Home to Eden Read Online Free PDF

the tensions between them would never go away. But Nicole, like her tragic mother, took hold of the imagination and never let go.
    He moved toward her, glad for the little while she couldn’t see him but he could see her. Words would only tear them apart.
    Â 
    N ICOLE HAD READIED herself to grab the first case, when a man’s arm shot past her and a familiar male voice said near her ear, “Won’t you let me? The Vuitton, is it? What else?”
    She was paralyzed by shock, and her heart leaped to her throat. She spun around, feeling desperately in need of several deep breaths. “Drake?”
    For a mere instant there was that unspoken recognition of their physical attraction. “Nicole,” he answered suavely.
    â€œYou of all people!” She experienced a strong sense of dislocation, staring up at the commandingly tall young man in front of her. Two years her senior, Drake McClelland emanated strength and confidence, an air of authority he wore like a second skin. He had a darkly tanned face from his life in the sun, singularly striking hawkish features, thick, jet-black hair and dark eyes that were impossibly deep. “How absolutely extraordinary. I’ve hardly been back in the country twenty-four hours, yet you’re one of the first people I meet. What are you doing here?”
    He didn’t answer for a few moments, apparently preferring to concentrate on collecting her heavy suitcases and depositing them on the trolley, a task hemade look effortless. “Like you I’m a traveler returning home. You are returning home, Nicole?”
    She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “Yes. Were you on the flight from Sydney? I didn’t see you.”
    â€œMaybe I didn’t want you to,” he found himself saying unkindly, for he hadn’t sighted her, either.
    She winced slightly in response to his tone. “So things haven’t changed, it seems.” The last time she’d seen him, in June, it was at a picnic race meeting when inevitably their conversation, civil to begin with, had degenerated into passionate confrontation. Grievances were ageless.
    â€œNo.” His features hardened, but there was also a kind of sadness there.
    â€œHave you picked up your luggage yet?” she asked, simply for something to say. She was unnerved, amazed it was so, when for some years now they had lived in different worlds, coming into contact only when she was home. The place of her birth, though vast in size, was populated by a relative handful of people. Station people all knew one another. They were invited to the same functions and gatherings as a matter of course. She rarely refused an invitation when she was home, even if she knew perfectly well Drake would be there.
    â€œI didn’t have luggage, only an overnight bag,” Drake replied over his shoulder. “It’s with my driver. I’m flying out of Archerfield. The plane’s there. How are you getting home?”
    No smile. Curt tone. Always the overtones of authority.
    â€œI’m not ready to go home yet, Drake.” She studied his compelling face for a few seconds, then lookedaway. It made no sense to ache for what you weren’t allowed. “I’m too tired. Too much traveling. I can’t sleep on planes.”
    â€œNeither can I.” He gazed down at her moodily. “So what’s the plan? Stay overnight at a hotel and fly on tomorrow?”
    â€œSomething like that.” She flipped back a stray tendril, conscious she was swaying slightly on her feet and unable to do much about it.
    His hand shot out to steady her. “You look utterly played out.”
    â€œThank you, Drake,” she responded wryly, immediately aware of skin on skin, the crackling tension between them.
    He dropped his hand abruptly. “Where are you staying?”
    â€œThe Sheraton.”
    â€œThen I’ll give you a lift into the city.”
    She shook her head, feeling