The Auction a Romance by Anna Erishkigal Read online

  "By the river, maybe?"

  "Maybe."

  The silence stretched between us again. It was his turn to make a move. I held my breath. Over the past few weeks, a pattern had developed to our small talk. On the third volley, sometimes Adam opened up a little in this awkward game where we pretended to act like an old married couple … only without the good parts like the cuddling and the sex.

  "I have tomorrow off," Adam said at last. "Maybe we could hike downriver and see if we can find anything? If nothing else, maybe Pippa will find it interesting to walk the property."

  I felt a tiny thrill of victory and rewarded him with a smile. "I'll pack a lunch."

  We finished our beers in silence. Adam glanced surreptitiously at my legs which peeked out from the slit in my bathrobe, while I studied his chiseled features from beneath my eyelashes as I pretended to read. That constant sexual tension began to rise along with my temperature, causing me to perspire beneath my bathrobe. To go to bed with my boss would be really stupid, but dang! The mere sight of the man had me squirming in my seat!

  Adam rose to his feet and took my bottle as soon as I'd taken the last sip.

  "If you don't mind," he said. "I'm really zonked. Pippa will have me up at dawn."

  His suntanned features wore an expression that was almost wistful, as though the last thing he wanted to do was go to bed. At least not alone…

  I gave him a silent nod. We were playing with fire. We both knew it. The worst thing that could happen was if Adam and I succumbed to the urge to do what two normal, healthy adults usually did when they found themselves thrown under the same roof for weeks on end. How would we explain it to Pippa in the morning? Hi! I decided to start sleeping with your father…

  Besides … Adam was still technically married.

  Who cared? He was going through a divorce!

  Adam cared. The man was old-fashioned as hell…

  'Never get involved with a man on the rebound,' my friend Sienna used to say.

  Argh! Stop dancing around my fire and go away!

  I realized Adam hadn't moved.

  "Goodnight, Adam," I said.

  "Goodnight, Rosie. Tomorrow we'll try to find your petroglyphs."

  I noted how weary he looked as he shuffled down to his bedroom. The poor bastard worked from before dawn to darkness, six days a week. Some nights, even though he never spoke of whatever drama went on between him and his ex-wife, he came home so tense and weary that I often worried he might keel over. Perhaps Adam's mother had merely been trying to ask me to let the poor man cook his kangaroo meat by my fire and warm his feet?

  I ran my finger over a photograph of a Mimi, somewhat similar to the one I'd seen in my dream; a mystical creature which had taken pity on the First Australians. Tomorrow morning, I would drag my sorry butt out of bed and intercept Pippa before she could pounce on her father so the poor battler could get some rest on his only day off.

  Chapter 13

  Pippa bustled around the kitchen, a temperamental ball of impatience as we packed our lunches to bring on our hike. As she shoved the sandwiches into the lunch boxes, three for the people and one for the dog, her tiny pink lips pursed into a displeased grimace.

  “Is Daddy ready yet?”

  “Not yet. These things take a while.”

  “He said it would only take a minute.” She crossed her arms and tapped impatiently on her bicep.

  “Let me check."

  I peeked into the bathroom where Adam lay upon his back on the salmon-pink speckled tiles, his head buried underneath the sink. The clink-clack-clatter of a pipe wrench clued me that he wasn’t done. Rather than disturb him, I drank in the way his tight blue jeans tugged against his thighs and drew my eye to certain portions of his anatomy that a lady would not ogle.

  I guess that meant I was no lady, for my clothing grew uncomfortably warm as I daydreamed about matters of size and fit that had nothing to do with the plumbing Adam had decided to pull apart.

  The clatter of the pipe wrench against the tiles made me jump.

  “Dang!” Adam muttered.

  He picked the wrench up and finished what he was doing, and then sat up, his blue-green eyes startled when he saw I stood in the doorway. He held out a rag that contained within it a disgusting, tangled mess of long, black hair.

  “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to brush your hair over the sink?”

  I gave him a sheepish smile.

  “Sorry,” I lied. “I had no idea it would clog the drain.”

  Adam glanced down at the mess which had made the sink stop up.

  “It’s not just you. There’s blonde hair in here as well!”

  “Who, yours?” I teased.

  Adam snorted. “Hardly. Not unless my hair is a meter long.”

  I picked up the waste bucket and held it out for him to plop the disgusting hairball into the trash, and then stood there, arms crossed, watching as he dove back underneath the sink to piece the cleanout trap back together. When he came back up again, he held the pipe wrench like a scepter.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Pippa’s getting antsy. She sent me down to supervise.”

  Adam handed me the pipe wrench which had a disgusting, slime-like substance smeared along the handle. It smelled of iron, machine oil, and chemicals.

  “Here. Make yourself useful.”

  I could tell from the evil way his sandy brown eyebrows rose up into a ‘V’ that he enjoyed my expression of revulsion. I held the pipe wrench out the way one might a toxic substance as he heaved his tall frame off the floor and stood over me, his broad shoulders taking up most of the tiny bathroom.

  “Got a problem?” he smirked.

  “No.” I forced myself not to grimace. “I’m a horse girl, remember? I grew up shoveling manure.”

  “Ah, yes, our sweet Rosamond is no prima donna.” Adam grinned. “I rather like that about you. You just man up and take it on the chin.”

  “I’m no man, Adam.”

  “No.” Adam’s voice grew husky. “You most definitely are not a man.”

  I was suddenly aware how close Adam's head towered to the modest ceiling and the way his narrow hips just barely had enough room to turn in the tiny confines of the salmon pink bathroom. The scent of musk and male, blended with the spicy scent of sandalwood and citrus, swirled around me and made me feel weak in the knees. Adam's blue-green eyes turned a dark ocean blue. He leaned closer and inhaled the scent of my shampoo.

  “That’s a nice perfume,” he said softly. “What is it?”

  “Herbal Essence.”

  I swayed towards him, drawn to his fire like a moth. This was the Adam the rest of the world saw; the stud stallion in charge of his herd, not the angsty, wounded creature that only appeared within the confines of this house.

  “I like it—” he touched my hair. “It smells nice without being overbearing.”

  Adam stared at my mouth. We broke apart by the same unspoken rules which had kept us circling one another for weeks. I could almost hear him chiding himself, ‘What are you doing? You are still a married man.’

  “Let me get cleaned up,” Adam said. “I will be out in just a minute.”

  “Not until you take this.” I held out the pipe wrench.

  Adam grabbed a hideous old towel and used it to take the tool from my hands. That evil, devilish eyebrow reappeared as he watched me grimace. I left him to wash his hands and mop up whatever other disgusting substances had dripped out of the drain he’d pulled apart to remove the hair. Gregory wouldn’t have been caught dead cleaning out his own plumbing! Not that I was much better … I had no idea how to use a pipe wrench … but at least I’d learned to master a plumber’s snake and copious amounts of Drano.

  Pippa looked up as I walked back into the kitchen, my hands held up before me like a surgeon who had just scrubbed out for surgery.

  “Ugh!”

  I strode straight over to the sink to sterilize my hands with dish soap and scalding water.
r />   “Is Daddy ready yet?” Pippa's voice had a petulant, whiny quality this morning. She'd been less than pleased when I'd refused to let her wake her father up at dawn, especially as he'd slept until nearly nine-thirty.

  “Be patient, nipper. Be thankful your Daddy knows how to fix stuff.”

  “Mommy says that’s what workmen are for.”

  “Oh?” I arched an eyebrow at her. “And what’s wrong with being a workman?”

  Pippa fidgeted and glanced towards the dog. This was, I suspected, an echo of her mother’s attitude towards her father.

  “Someday you’ll realize there's nothing more disgusting than a man who thinks so highly of himself that he’s afraid to get his hands dirty.”

  Pippa stared down at the ground. The sound of Adam clearing his throat behind me made me jump.

  “Adam.”

  “Rosie.” Adam appeared to be amused.

  Pink warmth flooded up into my ears.

  “Can we go now, Daddy?” Pippa asked.

  “Sure,” Adam said. “But only after Rosie washes the slime off of her hands.”

  I punched him in the bicep with my still-wet fist.

  Adam grinned, a big, broad, beautiful smile. Oh, God! It made my chest hurt when he smiled at me like that! How I wished he was happy and well-rested more often. Without a word he grabbed the backpack with our lunch and a brown drover's hat which made him look like a jackaroo. I knew better than to argue with him. Adam always insisted on carrying the load.

  Pippa ditched us the moment we stepped outside, running after the dog with reckless abandon. We pushed our way through the tall, golden grass which lined the path to river. The hot summer wind rustled through the stalks and dislodged an army of grasshoppers, butterflies, and the occasional buzz of a bumblebee. The seasonal drought had caused the river to sink beneath its riverbank and there were now many spots where rocks peeked above the waterline.

  “Which way?” I asked.

  "Why don't we try downriver?"

  Adam stepped down the embankment and helped Pippa, and then me, to get down to the narrow sandy beach which had opened up as the river receded. His hands lingered on my waist as he steadied me on the shore. My pulse fluttered faster as I stared up at him, impossibly tall and handsome.

  What are you thinking, Adam? I wish you would give me clearer signals?

  He let go of my waist and stepped back. But then he held out his arm so I could take his elbow as we skittered over a few remaining rocks. We looked over the river and Adam frowned.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "The river shouldn't be this low this early in the season."

  A lazy stick floated sluggishly past. Pippa kicked off her shoes. As much as I was tempted to beat the rising heat by wallowing in the languid current, I wanted to find the petroglyphs in my dream.

  "Does it ever run dry?" I asked.

  "It did during the Millennium Drought," Adam said. "But at this part of the river we still had a string of pools."

  "Do you think it will get that low this year?"

  "I don't know," Adam said. "Usually it takes several years of drought in a row for the river to fail to flow, but the towns along the river have built up more since then, so they pump out a lot more water."

  "The radio said the stations in the outback are doing really badly?"

  "Yeah."

  Adam's mouth tightened into a grim line. Every week he spent time in the Surat Basin where the people were dirt poor and he worried constantly about how his work might impact their wells. I made a mental note to ask him about it the next time I needed a neutral topic of conversation.

  "Can I swim, Daddy?" Pippa interrupted.

  "Not yet, Miss Muffet," Adam said. "Let's walk first, and then the water will feel really good."

  In a land prone to drought, a river is a magical place, teeming with vegetation, tall river gum trees, wallabies, and the scent of moisture so thick and fertile it sits on the palette like fine champagne. Above my head, a rufous lark tweeted his cheerful song from the canopy of a eucalyptus, while at my feet, his less musical bowerbird cousin gave a throaty 'gwok' and danced to find his mate. I watched the little dark bird flare his wings and dance around his elaborate bower, surrounded by bits of blue string, bottle caps, and blue broken glass to attract a female. He reminded me of the Mimi, dancing in the petroglyph.

  In some places the beach turned into mud and, in each instance, Adam gave me a helping hand. At one point the exposed beach narrowed as the river turned a bend. Rather than follow Pippa through the mud, I scrambled up the embankment and made my way through the tall, grassy scrub, staring upwards at the tall gum trees, hoping to spot a rare koala. Just as I went to put my foot down, a stick reared up at me and hissed

  "Eeyah!" I gave out a high-pitched scream.

  The brown 'stick' writhed to face me and bared its fangs like a brown king cobra. I jumped back and narrowly avoided being bitten.

  "Adam!"

  My heart pounded as I stepped backwards and tripped. Instead of fleeing like any other snake would have done, the Eastern Brown Snake pursued me, its forked tongue darting out as the deadly viper twisted towards me. I crawled backwards like a crab and screamed again.

  "Ad-am!"

  A dark shape leaped over me and landed.

  "Hey-yaH!" Adam pulled off his hat and waved it at the snake, hat in one hand, his other bare hand grabbing at the rear. His eyes were intense as he grabbed at the snake's tail, and then yanked his hand back just in time before it struck.

  "Here, girl. Look this way." He waved his hat inches from the viper's reared head, directing its attention away from me. "That's right, girl. Pay attention to me."

  It struck.

  Adam danced backwards, surprisingly agile for a man so tall.

  The snake reared up at him again. It was as thick as my wrist and more than a meter long, but all I could do was stare at the brown coloration which betrayed this was the second most venomous snake in the world.

  Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Adam's about to get bitten!

  I lay there, paralyzed, a terrified, stupid, useless woman as Adam waved his hands at the snake and coaxed it to go after him.

  "C'mere, girl! C'mere girl!" He waved his hat. "C'mon, girl. Look at me."

  Pippa's head popped over the riverbank, clueless as to what was going on.

  "Daddy?"

  "Pippa, stay away!"

  Adam stepped back. The snake moved like lighting. I saw it bite into his pants leg. Pippa and I both screamed at the same time. It was her terror which finally shook me out of my lethargy. Stupid idiot, MOVE! I scrambled to my feet and grabbed her before she could try to help her father. My heart pounded to escape my ribcage.

  God! Please! Don't let Pippa see her father get killed.

  I pulled her face into my chest. Pippa hit at me, trying to break free.

  The snake reared up and hissed it's horrible, breathy sound. Adam moved so the snake headed towards him and away from us. He looked strangely confident for a man who was about to die.

  "Get Pippa out of the strike zone!" Adam shouted.

  "Daddy!!!" Pippa struck at me and tried to break away.

  I dragged her backwards to prevent her from running towards him.

  "C'mere, girl, c'mere, girl. Come on, you bloody viper."

  Adam's eyes turned an intense, brilliant green, the same color as the scrub brush as he reached for the snake and then leaped back as it struck at him again and again. Any other snake would have fled, but the Eastern Brown Snake lived up to its reputation as the most venomous, and aggressive, snake in Australia by rearing up to pursue Adam instead of me.

  The snake struck. Adam dodged, and then grabbed the viper by its tail. He stood up and held it out at arm's length, a meter and a half long tube of deadly muscle.

  Ack! Adam's got a viper by the tail!

  Adam grinned as the snake bit his boot.

  "Oy! Yer a right good bloody bludger," Adam said in a broad, country accent. He stepped caref
ully for perhaps a hundred meters, stopping to snap his wrist each time the snake tried to twist up far enough to bite his arm, until he reached a cluster of bushes.

  "Go on, now. Get stuffed."

  Adam let go of the snake and leaped away. This time, the snake decided to retreat. Adam stood, staring after it until he was certain it had truly gone, and then he turned, his expression worried as he walked towards where I clung to Pippa, shivering.

  "Did it bite you, Rosie?"

  "I-I-I don't think so." I pulled Pippa closer. "I didn't see it until I almost stepped on it."

  "Let me check." Adam's eyes shot down to my bare legs. "They've got short fangs, so sometimes they can bite without you realizing it.

  He made me sit down and ran his hands up my ankles, my calves, and my legs, and then he checked my hands, the soles of my feet and even my toes. An intense trembling shook my flesh that had nothing to do with desire as his hands moved up my inner thighs.

  "I'm okay," I said. "What about you? I saw it bite you."

  Adam held out his hand.

  "See, no bites," Adam grinned. "It only bit my boots."

  "I've never seen such an aggressive snake," I said. "And you … where'd you learn to wrangle a snake like that?"

  "You don't grow up on a cattle station and not learn how to deal with brown snakes," Adam said. "Why do you think I keep the grass clipped so short around the house?"

  He rose to his feet, tall and imposing, and gave Pippa a hug. She pressed her face into his belly, but she seemed to be less upset about it than I was, likely because she had no idea the Eastern Brown Snake was venomous.

  "Next time, Miss Rosamond," he gently scolded, "watch where you step. The best way to deal with a viper is to never tangle with it in the first place."

  He gave me a hand up. I dusted the dirt off my shorts, wishing fervently now that I'd worn jeans, boots, and maybe a spacesuit, and followed behind as he and Pippa talked about the many snakes he'd wrangled over the years. How could a man be so bloody cautious about dealing with a woman, but put a snake in front of him, and the man turned into Superman?

  I stuck closer to him this time as we finished our hike, dropping back down into the riverbed as soon as the beach widened out again. After that, Pippa didn't get too far ahead, but she began to taunt us.