A Millionaire For Molly

‘Yes. But she’s someone you have an arrangement with.’

‘I did have an arrangement with her,’ he said honestly, and watched her face. Her displeasure grew.

‘You mean you haven’t now?’

‘No.’

‘Can I ask why not?’

‘I think that’s my business.’

She rose, matriarchal in her annoyance. ‘Then I’m not prepared to sell you my property. The arrangement was that I’d meet your intended.’

‘I don’t have an intended.’ He spread his hands. ‘There’s only me.’

Where the hell was Molly?

He managed a smile and decided honesty was the best policy here. His precious privacy could take a back seat.

‘Hannah, Cara is my half-sister,’ he told her. ‘She and I had arranged to share your farm, but she’s fallen in love with a Frenchman. So I’m alone. I love this place, and I’m prepared to look after it as you’d want it looked after. But I can’t give more than that. I can’t claim relationships that won’t happen.’

The old lady stared at him in bewilderment, and Jackson thought she could decide either way.

But then Roger Francis appeared at the door.

‘What is it?’ Clearly Hannah had no time for the smart lawyer and she was seriously displeased. ‘Have you heard anything from Miss Farr?’

‘Where’s Molly?’ For the first time Jackson voiced his thought. His brows clipped together. The agreement was that she’d be here well before him. Hell, if she didn’t even come…

‘I’m sorry.’ Roger Francis spread his hands in helpless anger. ‘Of all the inept… Mr Baird, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I should never have let you look at this property in the first place.’

‘What is it?’

‘Your realtor has taken off for her honeymoon-taking your contract and your titles with her.’

Silence. The silence went on for so long that it became jarring. Miss Copeland stared her displeasure at both of them, and Roger Francis coughed and stole a glance out of the window, avoided looking at Jackson. As well he might. Jackson’s face was stony and remote-like chiselled granite.

‘What happened?’ he asked at last, and Roger spoke again. Too fast.

‘She rang from the airport a couple of hours ago. I tried to catch you before you left Sydney but your mobile must have been switched off. So now I have to tell you. The phone call was from your Miss Farr… She sounded giggly and apologetic and altogether too foolish for words. It seems this Michael arrived last night with tickets to Hayman Island for himself, Molly and the boy. And plans for their marriage. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and, as she said, it’s not often you get an offer like that. So they left.’

So they left.

‘They were on the nine o’clock flight from Sydney.’

They’d almost passed in transit, Jackson thought, and he felt sick.

Why? Because of the farm?

No. He knew damned well that the farm didn’t come into it at all.

‘And what of the contracts?’ Hannah demanded, but her eyes were on Jackson’s face. She wasn’t interested in contracts-or farms-either. There were undercurrents here that she’d have to be obtuse not to understand.

Roger Francis spread his hands. ‘I have no idea what she’s done with them. Neither has her boss. I phoned him just now. He was playing golf with no idea of what had happened, and the news hit him as hard as it’s hit me. It seems she just dropped everything and went.’

More silence.

‘That’s that, then.’ Hannah’s voice was bleak and final. ‘No contracts. No partner. No Miss Farr. It seems I can’t sell you my farm even if I want to, Mr Baird. Maybe when we get back to Sydney we can-’

‘I don’t think we can.’ Jackson raked his fingers through his thick black hair and closed his eyes. His voice was as bleak as midwinter. ‘Hell.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Roger said, and Jackson opened his eyes again and focused on his lawyer.

‘You say you spoke to her?’

‘Yes.’

‘And she sounded happy?’

‘Yes, sir. Exceedingly happy.’

‘Damn.’ He swore. ‘I should have…’

‘But you didn’t.’ It was Hannah, looking at him with open curiosity and seeing where his mind was headed. ‘How about a fast trip to Hayman Island?’

‘I’d never make it in time. And if she loves the man…’

‘But what if she loves you?’ she suggested gently-and waited.

‘I don’t know.’ He groaned. And then he caught himself. After all, he’d been trained since birth to receive blows. To receive hurt. He knew how to handle it.

Withdrawal. It was the only way.

‘I’m sorry for wasting your time, Miss Copeland,’ he told her and his voice was now strictly formal. Back to business. The shield had been put up again and it wasn’t about to be lightly put aside. ‘But it seems the fault’s not entirely mine. You’ve obviously chosen an extremely unreliable realtor to represent you.’

‘You can say that again.’ That was Roger Francis. He eyed his employer sideways. ‘If you want a place that’s just for yourself, then the Blue Mountain property is far superior,’ he said smoothly. ‘You know it appealed enormously before you heard about this place. It’s only an hour’s drive from Sydney. I spoke to the owners only yesterday and your option’s still valid.’

‘I bet it is.’

‘I’d be happy to show it to you again. We could take the chopper right now. I could organise someone to fetch my car-’

‘Enough.’ Jackson spread his hands and stepped back. ‘Enough. I need time to think.’

‘I have the Blue Mountain brochure in my briefcase,’ Roger said smoothly. ‘Shall I tell the helicopter pilot you’d like to leave?’

‘No. Yes!’

And then he paused.

There was the sound of a vehicle approaching from the main track. It was being driven far too fast, and by the sound of the engine the car had seen far too many days to be travelling at this speed.

All eyes were drawn to the French windows as a battered and dusty sedan drew to a halt in a screech of brakes and a cloud of dust.

Out tumbled Molly. Closely followed by Angela and Guy and Sam.

‘Are we too late? Has he gone?’

Molly burst into the room with her arms full of documents. Then, as she saw Jackson, she stopped dead.

He took one step towards her. She dropped the documents from nerveless fingers. They scattered over the floor and in less than a second she was being held in his arms-as if she’d never be released again.

After that there was chaos. Angela and Guy and Sam were all crowding into the door behind Molly. Sam was clutching his frog box as if his life depended on it. But his attention-all attention-was on Molly. Who was sobbing her heart out on Jackson’s shoulder.

‘What the…?’

It was all Jackson had to say.

‘I never thought he’d do it.’ Molly was talking through tears into the soft linen of his shirt and he had to stoop to hear. ‘I thought he was just playing games, so I figured I’d go along with it to see what he was up to. I didn’t think it’d get serious. And then he got really nasty and tried to hold me back and I had to fight him…’

‘Whoa!’ He held her at arm’s length at that. There was an angry bruise spreading from under her eye to her