Scandalous Secrets. Michelle Douglas

was he here for? He was looking for owls. Right.

      ‘There...’ Penny breathed—she’d caught sight of the first bird before he had. Even though he was holding the torch. Good one, Fraser, he told himself. Get a grip.

      ‘The other will be close,’ he managed.

      ‘The other?’

      ‘This is a nesting pair. They’ve been using the same nest for years, very successfully. Their young populate half this valley. Look, there’s the female. She’s a bit bigger than the male. They’re feeling a bit threatened now. See, they’re sitting bolt upright, but they’ve seen me so often I can’t imagine they think of me as a threat.’

      He was concentrating on the birds rather than Penny.

      ‘Would the shearing team leap to their defence too?’ she asked mildly and he smiled.

      ‘They might. No one likes their quarters overrun by mice. These guys do us a favour. But I don’t think they’d come quite as fast as if you needed help. You’ve—deservedly—made some pretty fierce friends.’

      ‘Matt?’

      ‘Mmm?’

      ‘Stop it with the compliments. They don’t mean anything and I don’t want them.’

      And the way she said it made him pause. It made him stop thinking of how she smelled and, instead, think about where she’d come from.

      He got it, he thought. She’d just been through one messy relationship. He didn’t know this Brett guy who’d been such a toe-rag but he could imagine. Somehow, he had a pretty clear idea of her family dynamics by now. In some ways Penny was tough but in others...she was exposed, he thought, and Brett must have sensed that weakness. If he’d said great things to her she would have believed them. She’d believed them all the way to a calamitous engagement.

      So now she thought compliments were a means of manipulation and he could understand why. He had to shut up. Except suddenly he couldn’t.

      ‘Right,’ he told her. ‘No more compliments. But there are a few truths—not compliments, truths, that I’m not taking back. Firstly, your cooking is awesome and I’m incredibly grateful. Second, I’d agree with Ron—you do have a nice rear end, even though it’s an entirely inappropriate comment for a boss to make about his employee. And finally there’s one more thing which I need to say and it’ll make you blush because it’s a ripper.’

      ‘A ripper?’ she said faintly. ‘A ripper of a compliment?’

      ‘Not a compliment,’ he told her, throwing caution to the wind. He took her other hand and tugged so she was facing him. ‘Just the truth. Penelope Hindmarsh-Firth, you smell of fresh baked bread and yeast and the aroma of a day spent in the kitchen, my kitchen, and if you think me telling you that you have a nice backside is an empty compliment then the world’s upside down. This is a gorgeous night and I’m holding the hands of a woman who’s saved my butt. She has a beautiful backside, not to mention the rest of her—and she smells and looks beautiful. Messy but beautiful. No more compliments, Penny. Just the truth. So...’

      He paused then and took a deep breath and fought for the strength to say what had to be said. Because it was unwise and shouldn’t be said at all but how could he not?

      ‘So?’ she whispered and somehow he found himself answering. Still telling it like it was.

      ‘So we need to go in now because if we stay out here one moment longer I’ll be forced to kiss you.’

      And there it was, out in the open. This thing...

      ‘And you don’t want to?’ It was a whisper, so low he thought he’d misheard. But he hadn’t. Her whisper seemed to echo. Even the owls above their head seemed to pause to listen.

      This was such a bad idea. This woman was his employee. She was trapped here for the next four days, or longer if she took him up on his offer to extend.

      What was he doing? Standing in the dark, talking of kissing a woman? Did he want to?

      ‘I do want to,’ he said because there was nothing else to say.

      ‘Then what’s stopping you?’

      ‘Penny...’

      ‘Just shut up, Matt Fraser, and kiss me.’

      And what could he say to that?

      The night held its breath and Matt Fraser took Penny Hindmarsh-Firth into his arms and he kissed her.

      * * *

      Wow.

      Um...

      Wow?

      This was wrong on so many levels. Firstly, she should still be in mourning for her broken engagement and the betrayal that went with it.

      Second, this man was her boss.

      Third, she was alone out here, under the gums and the starlight with a man she’d met less than two weeks ago.

      The owls above their heads had decided they no longer needed to be wary and were swooping off, dark shadows against the moonlight as they continued their night’s hunt.

      Under her feet was a carpet of leaf litter that gave off the scent of eucalypts when she moved. But how could she move?

      Matt was tugging her close. Her face was tilting up to his and his mouth met hers.

      Matt hadn’t shaved for a couple of days—when would he find time? His clothes were rough, heavy moleskin pants and a thick shirt open at the throat, sleeves rolled back to reveal arms of sheer brawn. His hands were scarred and weathered.

      He smelled of the shearing shed. He’d washed and changed before he’d come out to the veranda but the lanolin from the fleeces seemed to have seeped into his pores. He smelled and felt what he was. He owned this land but he stood beside his men. He did the hard yards with them.

      He was a man of steel.

      He kissed her as if this was the first time for both of them. As if he had all the time in the world. As if he wasn’t sure what it was he’d be tasting but he wasn’t about to rush it.

      His hands moved to her hips but he didn’t tug her into him, or if he did it wasn’t hard, and maybe the fact that she was melting against him was an act of her own volition. She could back away at any time.

      But oh, the feel of him. The sensation of his lips brushing hers. For now it was just brushing, almost a feather-touch, but it was the most sensual thing she’d ever felt. His hands on the small of her back... The feel of his rough hair as she tentatively lifted her hand and let herself rake it...

      Oh, Matt.

      Oh, wow.

      But he wasn’t pressing. He wasn’t pushing and suddenly she saw it from his point of view.

      She was in his terrain, and she was all by herself. He was a man of honour. He was kissing her on terms that said the control was hers. She could pull back.

      And with that thought came the most logical next thought.

      If she was in control then bring it on. How could she not? This man was gorgeous. The night was gorgeous. She was a twenty-seven-year-old woman out under the stars with a man to die for.

      And then, quite deliberately, she let her thoughts dissolve. She raised her hands to his hair so she had his head and she tugged him closer. She stood on tiptoe to get closer still.

      She opened her lips and she welcomed him in.

      * * *

      Penny was melting under his hands and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

      How could he want to do anything about it?

      She’d stood on tiptoe and surrendered her mouth to him. Her hands claimed him. Her body said she wanted this kiss as much or more than he did, and he’d