LITMIR.BIZ

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streak sprang from desperation rather than temperament.

      ‘I won’t tell your Dad, Lisa,’ she assured her softly and saw relief flood the girl’s face. ‘Are you serious about this guy?’

      ‘I don’t know. I think so. I mean, Todd’s the nicest guy I’ve ever met.’

      ‘What does your father think of him?’

      Lisa gave a bitter laugh and shrugged her shoulders.

      ‘He doesn’t approve of him, but I don’t care what he thinks. It has nothing to do with him.’

      Alessandra finished towelling herself off and pulled her T-shirt on over the maillot she wore.

      ‘Well, if dinner is to be ready on time, we’d better get a move on back to the house.’ She handed the younger girl her clothes. ‘I’ve got a deal with your old man that I’ll oversee your cooking if he agrees to let me work with the hands around the ranch.’

      ‘You’re kidding! Daddy has agreed to let you work with the cattle?’

      ‘Once I prove I can tell one end of a horse from the other. What’s so surprising about that?’

      ‘My father firmly believes, “Ladies do not belong around cowhands, corrals or bars! Nor do they smoke, swear or drink beer!” And that has been quoted to me from the time I was in the cradle!’ Lisa said.

      Alessandra struggled to contain a grin. She could just imagine Bart Cameron saying the words.

      ‘Lucky for me I don’t smoke. Uh, Lisa?’

      

      Bart Cameron entered the house to the sound of uncontrollable laughter coming from the kitchen. Lisa? Heck, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her without a surly look on her face, let alone heard her laugh.

      ‘Of course the guy could hardly believe the fact that little old pint-sized me had tossed him over my shoulder and sat him on his ars——’

      ‘Good evening, ladies.’

      Both Lisa and Alessandra swung around at the heavy tone of the male voice. Alessandra noted the sudden change in Lisa’s expression.

      ‘I was just telling Lisa about the time a guy tried to pick me up on a train.’

      ‘Yes. I heard the rather graphic description,’ Bart said curtly. His tone made the younger girl cringe. ‘Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner, Lisa?’

      ‘Umm…’ The girl looked at Alessandra for an answer.

      ‘Sure, but quick is the operative word. Another ten minutes and I won’t guarantee that the chicken won’t be ruined!’

      Bart seemed about to say something, but changed his mind and merely nodded before leaving the room.

      ‘Well he can certainly kill a party just by his presence!’ Alessandra remarked.

      ‘He’s in a bad mood,’ Lisa confided. ‘I can tell.’

      ‘That’s a relief, I’d hate to think he was that bloody unpleasant every evening after work! Set the table, would you, Lisa?’

      A phone call interrupted the meal almost as soon as the three sat down to the table. It was for Bart, and with obvious reluctance he pushed his plate of spicy chicken aside and went to take the call. Lisa and Alessandra enjoyed a light-hearted conversation which, although it never rested on one subject for long, revealed a lot about the younger girl to Alessandra, parts of it touching a wound she’d thought long healed.

      ‘Sorry about that,’ Bart said, returning to the dining-room just as the others were finishing the last of their meals. ‘Business that couldn’t wait. Don’t feel you have to keep me company while I eat,’ he said with more generosity than he felt. He loathed eating his evening meal alone. It reminded him all too much of the lonely time immediately after Kathleen’s death, before Lisa had been old enough to sit alongside the table in a highchair.

      He looked across at his child’s classically beautiful face and was again reminded of her mother. Kathleen had been barely four months older than Lisa was now when she’d died. For years he’d feared his daughter might have inherited not only her mother’s beauty but also the asthma which claimed her young life. Fortunately Lisa had been spared that.

      Alessandra was sensitive to the awkward silence drenching the atmosphere and wondered if anyone else noticed. Bart didn’t appear interested in generating any small talk, and Lisa, although looking uncomfortable, seemed reluctant to move. Suspecting the teenager was anxious to discuss something with her father, Alessandra politely excused herself. Taking an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, she let herself out into the warm night air.

      She located a log, beneath a huge tree of indeterminable age, and sat down in the night’s dark peace. Propping her elbows on her knees, she cradled her chin, looking out in the direction of the legendary Black Stump. In the blackness, all she saw was a network of twinkling lights stretching for miles. Whoever had written the song about the stars in Texas being big and bright had missed out on the magic of sitting beneath Australia’s Southern Cross. Here the stars were bigger and brighter than anywhere in the world, including the heart of Texas!

      But she frowned even as the famous tune played in her head. Actually, she was in danger of taking a particular Texan too much to heart. With no encouragement from him at all, she was more than a little interested in Mr Bart Cameron.

      There was something about the man that stirred up the three years of dust which had settled on her sensuality. He, of course, didn’t appear to be even remotely attracted to her, and she had to admit this was understandable, considering they had next to nothing in common. So why did he hold such an attraction for her?

      Bart Cameron was staid and conservative to the point of being almost boring. She, on the other hand, was what her brothers described as a ‘radical extrovert, who bordered on fruitcake’! So why was she so drawn to the cowboy? Maybe it was the flashes of loneliness she caught glimpses of from time to time, but, if that was the case, then surely what she was feeling hinged on pity? No, Bart Cameron created a lot of different feelings within her, but pity definitely wasn’t one of them!

      Just roll with the punches and see what happens, she told herself.

      After all, she wasn’t the type for coy games when it came to the opposite sex; five brothers had taught her that men preferred women who were honest about their feelings, and subtlety definitely wasn’t one of her strong points.

      Rising, she took a healthy bite of the apple she’d been absently polishing against the leg of her jeans, and ambled off in the direction of the corrals: Eventually her feet led her into the stables.

      Only four horses were housed in the building—the stallion she’d seen Bart grooming and three others. She was instantly drawn to a magnificently proportioned chestnut.

      ‘Well, aren’t you a beauty, fella?’ she whispered, reaching a steady hand towards him. The animal whinnied aggressively, taking a step backwards.

      ‘Easy, mate. I’m not going to hurt you.’ She edged nearer, aware of the uneasy brightness in the animal’s eyes. ‘Steady, boy…You’re a beautiful fella, aren’t you…hey?’ Again the horse loudly protested her presence. It was as he turned sideways that Alessandra noticed he’d been gelded.

      ‘No wonder you’re angry. What sort of stupid moron wouldn’t want to use you for stud purposes? Well, don’t you worry, handsome…this is one female who thinks you’re perfect just the way you are…’

      The muscular horse raised himself on to his hind legs, exhaled a hysterical snicker, and lunged at the gate that separated them. In the blink of an eye she was forced savagely against the wall on the opposite side of the long narrow building and shaken by the forearms.

      ‘Are you completely stupid?’ Bart demanded to know.

      ‘I will be if you keep pounding

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