So many times when Kelly had given him physiotherapy, she had wanted to touch him, not in the limited way she had, but to run her hands over the fine muscular tone of his body with sensual pleasure, to explore the firm texture of his flesh, to feel its warmth, its power, its raw masculinity.

She wouldn't let him stop her now. Wouldn't let him stop anything. She slid her hand down to pluck open the buttons of his shirt, felt his chest heave under her touch, thrilled to the rise of his excitement.

He tore his mouth from hers, pulled off his shirt, then slowly, gently peeled her camisole top upwards, his hands capturing her breasts, cupping their tender fullness, softly fondling for several breathtaking moments before he finished removing the flimsy garment.

He pulled her back against him, cried something unintelligible at the first brush of her flesh against his, then crushed her to him in a fierce embrace, showering hot kisses across her hair, rubbing his cheek over their path.

Kelly raked her fingers down his back, tasted the warm skin of his shoulder, rubbed her breasts sensuously against his chest, gloried in their semi- nakedness… man and woman.

Justin lifted her off her feet, carried her to the bed, dragged away her slacks and briefs, tossed her sandals aside. He looked down at her, touched her, his hand quivering across her flesh in hungry desire before he snatched it away to remove the rest of his clothes.

He came to her with all the tense urgency of his need, yet delayed the moment of ultimate intimacy, plunging both of them into a wild exploration of sensation, the heightening of every sensitivity of skin against skin, texture, taste, touch, smell, sliding from one exquisite pleasure into another until stimulation and response peaked at the screaming demand for the total merging of one with the other.

Kelly's whole body convulsed in spasms of melting ecstasy as Justin finally pushed inside her. In that moment she wondered why it was always referred to as a man's act of possession. She knew she possessed him. He was hers. And every full, warm thrust of him was a glorious confirmation that he belonged with her, in her, and the union, could never be sundered now.

She felt the jerking spill of his climax, hugged him tightly as the last tension eased away, and held him inside her, melting around him, bonding forever.

He brushed his lips over the soft, ecstatic curve of hers. Their breaths mingled. Their mouths mingled. A sealing of utter oneness… peace… contentment… fulfilment of every promise there ever was in the mating of a man and a woman.

It was complete. They would always be together from this time onwards.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It began as a small wisp of uncertainty, the nagging knowledge that something had been forgotten. Kelly lay in Justin's arms, reluctant to admit anything that might intrude on their wonderful intimacy.

All the barriers Justin had tried to erect between them had disintegrated in the heat of their passion for each other. He seemed to delight in holding her close to him, caressing her softly with his fingertips. It gave her the feeling that she was infinitely precious to him, a possession he would cherish forever. As she would cherish him.

She basked in that thought for many long, satisfying moments. The memory of what had initially prompted her visit to Marian Park filtered into her consciousness. It jolted Kelly out of her delicious languor.

Octavian Augustus the Fourth! That had been the real reason for her coming to Justin. Kelly was swamped by a terrible wave of confusion.

'When do you want to be married?'

Justin's voice was a murmur of deep satisfaction, thrilling Kelly on one level, but raising panic on another. She had to tell him about the ram, but if he misunderstood…

Her arms convulsively tightened around him. Her mind darted in all directions, driven by the need to hold Justin's confidence in her love. She had fought so hard. He had surrendered. Nothing must shake their understanding now.

'Justin…' Her mouth had gone so dry, she had to work some moisture into it. 'I want…I want you to come down and meet Grandpa,' she said, frantically postponing the moment of truth.

He kissed her hair. 'Is it so necessary to tell him straight away that we're getting married?' he murmured, no more inclined to interrupt the magic of their togetherness than she was.

Kelly's brain skimmed over the responses. She could say that they had found Octavian Augustus the Fourth wandering around Grandpa's property, that they had picked him up and were keeping him safe in the kitchen. That…

But she couldn't and wouldn't start her marriage to Justin by telling a lie! That was no foundation for trust and understanding.

Kelly braced herself with all the courage she could muster. 'Grandpa… Judge Moffat… they have a confession they want to make to you,' she said, desperately trying to slide into the sensitive subject as tactfully as possible.

It was not only her and Justin's relationship at stake, but also the future relationship between him and Grandpa and the judge and probably the whole community of Crooked Creek.

Justin lifted his head to look into her eyes with a softly quizzical expression. 'A confession? I don't understand. Does it have something to do with us?'

The hands running over her hips ceased their movement as he waited for her answer. Kelly's heart seemed to thump right up to her mouth. She held him a bit tighter.

'Justin, you're not going to believe this…' There was no good way of putting it. 'I think they will have to tell you themselves,' she said weakly.

His eyes sharpened with a flash of enlightenment. 'They wouldn't have--' The incredulous words clipped off with a dark frown. His chest heaved and fell. 'No! They couldn't! Kelly…' It was clear that he had leapt to the truth and didn't like the taste of it one bit.

'They didn't really steal him,' she rushed out. 'You mustn't think that, Justin.'

'But they've got him. Octavian Augustus the Fourth!' he stated grimly. 'Why?'

'It wasn't really stealing,' Kelly pleaded. 'Grandpa and Judge Moffat took him because of your deal with the Russians. They were going to ransom him back to you…well, not exactly ransom him… but kind of like Rasputin. Make you see reason…'

Justin's mouth thinned and Kelly plunged further into explanation, frantic to appease his wrath. 'Grandpa and the judge have been in the sheep business all their lives. They thought you were being very unpatriotic to sell our best bloodline to the Russians through the ewes. They're old men, Justin. They didn't think straight. And when all the fuss started, they didn't know what to do. Their pride wouldn't let them back down. And they couldn't get Octavian Augustus away with the search going on…'

'So they sent you up here.'

The words were a stinging indictment and a murderous rage suffused his face. He wrenched himself away from her and was off the bed before Kelly could utter a protest. He towered over her, emanating all the ruthless power that Kelly had sensed in him on their first meeting. And it paralysed her, strangling any word she might have said, thwarting any move she might have made.

'Get your clothes on, Kelly,' he commanded with icy, blistering authority.

'No,' she croaked, driven out of her shock by the dire necessity to fight his judgement. 'You don't understand…'

He dragged her out of his bed and set her on her feet. 'I was right when I said I was a fool this afternoon,' he grated, his eyes mincing her into contemptible little pieces. 'Let's not labour the point.'

'But that's not how it is!' Kelly cried in desperate denial.

His face tightened against any plea. 'Don't waste your breath. Or any more time. Get dressed.'