Claimed By Her Billionaire Protector. Robyn Donald

      The man beside her went on, ‘I called my housekeeper and she’s preparing a bed for you.’ And without pausing he added on an ironic note, ‘I’m sure there will be a lock on the door. If not, you’ll still be quite safe.’

      Stung, she blurted, ‘I didn’t—I wasn’t...’

      Housekeeper? Did he travel with a domestic ménage? Although various tradesmen and decorators had been working on the sadly neglected and almost derelict Mana homestead for some months, local gossip hadn’t mentioned a resident housekeeper.

      Perhaps Niko Radcliffe guessed her thoughts, because he said calmly, ‘I assume you know that the house is still being restored, although fortunately it’s almost finished.’

      Elana drew in a sharp breath. ‘It’s been the talk of the district since you bought the station.’ Along with the huge amount of money he was spending on the house as well as the land itself. ‘But I’m perfectly all right—a bit shaken, that’s all. I don’t need to be cosseted.’

      ‘Your policeman friend didn’t seem to think so.’

      His amused tone rubbed her raw. ‘Phil’s a nice man but he’s always had an over-developed protective instinct. There’s no need for you to wake up your housekeeper and put her to this trouble.’

      ‘She’s another with an over-developed protective instinct,’ he said laconically, turning the wheel to swing between low stone walls. For years they’d proudly guarded the entrance to Mana homestead, but now more than a few of the volcanic boulders had tumbled to the ground.

      No doubt they’d soon be put back in place.

      Above the clatter of the cattle stop, Elana said grittily, ‘I—thank you.’ In his forceful, domineering way, Niko Radcliffe possibly thought he was being neighbourly.

      ‘It’s nothing.’

      His tone told her that, indeed, he meant just that. Because, of course, his housekeeper would be the one who did any actual caring—not that it would be necessary.

      She opened her mouth to say something astringent, then closed it as he went on, ‘It’s been an unnerving experience for you—and understandably so.’

      ‘Which doesn’t mean I’m not capable of looking after myself.’

      ‘Is it always so difficult for you to accept help?’

      Elana couldn’t come up with any sensible response. Much as she resisted the idea, her shock at the accident and fear for Jordan weren’t the only reasons for her silence. From the moment she’d seen Niko he’d had a potent effect on her.

      And she certainly wasn’t going to let him know that.

      He broke the silence. ‘If Mrs Nixon had been with us, I’m sure you’d have let her sweep you off home with her.’

      ‘I—’ Elana paused, then said reluctantly, ‘Well—yes. But I’ve known the Nixons almost all my life, and she’d worry.’

      Still amused, he said, ‘I can’t say I’d worry, but I’d certainly be concerned if I’d dropped you off by yourself. And if you’re concerned now about local gossip, you don’t have to be. My housekeeper will be enough of a chaperone.’

      His response made her seem like some virgin from Victorian melodrama. Elana stifled a sharp retort. ‘I’m not at all worried about my—well, about my safety. Or my reputation. I just want to go home.’

      ‘No,’ he said coolly.

      Fulminating, she looked across at a profile hewn of stone, all arrogant angles above a chin that proclaimed complete determination.

      Sheer frustration made her demand recklessly, ‘Why are you doing this? You realise that it’s kidnapping?’

      His mouth curved. ‘Tell me, would anyone in Waipuna accept that—and I’m including your policeman friend?’

      He’d called her bluff. Of course they wouldn’t, and neither would she accuse him of it. Curtly she retorted, ‘I’d have preferred that we talk the matter over before you drove past my gate.’

      ‘Why? We’d have just had exactly the same conversation, only sooner. And I’m assuming that you’re sensible enough to accept that you’re not only tired, but still traumatised by the tragedy of your parents’ accident.’

      Elana flinched, averting her face as he stopped the car outside the old homestead. The harsh glare of the headlights highlighted the amazing change huge amounts of money could produce in a few months. Evidence of years of neglect under the previous owner had been erased, and Mana homestead looked as pristine as it must have when it had first been built over a century ago.

      * * *

      Niko turned and inspected her. She was staring at the homestead, her features sharpened. ‘I’ve upset you. I’m sorry,’ he said, resisting the impulse to take her hands in his and offer what comfort he could.

      Years ago he’d learned a harsh lesson about giving in to a compassionate impulse. A friend’s daughter had suffered a setback, and he’d taken her on a short cruise on his yacht, only to realise that she was falling in love with him. He’d felt no more for her than a brotherly affection, and had told her so as gently as he could. For the rest of his life, he’d be grateful that her attempt at suicide had failed, and that she was now happily married.

      Since then, he’d been careful not to raise expectations he wasn’t able to satisfy, choosing sophisticated lovers who understood that he wasn’t interested in matrimony.

      Elana Grange shook her head, her tone flat when she answered. ‘I’m rather weary of telling people I’m all right. Thank you. You’re being very kind.’ She even attempted a smile as she straightened her shoulders and said in what she probably hoped was her normal voice, ‘It’s shocking what twenty years of neglect did to this place. Those pohutukawa trees on the edge of the beach are over three hundred years old. The previous owners were going to cut them down. They said they blocked the view.’

      ‘Why didn’t they fell them?’

      ‘There was a public outcry, and a threat to take it to the environment court. I don’t know why they wanted them removed. They almost never came to Mana.’ She paused. ‘And the oak tree we’ve just passed was planted by the wife of the very first settler here.’

      ‘I gather from your tone that you’re not sure whether or not I’m going to bulldoze trees down,’ Niko said dryly.

      * * *

      Elana hesitated, before telling him the truth. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me, but I hope you’re not.’

      ‘I prefer to plant trees rather than kill them.’

      Brief and to the point, and, because he’d decided to restore the homestead rather than demolish it, she believed him. ‘Except for pine trees, I believe.’

      ‘Except for wilding pines,’ he agreed.

      He switched off the engine and got out. On a ragged, deep breath, Elana fumbled with the clip of her seatbelt, then wrestled with the unfamiliar door catch. Before she’d fathomed it out, the door swung open.

      ‘Here, take my hand,’ Niko commanded.

      Scrambling out, she muttered, ‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’

      Although he said nothing, she realised he was watching her closely as they walked towards the house. A woman opened the door—the housekeeper, of course—probably in her forties, with a smile that held both a welcome and some interest.

      Niko said, ‘Elana, this is Mrs West. Patty, Elana Grange lives next door. She’s had a shock, so I’d suggest a cup of tea or coffee.’ He glanced down at Elana. ‘Or something a bit stronger.’

      ‘Tea will be fine, thank you,’ Elana said as crisply as she could, and added, ‘I’m sorry Mr Radcliffe felt