‘I didn’t think so.’ Hal didn’t sound particularly bothered, which perversely annoyed Meredith even more.

Presumably it had been a joke.

‘You’re not telling me that you would actually consider a relationship with me?’

‘A temporary one,’ Hal clarified. ‘From my point of view, you’d be ideal. I can be sure you don’t want commitment, after all. I know you can’t wait to get on that plane back to England.’

Meredith was outraged. ‘And so I’d do, would I? I’d be convenient for you?’

‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that,’ said Hal, ‘but if you liked the idea, I certainly wouldn’t say no.’

‘I can assure you that the idea has no appeal for me whatsoever!’ she said in her most quelling voice.

Not that Hal seemed the slightest bit quelled. ‘Well, let me know if you change your mind,’ was all he said, casually uncrossing his legs and straightening from the chair. ‘Shall we get on?’

Meredith could hardly believe it. The nerve of the man! He had barely smiled at her since she’d arrived and now here he was, casually suggesting they might sleep together if she felt like it!

How was she supposed to respond to something like that? Meredith wondered as she followed him out of the room. Had Hal really expected her to say, ‘Oh, OK, then,’ as if it were no big deal?

And if she had, then what would he have done? Would he have kissed her then, or would he have waited until later that night, when the children were in bed and the stockmen had gone back to their quarters? He might have smiled at her then. He might have drawn her to him…and what would that have been like?

Meredith was annoyed to find that her mouth was dry and she swallowed. How on earth had they started this stupid conversation? Now, infuriatingly, in spite of her furious efforts to keep looking straight ahead, her eyes kept skittering sideways to his hands, his mouth, his throat, and then back to his mouth, before she could wrench them back…

Yesterday they had shaken hands to seal their deal. She could remember the feel of his fingers closing around hers exactly. If that had been enough to send a secret thrill through her, what would a kiss do? What would a whole night together do?

This time, Meredith actually gulped. Stop it, she scolded herself as she stalked along the corridor beside Hal, frowning with the effort of keeping eyes and mind under control. Stop it, stop it, stop it! You said no and you meant no.

Thank God she was sensible and not impulsive like Lucy, who lived for the moment and might easily tumble into an affair like that without giving a thought to the consequences. Well, the subject was closed now. She wouldn’t even think about it any more.

‘Did you ask Lucy if she wanted to sleep with you?’ she heard herself demanding.

If Hal was surprised at her abrupt question, he gave no sign of it. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Would you believe me if I said that Lucy wasn’t my type?’

‘No,’ said Meredith without hesitation. She had never yet met a man who didn’t fall for Lucy. Hal’s words implied that her dumpiness appealed to him more than Lucy’s slender, golden beauty and not for a minute did Meredith believe that.

Hal glanced down at her. ‘If you won’t believe that, will you believe that Lucy fell for Kevin the moment she laid eyes on him, and after that it was obvious that none of the rest of us were in with a chance?’

‘That sounds more like it,’ said Meredith.

There was no way that she, rather than Lucy, would be Hal’s type. Sensible girls like her were rarely anyone’s type.

Meredith only just caught her sigh in time. Horrified, she gave herself a mental slap on the cheeks. It was very lucky that she was the sensible sister or she might even now be embarking on an affair with Hal Granger and what would that get her?

Excitement? a little voice inside her suggested.

It would be stupid.

It might be fun. No commitment, no strings attached, just a good time until Lucy came back and she could go home.

Excitement and fun…How long was it since she had had either? Meredith thought wistfully and then had to remind herself hastily that it wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, she wasn’t that kind of girl. She was practical and sensible and thought things through. She certainly wasn’t going to get involved in any casual affair with Hal Granger, thrill or no thrill.

Still, it wouldn’t have killed him to have seemed a bit more disappointed by her firm refusal, would it?

The last room Hal showed her was the office. ‘You can work in here,’ he said, opening the door into a room piled high with files and papers and magazines and alarming-looking veterinary ointments.

‘How?’ asked Meredith, appalled. ‘You can’t even see the desk for the mess!’

‘Just put those papers on the floor,’ he said, demonstrating with a pile. ‘You can unplug the computer if you’d prefer to use your own, and the phone is in here too. There’s only one line, but most people call at mealtimes when they know I’ll be around, so there shouldn’t be a problem.’

‘How long is it since anyone tidied up in here?’

‘My father wasn’t much good at paperwork and I’ve never had time to sort it all out.’

‘Right, so there’s at least twenty years of junk in here?’

Hal looked round him as if seeing the office for the first time. It had got a bit out of hand, he supposed, but he knew where to find what he needed.

Meredith sighed and pulled the hair back from her face. ‘There’s no way I’m going to be able to work in a tip like this,’ she said. ‘But I will need to use the phone line to get on to the Internet. Can I clear things up and give it all a good clean?’

Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get some order into it all. ‘Knock yourself out,’ said Hal. ‘Just don’t throw anything away without asking.’

Back in the kitchen, Hal reached for his hat. ‘Think you know what you’re doing?’ he asked.

Meredith looked around the kitchen, piled high with dishes that Lucy hadn’t had time to wash that morning, and thought of all the meals to prepare and the rest of the homestead crying out for a good clean. Where did she start? And when was she going to have five minutes to open her laptop, let alone do any work?

‘It’s under control,’ she lied.

‘Good.’ Hal settled his hat on his head and opened the screen door. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

CHAPTER FIVE

IT TOOK Meredith an hour to restore the kitchen to some semblance of order. Emma and Mickey slipped away as soon as they suspected jobs might be in the offing, but trailed back after a while, complaining that they were bored.

‘You can help me make a cake if you like,’ Meredith offered. She felt sorry for the poor kids, dumped out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do and only a grim uncle and a bunch of taciturn stockmen for company. ‘You choose what kind.’

‘Can we make a chocolate cake?’

‘You can if we can find some cocoa.’ She peered into the larder, which was next on her list for a major clear out. ‘I’m sure I saw some in here.’

By the time Hal came in later that morning, the cake was in the oven, Meredith had heard all about the children’s lives in Sydney and the carefully tidied kitchen was once more looking as if the proverbial bomb had hit it. Emma and Mickey were licking out the cake bowl, measuring how much the other had taken with eagle-eyed precision, and Meredith was resignedly wiping up the debris when the clatter of the screen door announced Hal’s arrival.

Her body was still strumming with a mixture of indignation and something that was shamefully like excitement in spite of her best efforts to work it out of her system. She had thrown herself into a frenzy of cleaning all morning, but she might as well not have bothered judging by the way her heart jerked at Hal’s appearance. The strange buzzing sensation in the pit of her stomach immediately ratcheted itself up to full vibration.

It wasn’t the kind of thing sensible stomachs did. Crossly, Meredith scrubbed at a sticky patch with renewed vigour.

Hal sniffed appreciatively as he hung up his hat. ‘Something smells good.’

‘We made a cake,’ said Mickey importantly.

‘It’s for smoko this afternoon,’ Emma added, anxious not to miss out on the glory.

‘That sounds great.’ Hal looked around the kitchen and his eyes came to rest on Meredith, still rubbing industriously. ‘You’ve been busy.’

‘Just doing my job,’ said Meredith, horrified to hear that her voice was positively squeaky. She rinsed out the cloth under the tap and willed her nerve endings to stop carrying on as if it were party time. Honestly, anyone would think that she was attracted to him!

Or that she wished she’d accepted his offer.

Wringing out the cloth rather more forcefully than necessary, she laid it by the sink and turned to Hal, disguising her unaccustomed nervousness in brisk practicality.

‘You don’t know if there’s an apron around, do you?’ There, that was much better. Nobody whose nerves were fluttering frantically with awareness under their skin would even be able to think about aprons, let alone care whether they were wearing one or not, would they? ‘I couldn’t find one anywhere.’

‘An apron?’ Hal made it sound as if she had asked for an intergalactic spaceship, and there was probably about as much chance that she would find one of those out here, Meredith reflected. ‘What do you want an apron for?’

‘Why does anyone ever want an apron? To protect my clothes, of course,’ she said sharply. ‘Look at the state of me!’

Hal looked. She looked fine to him. Overdressed as usual, and perhaps not as well-groomed as she might have been after this morning’s trip in the back of the truck, but she was gesturing fastidiously at her front as if she’d been castrating bullocks. Hal didn’t care to think how she would react to what went on in the yards. He made a mental note to keep her away from there.