Obsession Down Under Read online

  “As much as I’d like to stay and listen to more of your dribble, I’ve got more pressing places to be.” Whip folded himself back into the driver’s seat and kicked over the engine. “Get the gate for me, Drew, and Travis, be sure and keep these two in line until I get back.”

  “Don’t sweat it. They’ll be so busy fixing fences and doing your chores they won’t have time to itch, let alone scratch. You just enjoy the break and make sure you call me as soon as you collect her.”

  “Don’t hold your breath, little brother. Calling you will be the last thing on my mind.” He grinned, knowing that the little brother comment would piss Travis off. “But I’ll give you a call when I’m heading home, probably won’t be before Friday, though.”

  “Travel safe, bro.” Travis tapped the roof of the vehicle twice before stepping aside.

  His other brothers added their good-byes, and Drew swung the gate wide.

  Whip gave them a salute, buckled his belt, and then drove through the opening. A toot of the horn was his final farewell as he turned off the property and accelerated onto the asphalt road.

  As he motored along, thoughts of the three siblings filled his mind and a smile crept onto his face. They were royal pains in the ass but good men all the same, and he wouldn’t trade them for gold. But he shook his head at his own stupidity. What a dumbass for not being savvy enough to realize they wouldn’t let him make the long trip to Sydney without seeing him off.

  With little to no traffic on the highway, he put the Ute on cruise control and drove on autopilot. The car chewed up the miles, and having not much else to occupy him and plenty of time on his hands, his thoughts turned to Jessie Rose.

  Sure, he was taking a chance, but as the old cliché went—nothing ventured, nothing gained. And despite all the jokes his brothers made to the contrary, he was easy on the eye, and Jessie Rose would not be disappointed with what she saw, that much he knew. He wasn’t vain nor was he blind. The evidence stared him in the mirror every day, and attracting women had never been a problem for him.

  Over the years, many people had told him he was handsome, sexy, he’d even overheard himself referred to as a hunk. But looks were never big on his list of priorities and were even less so now he was older.

  Yeah, it would be a bonus if she was a looker. More important for him though, and what he desired most, was someone who’d stick by him come hell or high water. Someone smart and funny and not shy between the sheets, someone he could talk to and not get bored with, someone like Jessie Rose.

  Their relationship started by chance but in no time at all ballooned into . . . into what? A romantic affair? Not quite the term he was seeking, but it would do for want of a better one.

  Bored one night, and just for amusement, he’d been reading the posts on a military forum when he came upon hers. It was different. She wasn’t angling for a pen pal like so many other females. She was after advice.

  A romance writer in her spare time, she was seeking military personnel, active or retired, who wouldn’t mind answering some technical questions, as the hero in her book was a military man.

  He’d done a stint in the forces and thought what the hell. He’d tapped out a response and sent it to her private e-mail address before he’d had time to think better of it.

  That had been the start. She was American, but it didn’t matter that he’d served in the Australian Army, she was just grateful for any help. The three or four e-mails she’d sent that first month were technical, pure and simple, and they all ended the same. Thanks a lot, Jessica, and she always added a red rose emoticon next to her name.

  After six weeks, the personal questions crept in. By the third month they’d hit their comfort zone. The e-mails then arrived every few days and were more personal than technical. He discovered she was smart and witty, and he laughed at her jokes. He christened her Jessie Rose and looked forward to the mornings when a message would be waiting in his inbox, and was disappointed if there wasn’t one.

  When the sexual innuendo began, it was so subtle, he’d almost missed it. Her e-mail could be read two ways, so he’d taken a gamble and responded with a little sexual innuendo of his own. She’d come back raising the bar, and he’d responded upping the ante. After that they’d gotten down and dirty with no holds barred.

  The cybersex, although awkward at first, was hot, intense, and incredibly erotic. Being a romance writer, she had all the raunchy words and wasn’t shy in using them. It was uncharted territory for him. He preferred hands-on, but he was a quick study, and when she’d thrown down the challenge he’d picked it up, and found it addictive.

  They’d meet online every Monday and Thursday night, and on many occasions he’d go to bed frustrated. But not all of their chats were based on sex. They’d discovered they had a lot in common, but they also found some of their views were at opposite ends of the spectrum, making for lively debate.

  She liked romantic comedies, he liked action films. They both read murder mysteries, and of course she liked the girlie books. When he’d scoffed and called them dribble with no substance, she’d made him confess to not ever having read one, and then took him to task for making unsubstantiated statements. She’d then extracted his promise to read her book, if it was ever published. She was fun and easy to talk, too. He liked her.

  Just how much he liked her hit home a few weekends ago when he’d gone into town with Drew to pick up supplies. After stowing them in the Ute, they’d headed to the local pub to sink a few cold ones. Drew bought the first round, and before the two empties had hit the countertop, two attractive young redheads approached them and struck up a conversation.

  As it turned out, they were sisters down from Queensland visiting with family. They were amiable and one kept giving him the eye, making her attraction to him as plain as day. In the past, with that kind of come-on, he’d book a room for the night, but then Jessie Rose popped into his head and he’d found himself comparing the two.

  Strange, because he didn’t even know what she looked like. She was like a fire in his blood, and it was time to grab hold of his balls and do something about it.

  When one of his late father’s old associates walked into the bar an hour later, he’d seized the opportunity by making an excuse to the girls and followed the man into the other room. He’d sat talking with the old bloke marking time until Drew was ready to leave.

  The drive home had been uneventful. When they’d pulled up at the homestead, Drew yawned and went off to bed. He was tired, too, but when he’d hit the mattress, sleep eluded him. His head had buzzed with thoughts of Jessie Rose, and his body’s reaction had been predictable. So he’d hustled out of bed and into the shower where he’d found relief under the cool spray and afterward dried off with a rough towel.

  Determined not to wait until she was online, he headed straight for the computer and typed a message that almost wrote itself. It wasn’t jazzed up with flowery words. He just shot straight from the hip.

  He’d read it twice, and then, leaning back in the big leather chair, questioned whether he was doing the right thing. He’d always been honest, but had she? People often acted out over the Net. What if she wasn’t all that she’d said? But hell, what if she was? Before he could change his mind, he’d sent the e-mail that had the potential to change his life.

  Chapter 3

  When he woke the next morning, Whip found himself fidgety. The hotel suite he’d booked in the heart of Sydney was a ritzy affair, and the king-sized bed was comfortable, but he wasn’t one for lying in. Besides, he was looking forward to today.

  The trip to Sydney from his property on the outskirts of Glen Innes in northern New South Wales had been lengthy but tranquil. Not pressed for time and enjoying the countryside, he’d opted to take some of the more scenic routes rather than the highway. It lengthened the usual nine-hour journey by a couple of hours, but he’d w
anted to check out some beaches en route. There were a few road works along the way, but that didn’t do much other than delay his arrival and coat The Beast, that’s how he thought of his Ute, with grime.

  Daylight had faded by the time he arrived in the city. Skyscrapers were lit up like stars in the night sky, and the lights from the buildings reflected and shimmered off the harbor’s inky water like silver butterflies skimming the surface. It was a beautiful city, and it never failed to amaze him.

  The day had been relaxing, but by the time he’d checked into the hotel, he was feeling a little on the lazy side. Rather than go out to eat, he ordered a beer and a meal from room service. Two hours later, satisfied and replete, he showered, watched a bit of television, then turned in for an early night.

  Up with the dawn, he was washed, shaved, and dressed when a knock on the door announced breakfast had arrived. The order had been placed the night before, and when the waiter put the tray on the circular table, the smell of bacon, eggs, and fresh coffee wafting through the room was so inviting, he didn’t waste any time in devouring it.

  Half an hour later with breakfast out of the way, he got up and walked to the window, pushed the heavy curtains aside, and peered out at a dreary sky. Black thunderclouds hung low over the city skyline, promising a miserable day ahead. Damn. He’d hoped for blue sky and sunshine but wasn’t about to complain over the rain. Still, if the wind picked up it might blow the clouds out to sea.

  He let the curtains fall back into place and glanced at his watch. There was still time to kill, so he poured another coffee, flicked on the television, and sat down to listen to the news and weather report.

  The coffee was good and hot and went down smooth. The weather forecast, on the other hand, was a different story.

  “Welcome to sunny Australia, Jessie Rose,” he muttered, his voice flat and monotonous as he placed the empty cup on the tray. No visiting any of our magnificent beaches today. A sideways glance at the digital clock revealed it was time to make a move at last.

  Whip caught the elevator to the ground floor and instructed one of the hotel staff to bring up his car from the basement garage. It took longer than expected and he found himself getting twitchy for no good reason. His eyes went to his watch for the third time just as The Beast came into view, and he was surprised to see only five minutes had elapsed. Seriously, he needed to chill.

  “Nice wheels,” the youth praised as he stepped out of the car.

  “Thanks.” The kid didn’t know it yet, but it was his lucky day. The smallest note Whip had on him was a twenty. Tipping wasn’t customary, but he handed it over with a smile before climbing into the driver’s seat and shifting into first.

  The rain held off but was still threatening as he steered the vehicle onto the road and into the congested stop-start early morning traffic. Why anyone would choose to live in a big noisy city was beyond him.

  Forty minutes later, he pulled into the airport car park just as the pewter sky opened in a deluge. The Beast wasn’t as pretty as when he’d started, but the heavy rain would wash off much of the grime, and he’d run it through a car wash or give it a good scrub when he got home. With his Akubra jammed on his head, he grabbed the stuffed toy from the seat beside him, stepped out onto the asphalt, and made a dash for the terminal.

  He was almost fifteen minutes late. He hadn’t counted on the Sydney traffic being so heavy. Not that it would matter much. Getting through customs and immigration would, in all probability, take longer than that. But he was excited about meeting Jessie Rose and wanted to be there waiting when she walked into the arrivals area.

  They hadn’t exchanged photos. Jessie Rose wanted the mystery, the intrigue, and he didn’t give a hoot. Whatever made her happy was fine by him. She’d recognize him by his black Akubra hat and the toy koala he’d be carrying. He’d be looking for a brunette wearing a New York Yankees jacket with a red ribbon in her hair. And if they didn’t spot each other right away, well, there was always the paging service.

  The rain was sheeting as he hurried along the walkway. Although it was undercover, the sides were open, so his clothes ended up spotty. Not to matter, though. Nothing was going to dampen his spirits today.

  Inside the terminal, the buzz of excitement was contagious, and he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from lifting as he headed for the flight information screens.

  Jessica’s flight had landed a little early. Damn. He frowned and rushed to the arrival gate indicated. The first of the passengers were just beginning to filter through. His pulse quickened, and he narrowed his eyes and did a sweeping search of the female passengers without any luck. Twenty minutes later, doubts niggled. He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted from one foot to the other. Where was she?

  Anxious to make a spectacular impression, the first thing Jessica did after collecting her bag and clearing customs was to make for the ladies’ room. Before leaving the States, she’d gone to considerable trouble with her appearance, but the long flight combined with the sixteen-hour time difference had taken its toll. She felt grimy, and the restroom mirror revealed a rather shabby and disheveled young woman. She’d just intended to fix her hair and makeup, but was delighted to see showers were available. A towel could also be purchased for a small fee. She’d packed a change of clothes and underwear in her cabin luggage, so wasted no time in freshening up.

  Ten minutes later, dried and dressed and feeling like a new woman, Jessica reached into her handbag, pulled out her makeup, and applied it in record time with a practiced hand. Next, she dragged a brush through her long hair, added a red ribbon, and tied it in a bow atop her head just off center.

  This time, the reflection showed a woman with a bad hairdo. “Mutton dressed as lamb,” to quote her mother. She crinkled her nose and tugged the ribbon from her hair with disgust. She then gathered her brown locks into a side ponytail and refastened the ribbon. Vast improvement. Now if she could just lose about fifteen pounds, she’d almost be fetching. With a half-smile and a dab of perfume behind both ears and to each wrist, she was ready to go.

  Jessica took in a deep breath and whooshed it out slowly. Her suitcase had wheels and her cabin luggage was light enough to hoist over her shoulder, so with a thrumming heart, jelly legs, and a mix of fear and anticipation thickening her throat, she gathered her gear and made for the arrivals lounge.

  This was it, the point of no return. Whip was on the other side and the long wait was almost over. She’d been both dreading and looking forward to this moment for almost two weeks. There was no going back now.

  As she approached the doorway that separated Whip from her, disturbing thoughts crashed into her mind. What if he was disappointed with her? What if he disliked her on sight, or, heaven forbid, what if he’d changed his mind and stood her up?

  Her stomach churned, and she gulped a breath. No, stop. That was just silly, no way he’d do that, but there was a good chance he’d feel let down when he saw her. Too darn late to worry about that now, though.

  So with her head held high and rolling her bag behind her, she walked through the doorway and into the busy arrivals section.

  The place was crowded, almost chaotic, and the atmosphere, a din of noisy excitement, was a little daunting. Laughter and tears filled the room as people hugged and greeted one another while others waited with eager hearts for their loved ones to appear.

  She spotted Whip right away. He dwarfed every other man around. In her mind’s eye, she’d pictured him to be an average Joe, much like she was. Average height, average looks, just another ordinary face in the crowd.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  There was nothing ordinary or average about Whip McGregor. He towered over everyone around and could have stepped out of the pages of Sports Illustrated, or even off of a movie set. Boy oh boy was he going to be ever so disappointed when he laid eyes on her. He
’d take one look and demand a refund.

  Her mouth drooped and she wondered when the next flight back to New York was due out.

  The urge to turn tail and run was strong, but she stilled her feet, sorry now they hadn’t exchanged photos. Bad move on her part. Had she known he was drop-dead gorgeous, she may have balked at coming anyway. As it was, she slowed her approach. Her Internet lover was searching the crowd but hadn’t spotted her yet.

  As she watched, he shoved the koala under his arm, fished out a phone from his pocket, and answered a call, giving her time to give him a more thorough once-over.

  A lock of coffee-colored hair peeked out from under his black Akubra hat and spilled onto his forehead. His sexy mouth was topped with a light moustache and dark stubble shadowed his chiseled jaw. A white button-down shirt hugged shoulders that were two pick handles wide and low-riding denims defined taut, muscled thighs. Built big and powerful, he radiated strength and sensuality. Eye candy at its yummiest. No paper bag needed here. A Hugh Jackman lookalike who’d turn Trish green with envy when she saw the pics.