Chapter 16
16
D ylan sat on the verandah, enjoying the cool night air. Being at Budgeree never failed to invigorate him, every sound and scent wrapping him in a comforting familiarity.
He’d grown up here, sticking close to his dad, learning the ins and outs of the business his dad valued more than life itself. Until Dylan had matured, or so he thought at the time.
Had it been maturity that urged him to abandon his family to spread his wings, traipsing around the world in search of the next best thing? Surprisingly, it had been under his nose all along, but he failed to recognise it.
And his selfishness had killed his dad in the process.
“Feel like some company?”
He looked up at Sam and bit back his first retort of ‘not really’. Funnily enough, she fitted in around here, and it surprised him. It wasn’t her worn jeans, denim shirts, or leather boots that gave that impression; instead, it was a feeling, an instinct that she genuinely belonged in this isolated countryside.
He gestured at the rocking chair. “Have a seat.”
She settled into the chair, the creaking wood reminding him of nights long ago when he used to perch on his mother’s lap and she’d tell him wonderful stories about bunyips and wombats while the night sounds of hooting owls and wheezing possums lulled him to sleep.
“You look like you’re doing some serious thinking,” she said, her tone tentative, as if she didn’t want to intrude.
“Rehashing old memories.”
He gazed at the growing darkness, wishing it didn’t feel so damn comfortable to be sitting here with her. He didn’t want to feel this way about Sam. She’d be out of his life sooner rather than later and he’d had enough of losing people who mattered to him.
“Are you. sure I’m not intruding?”
He heard the vulnerability in her voice and wished they had met in another time, another place. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, no matter how wonderful the woman.
Besides, he had enough responsibilities with the family and his dad’s legacy, and he could never shirk them.
Look what happened the last time he’d done that.
“No, it’s nice to have company out here. Usually I’m on my own.”
“Not that you seem bothered by that,” she said. “I get the feeling you’re a bit of a loner.”
“Psychoanalysing me again, Samantha?”
She chuckled, the light sound eliciting an almost visceral response as his gut twisted with longing.
Damn, he had it bad. Though he’d done his best to keep their relationship strictly platonic, he couldn’t forget the few forbidden kisses they’d shared or the way she’d responded to him.
It has been the reason he invited Ebony out here, to act as some sort of Edwardian chaperone. Unfortunately, that plan had backfired as the wayward Ebony seemed to delight in taunting him, and throwing him and Sam together as much as possible.
Though he’d known Sam had worked for the Larkins, he had no idea the two girls were such firm friends. One woman ganging up on him at a time was more than enough.
“You’re too complicated to figure out. Besides, why should I bother?” Her smile lit her eyes. She was one of few people he knew who smiled like that, with her whole face and not just an upward movement of her lips.
“Aren’t you up for the challenge?” He asked, knowing he shouldn’t spar with her but unable to resist.
A gradual warmth started in the vicinity of his chest and spread outward, making his insides do strange things as he contemplated the ways in which he would like to challenge her.
Starting with more eager responses from her luscious lips…
“I thrive on a challenge. Thought you’d have figured that out by now.” She fixed him with an indescribable stare from her cat-like eyes. “After all, I work for you, don’t I?”
He laughed, a genuine deep chuckle that echoed through the ghost gums. It felt good. In fact, it felt downright wonderful, and he wondered how long since this place had been privy to laughter. “Touché, Miss Piper.”
She rocked gently, her toes pushing against the floor, the rhythmic action as soothing as her presence. “Tell me about your life here.”
Surprised at her swift change of subject, he gave her the edited version. “Budgeree’s thousand acres was the first tract of land my dad bought here. Though he expanded the business over the years, this place held a special place in our hearts.”
He paused, ignoring the stab of guilt that memories of his father and his love of the land always seemed to ignite within him. “Still does.”
“Family means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
Her innocuous question unerringly homed in on his emotions whenever he sat in this very place and surveyed the property that would belong to the Harmon’s for generations to come.
“Family is everything.”
“But don’t you ever feel stifled? Or need to run away?”
He heard something in her voice that made him look up, but when he studied her face, the serene expression hadn’t altered, though she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Never. Shirking responsibilities is for children.” He scowled, speaking from personal experience. “Or cowards.”
Sam’s heart sank at Dylan’s cold, curt words.
What would he think of her if he knew the truth, that she was one of those cowards he’d mentioned with such antipathy and loathing?
She responded more sharply than intended. “Not everyone is cut out for shouldering the burdens of their family.”
He pinned her with a stare that took her breath away: intense, probing, willing her to listen. “I wouldn’t consider family expectations a burden. How about you?”
He trapped her. She couldn’t tell him yet another lie, not when she lived a lie every day.
“Everyone’s family is different. Maybe I’m not ready to shoulder what my family expects me to?”
“Is that why you ran away?”
Ouch. He knew how to kick a girl when she was down.
She instilled as much calm into her voice as she could muster before answering. “I applied for a job working as your butler. How could that be classed as running away?”
He shrugged, the simple action that drew her attention to his broad shoulders encased beneath a cable knit, and speeding up her pulse in the process.
“Call it a hunch. Even though you said you needed the experience before branching into the business world, I still don’t understand why you’d want to work for someone like me in such a subservient role.”
“We’re not all meant to be rulers in this world.”
She wished her family understood that sentiment and would allow her to denounce her heritage.
Because that’s exactly what her family expected her to be; a rich, pampered princess to sit upon a pretend throne and order those around her to do her bidding.
Hell would freeze over before she succumbed to their wishes.
“Are you judging me for what I have and what I do?” His dark eyes didn’t waver as his stare bored into her soul.
She hated the icy contempt in his voice. If he only knew she hadn’t referred to the Harmon’s, but her illustrious Popov family, the masters of expectation.
She stood, eager to escape before she said something she might regret. “I’m not judging anybody. Goodnight, Dylan. See you in the morning.”
She walked away without looking back, clamping down on the urge to run from his all-to-seeing stare.