Rescued by a Millionaire. Marion Lennox

suddenly crowded into her head, and instinctively her hands fell to hold Karli tighter.

      She gave herself a sharp mental swipe. She was being ridiculous. She didn’t react to men like this. She didn’t.

      So why was this man so…mesmeric?

      ‘We’re not salesmen,’ she managed, striving for lightness. ‘The doors are a bit far apart out here to do door-to-door selling.’

      She had her reward. The laughter deepened behind his eyes at her pathetic attempt at humour.

      ‘That’s a pity,’ he told her, his smile staying right where it was. He motioned to the pile of newspapers. ‘This is about all I have in the way of reading matter. An encyclopaedia would have its uses.’ Then his smile faded as he searched her eyes. The expression on his face softened, as though he sensed her fear. His gaze dropped again to Karli, peeping out from behind Jenna’s legs, and his expression softened still further.

      ‘So if you’re not salesmen, maybe you could tell me who you are?’

      ‘I don’t think…’ Jenna paused, the enormity of trying to explain their situation to this man almost overwhelming her in its degree of difficulty. ‘You won’t believe…’

      ‘Try me.’

      ‘But I don’t even know who you are,’ she burst out, and his gorgeous smile came flooding back.

      ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘You don’t. You know, I figured since you’re in my kitchen and you came in uninvited, that maybe it was up to you to introduce yourselves first. But maybe I’ve been remiss.’ He hauled his hat from the table and shoved it back on his head, then raised it a few inches in a gesture of salutation. ‘I’m Riley Jackson.’ His dark eyes twinkled down at Karli, who was still clinging as hard as she could cling to Jenna’s leg. ‘Have a seat, ladies. Make yourselves at home.’

      Then he readdressed his beer. Duty done.

      Jenna stared at him in confusion. She was way out of her depth, she acknowledged. If it weren’t for Karli she’d walk out of here—take her chances on the railway platform.

      Who was she kidding? No, she wouldn’t. She had no choice but to keep on talking.

      ‘I’m Jenna Svenson,’ she told him. ‘This is Karli.’

      ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Jenna and Karli,’ he said gravely. ‘Welcome to my farm.’

      His farm. She stared around her at the layer upon layer of dust. She turned to stare out the cracked and grimed window at the dusty paddocks beyond. ‘This isn’t a working farm?’ she managed. ‘Surely. I mean…you don’t live here?’

      ‘Don’t you like my décor?’ Riley demanded, as if he were wounded to the core, and she blinked. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

      ‘It’s really dusty,’ Karli volunteered and that shocked Jenna, too. For Karli to speak in the presence of a stranger was amazing. ‘You don’t wash your table,’ the little girl said, and there was even a note of reproof in her tone.

      ‘Hey, I would have dusted if I’d known you were coming.’ Riley smiled straight down at the little girl, with what was almost a conspiratorial grin. ‘I would have got out the best china and made a cake. Or put some more beer in the fridge. Speaking of which.’ He hauled open the fridge to snag another beer and Jenna bit her lip at the sight of it. Her fears had started to recede, but now they resurfaced with a vengeance. They were so alone. He might not be an axe murderer, but if he were to get drunk…

      He saw her look. He stood with his hand on the refrigerator door and his eyebrows rose in a query. ‘Does this worry you?’ He raised his beer can.

      ‘I…no.’

      ‘It shouldn’t,’ he told her, and went straight to the heart of her fear. ‘It’s low-alcohol beer. I’d have to drink a bathful to get tight. And, lady, even if I was drinking full-strength beer, I’ve been working in the sun for the past twelve hours and after effort like that, alcohol hardly hits the sides.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You sound English. Are you?’

      ‘Y…yes.’

      ‘Australian girls don’t start getting nervous until their men down a dozen or more.’ He pulled the ring on his new can and took a long drink. ‘Now, having reassured you that I’m not about to get rolling drunk on my second light beer, I figure it’s your turn. Maybe I’m being picky but I would like to know what the hell—’ his eyes fell to Karli and he corrected himself ‘—what on earth you guys are doing in my kitchen, criticising my housekeeping and counting my beers. It’s not that I’m unappreciative. It’s always nice when guests drop in. I’m just not sure where you dropped from.’

      She swallowed. He had the right. ‘From the train,’ she started and he nodded.

      ‘I guess it had to be the train. But I was over there picking up supplies. I didn’t see you.’

      ‘We got off just as the train left.’

      ‘You weren’t expecting to be collected, then?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I see.’ He thought about it, his eyes not leaving hers. ‘So you thought you might indulge in a little sightseeing?’

      ‘There’s no need to be sarcastic,’ Jenna snapped. ‘We didn’t choose to get off.’

      ‘You’re saying someone threw you off?’ That amazing smile flashed out then. ‘What, for being drunk and disorderly?’ As she didn’t reply, he settled onto a chair with the air of a man about to enjoy a good book. ‘Well, well. Jenna Svenson. And Karli. Sit down and tell me all. Please.’

      She owed him that much, she thought. She needed him. She had to tell him.

      She sat and hoisted Karli onto the chair beside her. Their chairs were touching and Karli was still in contact with her, but strangely the little girl seemed to be relaxing.

      What was it about this man?

      Jenna wasn’t relaxing. She sat gingerly on the edge of her chair. The chair gave a distinct wobble, and the wobble made her feel even more precarious. It was as if her world were tilting and she wasn’t at all sure that she wasn’t about to slide right off.

      ‘We had a disagreement with someone on the train,’ she managed. ‘We…we got angry and we got off.’

      ‘You had a disagreement.’ His thoughtful eyes glinted again, humour seemingly just below the surface. His eyes searched her face, then dropped to take her all in. His eyes ran over her dust-stained pants and blouse—they’d once been white—over her wind-tumbled curls where the red dust was blending with her burnt-red hair, down to her slim arms resting on the table before her. To her bare fingers.

      His eyes went again to Karli. To study her dusty red curls and her big green eyes that were a mirror image of Jenna’s.

      ‘Who was your disagreement with?’

      ‘With Karli’s father,’ she told him. ‘Brian.’

      His eyes flashed again to her fingers but there was no ring-mark there. That was what he was searching for, she knew. Damn him, she thought with anger. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

      ‘Oh, dear,’ he said. ‘You’ve left the third part of your happy family on the train.’

      ‘There’s no third part,’ she snapped. ‘And, believe me, it’s no happy family.’

      ‘Obviously.’

      She flushed. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. How to explain within Karli’s earshot?

      And how to justify her stupidity? Her stupid, almost criminal idiocy.

      ‘You know, what you did wasn’t all that bright,’ he told her, his voice gentle and his eyes resting thoughtfully on her flushed face.