Chapter 40.1

Never mind that her insides were churning with the need to hang on to this man. He was under contract to finish his movie. Begging him to stay was not an option, anyway.

'Megan…you will use the money,' he said forcefully, his tone strained with uncertainty.

Why would he doubt it? Because of having sex with her last night? Did he think that might have somehow tainted his investment? That her pride would stop her from using it?

'Yes, I will, Johnny,' she assured him. 'Gundamurra needs it,' she added to put everything in its proper perspective.

'Right!' he agreed, relief obvious.

He cared about Gundamurra. That, at least, they had in common. But would he come back? They had walked past most of the buildings before Megan screwed up the necessary courage to say, 'I don't want you to feel bad about last night, Johnny. It's nothing for you to worry about.'

'Nothing?' He repeated the word as though it was intensely offensive.

Megan inwardly cringed. The last thing she wanted was to sound scornful of what he'd given her. Her mind whirled, seeking ways to fix his impression. 'I just meant…it was good for me.'

'But this is the cut-off line,' he muttered derisively.

She tried again. 'You're leaving. I don't want you to be concerned about it. That's all.'

'Over and done with.'

'I hope it was good for you, too,' she rushed out, hating the way he was bringing down the curtain when she desperately wanted him to keep caring about her.

His fingers almost crushed hers before he realised what he was doing and relaxed his grip. 'Will you e-mail me?

Give me reports on how things are going here? I want to know, Megan,' he said tersely.

If it was a test for how she really felt about continuing a relationship with him, Megan was only too happy to comply with what he required. 'Yes, I will,' she said firmly.

'Good!' Again he squeezed her hand, but not as tightly as before.

Her head was almost giddy with relief. He was inviting her to have regular contact with him…if he replied to her e- mails. She couldn't really count on that. Once he was back to making his movie, caught up in such a different world over there…but he couldn't completely forget her. Even if he got involved with another woman, making love to her would trigger memories…wouldn't it?

Her stomach felt like a worm farm.

She fiercely told herself she had no personal claim on him. Had no right to make one. Yet everything within her burned with a deeply primitive desire to have him as hers and hers alone.

The Land Rover stood just ahead of them, Johnny's Cessna behind it, ready for take off.

'If the shooting of the movie runs to schedule, it should be finished in three months,' he informed her. 'Do you have any problem with my coming back then, Megan?'

'No,' she shot out, elated that he had no problem with it. 'You'll always be welcome home, Johnny,' she added as warmly as she could, acutely aware of not having welcomed him for far too many years.

He stopped, pausing her, as well. Drawn by the mountain of tension emanating from him, Megan half- turned, steeling herself to glance up at him. He stepped to face her full on, his free hand lifting, tilting back the wide- brimmed Akubra hat she always wore outside to protect her fair skin from the sun. His eyes were a piercing green, scouring hers for truth.

'Do you mean that, Megan?'

She held his gaze with determined steadiness. 'I do, Johnny. I'm deeply sorry I was such a mean bitch to you.' She managed an appealing little smile as she finally acknowledged, 'My father knew best.'

His face relaxed, returning a smile that held whimsical irony. 'Patrick…yes…I think he did.' His voice was furred with feelings, instantly stirring up her own.

A huge lump of emotion welled into her throat. Tears pricked her eyes. Desperate to keep this leave-taking on some kind of even keel, she babbled, 'I hope your movie goes well.'

Still the whimsical half smile. 'More important is the movie of my life.'

She didn't understand.

He saw the confusion in her eyes and quoted…

"'All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and their entrances: And one man in his time plays many parts."

Shakespeare.'

He gave the credit drily, then added, 'I'm not entirely uneducated, Megan.'

'You've taken out honours in the school of life, Johnny,' she quickly replied, wanting to acknowledge how wrong she'd been in her judgement of him.

He shook his head, as though his successes were irrelevant. 'I wish I didn't have to make this exit, leaving you with so much work to carry through alone.' His voice gathered an urgent intensity and he took both her hands in his in pressing persuasion. 'Promise me you'll let me know if you run into difficulties that seem insurmountable.'

And he'd come running to the rescue? Maybe he would…for Gundamurra.

But for her?

'Okay. But this is my stage, Johnny,' she felt compelled to remind him. 'I know how to play it. And I don't want other roles. This is who I am.'

He nodded. His eyelids lowered to half-mast, thick lashes veiling the expression in his eyes. He took a deep breath as though inwardly gathering strength for what he had to say next. All Megan's senses were on sharp alert, anxious to glean some hint of what he was thinking. Yet when he spoke, they were simple words of farewell.

'Until next time.'

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then stood back, smiling a full blast of Johnny Ellis charm.

'I like your hair loose. They say a woman's hair is her crowning glory. Yours outshines all the rest, Megan.'

His hands slid from hers and he was off, striding for the open door of the waiting plane.

Was her cheek better than her forehead? Megan wondered as she watched him go. Her hat would have made her forehead a harder place to reach. Better that he hadn't kissed her mouth, she told herself. It would have been too tempting to cling to him, turn it into more than a friendly goodbye kiss.

Next time, she kept repeating in her mind. The door of the plane was closed.

She waited for Johnny to make this exit from her life, listening to the plane's engines starting up, watching the wheels begin to roll, picking up speed, lifting off the dirt airstrip, her eyes following the flight of the Cessna until it was a distant speck in the sky.

Only then did she realise she'd been winding her hair around her fingers—hair she'd left loose this morning because she hadn't wanted to look neutered.

It outshines all the rest, he'd said.

She wanted to believe it wasn't just charm, that his last smile to her meant that he did see her as a very special woman in his life.

Uniquely special.

But she'd have to wait for his next entrance to know if that was true.