again!”
Jed feels the near miss heat of a blast of napalm directed at him and offers a sympathetic smile. “Okay, fire eyes, take it easy! Let’s enjoy the champagne and the view.” He pulls the cork on the second bottle.
Alex turns toward him. “That’s it!”
“It certainly is,” Jed says. “A great view, great champagne and great company,” happy the napalm has burnt out.
“No! That’s not what I mean! Fire eyes. Fire Eye! That’s what I mean. Karl was offered something called ‘Fire Eye’. He said no and gave it back.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jed asks, delicately balancing disbelief and excitement.
“Yes, I am! The fire I remember flickered inside the shape of an eye. Red and yellow flames, inside an oval shape. Not a camp fire or anything else. Something he was offered.”
“There’s a library inside. I’d like to check it out,” Jed says. “Like to bring your drink.” It is clearly a statement, not a question.
Alex picks up her drink with a questioning look and follows him into the homestead. Jed heads into the library room with its wooden bookcases lining the walls. Australiana, novels, photography books and miscellanea cram the shelves he scans with a practised eye.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
“Yes indeed,” Jed responds and keeps scanning, his finger guiding his eyes across each shelf left to right.
Malena comes into the room checking for glasses and sees his focussed attention. “Do you require any assistance?”
“Yes, possibly,” Jed replies. “It’s a long shot. I’m after a particular book.
Ships in the Coral
by Holthouse. Hector Holthouse.”
“That sounds like a rare one,” Malena says. “If there’s a copy, it would be in the private collection. I’ll go and check.”
“You know your books,” Alex comments, intrigued by another facet of Jed.
Jed likes that she has made time to notice something deeply personal about him! He could easily take this woman to bed; a dangerous step—one night stands are not part of his vocabulary. He keeps his thoughts well camouflaged. “I like my books. I’m also blessed with a good memory, but I don’t always use it. Got me through university though.”
Malena is back in minutes carrying a book. “Is this what you’re after?” After passing it carefully to Jed, she puts down a plate of biscuits, cheese and olives as a pre-dinner snack.
“That’s it, thank you.” Jed takes the volume over to a lounge chair and sits down, beckoning Alex to a take a seat next to him. He flicks through the book carefully, stopping at page nine. “Can you manage being read to?”
“I love being read too!” Alex responds with a childlike purr, picking up some snacks and settling into the chair with her champagne. “I’m all ears!”
Jed eyes her reclining figure and enjoys the transformation. So far he has seen the hard-headed business woman, the sensual dancer, the confident woman taking command of a handgun or aircraft and, now, the hint of innocence. Once again he feels arousal stirring. He squashes it quickly out of double guilt. He knows that attraction is not a straight uphill march but a journey of rises and falls. He is intrigued but shoves philosophy to one side and starts reading.
“‘The legend of Fire Eye has more variations than most,’” he reads from the book held in his lap, angled slightly to catch the light. “‘According to one version, a vessel assumed to have been Spanish was caught in a sudden storm and wrecked on a reef at the northeastern end of Stephens Island.’ That’s up the top of Cape York,” he explains before continuing. “‘About twelve white people including the captain and his wife put off in a boat and managed to get through to the beach. As the exhausted castaways staggered up the beach they were rushed by islanders and all of them were killed except the captain’s wife whom the chief took to his hut. She wore elaborate clothing and a great many glittering
Jed feels the near miss heat of a blast of napalm directed at him and offers a sympathetic smile. “Okay, fire eyes, take it easy! Let’s enjoy the champagne and the view.” He pulls the cork on the second bottle.
Alex turns toward him. “That’s it!”
“It certainly is,” Jed says. “A great view, great champagne and great company,” happy the napalm has burnt out.
“No! That’s not what I mean! Fire eyes. Fire Eye! That’s what I mean. Karl was offered something called ‘Fire Eye’. He said no and gave it back.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jed asks, delicately balancing disbelief and excitement.
“Yes, I am! The fire I remember flickered inside the shape of an eye. Red and yellow flames, inside an oval shape. Not a camp fire or anything else. Something he was offered.”
“There’s a library inside. I’d like to check it out,” Jed says. “Like to bring your drink.” It is clearly a statement, not a question.
Alex picks up her drink with a questioning look and follows him into the homestead. Jed heads into the library room with its wooden bookcases lining the walls. Australiana, novels, photography books and miscellanea cram the shelves he scans with a practised eye.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
“Yes indeed,” Jed responds and keeps scanning, his finger guiding his eyes across each shelf left to right.
Malena comes into the room checking for glasses and sees his focussed attention. “Do you require any assistance?”
“Yes, possibly,” Jed replies. “It’s a long shot. I’m after a particular book.
Ships in the Coral
by Holthouse. Hector Holthouse.”
“That sounds like a rare one,” Malena says. “If there’s a copy, it would be in the private collection. I’ll go and check.”
“You know your books,” Alex comments, intrigued by another facet of Jed.
Jed likes that she has made time to notice something deeply personal about him! He could easily take this woman to bed; a dangerous step—one night stands are not part of his vocabulary. He keeps his thoughts well camouflaged. “I like my books. I’m also blessed with a good memory, but I don’t always use it. Got me through university though.”
Malena is back in minutes carrying a book. “Is this what you’re after?” After passing it carefully to Jed, she puts down a plate of biscuits, cheese and olives as a pre-dinner snack.
“That’s it, thank you.” Jed takes the volume over to a lounge chair and sits down, beckoning Alex to a take a seat next to him. He flicks through the book carefully, stopping at page nine. “Can you manage being read to?”
“I love being read too!” Alex responds with a childlike purr, picking up some snacks and settling into the chair with her champagne. “I’m all ears!”
Jed eyes her reclining figure and enjoys the transformation. So far he has seen the hard-headed business woman, the sensual dancer, the confident woman taking command of a handgun or aircraft and, now, the hint of innocence. Once again he feels arousal stirring. He squashes it quickly out of double guilt. He knows that attraction is not a straight uphill march but a journey of rises and falls. He is intrigued but shoves philosophy to one side and starts reading.
“‘The legend of Fire Eye has more variations than most,’” he reads from the book held in his lap, angled slightly to catch the light. “‘According to one version, a vessel assumed to have been Spanish was caught in a sudden storm and wrecked on a reef at the northeastern end of Stephens Island.’ That’s up the top of Cape York,” he explains before continuing. “‘About twelve white people including the captain and his wife put off in a boat and managed to get through to the beach. As the exhausted castaways staggered up the beach they were rushed by islanders and all of them were killed except the captain’s wife whom the chief took to his hut. She wore elaborate clothing and a great many glittering
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