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  For the space of seconds her mind played her tricks. She imagined she was back at Baccaroo, in another world. Wade had been out ail night, busy with the mustering on the huge cattle station. His big body hadn't been there to keep her warm, but she could have sworn he had just kissed her. Her mouth, which he had taught to be so sensitive, felt as if it had been gently assaulted. 'Wade?' she whispered.

  He was watching her, but his eyes were unreadable. If anything, there was just a hint of his well remembered caution. 'Yes?' was all he said.

  Her frown deepening, she stared at him. Was this all he had to say? She couldn't recall him ever being inarticulate. Then, as she stared at him, everything came flooding back with terrifying force. Her voice rose in panic. 'Where's Graham? Wade, what have you done with him? Where am I?'

  Because he took his time in answering she could have killed him, but when she tried to so much as sit up she was so weak she couldn't. The white walls around her appeared to mock the urgent appeal in her hands and face. The man she was looking at might have been a stranger, not someone who had once held her so closely. -

  'You're in hospital,' he told her briefly, easing his powerful limbs somewhat warily on the frail chair beneath him, 'and Grandfather has taken Graham home to Baccaroo.'

  'No. Oh, no!' As full realisation hit her, Vicki's voice rose to a scream.

  His hand moved like lightning, clamping ruthlessly over her mouth, his fingers biting the soft skin of her cheeks. 'Be quiet, you little fool! Unless you want me thrown out?'

  She obeyed, although she didn't believe anyone could throw a McLeod out of anywhere, unless he chose to go voluntarily. That the touch of his hand made her face burn "seemed of secondary importance. 'Wade,' she begged frantically, all her pride sliding from her, 'you can't take him from me!'

  'I didn't.' As her voice modulated, he relaxed the guard of his hand. 'It was the old man's idea. I don't want him.'

  Strange how that still hurt as much, Wade's rejection of what was actually a part of him. Even though she was familiar with McLeod history and knew the root cause of this, she was still surprised. 'I know you don't want him, you never did,' she forced herself to try and speak calmly, 'so why didn't you speak out? You could have prevented your grandfather coming, from taking him away!'

  'The old man has a heart condition.'

  'So?' Her voice dropped to a strangled whisper as her brief strength was sorely tried. 'I don't recall you ever worrying about him before. You hated him—for what he'd done to your family.'

  Wade McLeod's face closed up. So near that she could see every sculptured bone of it, Vicki felt her whole body vibrate with remembered trembling. Odd, the insane recollections, when other, much more important things were at stake.

  Curtly, Wade said, 'There's a difference, I've discovered, between hating someone and actually pushing them into their grave.' He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. 'If he hadn't been there when I learnt of your whereabouts, I might have been able to arrange things differently. As he is now the least setback could kill him.'

  'This worries you?'

  Ignoring her cold sarcasm, he startled her, somewhat, by sighing heavily. 'It doesn't seem to matter so much now. If the sight of his great-grandson is going to add pleasure to the last few weeks of his life, who am I to begrudge him? It won't change anything much. There are other things he'll still go on about.'

  'But I want my son!' In spite of her efforts, Vicki's voice rose again and she struggled to sit up. 'You can't take him from me, no matter how you feel about me!' Wildly she sought some outlet for the terrible despair inside her. 'I hate you for the past, Wade McLeod. Don't make me hate you for the future!'

  'Don't worry,' she heard his breath rasp and his eyes went icy, 'you can have your son just as soon as the old man goes.'

  'You've never forgiven the, have you,' she cried, 'in all this time?' -, 'We won't talk about it,' he cut in curtly.

  T thought you would have tried to divorce me,' she choked, hurt to the core, for both herself and Graham.

  'After the old man goes,' Wade" taunted, 'I'm going to see to a lot of things I've been putting off. Right now it gives me more pleasure, every time, a classy new specimen of femininity puts in an appearance, to see him biting his fingers because there's no way I can marry the lady.'

  'So you still use me like a weapon?' The hurt was building up now, becoming a floodtide, sweeping away the deep frozen inertia of the past four years. But, like cold fingers held too near the heat, the thawing was so painful she almost screamed. you never loved me, I know. You married me on a surge of anger. Because I was the last girl your grandfather would have chosen for you, and you decided to have your revenge by presenting him with your loveless childless marriage. As I said, you only wanted me as a weapon.' Vicki paused, suddenly frightened by the look on his face that she had said too much. Even so, Wade's answer, at that moment, seemed strangely more important than her fear.

  Far from denying anything, as she had unconsciously hoped he would, he merely sneered, 'You were a good weapon, while it lasted, but like all weapons I should have remembered to use you carefully. Unfortunately I wasn't careful enough.'

  'Well, you can't use me now,' she was unaware of the painful disappointment in her eyes, 'because I'm not at Baccaroo any more. I'm going back, but only to collect Graham.'

  "No, you aren't.' His hand shot out to cover hers, his grip menacing with anger. 'You're going back to Baccaroo to stay—for as long as the old man lives. After that you'll be free to go, both you and your son.'

  While Vicki wanted to argue, to deride him for his cruel rejection of her, his ruthless attitude swept every logical argument from her mind. She could only stare at him, entirely and helplessly wounded.' She wanted to pursue the matter, to make him understand he must try and see her point of view, but knowing of his harshness in the past she took heed of some instinct which warned her to go carefully.

  Not wholly aware of doing it, she avoided any direct reference to his last observation. Her face was white, but she managed to ask evenly, 'I'm in hospital, aren't I? How did I get here?'

  I brought you. You've been here three days.' 'Three days!' Wade had released her hand. Now she clutched his, her face tormented, her voice rising. How was Graham managing without her? 'Have I been so ill?'

  'You had a virus fever which went untreated too long, but you should be all right. You haven't been unconscious all the time. Partly you're suffering from exhaustion.' 'And Graham?' Her eyes begged what she couldn't put into words.

  'Stop worrying about him,' Wade exclaimed grimly, his mouth so hard with a kind of leashed fury that she couldn't bear looking at him. 'The old man hired a nurse. God knows she should be efficient, she's costing plenty. They flew out of here a few hours after you passed out.' 'But he's only been used to me!' 'Come off it, Vicki, you had a job.' 'Yes. Oh, I see,' she faltered unevenly. Then, seeking to assure him that Graham hadn't been neglected through her having to work, she said, 'He is used to other people, but this is because I had no choice. The lady in the room across the landing looked after him. She's very kind, he has much of his own way.'

  'Then a little discipline will do him no harm.' For a . man who never had anything to do with children he sounded remarkably well informed. There were, of course, children on the station. 'Anyway,' Wade shrugged carelessly, 'it appears he's settling fine—more pleased with everything than his mother ever was.'

  As if Wade had struck her she removed her hand from where it still clutched his and pushed it under the bedclothes. She had loved Baccaroo, but if he thought otherwise then let him. Graham, she knew desolately, would love it too. There would be so much at Baccaroo to take his attention. All those horses, for instance. The station ran some of the finest in the Territory. Graham would be delighted with them, young though he was. How long would it take a boy of his age to forget previous attachments when confronted with all Baccaroo could offer? But she couldn't agree to this without a fight. 'I refuse to leave him there
!'

  The movement of her hand brought a grim smile and, as if in retaliation. Wade took no notice of her increasing agitation. 'Your hah,' he touched it fleetingly, 'it never used to be so dark? The old man used to say its fairness couldn't be natural. Was he right?'

  While resenting the ease with which he sought to change the subject, she couldn't help protesting, I had no hairdresser, no magic means of making my hair lighter than it naturally was at Baccaroo.' She wasn't interested in her hair or anything else about herself. She couldn't find the energy to tell him her hair was only suffering from neglect, that all it needed was a good wash. To recall the few times Wade had run his hands over it, on days when it had looked as silky and fluffy as thistledown, brought pain, so she tried to think of something else.

  She wished he would stop looking at her. He had always had a most penetrating gaze, his eyes often seeing far too much. He might be king of his many acres at Baccaroo, where he ruled, in spite of his grandfather, with all the autocracy of a more feudal era, but he didn't rule over her! This, bringing a positive surge of temper, gave her the strength to try and struggle up. When his hand came out to push her back against her pillows, as he had done a few minutes ago, she could have cried with frustration. Despair almost swamped her, that when his ringers touched her shoulders a flicker of awareness went immediately through her. Her eyes widened, giving a transient beauty to her ravaged face as she stared up at him. If only he hadn't been so attractive, so frighteningly masculine! There was about him a kind of sensuous hardness that made her want to turn over and curl up into the mattress. Dear God, that he could still affect her so after four long years! She must be raving—hadn't she enough to fight? Her illness must have deranged her.

  If Wade McLeod was conscious of any desire other than to make his wife relax, he gave no indication. His hands didn't linger, but his eyes narrowed coldly on her face, as if some part of him remembered things against his better judgment. When he spoke his voice held merely a dry cynicism. 'I hope we'll soon be able to improve your looks at Baccaroo, even if you were always a plain little thing. At least I've made a start on your wardrobe.'

  Colour swept up her cheeks, making the blotching worse, so she knew she must deserve the way he described her. It was no use flinching. 'My wardrobe?' Startled out of her painfully held composure, her eyes dropped to the flimsy nightgown she was wearing. It was, she thought, much too transparent. Perhaps it was as well she was so thin as it must leave little to the imagination! Had Wade chosen it himself? "This isn't mine,' she stammered, attempting to pull tire sheet higher, under her chin. 'Where did you get it?'

  Sardonically, he leant back in his chair, hooking both arms around the sides of it. The broadness of his chest, thus bared, caused Vicki's face to burn anew with recollections and a pulse raced in her throat as she looked away.

  'I suppose you just went out and bought it?' she said dully.

  'Nothing a man need be ashamed of doing,' he said smoothly, 'if it's for his wife.'

  She might have replied that he had never bought her such a thing before, but she remembered the special circumstances. What, she wondered, did he buy other women?

  When she remained silent, his mouth twisted. 'If you must know, I tracked down your place of work.'

  'You what!'

  'I'm beginning to see,' his eyes appraised her coldly, 'it's going to be easier to tell you everything. You fainted right into my arms. The old man was shouting that you were a good actress and then your son woke up. Someone had to take charge.'

  'As if you didn't, always!'

  He ignored her bitterness so that she almost felt ashamed. 'I could see you were too far gone for the usual methods of resuscitation, even if there had been anything in that hovel to revive you, so I simply whipped you into hospital.'

  'And Graham?' The tears in her voice were streaming down her cheeks now as she thought of his baby mind trying to grapple with such a rude awakening. Of seeing his mother taken from him by a stranger!

  Wade had no compassion for tears. 'I contacted a neighbour—obviously the woman you were talking about.' His tone suggested he hadn't been impressed, but he did say grudgingly, 'She helped. Grandfather stayed with the boy until I returned then we took him to a hotel. You can believe me he didn't bawl the place down. I'll say this for him, he has a stiffer upper Up than you have! The old man talked to him and he went off to sleep again. The next morning he wanted you, but not for long. He has too healthy an interest in his surroundings to fret overmuch.'

  Vicki believed it, even while she felt stunned, as if from a blow. Graham had too much of the McLeods in him to allow himself to become overwhelmed by petty considerations, like losing his mother! Even at so young an age he had it in him to conduct himself like a man. His wouldn't be the normal reactions of an ordinary four-year-old. And from now on, if old man McLeod had anything to do with it, this tough, independent streak, which already flourished in him so abundantly, would be encouraged until soon he would be no baby any more.

  'What then?' she breathed, trying desperately to control another wave of tears. She must be weak because of her illness.

  Wade glanced at her oppressively, noting how she shivered. 'It didn't take long to organise the rest. A nurse from the agency, then I saw them all off from Moorabbin Airport.'

  Not for a moment did Vicki doubt him. In the months she had lived with the McLeods she had become very aware of their superb efficiency. They had only to devise a plan to have it immediately carried out, especially when money was no object.

  'You have plenty of power—and you enjoy using it!' she choked, attempting not to think of Graham, in case her last bit of restraint went.

  'It helps.'

  She could see he barely concealed his impatience with her distress. 'Why didn't you go with them?' she asked, feeling sick.

  'I decided not to.' He gave no explanation, nor did his face betray anything. 'I went to your place of work in Collins Street and told them you wouldn't be back.'

  'You—what?'

  He regarded her wild resentment suavely. 'You can't be in two places at once.'

  Helplessly she subsided. 'What did Madame Sorelle have to say when you told her that?'

  'Nothing at all,' he" assured her cynically. 'At least nothing you wouldn't want to hear. Considering the bill I paid perhaps it wasn't surprising.'

  'Bill? For what?'

  'For all the new clothes I bought you, that nightdress you're wearing included. It seemed sensible to get them there. In a high class establishment, where you'd worked. Madame Sorelle said you'd occasionally modelled for her, when one of her other girls was off, so she knew your size. You didn't think I was going to take you back to Baccaroo as you were, did you?'

  Was it pride or concern that had made him do this? Somehow she imagined the first would be responsible. 'You could have packed me something from my room. My pyjamas...'...

  If I could have done, I'd have put a match to the lot of it! It would have given me the greatest pleasure to see it go up>in flames.' His laughter, which followed her visible apprehension, had a grim but satisfied ring to it. 'As it happened, I was able to hire someone to clear everything out, and the room's been re-let. It would be impossible for you to go back there, even if you wanted to.'

  CHAPTER TWO

  It seemed a long time before Vicki could pull herself together sufficiently to speak again. The room Wade referred to so contemptuously had been the only home she had known, since before Graham had been born. And in the space of a few hours, probably less, Wade had destroyed it. It only made everything worse to realise she couldn't fight him on this, not if she wanted to see Graham again. She wasn't fool enough to imagine she could take on Wade McLeod and win. There might be a way, but it would need patience to beat him at his own game. Not having to pretend the weakness which seemed suddenly to overtake her, she whispered thickly, 'Not everyone can afford to live on places like Baccaroo!'

  He didn't have anything to say to what sounded suspiciously like a
n accusation, but his eyes narrowed on her taut face.

  Suddenly she had to know. It was like a pain gnawing inside her. 'Wade, don't you feel anything for your son?' Every nerve tense, she waited for his answer.

  He gave none, not directly, but came to his feet with the swiftness of movement she so well remembered. He saw how white she was, the unconscious pleading in her blue eyes. Eyes which begged an answer he wasn't prepared to give.

  Unrelentingly he stood gazing down at her. You understand how I feel about him, my dear. We don't have to cover old ground, open old wounds. I'll pick you up on Thursday morning—your doctor assures me you should be well enough to travel by then. I should advise you to regard the next few weeks at Baccaroo as an unexpected holiday and learn to< be content with that.'

  When he strode out, Vicki considered it crazy to feel hurt that he never spared her another glance. It seemed even more insane, considering her very real anguish over her son, how it was Wade who held her every thought, at that moment, rather than Graham.

  Four days later they flew north-to Alice Springs, where they transferred to Wade's private plane which would take them to Baccaroo. The journey from Melbourne had been pleasant, another time Vicki might have enjoyed it, but she still felt horribly weak.

  Wade turned his dark head to glance at her, not fooled by the huge sun-glasses which half hid her pale face. ·You've had about enough, haven't you?'

  ·You don't have to worry about me,' she replied coldly, looking straight ahead, rather than at the man sitting beside her, as if afraid to trust her eyes not to linger. He flew the plane with the same expertise he did everything else, which included, she recalled with a shudder, reading her very thoughts. She didn't know what she was thinking about-—telling Wade not to worry about her! If he did that, it would only be for the sake of appearances.