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Chase didn’t think they looked perfect at all. There was a very pretty blonde one, dressed for some reason in a cowgirl outfit, and a brunette who looked as if she was off to a party in a skimpy dress and high heels, for God’s sake. She had a wide, lush mouth that sat oddly with the snooty expression she was wearing. Chase was hard put to decide which of them looked more ridiculous.
Suitable? Perfect? Thanks, Nick, he sighed inwardly. Personally, he had them down as nothing but trouble.
Which was all he needed right now.
Outwardly, he looked from one to the other, trying to guess which one was Emily Williams. He picked the brunette with her nose stuck in the air. Emily sounded a prissy, old-fashioned name, and she looked the type.
Or maybe not, with that mouth.
‘Emily Williams?’
It came out brusquer than he had intended, and the brunette was clearly not impressed.
‘This is Emily,’ she said, gesturing at the blonde girl, who smiled a little uncertainly. ‘I’m Bea Stevenson.’
Her voice was very clear and English, and Chase wondered whether she expected him to bow.
‘Bee?’ he repeated. What kind of name was that? ‘As in buzzing and honey?’
‘As in Beatrice,’ she said coldly. ‘You must be Mr Chase.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Most people just call me Chase.’
Bea ignored that. She probably didn’t like being associated with ‘most people’, Chase decided.
‘Didn’t Mr Sutherland tell you that we were coming?’
‘I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t,’ Chase pointed out crisply. ‘I’ve got better things to do than hang around at the airport on the off chance that a couple of cooks are going to turn up.’
‘We’ve all got better things to do,’ she snapped, ‘but it hasn’t stopped us from having to hang around all afternoon. The plane got in two hours ago!’
‘Sorry about that,’ said Chase, not sounding at all sorry. ‘We’ve been putting a mob of cattle through the yards, and I couldn’t get away any earlier.’
‘Are we supposed to be grateful that you could spare the time to come and get us?’
‘Bea…’
Bea pushed her hair defiantly behind her ears and met Emily’s pleading blue eyes. She knew it was a bit soon to get into a stand-up argument, but something about this man rubbed her up the wrong way.
‘You should be grateful I remembered, anyway,’ he said, unmoved by her tone. ‘I need to get back as soon as possible,’ he added briskly, ‘so if you’re ready, I suggest you get your things and we’ll go.’
‘In the plane?’ Emily revived magically at the prospect.
‘It’s the quickest way.’ Chase glanced at her. ‘It’s not a problem, is it?’
‘Oh, no, I’ve always wanted to go in a small plane,’ she assured him. ‘It’s all so exciting!’
Chase suppressed a sigh. One who was keen, and one who was obviously going to hate every minute of it. They’d had both types before, and it was a toss up as to which was the hardest to deal with. The keen ones, probably. The girls who hated it usually burst into tears and insisted on going home the very next day. Perhaps Bea Stevenson would be the same.
Although she didn’t look like a girl who would cry easily. Too proud for that, Chase guessed, taking in the stubborn set of her chin.
‘Where are your things?’
They indicated two huge suitcases in the corner of the room, and he raised one eyebrow. ‘Brought your ball gowns and the kitchen sink, have you?’ he asked sardonically.
Bea bristled. ‘We thought we’d bring a few books and things to keep us occupied,’ she said in a cool voice. She wasn’t about to tell him about the hair-dryer. ‘We didn’t want to be bored.’
‘You won’t have time to be bored at Calulla Downs,’ he said, unimpressed by their forethought.
Bea opened her mouth to tell him that she would be the judge of what bored her or not, but Chase was already striding over to the cases. ‘Is this yours?’ he said to Emily as he took hold of the blue one.
‘Yes, it’s a bit heavy, I’m afraid…’
Emily trailed off as he picked it up in one hand and glanced from the red suitcase to Bea. ‘Want me to take this one for you?’ he asked.
Bea lifted her chin proudly. ‘I can manage, thank you.’
‘OK.’
To her fury, he took her at her word and headed for the doors, carrying Emily’s suitcase as if it was empty. He didn’t even have to put it down to open the door. Bea was left to struggle after him across the tarmac. Her case had wheels, but it was so heavy that it kept toppling sideways and snagging at her ankles, which did nothing to improve her temper.
‘So much for slow smiles and slow drawls!’ she said bitterly to Emily who was doing her best to help keep the case upright. ‘This guy makes that lot you see jumping up and down at the Stock Exchange whenever there’s a financial crisis look laid-back!’
‘Perhaps he’s just having a bad day,’ said Emily.
‘He’s not the only one!’ grumbled Bea, stopping to wipe her forehead with the back of her arm. The heat was pouring down and then bouncing back off the tarmac until she thought she was about to expire, but she made herself carry on. Frankly, she would rather collapse into a sweaty puddle than ask the sneering Mr Chase for help!
Reaching the plane, Chase threw the case into the hold and turned to watch the two English girls trailing across the tarmac. The brunette, Bea she called herself, was clearly struggling, but just as clearly would rather die than ask him to help.
Well, if that’s the way she wanted to be, let her. It was no skin off his nose, Chase thought, but he couldn’t help noticing how tired she looked when she finally hauled her case up to the plane. Her face was a bright, shiny pink and her smooth brown hair was pushed wearily behind her ears.
Chase indicated the hold. ‘Do you want to put the case in there, or shall I do it for you?’
Bea shot him a fulminating glance. There was no way she could lift the case six inches off the ground, let alone all the way up there.
‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly, and perversely hated him for the ease with which he tossed the case into the plane.
As if she hadn’t been humiliated enough, she still had to get into the plane, a process which made Bea regret taking such a stand about refusing to dress the part. Of course, they couldn’t have anything easy like steps. The wings were set high on the body of the plane, and you had to climb in underneath by setting your foot on the strut and hauling yourself up. In her jeans and boots, Emily managed it without any difficulty and settled herself in the front seat, swivelling round to watch Bea’s efforts with a smug grin.
Gritting her teeth, Bea tried to follow her example, but the soles of her shoes kept slipping off the smooth strut and she couldn’t find any purchase to pull herself into the cabin.
She heard Chase sigh behind her, and the next moment found herself set brusquely aside. He stepped easily up into the cabin and reached down a peremptory hand.
‘Here, I’ll pull you up,’ he said.
Bea would have given almost anything she possessed not to accept his help, but it was a question of taking his hand or being left on the tarmac. She was very conscious of the cool strength of his fingers as they closed around hers and he lifted her effortlessly off the ground.
Already scarlet with the heat and humiliation, she flushed a deeper and even more unbecoming shade of red as she scrambled up and collapsed in an inelegant heap beside him. Somewhere along the line, her dress had got rucked up and Chase was subjected to an eyeful of her thighs in all their lack of glory. If he had been hoping for a glimpse of slender golden legs, he must have been sadly disappointed. Bea’s thighs were absolutely not her best feature.
Serve him right, thought Bea, hastily covering them up. She wished she had taken the tarmac option.
Her only comfort was the thought that he probably wished she’d stayed behind, too.
As it was, it looked like they were stuck with each other for the duration.
CHAPTER TWO
APART from a faint lifting of his eyebrow, which was somehow worse than an open sneer, Chase gave no sign that he had even noticed her legs. He dropped her hand pretty quickly, though, pulled the door to, and went forward to fold himself easily into the pilot’s seat.
Bea was left to brush herself down and get herself into one of the small passenger seats behind Emily, who grinned knowingly at her. She glared back.
Chase was flicking buttons above his head, ignoring both of them. Bea just hoped that he knew what he was doing. She had never been in a plane this small before, certainly not one with a propeller. It looked pretty flimsy, too. She tapped the side panel dubiously. Oh, for a jumbo jet, four massive engines, and a pilot in a navy-blue uniform with multiple rows of gold braid!
‘Seat belt?’
She started as Chase turned abruptly to fix her with that unnervingly cool blue stare.
‘Oh,…yes…’ She fumbled for her belt, but her fingers were clumsy under his icy gaze and it seemed to take forever to snap it into place.
‘Are you secure?’ he asked with an edge of impatience.
‘I’m a bit neurotic about my weight and I’ve got a massive complex about my hair, but on the whole, yes, I’d say that I was as well-balanced as the next person.’
‘What?’ Chase stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted tentacles and turned into an alien, which was probably how she seemed to him.
Bea rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, I’ve fastened my seat belt.’
With a final hard look, Chase turned back to the controls, and they were soon speeding down the runway, the propeller a blur on the plane’s nose. The sound of the engine reverberated deafeningly through the cabin. Bea’s stomach dropped alarmingly as they lifted into the air, and she closed her eyes and clutched at her seat. If she survived this trip, she was never, ever, ever going to let Emily talk her into doing anything else.
When she felt the plane level off, she opened her eyes cautiously and risked a glance out of the window, and promptly regretted it. The ground looked very far away, a flat, reddish-brown expanse that stretched out interminably in every direction. Bea could see the tiny shadow of the plane travelling along the ground below them, and wished that she were down with it, instead of suspended in midair.
In the front seat, Emily was chatting away, apparently unperturbed by the fact that she was sitting a thousand feet up in a flimsy tin can powered by little more than a rubber band. She had obviously recovered from her initial disappointment and was doing her best to flirt with Chase, although she wasn’t getting very far, judging by his monosyllabic replies. After the way he had pulled her into the plane, his strength couldn’t be denied, and no one could call him chatty, but Bea didn’t think he was quite what Emily had in mind on the strong, silent front.
She hoped not, anyway. She had a nasty feeling that Chase was not the kind of man to mess with. He certainly didn’t look the type to put up with much nonsense. Still, it was odd that he was so unresponsive. Very few men were immune to Emily’s sparkling blue eyes and spectacular lashes, but Chase seemed impervious to her many charms.
Maybe he just didn’t like women, Bea thought. It would be a shame with that mouth. Or maybe he was married after all. There was no reason why he shouldn’t be. The thought made Bea frown for some reason, and she leant forward casually, as if to get something from her handbag so that she could check out his left hand on the joystick.
No wedding ring. Nice hands, though.
Bea relaxed slightly and sat back, only to realise that the lack of a ring probably didn’t mean much. She couldn’t imagine outback men going in for jewellery in a big way. If Emily’s description was anything to go by, they were all macho in the extreme and would consider wedding rings something only city boys wore.
Not that Chase seemed particularly macho, but there was something spare and uncompromising about him. Definitely a no-frills type, she thought.
So he might be married.
Bea’s eyes rested on him speculatively. She couldn’t see his expression, just the edge of his jaw, his ear and the side of his throat. He had a good, strong neck, she couldn’t help noticing. She’d always had a thing about men’s necks. It didn’t bother Emily, but Bea couldn’t bear thin, scrawny ones. She liked her men strong and solid all over.
How did Chase like his women? Bea found herself wondering. It was pretty obvious that he didn’t have much time for brunettes with a stylish shoe sense! No, he’d probably go for a robust, no-nonsense type, she decided. Blonde, probably, with short sensible hair that didn’t require washing, moussing and blow-drying every day, and a minimal beauty routine.
Oh, well. Each to his own. It wasn’t as if she cared.
Although it did seem a waste of a neck like that.
Bea looked away with a tiny sigh.
If only there was anything else to look at! Looking down at the ground made her feel ill, and the sky was just a blue glare that made her feel dizzy. Bea tried looking at her hands, but that was just boring, and it was impossible not to let her mind drift towards imagining how Chase would be with his wife. Was he always this chilly and forbidding, or did he relax with a woman he liked enough to marry? He might even smile. Imagine what that would be like!
Closing her eyes, Bea was alarmed to find that she could imagine it all too clearly, and the picture of that stern mouth relaxing into a smile left her with such a queer feeling inside that her eyes snapped open again.
Nerves, she told herself.
‘Are you OK?’
Chase’s brusque voice made her jump, and she jerked her head round to find him regarding her with a frown. His eyes were uncomfortably keen, and in spite of herself Bea flushed, remembering the wayward trend of her thoughts.
‘I’m fine,’ she said stiffly.
He had turned right round in his seat to look at her. ‘You seem a bit nervous,’ he commented.
‘I’m not in the least nervous,’ lied Bea in a brittle voice, adding pointedly, ‘I might feel better if you were looking where you were going, though.’
A half-smile quirked the corner of his mouth. ‘This old girl can fly herself. It’s not as if there’s anything to bump into up here, anyway.’
‘Maybe not, but there’s plenty to bump into down there,’ she said, pointing at the ground.
‘Relax, Bea.’ It was Emily’s turn to swivel round in her seat. ‘I tell you what, why don’t we change places? You’ll get a much better view up here.’
‘No,’ said Bea, a little too quickly. The plane felt unstable enough as it was without them all playing musical chairs. ‘I mean, I’m happy where I am.’
‘Are you sure? It’s a fabulous view!’
Of what? Bea wondered. Brown, brown and more brown? She could see more than enough from her side window.
‘I’m sure,’ she said, thinking longingly of Sydney. She could be in the kitchen, preparing for the evening ahead. The catering company had been a great place to work, and no two days were the same. One day they might be doing a five-course dinner for eight, and the next canapés for eight hundred. It had been hard work, but Bea loved it. It had been good experience too, and had given her plenty of ideas for when she branched out on her own.
Remembering the atmosphere of controlled chaos and the surge of adrenalin that somehow made everything come together at the last moment, Bea sighed. Afterwards they would all go for a drink in a noisy bar and then she’d get the ferry across the harbour to the house she and Emily had shared with two friends. Sydney seemed part of a different world from this interminable journey.
The noise and the vibration and the smell of fuel was making her feel queasy, and she clamped her lips together as her stomach churned. Excellent, being sick was all she needed to complete the good impression she had made on Chase so far. She could just imagine his expression if she chucked up in his plane.
At least on proper planes they gave you a sick bag. Bea hunted surreptitiously through her handbag, but couldn’t find so much as a tissue. And she certainly wasn’t using the bag itself! She had bought it in Italy, and it was one of her favourites.
Oh, God, please don’t let me be sick, she prayed silently, pressing her lips together as her stomach gave another alarming lurch. Hadn’t she been through enough humiliation today?
Clearing her throat, she leant forward. ‘Um…how much longer will it take us to get to Calulla Downs, Mr Chase?’
‘Only another twenty minutes or so,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder. ‘And you can call me Chase.’
Where did he think they were? In the army? Bea had no intention of barking his surname at him, but she was damned if she was going to be interested enough to ask for his first name either. ‘I’d rather stick to Mr Chase for now,’ she said coolly as she sat back in her seat.
Chase glanced at her again, and then shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want.’
In fact, it was nearly half an hour before the little plane began its descent. Somehow Bea got through it without throwing up, but it was a close run thing. She was so relieved at the prospect of landing that even the flat scrub below them looked inviting. She didn’t care how brown and boring it was, as long as it was firm beneath her feet.
The plane had barely touched down before she was out of her seat belt and waiting by the door like a dog sensing the prospect of a walk. Chase gave her an odd look, as he bent to push the door open.
‘Hang on a minute,’ he said irritably when Bea made to clamber out. ‘You’ll break your ankle if you try and jump down in those shoes.’
Evidently exasperated, he swung himself down in one fluid motion and turned to hold up his arms. ‘Well, come on,’ he ordered, as Bea dithered, torn between her longing to be back on terra firma and an acute attack of shyness at the thought of touching him.
In the end, she didn’t have much choice. She leant forward and took hold of his shoulders as he grasped her firmly by the waist and lifted her bodily onto the ground. It only took a second, but that was quite long enough for Bea to register the rock-hard body and the warmth of his hands searing through the flimsy material of her dress. It might even have been that rather than the heels which made her stumble slightly as she landed and fall against him.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, flustered by his closeness.
Chase wasn’t flustered. He simply put her aside like a parcel and held up a hand to help Emily jump down before unloading their suitcases.
‘You look a bit funny,’ said Emily to Bea. ‘Are you all right?’
Before Bea could answer, the sound of an engine made them turn to see a pick-up truck bumping along a track towards them, red dust hanging in a cloud in its wake. It stopped beside the plane and a man got out.
And not just any man. Emily drew a deep breath, her concern for Bea forgotten. Here was her fantasy at last!
He was tall and lean and incredibly handsome, with just the right hint of toughness. Here was a man who could ride the bucking bronco, and wrestle bulls to the ground before breakfast. He didn’t actually have a lasso in his hand, but you could just tell that it was looped onto his saddle.
In fact, thought Bea, the only thing that was missing was that trusty horse. By rights he should have ridden up and swung easily to the ground. A pick-up truck didn’t have quite the same effect, but she could see that Emily didn’t care. In every other way he was perfect. The dusty boots, the checked shirt rolled up to reveal powerful forearms…he even had a hat tilted over his eyes.
‘Maybe this is Nick’s brother,’ Emily whispered hopefully to Bea and sent him a dazzling smile.
He gave a slow smile in return, outback man incarnate. It was like watching Emily’s fantasy come alive, so much so that when he actually tipped his hat, Bea almost laughed out loud. Any minute now he would whip off his hat and bend Emily back over his arm for a kiss before tossing her over his saddle and galloping off with her into the sunset. At the very least, he would call her ma’am, surely?
Instead he spoke to Chase. ‘I brought the ute out when I heard you coming in. I thought you might want a lift back in case the girls here had some luggage to bring in.’
Oh, yes, even the right Australian drawl. Emily was starry-eyed. ‘I think I’ve just died and gone to heaven,’ she sighed to Bea.
‘I don’t think he’s Nick’s brother, though.’ Less dazzled, Bea was watching the two men together. They were of a similar age, and Chase was shorter and more compact, but in some indefinable way you could tell that he was in charge. ‘If you’re planning on becoming mistress of a million acres, I’d hang on and check out the brother first.’
‘What do I care about acres?’ Emily was well gone. ‘Did you see the way he smiled?’
Bea was more concerned about the way the men were throwing their suitcases into the back of the ute. She hoped her hair-dryer would stand up to all the rough handling.
‘This is Baz,’ said Chase, belatedly remembering to make the introductions.
‘Hi,’ said Emily before he could go any further. Her eyes shone as she smiled at Baz. ‘I’m Emily.’
‘Welcome to Calulla Downs, Emily,’ he said in his deep, delicious voice.
Chase eyed them sardonically. Here they went again! He’d lost count of the number of girls he’d seen swoon at Baz’s feet. The little blonde was clearly a romantic like all the others. Baz barely had to open his mouth and they were besotted. Chase was surprised that he never seemed to get bored with all that uncritical adoration. For himself, he preferred a bit more of a challenge.
Involuntarily, he glanced at Bea. A smile was tugging at the corners of her lush mouth as she watched her friend gazing dreamily at the stockman, and the snooty expression that had so riled him had been replaced by a gleam of amusement. Chase was taken aback to see how different she looked, and even more disconcerted to discover that he was pleased that she was apparently immune to Baz’s legendary charms.
She wasn’t as pretty as her friend, but her face had more character with its dark brows, firm nose and stubborn chin. And that mouth. Her straight brown hair was cut in a bob that he guessed was normally immaculately shiny but which right then was looking rather the worse for wear, with her fringe sticking to her forehead and the rest hanging limply around her pale face. She had been nervous in the plane, and probably more than a little sick, but she hadn’t been going to admit it, and Chase thought she was probably still feeling a bit queasy.
She turned her head suddenly, as if becoming aware of his gaze, and their eyes met for a tiny moment. There was a funny little jolt in the air, and he found himself remembering the warmth of her body between his hands as he lifted her down from the plane.
‘And this is Bea,’ Chase said to Baz almost roughly.
‘G’day, Bea.’
‘Hello.’ Her voice sounded comically high and brittle after Baz’s deep, slow tones, but something in the way Chase had been watching her had put her on edge. Retrieving her sunglasses from the top of her head, she put them on and hoped they would hide her expression.
‘Where’s Chloe?’ Chase was asking, all briskness, as if he hadn’t even noticed that odd frisson in the air as their eyes had met.
Perhaps he hadn’t, thought Bea. Perhaps she had imagined it.
Baz was talking about somebody called Julie, while Emily hung on his every word. And there was plenty of time to do that. Bea had never heard anyone speak quite so slowly.
‘We may as well pick her up on the way, then.’
As if the hierarchy wasn’t already obvious, Chase strode over to the ute and opened the driver’s door, while Baz climbed into the open back with the suitcases.
Emily gave Bea a nudge. ‘You get in,’ she said, obviously hoping that she would be able to get in the back with Baz, but her plan was foiled when Chase leant over the bench seat and opened the door.