A Wife At Kimbara. Margaret WayЧитать онлайн книгу.
possessed such sexual magnetism he could easily attract a woman half his age. If it weren’t so damned likely it would be funny. Women couldn’t resist power and money. Especially not adventuresses.
He’d have to find out a little bit more about Miss Rebecca Hunt, he decided. She was remarkably close lipped about her past though he knew from the blurb on the back of the recent biography she’d been born in Sydney in 1973. That made her twenty-seven. Three years younger than he. The rest went on to list the not inconsiderable achievements of her short career.
She had been named Young Journalist of the year at the age of twenty-four. She’d worked with the Australian Broadcasting Commission, SBS and Channel 9. Two years with the British Press. A book of interviews with the rich and famous. The diva’s biography. Now Aunt Fee.
Next to nothing about her private life, though. It might have been as blank as a nun’s only Miss Rebecca Hunt behind the cool facade was so absolutely fascinating she couldn’t have escaped at least a few sexual encounters. If she was footloose it had to be by choice. Was she waiting for the right man? Charming, clever, rich and powerful.
Most people thought Stewart Kinross was just that, until little bits of him occasionally seeped out. The ego, the self-centeredness, the caustic tongue. But when he set out to, Brod had to admit, his father could be dazzling. A young woman like Miss Rebecca Hunt was bound to be socially ambitious. If she took on his father she would get more than she bargained for, the conniving little witch. He almost felt a stab of pity.
No, he didn’t want to go, he told himself, suddenly realising he wanted to go very much.
CHAPTER TWO
REBECCA was standing on the upstairs balcony looking out over Kimbara’s magnificent home gardens when Stewart Kinross finally tracked her down, as purposefully as a hunter tracks his quarry.
“Ah, there you are, my dear,” he smiled indulgently, as he moved to join her at the balustrade. “A bit of news I thought you might like to hear.”
She swung to face him, so lovely he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Then let’s hear it!” Rebecca responded brightly, shying away from the thought her host had taken quite a fancy to her. A thought too embarrassing to pursue. For all his wealth, suavity and charm, Stewart Kinross was of an age with her father. Not that a man as rich and handsome as that couldn’t get just about any woman he wanted. But not her. Involvement, even with a man her own age wasn’t an option. Peace of body, mind and heart were too important. Yet Stewart Kinross was looking at her delightedly out of grey-green eyes.
“I’ve organised one of my famous polo weekends for your enjoyment,” he told her, realising she was making him feel younger with every passing day. “The Matches will be followed by a gala ball, Saturday night with a big breakfast cum brunch in the garden Sunday morning through to noon. After that our guests like to get off home. Most fly, some make the overland trek.
“It sounds exciting.” Rebecca struggled a little to sound enthusiastic. In truth her heart was thumping though none of her disquiet showed in her face. “I’ve never actually attended a polo match.”
“Why do you think I’ve organised this weekend?” he chuffed, his handsome mouth curving beneath a full, beautifully clipped moustache. “I overheard you telling Fee.”
She felt a sudden loss of safety. Stewart Kinross for all his charm was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. It would be a disaster if he wanted something from her she couldn’t possibly provide. “You’re very kind to me, Stewart,” she managed to say. “You and Fiona,” she stressed. “I do appreciate it.”
“You’re very easy to be kind to, my dear.” He tried to keep the feeling out of his voice but failed. “And you’re making Fee so happy with what you’re doing with her book.”
“Fee has a fascinating story to tell.” Rebecca turned slightly away from him, leaning her slender body against the white wrought-iron balustrade. “She knows everyone who’s anyone in the English theatre as well as so many powerful international figures. There’s just so much subject matter. An abundance of it.”
“Fee has lived a full life,” he agreed somewhat dryly. “She’s a born actress as is my daughter, Alison.”
His voice was surprisingly cool for a proud father.
“Yes, I’ve seen her many times on television,” Rebecca said admiringly. “Some of the episodes have been remarkably affecting because of the wonderful quality of her acting. She brings her character, the country doctor, to such life. I’d love to meet her.”
“I don’t think you’ll see Alison back here.” He sighed with evident regret. “She’s well and truly settled in Sydney. She rarely comes home on a visit. Then, I sometimes think, it’s only to see Brod not the father she’s almost forgotten.”
Rebecca looked at him more sympathetically.
“How can that be? I’m sure she misses you. Being the star of a top rating television series must put a lot of pressure on her. I imagine she has very little free time.”
“Alison was raised in the Outback,” Stewart Kinross said his expression judgemental. “On Kimbara which if I say so myself is a magnificent inheritance. She has no need to work.”
“You can’t mean you’d deny her a career?” Rebecca was taken aback.
“Of course not.” He took his cue from her tone. “But Alison made a lot of people unhappy when she left. Not the least the man who loved and trusted her. Rafe Cameron.”
“Ah the Camerons.” Rebecca remembered all the stories she’d heard. “I researched their family history at the same time I was researching yours. Two great pioneering families. Legends of the Outback.”
He accepted her accolade as though she were speaking directly about him. “Our families have always been very close. It was my dearest wish Alison would marry Rafe. A splendid young man. But she chose an acting career just like Fee. I’m telling you because you’ll be meeting Rafe at the polo. I’ve scheduled it for the weekend after next.
“Rafe will never forgive, never forget what Alison did to him and even as Alison’s father I don’t blame him. Rafe is Brod’s best friend, I think a good steadying influence on him. Brod is a rebel, which you might have gathered. Has been since his childhood. A pity because it makes for a lot of friction between us.”
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca responded. “Will he be coming for your weekend?”
“He’s certainly been invited.” Stewart Kinross looked away over her head. “But Brod likes to keep me begging. The thing is he’s needed to captain the opposing team. At least he inherited his prowess from me. I expect I’ll hear from him at his leisure. I’m very keen for this to go well, Rebecca. I want you to enjoy your time out here as much as possible.”
“It’s wonderful to be here, Stewart,” Rebecca said, her heart sinking at the look in his eyes.
“What would you say to a ride this afternoon.” He put his hand on her arm leading her back into the house lest she escape him.
“That would be lovely, Stewart,” she responded, careful to inject a note of regret, “but Fiona has need of me. We’re really moving along with the book.”
He bowed his handsome head powerfully, protectively over her. “My dear, you can’t refuse me. I can do some persuading when I have to. I’ll set it straight with Fee and you and I can take the horses out. It’s wonderful you ride so well. I want you to look on your time with us as part work part vacation.”
“Thank you, Stewart,” Rebecca murmured, feeling trapped and somehow ungrateful as well. Stewart Kinross had been the kindest and most considerate of hosts. Perhaps her early experiences had left her a bit paranoid.
In the early evening Broderick Kinross rang. As it happened Rebecca was passing through the hallway so she backtracked