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mouth as she watched her friend gazing dreamily at the stockman, and the snooty expression that had so riled him had been replaced by a gleam of amusement.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.
‘There’s room for three,’ he said drily.
Which meant, of course, that Bea was stuck in the middle. The gear stick was set into the column of the steering wheel, so there was nothing to stop her sliding across the shiny leather seat against Chase. She kept edging back towards Emily, who used her bottom to shunt her back into the middle.
‘Budge over, Bea,’ she said. ‘You’re squashing me.’
Bea clung to the bar across the dashboard and concentrated on not brushing against Chase’s arm, but it was hard when the ute was lurching and bumping over the rough ground.
‘Who’s Julie?’ she asked to distract herself from the solid length of his thigh on the seat next to hers.
From the fine hairs at his wrist glinting in the sunlight.
From his hands on the steering wheel and the tingling where his touch seemed imprinted still on her skin.
Bea shivered, and Chase shot her a curious glance. ‘Julie’s married to one of the stockmen,’ was all he said. ‘He’s known as the married man, which means he gets a house on the property. Julie’s got two kids of her own, but she’s been keeping an eye on Chloe until you got here.’
He pulled up outside a low house which looked to Bea as if it had been plonked down in the middle of the bush with an arbitrary fence thrown around it to create a yard otherwise indistinguishable from the surrounding scrub. Three children were playing in the shade of the long veranda, but when they saw the ute pull up at the gate, a little girl detached herself and came tumbling down the steps.
‘Uncle Chase! Uncle Chase!’
Glad of the excuse to get out of the car, Bea had slid out after Chase, just in time to see him smile at the child who threw herself at him.
It gave Bea a horrible fright. For one terrible moment she thought that her heart had actually stopped beating, but the next instant it had slammed back into action, thudding painfully against her ribs and sucking all the oxygen from her lungs so that it was difficult to breathe properly.
For God’s sake, she scolded herself. It was only a smile! You’ve seen a man smile before, haven’t you?
Not like that, an inner voice answered.
She was so taken up with breathing again that it took a minute to realise just what she had heard. Uncle Chase?
Bea swallowed. ‘Uncle?’ she repeated in a hollow voice.
Chase looked at her over the top of the cab. There was no mistaking the glint of mockery in his eyes. ‘Uncle Chase,’ he confirmed, the little girl hanging off one hand.
Even Emily was diverted from Baz for a moment. ‘You’re Nick’s brother?’ she said, staring.
‘I’m Chase Sutherland,’ he agreed.
‘We thought you were the manager!’ Emily put her hand to her mouth and giggled. ‘You must have thought Bea was weird when she insisted on calling you Mr Chase!’
Bea gritted her teeth. ‘I’m sure Mr Sutherland knew perfectly well what we thought,’ she said tightly, glaring at Chase. ‘Why didn’t you tell us Chase was your first name?’ she demanded.
‘I told you to call me Chase,’ he pointed out with what she was sure was a smirk. ‘But you seemed pretty set on calling me Mr. I thought maybe things were more formal where you come from.’
He hadn’t thought anything of the kind, Bea thought savagely. He had just enjoyed seeing her making a complete idiot of herself.
Chase put one hand on the shoulder of the little girl in her denim dungarees. Her blonde hair was tied up in bunches and she had an angelic face belied by the expression in her sharp green eyes.
‘This is Chloe,’ said Chase. ‘Say hello to Emily and Bea, Chloe. Oh, I’m sorry!’ He caught himself up and looked at Bea in mock apology. ‘Would you prefer her to call you Miss Bea? I know how keen you are on formality!’
‘Bea’s fine,’ she said grittily and forced herself to smile at the child as Emily was doing. ‘Hello, Chloe.’
Chloe eyed her warily. ‘Hello,’ she said without enthusiasm.
Bea and Emily exchanged a glance. Even inexperienced as they were, they recognised the mutinous set to that little mouth.
‘Emily and Bea are going to look after you until Dad comes home,’ said Chase.
‘Emily is going to look after you,’ Bea put in firmly. She knew absolutely nothing about children, and she had no intention of getting roped in to looking after one. ‘I’m just the cook.’
Chloe studied her with suspicious green eyes. ‘Why do we have to call you Miss Bea?’ she demanded.
‘That was just your uncle’s idea of a joke,’ said Bea.
‘Why?’
‘I’ve