuing goals of their own.
She hadn’t tried to rule the lives of her children, not like the woman he’d just pilloried on the witness stand, meting out punishment when her son hadn’t measured up to her predetermined mould for him. If anything, his own mother had been too self-effacing, not even wanting to ask for what was her rightful due.
It was good that she’d lived long enough to see him called to the bar. She’d been very proud of that achievement. And she’d seen Jenny married to a good guy, too. Both her children doing well for themselves. If he ever had children himself…well, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
He’d dallied with the idea of marrying Harriet. They shared the same profession. She was a smart, witty woman and he’d generally enjoyed her company. Enjoyed the sex with her, too. Until he’d found out she was also having sex with one of the judges, laughing it off as simply a strategy to give her an edge in court. Winning was what Harriet was about. Winning at all costs. She’d probably thought winning him would be a feather in her cap. She’d certainly been angling for marriage.
No way now, Mitch thought. If he ever married, he’d want honesty in the relationship. Loyalty, too. As for love…well, Harriet had engaged his mind, but had she ever really engaged his heart? Mitch wasn’t sure what love was between a man and a woman. Attraction, yes. A sexual high, yes. But love…maybe he’d become too disciplined in controlling emotion to feel a deep abiding passion for a woman.
He strolled back to the court house, gearing himself up for another competitive round with Harriet who’d no doubt be objecting to every tack he took with her client. His clerk met him on the steps with another message—this one from Ric’s executive assistant in Sydney, a woman by the name of Kathryn Ledger, asking him to return her call on a matter of urgency.
Was Ric in trouble?
A broken lunch appointment, no excuse given.
Now an urgent call from his office.
Mitch glanced at his watch. Still ten minutes before he was due in court. He whipped out his mobile phone, retreated down the steps for a quick bit of privacy and called the number written on the message slip.
‘Kathryn Ledger,’ came the brisk response.
‘Mitch Tyler. I don’t have much time. What’s the problem?’
‘In a nutshell…Ric received photographic evidence this morning that a woman he knows is a battered wife. He went straight to her home and took her out of the situation. He’s flown her off somewhere in Johnny Ellis’s plane.’
‘Good God!’ Mitch muttered in disbelief.
‘The husband was having her watched by a private investigator who lost their trail at our basement car park when Ric switched cars.’ The incredible tale went on. ‘Her husband has since turned up at our office, harassing the staff for information. I gave him the name of the restaurant where you and Ric were supposed to meet for lunch, but he’s bound to come back when he doesn’t find Ric there. My instructions were to call you if there was trouble.’
‘A woman he knew?’ Mitch queried.
‘He called her Lara Seymour and said they went back a long way.’
Ric’s Lara? From when he was sixteen?
Mitch’s mind boggled.
Could a youthful passion last this long?
Stealing a Porsche to impress a girl was one thing. Stealing a married woman from her husband—eighteen years later!—was one hell of a leap.
‘But the name isn’t Lara Seymour now,’ the informing voice went on. ‘It’s Lara Chappel…married to Gary Chappel, son of Victor Chappel. You know who I mean?’
Gary Chappel!
Mitch was momentarily poleaxed by shock.
‘Mr Tyler? The Chappel medical clinic and nursing home empire? We’re talking big money and power here. And we’ve got trouble.’
Mitch’s trapped breath hissed out as his mind clicked to action stations. ‘I know exactly what you mean, Ms Ledger. Do you still have this photographic evidence?’
‘Yes. Five copies in the safe.’
‘I’ll be sending two security men to escort you to my chambers. Do not leave your office until they arrive. Bring one copy of the photograph with you. Once you are safely in my chambers, wait in my private office for me. I’ll join you as soon as I’m free. I cannot emphasise enough…follow these instructions to the letter, Ms Ledger. Believe me, you have big trouble.’
‘Thank you, Mr Tyler. Rest assured I’ll follow your advice.’
‘Good!’
Efficient and sensible, Mitch thought as he hurried back to his clerk. As she should be, given her executive position in Ric’s business. All the same, he was impressed by her quick summary of the situation and her no-quibbling response to the course of action he’d outlined.
He told his clerk what he wanted done, adding, ‘This is urgent business. Get the security men there pronto, and tell them Ms Ledger is carrying merchandise that is invaluable.’
Definitely invaluable, Mitch thought with grim satisfaction. Legal evidence against Gary Chappel! No way could that bastard wriggle out of this one. Or buy his way out. Not with Mitch Tyler having a controlling hand.
Harriet signalled him aside just as he was about to enter the courtroom. Even with a barrister’s wig covering her silky blond hair, she still looked beautiful—flawless creamy skin, her full-lipped sensuous mouth painted a glossy red, a fine aristocratic nose breathing fire while her big grey eyes smoked with angry frustration.
‘Where have you been?’ she demanded.
Not at her beck and call any more.
He raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘Out. Is your client ready to settle?’
‘She’s ready to deal.’
‘The only deal on the table is what I nominated from the beginning.’
‘She won’t come at that.’
‘Then I’ll see you both in court.’
Harriet reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his robe, halting him. ‘This is blackmail, Mitch.’
‘No. It’s exposure.’
Which was what Gary Chappel deserved, too.
Though it probably wouldn’t work out that way.
Better to hold the sword over his head if the aim was to keep everyone free of trouble.
‘You’re painting this black and white, not accepting any greys. And there are greys,’ Harriet insisted vehemently.
‘Then prove it to the jury.’
‘You know damned well you’ve got their sympathy.’
‘I wonder why.’
With that mocking retort he pulled his robe free of her grasp and headed into the courtroom, prepared to fight on but suspecting he wouldn’t have to. That little contretemps had sounded like a last-ditch effort to get him to bend a little, win something for her client, which, of course, would be a face-saving exercise for Harriet. Total defeat didn’t sit well with her. Never would. Greys suited her better.
No sooner was everyone settled in the courtroom than Harriet made the request to approach the bench. In very short order, Mitch was informed that Harriet’s client had conceded and full settlement was agreed upon. The case was over, bar the paperwork.
Normally Mitch would have felt enormously gratified by this result but he found himself impatient with having to tie up all the ends, deal with the media, and see his client off with the courtesy due to her. This fight had been won. Gary Chappel was now in the antagonist’s corner and Mitch’s mind was already occupied with the fight ahead.
Kathryn Ledger was no more than a name and a voice to him. He thought of her only as a source, bringing him the ammunition he’d use to attack. That she was also a woman held no relevance at all until he entered his private office and came face-to-face with her.

CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS like a bolt of electric energy charging into the room. Kathryn felt as though she’d been zapped off the chair she’d been sitting on, her body lifting onto her feet, straightening up, instinctively meeting the force of the man head on, while staring at him in wide-eyed shock.
This was Mitch Tyler?
A barrister?
She’d always thought of barristers as rather lofty and effete academics in fusty wigs, full of their own self-importance. Yet here she was, faced with a dynamic entity who literally bristled with masculinity, so much so her knees felt weak. And her heart was fluttering.
Tall, dark and handsome, but not like Ric Donato. Not like Ric at all. Any woman would call her boss drop-dead gorgeous, but this man didn’t come out of any romantic mould. Power was the only word that came to Kathryn’s dazed mind. He had a strong square jaw, very firmly delineated mouth, a sharp triangular shaped nose, straight black brows, and beneath them, stunning blue eyes that burned straight into Kathryn’s like twin lasers, totally transfixing her.
She stared at him and he stared right back at her. Kathryn couldn’t gather wits enough to say a word. The mutual stare went on so long, she began to wonder if he doubted her identity, though surely his clerk would have told him she was waiting in here where he’d told her to wait.

Mitch was thinking Ric must be mad. He had this woman right under his nose and he ran off with someone else?
She was like Tinkerbell…magic…a pixie face with those wonderful green eyes and the gamine hairstyle, like a flyaway cap of burnished copper, a lovely pouty mouth that was made for kissing, an hourglass figure poured into a curve-hugging green suit, the skirt delectably short enough to show off long, shapely legs…how could Ric be immune to such gut-tugging femininity? Mitch was struggling to remember this was a professional visit.
‘Mr Tyler…?’
Her voice sounded husky, uncertain…and incredibly sexy.
‘Mitch,’ he said forcefully, deciding Kathryn Ledger was not his client and he didn’t have to keep a professional distance. She was here on Ric’s behalf. And Lara Chappel’s. He propelled himself forward, offering his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Kathryn.’ Lovely name. Rolled off his tongue as though he’d been saying it for centuries.
‘Mitch,’ she repeated, looking at him wonderingly as her hand slipped into his.
The top of her head only came up to his chin so her face was tilted up. There were sparkly gold specks around the rim of her green irises like an explosion of fireworks. Her mouth was still slightly parted from having spoken his name and Mitch had to fight the urge to bend down and taste it. Her hand was soft, dainty, and he hung onto it because it was the only touch he could sensibly allow himself at this point. They’d barely met.
‘No trouble coming here?’ he asked, pushing his mind to get back on track—the whole purpose of her presence in his office.
‘No. Thank you for the escorts.’ A swift little smile. ‘They certainly made me feel safe.’
‘Good!’ He smiled back, feeling a wild joy in having protected this woman. And he’d go on protecting her, whatever it took. ‘You’ve brought the photo?’
‘Yes. In my bag.’
She nodded to a many-zippered beige handbag resting by the chair she’d been sitting on. Mitch reluctantly released her hand, freeing her to get the critical photo for him. Losing the physical link made him realise how possessive he was feeling toward Kathryn Ledger—amazingly so. He couldn’t recall any other woman ever having such an impact on him.
He watched her lift the bag onto his desk as he mentally examined the primitive instincts she stirred. Control was second nature to him. Only once in his life had he completely lost it, wanting to beat Jenny’s rapist to a pulp, and he might well have done so if he hadn’t been forcibly restrained.
Control the anger and channel the energy into more effective strategies, Patrick had advised. But this…what he was feeling now with Kathryn Ledger…was completely outside Mitch’s experience and he couldn’t find any control mechanisms for it. His entire body seemed to be buzzing with excitement.
Her left hand moved to open a zipper on the bag. It was like a punch in the heart, seeing the ring on her third finger. A ring with a flashy solitaire diamond. An engagement ring!
She was taken.
Another man had already claimed her as his.
Anger smashed through the shock. It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. He’d fight to…
No!
Mitch shook his head clear of the crazy surge of testosterone, enforcing reason. Kathryn Ledger had willingly given herself to someone else. Someone she obviously wanted to marry. Her choice was made. And, of course, Ric had respected it. She wasn’t available to him any more than she was available to Mitch.
Checkmate!
He had to back off.
Never mind that it felt wrong.
She had come to him for help. Nothing more. He had to get his mind focused on the job and forget everything else.

Kathryn was trying desperately to get herself together. It didn’t help that her hand was still tingling from Mitch Tyler’s touch, that her legs felt shaky, and she could barely concentrate on opening her bag and extracting the telling photograph. She felt as though she’d been knocked completely out of kilter.
For a moment there, she’d even been wondering what it might be like if Mitch Tyler kissed her. Jeremy—her partner for the past year!—had been totally blotted out of her mind. The reason for being here in these legal chambers had been lost, too. It was as though she’d been caught up in some magnetic force-field that shut out everything else but the man holding her hand, and she was still quivering inside from the unbelievably strong tug of his attraction.
Her fingers closed over the photograph and she took a deep breath before turning to hand it to him. It was a relief that his gaze instantly fastened on the image of Lara and Gary Chappel, giving her more time to recover her composure. Better still when he stepped away from her, moving around to the other side of his desk, putting considerable distance between them, enough distance to ease the tightness in her chest.
‘Thank you,’ he said, flicking a look at her as he gestured to the chair she’d vacated. ‘Please sit down again.’
She grabbed her bag off the desk and gratefully retreated even further, settling herself before risking another glance at him. He’d sat down, too, occupying the big leather chair behind his desk, studying the photograph she’d given him, his straight black brows lowered in a frown.
His dark hair was also straight, very thick and cut short in graduated layers to stay neat. He had neat ears, as well, almost no lobes like her own, but curved around the top, not pointy. He wouldn’t have been teased about having pixie ears when he was a kid. She couldn’t imagine anyone ever teasing Mitch Tyler. One look from those powerful blue eyes…
A convulsive little shiver ran down her spine. He had to be dynamite in a courtroom. She wondered how Ric had come to know him. They looked to be about the same age—mid-thirties—yet she couldn’t see how their lives would have touched. As far as she knew, her boss had not gone through university. Maybe somewhere in his years as a photo-journalist he’d sought legal assistance. Whatever…Ric Donato trusted this man and Kathryn could see why he would. In any kind of fight, she’d want Mitch Tyler on her side.
He jackknifed forward, picked up the telephone from his desk, made a call, still frowning as he waited for a response which came within a few moments. ‘Patrick, it’s Mitch. Have you heard from Ric today?’
The reply must have been negative because he quickly ran on, ‘I think he’s heading your way. Took Johnny’s plane out. If you hear from him would you please let me know?’
Another pause, a grimace, then, ‘He left me with a problem and I’d appreciate more instructions. If he calls you, tell him to call me. Okay?’
Phone down. He knew Johnny Ellis, too, Kathryn thought, and all three men were obviously connected to this Patrick whom Mitch had just called.
‘Ric didn’t tell me where he was going,’ she offered.
The laser-sharp eyes bored into hers again. ‘He wouldn’t. Not in these circumstances. Fill me in on the whole story, Kathryn, as much as you know.’
His gaze alone seemed to be picking at her brain. Kathryn felt constrained to remember every little detail in case it was vitally important. ‘You know Ric’s business,’ she started.
‘Brokering photographs to all forms of media around the world,’ he rapped out, tapping the one he’d now laid on the desk in front of him. ‘This one was e-mailed in?’
‘Yes. Taken at the airport. Dated yesterday. We were checking through the computer file this morning…’
‘What time was it when Ric saw this?’
‘About nine-thirty. Normally we don’t deal in shots that might cause people problems. I was about to delete this one when Ric stopped me. He asked me to print it, give him a copy, put five more copies in the office safe and buy the copyright from the photographer so no-one else could print it. He said he didn’t care how much it cost…just get it.’
Mitch nodded thoughtfully. ‘Did you acquire the copyright?’
‘Yes. After Ric left. Which he did as soon as I’d printed out his copy. He took it with him. I didn’t know what he was going to do. He simply said he and Lara Chappel…Lara Seymour…went way back and she wouldn’t want that photo published. I felt…’ She hesitated, wondering if she should colour the facts with her feelings or not.
‘Tell me,’ Mitch encouraged.
She sighed. ‘All this was out of character. That photo got to him personally. In a big way. It wasn’t normal business, if you know what I mean.’
It evoked a wry little smile. ‘I guess we all have moments that aren’t…normal.’
A flood of heat whooshed up her neck and scorched her cheeks. Kathryn couldn’t remember the last time she had blushed. She was thirty years old, a successful career woman, adept at handling all sorts of people and situations. Yet here was embarrassing proof of how abnormal her reaction was to this man. Was it horribly obvious that he’d put her in such a spin, even her blood temperature was affected?
Stick to the facts, girl, she berated herself. Best to steer right away from feelings, because she was in a high state of confusion about her own.
‘It was just past eleven when Ric called me from his car,’ she went on briskly. ‘He said he was heading back to the office, should be there in ten minutes. He had Lara Chappel with him and he needed my help. He instructed me to tell my secretary I’d be away for a couple of hours at a business meeting with a magazine editor—nothing unusual about that—and meet him in the basement car park with my bag and car keys.’
‘You didn’t question what help Ric wanted?’
Kathryn shrugged. ‘He’s my boss.’
‘How did he sound?’
‘Very much in command.’
Mitch Tyler nodded. ‘Ric has worked in war zones. He’d keep his head.’
Kathryn didn’t know if Mitch was reassuring her or himself. Certainly the familiar way he spoke of Ric’s past suggested a long and close friendship.
‘So you were there waiting for him when he drove into the basement car park,’ he prompted.
‘Yes. Ric said they’d been followed by a grey sedan—male driver wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses—bound to be hanging around outside since there was no entry to the private car park without an official identification card. He wanted me to drive him and Lara Chappel to Bankstown Airport. They got into my car and scrunched down in their seats while I drove out, and they stayed down until I could assure them we weren’t being followed by the pursuit vehicle.’
‘Did Lara Chappel say anything to you?’
‘Not until we arrived at the airport. She simply did whatever Ric told her to.’
‘How did she appear to you? Her reactions to what was going on?’
Kathryn paused, wanting to be accurate in her impressions. ‘Nervous, frightened, distracted,’ she answered slowly.
Mitch cocked his head to one side, a musing expression on his face. ‘Did it occur to you that you could be accused of assisting in an unlawful abduction?’
Kathryn was shocked into protesting. ‘It was a getaway, not an abduction. Lara Chappel was willingly following Ric’s lead.’
He leaned forward and tapped the photograph on the desk. ‘Ric might have used this for leverage.’
‘He wouldn’t do that.’
The blue eyes glittered mockingly. ‘How can you tell what a man will do…when he wants a woman very badly?’
His gaze slid down to her mouth and Kathryn found herself holding her breath while her heart skittered, reacting to what felt like a simmering passion aimed directly at her. Was he just projecting what he thought Ric might feel toward Lara Chappel? Was a clever barrister a brilliant actor, as well? But why target her like this? It felt really personal. And terribly unsettling.
‘It wasn’t like that,’ she burst out in an urgent need to defend herself. ‘It was obvious that Lara Chappel trusted him. She was with him willingly, anxious to make good her escape. Once we arrived at the airport, she thanked me very sincerely for my help. And I noticed she wasn’t wearing any rings.’
It reminded Kathryn of the ring she was wearing herself—the ring proclaiming she’d agreed to marry Jeremy Haynes. Her gaze dropped to the flashy solitaire diamond he’d chosen for her and she told herself once again it was a measure of how much he valued her, not a status symbol of how much he was worth. Of course, money was useful. Life was a lot easier with it than without it. But sometimes…
She twisted the ring around on her finger, wishing it was an emerald, something more personal to her. Jeremy knew she loved green. Yet she couldn’t very well argue against his romantic declaration that ‘Diamonds are forever.’ She heaved a rueful sigh and raised her gaze to the man who was stirring all sorts of troubling confusion in her.
He was staring at her ring, watching the agitated movement of it around her finger. She instantly stilled her hands and spoke very firmly. ‘If a woman takes off her rings, it’s a very deliberate action, meaning that relationship—her commitment to it—is over. Lara Chappel wanted out of her marriage. I have no doubt of that. Ric wasn’t abducting her. She looked at him as though he was performing a miracle for her.’
‘A miracle…’ Mitch Tyler’s mouth twisted with irony as his gaze flicked up to meet hers. ‘I see you’re engaged to be married, Kathryn.’
‘Yes.’ Why did she feel defiant about that? He wasn’t attacking her on it…was he?
‘When is the happy wedding day?’
‘We haven’t decided yet.’
‘No keen rush to the altar?’
She frowned, uneasy with these personal questions. ‘It depends on work factors.’
‘Your work or his?’
‘I don’t see how this is relevant to the situation that brought me here,’ she flared at him.
‘I assure you it is highly relevant,’ he retorted, making a languid gesture that denied any attack. ‘I’m simply ascertaining how long you want to remain in the position of Ric’s executive assistant. Should your fiancé be happy for you to walk out of it today…’
‘I wouldn’t be happy,’ she cut in emphatically.
‘So you want to keep your job, regardless of any threat Gary Chappel might pose?’
She glared at him. ‘You’re supposed to take care of that.’
‘Ah yes, the miracle worker,’ he drawled. ‘Ric plays knight to the rescue of his fair Lara, and I’m handed the job of slaying the dragon and keeping you safe.’ His eyes beamed hard relentless purpose at her. ‘And I will. I will keep you safe, Kathryn. But the legal moves will take a day or two and I’m just wondering how much your fiancé cares about you and your safety.’ One eyebrow lifted in challenge. ‘As much as Ric, taking his woman right out of reach?’
‘I’m not stupid. I can take care of myself,’ she protested.
‘Not against a man like Gary Chappel,’ came the flat retort. Then more softly, insidiously touching a raw memory, ‘How did you feel when he confronted you in your office?’
She shuddered.
Mitch Tyler instantly pounced on the response. ‘You were frightened.’
‘He was in a rage.’
‘Breathing fire. He not only has a lot of fire-power, Kathryn, but he has no conscience about using it. If Gary Chappel thinks you’re standing in his way…’
The telephone rang. Mitch Tyler snatched up the receiver and listened to the person on the other end of the line.
It was a relief to have his attention withdrawn from her, focused on something else. Kathryn reflected on what he’d said about Gary Chappel, whom she’d found a very scary man, having no regard whatsoever for appropriate or even reasonable behaviour. She’d managed to get rid of him once, but if he stormed into the office again…or came to her home…
A man who had his wife watched and followed…a battered wife…violence toward women…it was beginning to look very ugly to Kathryn. She remembered how he’d repeated her name, committing it to memory for further reference, his contemptuous manner toward her, the sense of threat.
‘Okay. So you’ve agreed to let Lara stay with you. That’s fine but Ric can’t stay, too.’
Mitch’s curt words broke Kathryn’s train of concern, alerting her to a new development.
‘There have already been aggressive moves made by Gary Chappel to recover his wife,’ he continued. ‘I have Ric’s executive assistant, Kathryn Ledger, here in my chambers, a protective move against further harassment in her office. In all fairness, Ric must become an open target for Chappel to pursue. Best if he flies out of the country as soon as possible—I mean tomorrow—get the heat off his Sydney office.’
Yes, Kathryn thought. She certainly didn’t want another encounter with Gary Chappel.
A pause for listening, then, ‘Get them both to call me when they arrive. I’ll talk to Ric first but I also need ammunition from Lara Chappel to make legal moves stick. I have a plan of action in mind but it will only work with Lara’s full co-operation.’
A plan of action… Kathryn breathed more easily. She instinctively had faith in Mitch Tyler’s ability to counter-punch anything. If anyone had the power to take on a problem and beat it, he did. Ric had trusted him with it. She did, too. And now that communication with the escaping couple could be reestablished, everything should be quickly settled.
Mitch put the receiver down. Kathryn tensed as his riveting gaze zeroed in on her again. ‘Do you live with your fiancé?’ he asked point-blank.
‘Yes.’
‘He’ll be at home with you tonight?’
She shook her head. ‘He’s in Melbourne on business. He won’t be home until tomorrow evening.’
‘You can’t be on your own, Kathryn. Not with Gary Chappel in a state of raging frustration. Believe me, I know what that man is capable of. Without some restraining force—and I can’t even begin to apply that until tomorrow—he’s a loose cannon.’ He gestured to the phone. ‘Want to call your fiancé? Ask him to fly back to Sydney this evening?’
While he was in the middle of negotiations for his future career in financial services? Calling him away from critical meetings to nurse-maid her? Because of something that had happened through her job? Which didn’t matter as much as his, given that he’d be the main source of financial support when they had children.
‘I don’t want to do that,’ she quickly decided. Jeremy would consider it totally unreasonable.
The blue eyes bored in. ‘Aren’t you more important to him than business?’
‘I can take care of myself,’ she asserted again.
‘You’re a woman…against a man with resources he’ll have no compunction in using to get his own way.’
Jeremy would blame her for getting involved with something that was not really her job, bringing trouble upon herself, messing everything up for him. ‘I can go to a hotel,’ she said, desperately seeking an alternative course.
Mitch Tyler shook his head. ‘If you won’t call your fiancé to come home and stand between you and any threat from Gary Chappel…you stay with me.’
Her heart skipped a beat. ‘Stay…with you?’ She could barely get the words out, her mouth had gone so dry.
‘Ric made me responsible for you. I take that responsibility very seriously.’
‘But…’
‘I have a house in Woollahra. It has a guest suite which my sister and her husband use when they come to Sydney. You will be safe with me, Kathryn.’
He wouldn’t allow anyone to get to her. She was sure of that. But safe with him? When he seemed to be driving stakes through her relationship with Jeremy with everything he said, everything he was?
I need to call Jeremy, she thought. Stop this now.
Yet she knew it would only cause an argument…in Mitch Tyler’s hearing…and he’d be making silent judgements…stirring her up even more…making her wish…
No.
Better that she did stay with him. If she was so strongly attracted to this man, and the attraction remained strong throughout the evening, maybe she shouldn’t be marrying Jeremy Haynes.
Kathryn looked down at the ring on her hand.
And the most troubling thing of all was…she wished she wasn’t wearing it.

CHAPTER THREE
MITCH’S whole body was buzzing with adrenaline. He’d thrown down the challenge and every nerve was keyed to piano-wire tension, waiting for which way Kathryn would jump. Her gaze had dropped to the ring on her finger.
Take it off, Mitch fiercely willed. If the guy won’t drop everything to look after you at a time of need, he’s not worthy of you.
He was tempted to screw the challenge up another notch, offer to speak to the man himself, make him aware that Kathryn was in serious danger. But that might be tipping the scales which were delicately balanced at the moment. She was not stupid. He’d spelled out what the situation was. The ball was in her court. If she chose to stay with him…well, that choice would be very telling, indeed.
‘I don’t want to interfere with Jeremy’s business,’ she said slowly.
His heart kicked with excitement as she lifted her gaze to his, her eyes returning a challenge that demanded he measure up to his own promises.
‘You claim I’ll be safe with you…’
His groin tingled. It was definitely a sexual challenge. Did she feel the attraction, too? He cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Are you asking me if I’m a man of honour? If you can spend a night under my roof without my coming onto you?’
Heat whooshed into her cheeks, a sure sign that he’d hit a nerve that was pulsing with vulnerability. He smiled, wondering how tempted she was, though he spoke to dispel her unease.
‘You’re wearing a ring, Kathryn. You can count on my respecting it. Okay?’
The light mockery goaded her into accepting safe refuge with him. ‘Okay,’ she echoed on a long expulsion of obviously held breath. ‘If you don’t mind, I think it will be less fuss all around if I simply stay with you overnight.’
‘Best if you remain in my house tomorrow, as well,’ he pressed. ‘Take a sick day from work. By tomorrow night there should be safeguards in place so you can resume your normal life.’
‘All right,’ she agreed, her beautiful green eyes glittering brightly above the scarlet cheeks.
He’d won, Mitch thought exultantly. She’d moved onto his ground. And she wasn’t married yet. Her agreement could very well mean she was interested in finding out more about him, exploring the territory. Within limitations, Mitch forcefully reminded himself. The ring was still on her finger.
Still, his zest for life and all its challenges zoomed into overdrive. While he was waiting for Ric to call from Gundamurra, he took Kathryn through the scene Gary Chappel had made at the office, learning more about her and how she conducted herself in a crisis situation. Very cool and collected. Definitely not someone to be rolled over in a hurry. Yet she wasn’t so cool with him, Mitch happily reflected.
Was her relationship with Jeremy rock-solid, or could he give it a shake? Was it her own pride insisting on not making a fuss, or couldn’t she count on her fiancé to respond as he should? As much as Mitch wanted to believe the latter, it was clear that Kathryn Ledger was not a panic merchant and might simply be taking what she saw as a pragmatic course. Security was at hand in the person of Mitch Tyler. There was no need to bother her fiancé. The danger would be over by the time Jeremy walked back into her life.
All the same, Mitch couldn’t help feeling elated that she had chosen to spend tonight with him. The thought struck him—If I were her lover, I wouldn’t like this choice one bit. Yes, she was definitely playing with fire, and Mitch privately determined to stir the embers every which way he could, watching how the wind blew.

I’m playing with fire, Kathryn thought, feeling more and more unsettled by her decision to bypass Jeremy tonight and go with Mitch Tyler. It might have seemed a safe and sensible option but it wasn’t. Somehow he was making her question where she was in her life and why, and the answers didn’t feel so right anymore.
When the call came through from Ric Donato, diverting Mitch’s attention from her, she told herself she could still change her mind. Yet as she sat listening to the one-sided conversation, she found herself totally captivated by his handling of the situation.
There was no criticism of Ric’s actions. Mitch projected both sympathy and understanding for what had been done, and the strategy he outlined for involving Victor Chappel as a powerful restraining force on his son sounded good to Kathryn, as did the threat of negative publicity which would automatically accompany legal action if the restraint didn’t hold.
She was particularly touched by the gentle tone he used when he rather hesitantly remarked, ‘Patrick said…this is your Lara…from the old days.’
The old days… Kathryn wondered what the history was—how these men and Lara Chappel were connected, Ric Donato’s enduring caring for her and their empathy for what he felt.
The conversation moved on to Kathryn’s safety with Mitch, relating that her fiancé was away and she’d be spending the night with him. Ric asked to speak with her and she ended up promising him she’d do precisely what was planned. Too late to change her mind now. She felt caught up in a juggernaut of action that had to be followed.
Listening to Mitch elicit the information he needed from Lara Chappel was another fascinating experience—a sharp legal mind at work, yet the cross-examination was done sympathetically. Kathryn wasn’t sure if this manner of his was simply clever or genuinely sincere, but she couldn’t help being impressed by Mitch Tyler’s sensitivity to others’ feelings—his humanity in a field she would have thought was driven by ego.
On the other hand, she was sure he played to win. It was unimaginable that he wouldn’t be a winner—the force of his energy overriding any opposition. If he was representing her in court, she’d have every confidence in his ability to gain whatever outcome was needed. But that was his professional life. What of his private one?
Clearly he couldn’t be living with a woman or he wouldn’t have offered her a room for the night in his home. He had a married sister and was obviously on good terms with her. No friction in his family as there was in Jeremy’s where everyone was hitting off each other, intensely competitive.
She didn’t like their habit of putting each other down. Winning meant too much to them. Though it certainly made them top performers in their fields, which was admirable. And as her mother had said, no doubt Jeremy would make a good provider as a husband.
He’d been very successful as a dealer in a merchant bank, drove a BMW Roadster, wore designer clothes, and his penthouse apartment at Pyrmont was very classy. If this next career step—becoming a partner in a very high profile financial services company—came off, he’d assured Kathryn they’d be set for life, riding high, nothing to worry about.
Except… Mitch Tyler had made her question how much Jeremy really cared about her. She’d justified his priorities in her mind, yet her heart felt oddly torn right now. Looking back over their relationship, hadn’t she been the one to make all the adjustments, all the compromises?
She came from a caring family and it was natural to her to give what was needed, to create and maintain a happy atmosphere. But if something she needed clashed with Jeremy’s ambition, his drive to be number one…would he drop everything to rescue her from a bad situation, as Ric Donato had done for Lara Chappel?
Here she was, staying with Mitch Tyler because she didn’t want to put Jeremy to that test. Because…didn’t she know in her heart he would fail it? Whereas all her instincts were telling her Mitch Tyler wouldn’t. He was like Ric in that sense. Caring with passion. Caring that knew no limits. And Kathryn found herself fiercely wanting to be the object of such caring.
‘Hungry?’ Mitch shot at her from where he stood by the fax machine, waiting for Lara Chappel’s written authorisation to act for her.
She glanced at her watch. Almost seven o’clock. Where had the time gone? ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘What are we going to do about dinner?’
‘I’ve got beef strips in the fridge, ready for a stir-fry. Won’t take long to cook.’
‘You cook?’
‘Don’t you?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but…obviously you work long hours. I thought…’ He’d be like Jeremy, preferring to eat out. Though, of course, in these circumstances, going to a public restaurant was not a good idea. It wasn’t as safe as having a private dinner…just the two of them…alone together.
Kathryn took a deep breath, trying to quell the uncomfortable sense of being disloyal to Jeremy. There was no denying Mitch Tyler was different but she shouldn’t be comparing, shouldn’t feel excited by the prospect of spending an evening with this incredibly mesmerising man.
‘I like to cook,’ he went on. ‘It’s relaxing. And I like to go home after a long day at work.’ He threw a grin at her. ‘Trust me. I’m a good cook. Though I’ll let you help if you want to.’
‘Okay.’ She smiled back, quite charmed by the idea of preparing a meal together. A harmless activity, she decided. Nothing Jeremy could criticise.
The fax came through. Mitch filed it, then arranged for a courier to take the photograph with an accompanying request for a meeting to Victor Chappel. Satisfied that he’d set the ball rolling for a successful outcome, he called a taxi and by the time he and Kathryn emerged from his chambers, the car was waiting for them.
He held the passenger door open for her and waited until she was settled in her seat before getting in beside her. Sharing the suddenly enclosed space with him instantly set Kathryn’s pulse racing. He was a big man with a heart-joltingly powerful presence, and far too attractive for her peace of mind. Feeling absurdly nervous about being with him, she fumbled with her seat belt, unable to fit it correctly into its locking slot.
‘Let me,’ he murmured, leaning over to help.
Rather than appear hopelessly inept she surrendered the task to him and instantly caught a whiff of some seductive male cologne as his face came closer to hers. She stared at his jawline, noting he had a five o’clock shadow and thinking he probably had hair on his chest, too. Would it be thick like the hair on his head, like his eyelashes?
‘There. All fastened,’ he said, the thick lashes lifting, his eyes locking onto hers, smiling eyes that simmered with warm pleasure in this simple act of looking after her, ensuring her safety.
Or was it more than that?
Her heart was galloping.
‘Thank you.’ She had to push out the words. They were barely a whisper.
‘You’re welcome,’ he answered—a reply that anyone could have made. Yet somehow it seemed to encompass the sense that she was welcome in his life. He wanted her there. And it stirred in Kathryn a disturbingly strong desire to be there, too. Which she tried to dismiss as crazy. They’d only just met today. And she was committed to spending the rest of her life with Jeremy Haynes!

Mitch forced himself to settle back in his seat before he did the unforgiveable and kissed those very kissable lips. He’d given his word that she could trust him to act honourably, so any kind of sexual contact was out. Best not to touch her. Or even get too close. He had to keep temptation at bay, concentrate on mind games. Though he didn’t want to play games with her, either. He wanted…to immerse himself in Kathryn Ledger and all that she was.
‘What’s your fiancé’s name?’ he asked, a streak of jealousy provoking him into finding out more about his rival. ‘Jeremy…?’
‘Haynes.’
Mitch had never heard of him. ‘Where do you live with him?’
‘Pyrmont. An apartment overlooking the harbour.’
The guy had money then. Which was to be expected. Kathryn was quite a high flyer herself, running Ric’s company in Sydney when he was overseas.
‘Actually, the block of apartments does have security,’ she added. ‘You need a card to get into the elevator. If you just took me home…’
‘No.’ He flashed her a commanding look. ‘Being alone is not a good idea.’
She was fiddling with her ring again, not looking at him.
Mitch cursed himself for reminding her of the man she planned to marry. ‘I promised Ric I’d take care of you, Kathryn,’ he quickly pressed.
She shook her head slightly, heaved a sigh, then ruefully conceded, ‘And I promised him I’d go with you.’
‘Is that such a hardship?’ he half-mocked.
She grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. I guess I sound ungracious. It’s very kind of you to offer me the hospitality of your home.’
‘It’s not about kindness, Kathryn,’ he whipped in, hating the remote politeness of her words.
‘I know.’ She flashed a wry glance at him. ‘It would be easier if you were more…’
‘More what? I’ll try to oblige,’ he promised, attempting to tease her out of her withdrawal.
‘Older, fatherly, ugly, or just plain obnoxious,’ she threw at him in an exasperated rush.
His heart danced with sheer joy. She was admitting an attraction. Beyond any doubt now. A wicked grin broke out. ‘I can certainly be obnoxious if it will make you feel more comfortable.’
She laughed, a nervous little gurgle. ‘I don’t think play-acting will do it. In fact…’ Her eyes were seriously curious. ‘…I’d like you to tell me about yourself. Your family. You mentioned a married sister.’
She wants to know me.
Normally Mitch didn’t talk about his personal background. Who he was now—a barrister building a formidable reputation with every court appearance—seemed sufficient in itself for most people. If it wasn’t, he simply declined to give out information that was none of their business. Yet it was different with Kathryn. He only had this one night to forge a bond that would hopefully overshadow whatever she had with her fiancé.
So he told her about Jenny, how she’d taken on the responsibility of caring for their disabled mother after their father had deserted them, how they’d managed on a social services pension, supplemented by handcrafts done by his mother and whatever Mitch could earn from a paper-boy run and cleaning cars—any jobs he could get after school hours. Tutoring had paid well, when he’d got older.
They’d been a tight-knit little family. Jenny had eventually trained as a nurse and married a doctor who currently had a practice at Gosford, on the Central Coast. Their mother had died of a stroke soon after the wedding, six years ago. Jenny now had a son and a daughter, both beautiful children.
He didn’t mention the rape or the assault that had taken him to Gundamurra. That was deeply private, both to him and Jenny. Neither of them ever spoke of it. She’d moved past it, was happy in her life, and Mitch was content with that. Though he’d never forget it himself. One day he might tell Kathryn…if they ever reached that point of intimacy.
The taxi pulled up in front of his house. Woollahra was an old suburb of Sydney, fashionable now because of its proximity to the city centre, but most of the houses were of terrace construction, as they were in Surry Hills which had been considered almost a slum area with very cheap rentals in his boyhood. Though that had changed, too, for the same reason—close to the CBD, renovations upgrading the real estate.

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