Mistaken Mistress Page 10

  “Lang’s pet project,” Owen told her as they drove along the spectacular coast road. “The centrepiece is the golf course. Japanese tourists love our golf courses and all our space. We had a top designer.” He named a world-famous Australian golfer. “The course is almost completed. The clubhouse is up. Stunning if I say so myself. There will be luxury-built homes, villas, cottages. Most of them have been snapped up from the plan. I’ve left this one to Lang. He’s absolutely first rate. A lot better than I am at handling people. Knows everyone just as everyone knows him. Goes along with being the scion of a great pioneering family.”

  “He did say he’d take me along on his next trip to Marella Downs.”

  “No kidding— Oh, you’ll enjoy that!” Owen said, clearly pleased Lang had issued an invitation. “His mother is a lovely woman. You’ll like Georgia, too, and her husband. Nice bloke. Lang worked like the very devil to buy back the farm. When I think about it, he doesn’t get a whole lot of relaxation. Or a life of his own. He’s only thirty-two. I forget sometimes. He’s so mature about everything he could have lived a lifetime. When I first met him he was absolutely driven to see his family back where they belonged. His mother especially. He adores her.”

  “It’s a wonder he isn’t married,” Eden said quietly. “Or engaged. He’s a marvellous catch.”

  “Darn right!” Owen gave her a sidelong glance. “The young women around here surely know that. Lang’s had his affairs along the way,” Owen laughed. “He’s definitely not a monk.”

  “What about this Lara, Delma keeps talking about?”

  Owen snorted. “Talk. That’s all it is as far as I know. Delma and Lara get along very well, that’s all. They both serve on local committees. Lara’s father owns a beef cattle stud. Brahmins. The Brahmin is at the forefront of beef cattle production up here in the tropics. There were many areas of the Outback where the British breeds couldn’t survive. The Brahmins can. Hansen is a wealthy man. His father was one of the first to realise the great role the Brahmin had in the tropics. Lara is his only child.”

  “What’s she like?” Eden asked, looking away from a scarlet silk-cotton tree alive with lorikeets after the nectar.

  “Not a patch on you, sweetheart,” Owen teased.

  “You’re biased.”

  “Put out a bulletin,” Owen cried. “No, Lara is a very attractive and confident young woman,” he continued slowly. “A bit uppity for my liking. Occasionally an outright snob, which you’ll find Lang never is.”

  “And Lara was one of Lang’s affairs?”

  Owen gave his daughter another searching glance. “You’re very interested, my darling.”

  She blushed. “Of course I am. Lang’s your partner.”

  “Have you got your eye on him?” Owen questioned, sounding interested and happy at the thought.

  “You sound like you’d be pleased?”

  “You bet I would!” Owen continued emphatically. “I have the greatest liking and respect for Lang. He’s everything I wasn’t.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Dad.” Eden touched her father’s arm. “We’ve found one another. I’m so happy.”

  Owen’s deeply tanned face was full of light. “I don’t want you to ever go back. You know that.”

  “It wouldn’t work out, Dad,” Eden gently said.

  “It’s Delma, isn’t it?”

  Eden flinched at the hardness of his tone. “Why, no! Don’t think that for a minute. Delma is being very nice to me. There’s the party tomorrow night. She’s worked so hard to make it a success.”

  “Delma’s good at that sort of thing,” Owen said. “What she’s not good at is opening up her heart. I couldn’t bear it for her to chase you away.”

  “You’re over-reacting, Dad.” Eden hoped her protest wasn’t overdone. “It’s just I have a career. Even if it is on hold.”

  “But, my darling, if that’s all it is I could get you into one of our top legal firms tomorrow. If you want a place of your own, I can find you one. Build it, for that matter. Whatever you say.”

  “Let me think about it, Dad.” It came out as a soft plea.

  “Sure, sweetheart. But please remember I desperately want to make it up to you for all the lost years.”

  Eden, the nature lover, was deriving enormous pleasure from her environment, the lush vegetation, the mix of spectacular trees, indigenous and exotic, the shrubs and palms that gave the tropics its distinct character. Twenty minutes later they were driving into the country club development, verdantly green and close to the water. As a setting it was brilliant, offering beautiful vistas. Eden looked quietly from side to side privately thinking the project was immense. It fronted onto the turquoise sea with miles and miles of pristine white beach. The eighteen-hole course seemed to go on forever. She could see lakes and bunkers taking shape, the vast body of emerald rolling turf that would make up the fairways and smooth greens. Beautiful towering native gums had been preserved not only for aesthetic considerations but to provide shade for the spectators who would come to see the world-famous players in action. Further back in the lee of a small hill was a magnificent copse of magnolia grandiflora in full flower.

  Owen parked the car outside the clubhouse, asking one of the workmen if he knew where Mr. Forsyth was.

  The man signalled with his hand and a tip of his baseball cap; Lang was in the clubhouse.

  “Come on in, darling.” Owen took her arm. “I didn’t come out here during my convalescence. Now I can see things are moving along at a great rate. Not a darn thing died, you know. Not those massive date palms flanking the front gates, both replanted, many many small exotic trees. Everything has thrived despite a few worries about initial shock.”

  “And the hibiscus!” Eden exclaimed, her enchanted gaze resting on hundreds of boldly coloured shrubs that were like brilliant flashes of light. They had been planted all around the perimeter of the classic all-white two-story clubhouse. The size of the flowers alone was fantastic.

  With a sense of excitement she accompanied her father into the cool spacious interior, admiring the polished timber flooring and the divided staircase.

  They were halfway across the spacious foyer when Lang appeared at the top of the first landing accompanied by a big arresting-looking man of obvious Mediterranean heritage. The man was carrying a sheaf of files, his voice audible as he carried on his conversation with Lang. Both of them were speaking beautiful, velvety, musical Italian.

  The man switched to English immediately he caught sight of them. “Owen, my friend. ¡Buongiorno! How good it is to see you!” He moved swiftly down the stairs, black eyes sparkling. “You look so much fitter than the last time I saw you. In fact, my friend, you look wonderful and full of happiness.”

  The two men, much of age, went directly into a bear hug, having developed a long and close friendship over the years.

  “If I do it’s because of this young woman,” Owen said, turning to Eden with evident love and pride. “Eden, this is my great friend and our chief architect for the building development, Bruno Canturi. Bruno, this is my beautiful Eden I’ve told you about. We’ve been parted for all of her young life but we’ll never be parted again.”

  Bruno gave her a swift appreciative assessment. “¡Molto bella! i vegle occhi! The beautiful eyes.” He bent over Eden’s hand. “One must hold on to these wonderful moments. Life can be so full of heartbreak. I am very happy to meet you at last, Eden. My wife and I wouldn’t miss your coming home party for the world.”

  “I’m so glad you’re coming,” Eden responded instantly to his charm. “The clubhouse is very fine,” she said, looking around her with sincere admiration.

  Lang, having held back, now joined them. “Bruno is the finest architect in this part of the world,” he said, clapping one hand to Bruno’s broad shoulder. “Without doubt one of the top men in the country.”

  “I can see that.” Eden smiled. “I love what you’ve done already, Mr. Canturi. Your design embodies the whole ambience of the
tropics.”

  “Grazie.” The architect looked pleased. “But you must call me Bruno, I can’t have a beautiful young woman calling me Mister.”

  “Then it’s Bruno,” Eden said with a charmed expression.

  Owen, eyes smiling, spoke warmly. “If you have a few minutes, Bruno, I’d like to talk. Lang keeps me up to date on all developments but I’d like to hear and listen to what you’ve got to say. Everything looks to be well ahead of schedule?”

  “A lot of work must be completed before the rains.” Bruno gave the small warning. “But, yes, Lang and I are very happy with the progress so far.”

  “Why don’t I show Eden around while you two have your talk,” Lang suggested, giving Eden his total attention.

  “Great idea.” Owen smiled over his shoulder at his partner.

  “Shall we start with the grounds?” Lang asked Eden smoothly, a curve to his generous chisel-edged mouth.

  “I’d enjoy that.” She inclined her dark head. “Will you be here when we get back, Bruno?” she asked.

  “Molto piacere, but my days are too short!” Bruno exclaimed, one hand extravagantly on his heart. “But we are so looking forward to your party.”

  “So am I!” Eden’s fine delicate features lit with unfeigned pleasure. “Ciao!”

  “Ciao!” Owen and Bruno responded together.

  They were out in the brilliant sunshine and Lang immediately asked, “Where’s your hat?”

  “It’s a long time since anyone has had to check up on me.” She tipped her face to gently mock him.

  “I’m only trying to protect your beautiful skin. Surely you bought one?”

  “Yes, I did. The last thing I want to do is invoke your displeasure.”

  “Really?” He gave her a lazy smile laced with some inner amusement.

  They had reached Owen’s car. Eden opened the rear door and removed her hat with its wide floppy brim.

  “Put it on,” he ordered briefly.

  She gave a helpless little shrug. “Have you decided to play big brother?” She settled the hat on her head.

  “What do you think?” His silver eyes were brilliant, taking possession of her in their slow scrutiny. “Now that’s what I call a beautiful hat. Functional, too. Women should wear big romantic hats more often. You look like you’ve stepped out of a painting.” His smile tautened.

  Beneath the creamy curving brim of her hat decorated with full-blown pink and cream roses, her eyes glowed with a blue-violet fire. Today she wore her hair full and loose the way he especially liked it. It fell heavy and shining about her shoulders, the dark silky strands reflecting light. If he’d spoken love’s language instead of hiding forever behind secure and intricate defences he’d tell her he’d found her unforgettable since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. But then that would have exposed the follies and obsessions of the heart.

  “Why don’t we take the buggy?” he suggested, guiding her towards a golf buggy parked in the shade of a billowing golden cane. “It’s quite a distance we’ll be covering.”

  Eden allowed herself to be led away, realising with some trepidation she was falling in love with this man. It was too easy to see why. Probably she would meet a few of Lang’s ex-girlfriends at the party. She knew for a fact Delma had invited her friend, Lara, whom she seemed to view as faultless….

  “I don’t understand how Lang has waited so long to pop the question,” Delma had confided, rolling her eyes. “They make a great couple. Both from landed families, of course.”

  Of course.

  “How are you getting on with Delma?” Lang asked as if he were reading her mind. It brought her out of her slight reverie.

  “Fine,” she said brightly. “Delma’s making every effort to make my party a big success. I do appreciate it.”

  The sun glanced across his carved cheekbones. “Delma has a lot of experience in that direction. I’m asking more on a personal basis.”

  “What do you want me to say, Lang? I know Delma is your friend.”

  “And you aren’t?” He started up the buggy, taxiing it onto the driveway.

  “Maybe the next best thing.” She spoke quietly, looking away across the sweeping vistas and shining man-made lakes.

  “Which is?” He cast her a slashing glance, lightning-quick.

  “Owen’s daughter,” she shrugged.

  He digested that in silence, then observed, “You’ve succeeded in making him very very happy. Whatever else he’s been, Owen hasn’t been a happy man. An impressive man and a brilliant entrepreneur, but there’s always been this great sadness at the heart of him. Now that’s all over.”

  “It’s over for me, too,” she answered slowly. “In some strange way, I’ve been yearning for a true father all of my life.”

  “But now you’ve found him, you don’t intend to stay with him? That is what he so desperately wants.”

  A whole world of regret flashed through her. “As I told Dad, it wouldn’t work out.”

  His expression tightened. “I hope there was no hint Delma was to blame?”

  “Of course there wasn’t!” She flashed him a look of sudden anger, her camellia skin deepening with a flush. “Now why would you say that? No, hang on a minute. Of course you’d say it. You’ve been programmed not to trust me.”

  He turned his head fully to confront her. “I really can’t agree with that, Eden. It’s just that I have the terrible feeling Owen would choose you over Delma every time.”

  It was so much her own fear she over-reacted. “Please don’t be so absurd. Dad wouldn’t do that. It would be unbelievably cruel.”

  “Are you so sure?” he questioned in a dark-tinged voice.

  “I would hope he would never do that. Marriage is sacred. I’ve seen too many lives destroyed when it hasn’t been regarded as a sacrament.”

  “So you empathize with Delma?”

  “Of course I do.” Her heart was hammering. “She’s had a rough deal. And I’m a woman, too.”

  “A very fascinating one.” He sighed as though that alone presented an insurmountable problem.

  “I wish you were a kinder man.” She half turned her body to look off to the sequin-splashed blue sea.

  “What then? Would you have an affair with me?”

  Her blood pressure soared. “I don’t have affairs I’m afraid.”

  “You must be due for one,” he said. “Not a silly little affair. A grand passion.”

  “You must think I’m starved of affection.”

  He filled his eyes with her beauty, her natural fragrance an intoxicant. His own heart was pumping fast.

  “If you were, it doesn’t show. What does show is your very fastidious, look-but-don’t-touch virginal air.”

  The air around them was aromatic with morning and the scent of the sea. “How extraordinary you should think that. I’ve led the normal life of a successful professional woman.”

  “So you’ve had your love affairs?” He flickered a shining glance.

  “That happens.” She wouldn’t look at him. “I have to tell you, Lang, I don’t usually answer questions like this.”

  “But then you and I were thrown headfirst into some form of intimacy.”

  “I suppose it is a bit like that.”

  Moments passed. Fraught moments, when neither seemed inclined to continue.

  “Let’s get out and walk for a while,” he said abruptly, steering the buggy towards a stand of eucalypts.

  “Fine by me.” At this point the best thing she could do was put a little distance between them. Her emotions were cranked up enough. Around him they were running mad. She suspected she would always feel particularly vulnerable around him. As soon as he brought the golf buggy to a halt she slipped out of her seat, making towards the beautiful stand of eucalypts that created such light and shade. It was very hot, the surrounding areas of green bathed in an immense pool of golden sunlight. She was wearing a cool rose-pink cotton sundress with a full skirt and spaghetti straps but still she could feel t
he beads of perspiration gathering between her breasts.

  “What’s the hurry?” He caught her up with his purposeful, elegant stride. “You’ll have to learn not to rush around in the heat.”

  “I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” She wanted to push him away. She wanted him to touch her. “After all Brisbane is subtropical.”

  “You seem upset?” He bent his sleek, dark head to study her face beneath the curving brim of her hat.

  “You’re not a comfortable person to be around, Lang.” The tension in her throat made it hard to swallow.

  “Well,” he said, almost nonchalantly. “I am to most people. I admit we have a few problems.”

  That was it! The two of them. “I’m astonished you could admit to having a problem.” She struggled to keep her cool but between the heat of the sun and the blood heat his presence generated she was fighting a losing battle. “But then, you’re very macho, aren’t you? Very assertive and aggressive.”

  “Hey, hang on.” His lean strong hand folded onto her bare shoulder. “Next you’ll be telling me you dislike me intensely.”

  “It wouldn’t be difficult,” she burst out. Only it was too easy to fall in love with him.

  He removed his hand in silence. “I think you’ve got many reasons for finding me…difficult…” he answered. “It wouldn’t take a Freud to trace it back to our first meeting. I deeply regret having misjudged you, Eden. On the other hand I found your secrecy somewhat intolerable.”

  She experienced a keen sense of hurt that showed in her eyes.

  “But you knew the reason.”

  “And I’m forced to accept it. You can’t let your father run your life, that’s all.”

  She pushed her riotously curly hair from her flushed face. “So it’s Dad now?”

  “Don’t misunderstand me. In Owen’s eyes you’re his most perfect creation.”