Книга - Taming Her Hollywood Playboy

Taming Her Hollywood Playboy
Emily Forbes


Redeemed… …by his fake fiancée! Hired as the on-set paramedic on Hollywood actor Oliver Harding’s latest film, Kat Angelis finds herself equally as charmed by his off-screen persona. And when his playboy reputation threatens his hard-earned career, she’s the first person Oliver turns to – to pose as his fiancée! Kat’s warm personality and commitment to her family opens Oliver up to something he’s never had. Is this girl from the outback the key to unlocking his heart?







Redeemed…

…by his fake fiancée!

Hired as the on-set paramedic on Hollywood actor Oliver Harding’s latest film, Kat Angelis finds herself equally as charmed by his off-screen persona. And when his playboy reputation threatens his hard-earned career, she’s the first person Oliver turns to—to pose as his fiancée! Kat’s warm personality and commitment to her family open Oliver up to something he’s never had. Is this girl from the outback the key to unlocking his heart?


EMILY FORBES is an award-winning author of Medical Romance for Mills & Boon. She has written over twenty-five books and has twice been a finalist in the Australian Romantic Book of the Year Award, which she won in 2013 for her novel Sydney Harbour Hospital: Bella’s Wishlist. You can get in touch with Emily at emilyforbes@internode.on.net (mailto:emilyforbes@internode.on.net), or visit her website at emily-forbesauthor.com (http://www.emily-forbesauthor.com).


Also by Emily Forbes (#u4718c45e-02fd-5b27-8e03-e542df893d8b)

Waking Up to Dr Gorgeous

One Night That Changed Her Life

Falling for His Best Friend

Reunited with Her Brooding Surgeon

Rescued by the Single Dad

Tempted and Tamed miniseries

A Doctor by Day…

Tamed by the Renegade

A Mother to Make a Family

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


Taming Her Hollywood Playboy

Emily Forbes






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-09038-4

TAMING HER HOLLYWOOD PLAYBOY

© 2019 Emily Forbes

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Note to Readers (#u4718c45e-02fd-5b27-8e03-e542df893d8b)


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For Deb, the most amazing big sister.

I was so lucky to have you in my life.

I miss you every day.

xx

6th October 2018


Contents

Cover (#u4c1a5105-1a58-5657-8ccd-bc729c20550c)

Back Cover Text (#u74d8eabf-360e-5b2d-8672-dfcbc237b1e1)

About the Author (#u9c5c020e-5404-5462-911f-0f3dfa85ad19)

Booklist (#udec022ef-3c42-5912-bd27-e62a3162bef8)

Title Page (#u974e96a2-edd8-57a8-a08e-b2ef8d8ba766)

Copyright (#u535a94d8-93a8-5c2a-8606-4fafd91e5efb)

Note to Readers

Dedication (#u49831bd5-a2c2-5a00-83d0-60525c99b5b9)

PROLOGUE (#u0451f605-3012-515c-bc8c-efd6977f901d)

CHAPTER ONE (#u1010c173-bd54-5e7b-a169-91fbd4433999)

CHAPTER TWO (#u647ad489-bb0f-5693-b950-e9b7631a2398)

CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




PROLOGUE (#u4718c45e-02fd-5b27-8e03-e542df893d8b)


‘TOTO… I’VE A feeling we’re not in Kansas any more.’

The familiar phrase from The Wizard of Oz popped into Oliver’s head as he sat in the all-terrain vehicle surrounded by nothing but red dirt. The heat in the vehicle was stifling but he knew it was worse outside. He could see the shimmering mirage of the heat as it rose off the baked land. A trickle of sweat made its way down his back, sliding between his shoulder blades as he looked out of the window and wondered what he was doing at the end of the earth.

He wasn’t in Kansas, and he sure as heck wasn’t in Hollywood either. Hollywood was clean and tidy, ordered and structured. A lot of the work on movie sets in today’s world was done indoors, with air-conditioning and green screens, and any dirt, gore, murders, blood and disasters were manufactured. Here the dirt and dust and heat were all too real. Too authentic. It made him wonder about everything else—the murders, blood and disasters—it was too easy to imagine all kinds of skulduggery occurring in this seemingly endless land.

He shrugged his shoulders; they were sticky under his clothing as he returned his focus to the task at hand. He’d always had an active imagination but he was sure he’d be able to handle this place—it was only for six weeks. The dirt and dust would wash off at the end of the day, he was used to a certain level of discomfort in his job, and he certainly wasn’t precious—although the heat was a little extreme, even for him. It had a thickness to it which made breathing difficult, as though the heat had sucked all the oxygen from the air. It felt like the type of heat you needed to have been born into, to have grown up in, to have any chance of coping with it. Of surviving.

It must have been well over one hundred degrees in the shade, if there was any shade. The place was baking. Hot, dry and not a blade of grass or a tree in sight to break the monotony of the red earth. The landscape was perfect for the movie but not so great for the cast and crew. Adding to Oliver’s discomfort was the fact that he was wearing a flame-retardant suit under his costume in preparation for the upcoming scene. But it was no use complaining: he asked to do his own stunt work wherever possible and he was sure his stunt double would be more than happy to sit this one out.

The sun was low in the sky but the heat of the day was still intense. He closed his eyes as he pictured himself diving into the hotel pool and emerging, cool and fresh and wet—instead of hot and sticky and dripping in sweat—to down a cold beer. He would love to think he could have the pool to himself but he knew, in this overwhelming climate, that was wishful thinking; he’d just have to do his best to avoid sharing it with any of the single women from the cast or crew. He didn’t need any more scandals attached to his name. His agent, lawyer and publicist were all working overtime as it was.

He started the engine as instructions came through his earpiece. It was time to capture the last scene for the day’s shoot.

The stunt required him to drive the ATV at speed towards the mountain range in the distance. A ramp had been disguised in the dirt and rocks that would flip the vehicle onto its side for dramatic effect. The whole scene could probably be done using CGI techniques and a green screen but the film’s director, George Murray, liked as much realism as possible and he had chosen this part of the world for filming because of its authenticity and other-worldliness. It was supposed to be representing another planet and Oliver could see how it could feel that way. He had grown up all around the world but even he’d never seen anywhere that looked as alien and hostile as this.

The setting sun was turning the burnt orange landscape a fiery red. The shadows cast by the distant hills were lengthening and turning violet. He knew the dust thrown up by his tyres would filter the light and lend a sinister aspect to the scene.

He waited for the call of ‘action’ and pressed his foot to the accelerator. The vehicle leapt forwards. He waited for the tyres to gain traction and then pushed the pedal flat to the floor. The ground was littered with tiny stones, making it difficult to maintain a straight course. He eased off the speed slightly as the vehicle skidded and slid to the left. He corrected the slide without difficulty and continued his course but, just as he thought he’d succeeded, there was a loud bang and the steering wheel shuddered in his hands.

He felt the back of the vehicle slide out to the right and he eased off the speed again as he fought to control it, but the tail had seemingly picked up speed, turning the vehicle ninety degrees to where he wanted it. To where it was supposed to be. He let the wheel spin through his fingers, waiting for the vehicle to straighten, but before he could correct the trajectory the vehicle had gone completely off course. The front tyre dropped into a trough in the dirt and Oliver felt the wheels lift off the ground.

The vehicle began to tip and he knew he had totally lost control. All four wheels were airborne and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t fight it, he couldn’t correct it, and he couldn’t control it.

The ATV flipped sideways and bounced once. Twice. And again.

It flipped and rolled and Oliver lost count of the cycles as the horizon tumbled before him and the sun’s dying rays cast long fingers through the windshield.

Had he finally bitten off more than he could chew?




CHAPTER ONE (#u4718c45e-02fd-5b27-8e03-e542df893d8b)


OLIVER MASSAGED THE lump on the side of his head. He’d taken a couple of paracetamol for the dull headache but fortunately he’d escaped serious injury yesterday. The bump on his head and some slight bruising on his shoulder were minor complaints and he had no intention of mentioning those aches and pains. The ATV had taken a battering but could be fixed. The repairs meant a change in the filming schedule but nothing that couldn’t be accommodated. A serious injury to him would have been far more disruptive.

Despite his luck, however, the incident had made George, the director, wary and Oliver had agreed to hand over some of the stunts to the professionals. The movie couldn’t afford for anything to happen to its star and he didn’t want to get a reputation as a difficult actor. George had been good to Oliver; he’d worked with him before and he’d been happy to give him another role when other directors had been reluctant, but Oliver knew that being argumentative, disruptive or inflexible wasn’t a great way to advance a career. He wasn’t stupid, he knew actors were a dime a dozen. He wasn’t irreplaceable. No one was. A reputation as a ladies’ man was one thing; a reputation as being problematic on set was another thing entirely.

He stretched his neck from side to side as he tried to rid himself of the headache that plagued him. He knew it was from the accident yesterday. He hadn’t had that cold beer and had gone to bed alone, so there were no other contributing factors. He knew exactly what had caused his pain.

The schedule change caused by his accident meant he wasn’t required for filming this morning, but now he was bored. He wandered around the site, knowing that the heat was probably compounding his headache but too restless to stay indoors.

A whole community had been established temporarily in the middle of the desert just for the movie. Transportable huts were set up as the production centre, the canteen, the first-aid centre, lounge areas for the cast and crew, and Oliver, George and the lead actress all had their own motorhome to retreat to. Marquees surrounded the vehicles and more huts provided additional, and much-needed, shade. The site was twenty miles out of the remote Australian outback town of Coober Pedy, which itself was over three thousand miles from the next major town or, as the Australians said, almost five hundred kilometres. No matter which way you said it, there was no denying that Coober Pedy was a mighty long way from anywhere else.

He’d been completely unprepared for the strangeness of this remote desert town. He’d imagined a flat, barren landscape but the town had sprung up in an area that was far hillier than he’d expected. The main street was tarred and lined with single-level shops and a few taller buildings, including his hotel, with the houses spreading out from the centre of town and into the hills. Along with regular houses there were also hundreds of dwellings dug into the hillsides. He’d heard that people lived underground to escape the merciless heat but he hadn’t thought about what that meant in terms of the town’s appearance; in effect, it made the town look far more sparsely populated than it actually was.

He knew he should hole up in his trailer and stay out of the heat but he wanted company.

Generators chugged away in the background, providing power for the film set, providing air-conditioning, refrigeration and technology. He was used to having a shower in his trailer but because of water restrictions apparently that was a no-go out here in the Australian desert.

If he moved far enough away from the generators he knew he would hear absolute silence. It should be peaceful, quiet, restful even, and he could understand how some people would find the solitude and the silence soul-restoring, relaxing, but it made him uneasy. He needed more stimulation. He wanted crowds, he wanted noise, he didn’t want a chance to be introspective. He was an extrovert, a performer, and as an extrovert he wanted company. He needed company to energise him and as a performer he needed an audience.

He wasn’t required on set but he decided he’d go and watch the filming anyway. It would kill some time and give him someone to talk to.

He turned away from the transportable huts that formed the command centre for the movie set and headed towards the vehicle compound. His boots kicked up puffs of red dust as he walked. Everything was coated in dust. It got inside your mouth, your ears, your nostrils. Everything smelt and tasted like dust. It even got inside your eyes—if the flies didn’t get there first. Which reminded him that he’d left his sunglasses in his trailer. He spun around; he’d retrieve them and then grab a four-by-four and head further out into the desert to where filming was taking place.

He slipped his glasses on as he stepped back into the heat. Rounding the corner of his trailer, he heard an engine and noticed a dust cloud billowing into the air. He stood in the shade at the corner of his trailer and watched as a car pulled to a stop beside the mess hut. It was an old four-by-four, its brown paintwork covered in red dust, like everything else out here. A haze rose from the bonnet of the car, bringing to mind the story about it being hot enough in Australia to fry an egg in the sun. He believed it.

The car door opened and he waited, his natural curiosity getting the better of him, to see who climbed out.

A woman.

That was unexpected.

She stood and straightened. She was tall, slender, lithe. Her hair was thick and dark and fell just past her shoulders. He watched as she scraped it off her neck and tied it into a loose ponytail, in deference to the heat, he presumed. Her neck was long and swan-like, her limbs long and tanned.

She was stunning and the complete antithesis of what he’d expected, judging from the car she was driving. She reminded him of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon.

He blinked, making sure it wasn’t the after-effects of the bump to his head causing his imagination to play tricks on him.

She was still there.

She wore a navy and white summer dress, which must have been lined to mid-thigh, but from there down, with the morning sun behind her, the white sections were completely see-through. He wondered if she knew but he didn’t care—her legs were incredible. Magnificent.

Oliver was literally in the middle of nowhere with absolutely nothing of interest to look at. Until now. The middle of nowhere had just become a far more attractive proposition.

He watched as she walked towards him. Graceful. Ethereal. Sunglasses protected her eyes but her skin was flawless and her lips were full and painted with bright red lipstick. The shade was striking against her olive skin and raven hair.

He’d seen plenty of beautiful woman in his thirty-two years, he was surrounded by them on a daily basis, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman as naturally beautiful. The ones he worked with had all had some help—a scalpel here, an injection there—and he’d swear on his father’s grave, something he hoped he would be able to do sooner rather than later, that she hadn’t had any assistance.

He watched, not moving a muscle, scared that any movement might startle her, might make her shimmer and disappear, mirage-like, into the desert.

Maybe his headache was affecting his thought processes; maybe he’d been out in the sun for too long, or simply in the outback for too long. Other than the cast and crew he’d barely seen another person for days. The hot, dusty streets of Coober Pedy were, for the most part, empty. The locals hunkered down in their underground dwellings to escape the heat, venturing out only briefly and if absolutely necessary, scampering from one building to the subterranean comfort of the next. But perhaps many of the locals looked like this. Perhaps that was the attraction in this desolate, baked and barren desert town.

She had stopped walking as her gaze scanned the buildings, looking for something or someone. Looking lost. His curiosity was piqued. His attention captured.

Her gaze landed on him and she took another step forward. Belatedly he stepped out of the shadows and walked towards her; he’d been so transfixed he’d forgotten to move, forgotten his manners, but he wanted to be the first to offer her assistance.

‘Hello, I’m Oliver; may I help you?’

She stopped and waited as he approached her.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m looking for George Murray.’ Her voice was deep and slightly breathless, without the broad Australian accent that he’d heard so many of the crew speak with. She glanced down at her watch and his eyes followed. Her watch had a large face, with the numbers clearly marked and an obvious hand counting off the seconds. Her fingers were delicate by comparison, long and slender, with short nails lacquered with clear varnish. He was trained to be observant, to watch people’s mannerisms, to listen to their voices, but even so he was aware that he was soaking up everything about this woman. From the colour of her lips and the shine of her hair, to the smooth lustre of her skin and the inflection of her speech. He wanted to be able to picture her perfectly later. She lifted her head. ‘I have an interview with him at eleven.’

‘A job interview?’

She nodded. ‘Of sorts.’

‘Are you going to be working on the film? Are you an extra?’

‘No.’

‘Catering? Publicity?’

‘No and no.’ Her mouth turned up at one corner and he got a glimpse of perfect, even white teeth bordered by those red lips.

He grinned. ‘You’re not going to tell me?’

Her smile widened and he knew she was enjoying the repartee. ‘No, I don’t think I am.’

Two could play at that game. ‘All right, then,’ he shrugged, feigning disinterest, ‘George is out on set but he shouldn’t be long. Filming started early today to try to beat the heat, so they’ll be breaking for lunch soon. Let me show you to his trailer.’ He’d take her to where she needed to go but he wouldn’t leave her.

He bounced lightly up the two steps that led to George’s office and pushed open the heavy metal door. He flicked on the lights and held the door for her. She brushed past him and her breasts lightly grazed his arm but she showed no sign that she’d noticed the contact. She stopped just inside the door and removed her sunglasses, and he caught a trace of her scent—fresh, light and fruity.

He watched as she surveyed the interior. An enormous television screen dominated the wall opposite the desk, which was covered in papers. A laptop sat open amongst the mess. A large fridge with a glass door was tucked into a corner to the left, and a couch was pressed against the opposite wall with two armchairs at right angles to it and a small coffee table in between.

He wondered if this was what she’d expected to see.

‘Have a seat,’ he invited as he waved an arm towards the chairs. She sat but avoided the couch.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’

She nodded and the light bounced off her hair, making it look like silk. ‘A water would be lovely, thank you.’

He grabbed a glass and two bottles of mineral water from the fridge. He twisted the tops off and passed her the glass and a bottle.

‘I’ll be fine waiting here,’ she said as she took the drink from him. ‘You must have something you need to do?’

He shook his head as he sat on the couch. He leant back and rested one foot on his other knee, relaxed, comfortable, approachable, conveying candidness. ‘I’m not busy. The scene they’re filming doesn’t involve me.’

‘You’re an actor?’

He looked carefully at her to gauge if she was joking but her expression was serious. Her mouth looked serious, her red lips full but not moving. But was there a hint of humour in her dark eyes? He couldn’t read her yet. Perhaps she was an anomaly, someone who didn’t immediately recognise him, or maybe he just wasn’t famous out here in the middle of nowhere.

Should he tell her who he was?

No. That could wait. She still hadn’t told him what she was doing here. She’d said she wasn’t publicity but she could be a journalist. He didn’t need more reporters telling stories about him. But if that was the case, surely she would recognise him.

Unless she was a better actor than he was, he was certain she wasn’t a reporter.

He settled for vague. ‘I am,’ he said as the door opened again and George entered the trailer.

‘Kat! Welcome.’ He was beaming. Oliver was surprised; George never looked this pleased to see anyone. George was a little rotund, always in a hurry, and seemed to have a permanent scowl creasing his forehead. Seeing him so delighted to see another person was somewhat disconcerting.

He crossed the room as the woman stood. Kat or Kate, Oliver thought George had said, but he wasn’t quite sure. Oliver stood too; manners that had been instilled in him, growing up as the son of a strict military man, remained automatic.

George greeted her with a kiss and Oliver was more intrigued. There was obviously some history here that he wasn’t privy to. Who was she?

‘I see you’ve met our star, Oliver Harding.’

‘Not formally.’ She turned to him and extended her hand. ‘I’m Katarina Angelis, but call me Kat.’ Her handshake was firm but it was the softness of her skin and the laughter in her eyes that caught Oliver off guard. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

He realised she’d known exactly who he was. Which put him at a disadvantage. He still knew nothing about her. But he did know her name seemed to suit her perfectly. He was sure Katarina meant ‘pure’, and Angelis had to mean ‘heavenly’.

‘The pleasure is all mine,’ he said.

George cleared his throat and Oliver realised he hadn’t let go of Kat’s hand. He also realised he didn’t want to. Beautiful women were everywhere in his world, but there was something more to Kat. Something intriguing. Something different.

Her skin was soft and cool. Flawless. She looked like a desert rose, a surprising beauty in the harshness of the outback, and he found himself transfixed by her scarlet mouth. Her lips brought to mind ripe summer cherries, dark red and juicy. He wondered how they’d taste.

‘If I might give you some advice, my dear,’ George said to Kat as Oliver finally let her hand drop, ‘you should stay away from Oliver.’

‘Hey!’ he protested.

‘You don’t have to worry about me, George,’ Kat replied. ‘I can handle myself.’

George shook his head. ‘You’ve never met anyone like Oliver.’

Kat was looking at him now. Studying him, as if sizing him up and comparing him to George’s assessment. Oliver smiled and shrugged and spread his hands wide, proclaiming his innocence. He had to take it on the chin; he couldn’t remonstrate with George in front of Kat—it would be better to laugh it off. He couldn’t afford to show how she’d affected him. It was safer to return to his usual persona of charm and confidence, of not taking himself or anyone too seriously. She had floored him and he needed to gather his wits and work out what to do about it. About her. But, for now, he’d play along. ‘George is right, Kat, I’m the man your father warned you about.’

She laughed. ‘Don’t go thinking that makes you special. My father is always warning me about men.’

He cocked his head and quirked one eyebrow. This was even better. He had never been one to back away from a challenge.

‘Don’t make me regret hiring you.’ George eyeballed them both. ‘Either of you.’

Oliver laughed; he was used to being told off, but he was surprised to see that Kat was blushing. She looked even more delightful now.

‘I mean it, Oliver—don’t mess with Kat.’ George looked him straight in the eye. ‘There aren’t too many places left for you to run to and if you hurt her you’ll want to start running, believe me.’

So now they were both going to put a challenge to him. Of course, that only served to entice him even more. George could warn him all he liked but Oliver had never been one to steer clear of a challenge. But he knew he had to tread carefully. He couldn’t afford any more scandals.

‘Go and find something to do,’ George told him. ‘I need to talk to Kat.’

Oliver left but he knew it wouldn’t be the last he saw of Kat Angelis. He was glad now that she hadn’t admitted that she recognised him, that she hadn’t said his reputation preceded him. Perhaps she’d have no preconceived ideas about him and he could try to impress her without any rumours or innuendo getting in the way.

He was still none the wiser as to her actual reason for being on set but, if George was hiring her, he’d make sure their paths crossed again. If he was going to be stuck in this town for the next few weeks he might as well have some fun. He knew it was his choice, almost, to be here—George had made him an offer that his publicist thought was too good to refuse—and timing was everything. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself. He wouldn’t misbehave, but even if he did he doubted anyone would ever hear about what went on out here. Coober Pedy and the Australian outback seemed to exist in its own little time capsule. It really was a whole other world.






Kat watched on as George shooed Oliver out of his office. Of course she’d recognised him—Oliver Harding was a star of multiple Hollywood blockbusters. He had been the lead actor in several recent box office hits and he played action heroes just as well as he carried romantic leads. He was in the news regularly, if not for his movies then for his off-screen exploits with his leading ladies or other Hollywood ‘It’ girls. Kat may be a small-town girl, living out in the desert in the middle of nowhere, but she had television, magazines, the internet and the local drive-in movie theatre, which showed new movies every Saturday night. Oliver Harding was famous and she would have to be living under a rock not to know who he was. The thought made her smile. She did actually live underground, like so many of the local residents, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know what went on in the rest of the world. Oliver Harding appeared in a new movie every six months, and with a new woman far more frequently. Having met him now, she could understand why. He was handsome on the silver screen but incredibly gorgeous in real life. He had charm, charisma and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes that had made her lose her train of thought on more than one occasion already.

‘I’m serious, Kat,’ George cautioned her again. Had he mistaken her smile to mean she wasn’t paying attention to his warning? ‘I’ve seen that look in his eye before. You really don’t want him to set his sights on you. Stronger women than you have fallen for his charms. He loves the thrill of the chase and he hates to let a pretty girl go unappreciated, but he has a tendency to leave a trail of broken hearts behind him.’

He had a cheeky appeal and amazing eyes and his smile made her stomach tumble, but Kat wasn’t about to succumb to his charm. She’d met charming men before and didn’t intend to be another notch on his bedpost. And she hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she knew how to handle herself. There was no denying Oliver Harding was gorgeous and charming but she was not the type to fall for charming and handsome. Well, that wasn’t technically true but she wasn’t the type to have flings with famous men who were just visiting. That was something irresponsible people did. Spontaneous people. And she’d learnt not to be either of those.

‘Don’t worry about me, George. I really can handle myself.’

‘He has a reputation for seducing women, but, in his defence, don’t believe everything you read or hear. He’s a nice guy but still a flirt and definitely incorrigible.’

‘I’m here to work, not fool around with the staff,’ Kat stated, reminding herself of her obligations as much as she was reminding George. ‘So, what exactly did you want to see me about?’

George sighed. ‘Oliver has it written into his contract that he gets to do a proportion of his own stunt work. A large proportion. But yesterday things didn’t go quite to plan. He was involved in an accident. The vehicle he was driving was supposed to crash but instead of going into a controlled sideways tip it flipped at speed and ended up on its roof. He seems to be fine.’

Kat thought back—she hadn’t noticed a limp or any bruising or protective postures, but she hadn’t been looking for signs of injury. She’d been too focused on his mesmerising blue eyes and on trying not to act like a star-struck fan.

‘But,’ George continued, ‘since the incident our first-aid officer is refusing to be responsible for Oliver’s safety and I must say she has a point. We have a stunt coordinator who is also Oliver’s double but…sometimes things go wrong. I think it would be prudent to have someone on set who has more experience than just a first-aid qualification. Not full-time, just when we’re doing the stunts. Do you think, if I gave you the filming schedule, you might be able to work with us? Would you be interested?’

‘I think so.’ George had outlined his thoughts on the phone to her last night but she needed more details. ‘Can you give me a basic idea of what would be required, mainly how much time?’

She listened as George ran through the filming schedule with her.

‘I’d still need to be available for ambulance shifts—even with the volunteers we don’t have enough staff to allow me to give those up,’ Kat said. Getting qualified paramedics to work in rural and remote areas was always tough and Kat knew she would have to make sure she didn’t put her colleagues under any additional pressure by requesting time off in order to do something that was purely to satisfy her own desires. As tempting and exciting as it was to think of working on a movie set, not to mention with Oliver Harding, her commitment to her career had to be her priority.

‘We could work around your schedule to a certain degree. As long as you could be on set when we’re doing the stunt work. Would that be possible? I don’t want to wear you out.’

From what George had described to her last night, the movie wasn’t really her cup of tea—she preferred drama and thrillers to science fiction—but she had to admit it would be exciting to work on a film set, and getting to work with Oliver would be an added bonus.

‘I reckon I can work something out. I’ll see if I can swap some of my day shifts for nights. We’re on call overnight. With a resident population of just over two thousand people there’s not usually a lot to keep us busy. It’s tourists that swell our numbers and keep us occupied.’

‘That’s great. I’ll get a contract drawn up; you’ll be fairly paid for your time.’

‘I don’t need—’

‘Don’t argue,’ George interrupted. ‘I need it to be all above board and your wages will be a drop in the ocean that is our budget. Think of it as spending money—put it aside and treat yourself to something.’

Kat couldn’t remember the last time she’d treated herself to something. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what she would do, but it was easier to agree.

‘There is one other thing,’ George added. ‘A favour. I need some extra locations. The cave where I wanted to shoot is apparently sacred Aboriginal land and I can’t get permission to film there. You don’t happen to know of anything else around here?’

‘I do know something that might do,’ Kat replied. ‘It’s on my godfather’s land about ten minutes out of town. I can take you out to see it later today if you like. Shall I meet you at the hotel?’

Kat picked up the copy of the film schedule that George had given her, kissed him goodbye and made arrangements to meet at five. She stepped out of the trailer and found Oliver waiting for her.

‘Now are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?’ he asked as he fell into step beside her. His voice was deep and pleasant, his accent neutral. She’d expected more of an American flavour. Had he been taught to tone it down?

‘I live here.’

‘Really? Here?’

She could hear the unspoken question, the one every visitor asked until they got to know Coober Pedy. Why?

She never knew where to start. How did one begin to explain the beauty, the peace, the wildness, the attraction? She loved it here. That didn’t mean she never entertained the idea of travelling the world and seeing other places, but this was home. This was where her family lived. And family was everything.

She had no idea how to explain all of that, so she simply said, ‘Yes, really.’

‘But you know George?’ He was walking closely beside her and his arm brushed against hers every few steps, interrupting her concentration.

She nodded.

‘Are you going to tell me how?’

‘It’s not my story to tell.’

‘At least tell me why you have the filming schedule, then.’

She stopped walking and turned to look at him. She had to look up. She wasn’t short—she was five feet nine inches tall—but still he was several inches taller. ‘Are you always this nosy?’

‘Yes.’ He was smiling. ‘Although I prefer to think of myself as having an enquiring mind. It sounds more masculine. I’m happy to be in touch with my feminine side, but only in private.’

‘I’m going to be working on the film,’ she said, hoping to surprise him.

‘Doing what?’

‘Keeping you out of trouble,’ she said as she continued towards her car.

‘Trouble is my middle name,’ he laughed.

She didn’t doubt that. She’d only known him for a few minutes and regardless of George’s warning she already had the sense that he was trouble. But she couldn’t help smiling as she said, ‘So I hear.’

Kat reached her car and stretched her hand out to open the door, which she hadn’t bothered locking, but Oliver was faster than she was. He rested his hand on the door frame, preventing her from opening it.

‘And just how exactly do you plan to keep me out of trouble?’ His voice was deep and sexy, perfect for a leading man.

She turned to face him. He was standing close. Her eyes were level with his chest. He was solid—muscular without being beefy, gym-toned. He didn’t look as if he’d done a hard day’s work in his life, and he probably hadn’t, but that didn’t stop him from being handsome. With his chiselled good looks, he could have come straight from the pages of a men’s fashion magazine.

He smelt good. He looked even better.

His blue eyes were piercing, his square jaw clean-shaven. His thick brown hair was cut in a short back and sides, slightly longer on top, like a military-style haircut that had been on holiday for a couple of weeks. She wondered if it was to fit the movie script or if it was how he chose to cut his hair. It suited him. It emphasised his bone structure.

‘I’m your insurance policy,’ she said.

He frowned and raised one eyebrow. She wondered if that came naturally or if he’d cultivated that move. Was it possible to learn how to do that?

‘I’m a paramedic,’ she continued. ‘I’m going to be on set for the stunt work. Just in case.’

She’d expected him to object but he took it in his stride.

‘Good,’ he said simply before he grinned widely. ‘I’ll be seeing plenty of you, then.’

He was so confident, so comfortable. She wondered if he’d ever been told he couldn’t do something. She imagined that if he had he would have chosen to ignore the instruction.

His arm was still outstretched, passing beside her head as he leant against her car. ‘So, Kat, tell me your story.’

‘Why do you want to know?’

She was caught between his chest and the car. She could step out, away from the boundaries he’d imposed, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t feel threatened. He was smiling at her. He looked genuine, friendly, but she needed to remember he was an actor. He was probably trained to smile in a hundred different ways. She remembered George’s warning but she chose to ignore it. Just for a moment. She wanted to see what would happen next. She felt as if she was in a movie moment of her own.

His smile widened, showcasing teeth that were white, even and perfect. His blue eyes sparkled. ‘Because I want to make sure I’m not overstepping any lines when I ask you out.’

He looked like a man who was used to getting his own way and she didn’t doubt that; with women, at least, he probably did. But she did doubt that she was the type of woman he was used to meeting. ‘And what makes you think I’d go out with you?’

‘I didn’t say you would, I’m just letting you know I will ask you to. The choice is completely yours.’

‘What did you have in mind?’ She shouldn’t ask but she wanted to know. She should heed George’s warning and get in her car and drive away but it had been a long time since she’d been asked on a date and she was interested to hear his thoughts. She was interested full stop.

He smiled. ‘I don’t know yet but I’ll think of something.’

There weren’t a lot of options in Coober Pedy and Oliver, not being a local, would know even fewer.

Kat couldn’t remember the last time someone had flirted with her or the last time she’d met anyone she wanted to flirt with. She couldn’t deny she was flattered by the attention. She’d need to be careful. She’d been hurt before; a monumental break-up had left her questioning her own judgement and she’d avoided getting romantically involved ever since. She wanted her own happily-ever-after but she’d been scared to go out to find it. She’d focused instead on her career and her family and it had been a while since she’d even thought about going on a date. George’s warning repeated in her head again but she had no idea if she was going to be able to heed it.

The touch of Oliver’s hand had set her pulse racing and the look in his eye had made her wish, just momentarily, that she was the sort of girl who would take a risk, take a chance.

But that wasn’t her. She’d learnt that taking risks was asking for trouble, and Oliver Harding had trouble written all over him.




CHAPTER TWO (#u4718c45e-02fd-5b27-8e03-e542df893d8b)


KAT PULLED INTO the courtyard in front of the Cave Hotel. She found a spot to park under a gum tree in the shadow of the hill, seeking shade out of habit rather than necessity at this time of the evening. The air was still warm but the searing heat of the day was beginning to dissipate.

The sun was setting behind the hotel, turning the sky orange. The hotel was the town’s only five-star accommodation. Kat doubted it could be compared to five-star indulgence in Paris, London or New York but it was luxurious by Coober Pedy standards and all that Kat knew. She’d never travelled outside Australia and had never stayed in anything rated above three and a half stars.

‘Do you have a little more time up your sleeve?’ George asked as Kat switched off her car. ‘As a thank-you for showing me those caves I’ll buy you a cold drink and introduce you to the cast. I imagine they’ll gather in the bar before dinner and it would be a good chance to meet them before you start work.’

‘Sure,’ she replied. ‘I’ll just make a call and then I’ll meet you inside.’

Like a lot of the dwellings in town, the hotel had been built into the side of a hill. It had newer wings that extended out from the hill but Kat always recommended that people book an underground room as a preference, for the atmosphere and experience plus the fact that the rooms were bigger and cooler. The original, subterranean floorplan had been designed to enable the rooms to maintain a constant temperature year-round, a bonus in the scorching heat of summer and during cold winter nights, but it meant that cell phone reception could be erratic inside.

The hotel had air-conditioning, an excellent restaurant and shops, and the courtyard parking area had been covered in bitumen, which, in contrast to the dusty streets, was perhaps all that was needed. More importantly it had an outdoor pool, secluded behind an adobe wall and surrounded by palm trees. Kat had always thought the palms a bit incongruous, considering the environment, but they seemed to thrive.

She stepped under the covered walkway that ran from the pool to the hotel foyer, seeking the shade. She called her father, letting him know she’d be late and checking that he was happy to wait for dinner. As she finished her phone call she heard the pool gate slam shut behind her. She turned her head and saw Oliver walking her way.

He had a beach towel slung over his right shoulder but he was still wet. He was bare-chested, his skin smooth and slick and golden brown. Damp swimming trunks hugged his thighs.

Kat’s mouth went dry as she tried not to ogle him, but it was a difficult task. Eventually she lifted her eyes and saw him smiling at her. His smile was incredible. It started slowly; one corner of his mouth lifted first and then his smile stretched across his lips before they parted to reveal perfect white teeth and a wide, engaging smile.

‘This is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to see you. What are you up to?’

He stopped at her side, took the towel from his shoulder and started to dry his chest. There was a purple bruise on his right shoulder and Kat was going to ask about it, but that was before she got distracted. Oliver’s arm muscles flexed as he rubbed the towel over his body, diverting her attention. He ran the towel over his abdomen and she couldn’t help but follow his movements. His stomach muscles rippled as he twisted to reach his hand behind his back and Kat’s heart skipped a beat as she forced herself to concentrate. She was yearning to reach out and run her hand over his shoulder and down his arm. To feel his biceps tense and flex under her fingers. If she thought he was attractive fully clothed then he was something else altogether when he was partially naked.

She swallowed as she tried to rein in her imagination. ‘I’ve just brought George back—we went to scout some locations.’

‘You’ve already got the lingo, I see,’ he said as he slung the towel back over his shoulder. ‘What are you doing now?’

‘I’m having a drink at the bar. George is going to introduce me to a few people.’

‘Great, I’ll see you inside.’ He started walking towards the hotel and Kat focused on walking beside him, on putting one foot in front of the other.

He held the lobby door open for her but stopped at the entrance to the bar. ‘I’m not dressed appropriately—I’ll get changed and come back. Are you OK to go in by yourself?’

Kat wasn’t used to people checking on her; everyone in town knew her and the locals expected people to look after themselves. On the whole women weren’t treated any differently to men but she stopped herself from giving a short reply of ‘of course’, as she realised he was just being polite. He was just treating her with courtesy, showing some respect. It was something her father would have done for her mother.

Her father would have been horrified if her mother had gone into a hotel unaccompanied. When they had been courting there would have been separate bars for the men and women, and women would never have been permitted in the ‘public’ bar, but times had changed and no one now would bat an eyelid at a woman going into a bar alone. Kat knew she would feel uncomfortable in a different setting, in a different town, but everyone knew her here; she still appreciated Oliver’s manners though. She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you.’

The bar was cool and softly lit. It was in the original part of the hotel, dug into the hill. Its walls and ceilings were the colour of ochre, the same colour as the land, but the walls had been coated with a clear lacquer to stop the dust that would otherwise coat everything in its path. It was a large room and felt spacious even though there were no windows. Indoor plants helped to delineate the space, creating smaller areas and a sense of privacy while helping to disguise the fact that they were several feet under the surface.

George was waiting for her and introduced her to several of the cast and crew as she nursed the drink he had purchased for her. She tried to focus on who everyone was but she was constantly scanning the room, waiting for Oliver to return. She hated knowing that she was waiting for him, looking forward to seeing him, but she couldn’t help the feeling.

She did a slight double-take when a tall man walked in—his build and even his gait were so similar to Oliver’s that it wasn’t until he removed his cap that she registered that not only was he not Oliver, but he also had a shaved head and was not nearly as good-looking. But his movements had been similar enough that she’d had to look twice, so it was no surprise when George introduced him as Chris, the man who was Oliver’s stunt double. Kat shook his hand, noticing his brown eyes even as she noted that the touch of his hand didn’t set her heart racing. He was pleasant enough, fit and young, but very definitely not Oliver.

‘When you see Oliver,’ Chris said to George after shaking Kat’s hand, ‘let him know I’ll meet him in the gym for his training session.’ He turned to Kat. ‘Good to meet you, Kat; I’ll see you on set.’

When Oliver finally entered the bar, Kat wondered how she could have mistaken Chris for him. There was an aura about Oliver, something drew her to him and she found it almost impossible to turn away.

‘Hello, Kat.’ He was looking at her intensely. Did he look at everyone like that? she wondered.

She felt as though he could see inside her, see all her secrets. Not that she had any. Something about him made her wish she was a little mysterious, wish she wasn’t so ordinary. She wished there was something about her that could intrigue him.

‘Chris is waiting in the gym for you.’ George was speaking to Oliver and his voice brought her back to the present.

‘That’s OK, I promised Kat a drink first. Chris will wait.’

Kat opened her mouth to object—Oliver hadn’t promised her any such thing—but before she could speak he winked at her and grinned and she kept quiet.

George’s assistant, Erica, came to the table and spoke softly in George’s ear.

‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Julia. It appears she is having a crisis.’ George stood before adding, ‘Behave yourself, Oliver.’

Oliver just grinned in reply, apparently brushing George’s warning aside without a thought as George left the table, leaving them alone and leaving Kat a little nervous. To fill in the pause in conversation she asked, ‘Will she be OK?’

‘Have you met our leading lady yet?’ Oliver replied.

Kat shook her head.

‘Julia is always in the middle of a crisis,’ Oliver told her. ‘I attract scandals, she attracts crises. We probably shouldn’t be allowed to work together. There’s always a danger of too much drama.’ He laughed and Kat found herself relaxing. ‘Now, tell me, what are you drinking?’ he said.

‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be meeting Chris?’

Oliver shrugged and shook his head. ‘Not yet.’

‘Won’t you be in trouble?’

‘I’m used to it. Trust me, you are far better company than Chris, not to mention better-looking, and I might not get this opportunity again.’ He smiled his slow, drawn-out smile and Kat’s stomach flipped and fluttered in response. It was almost as though his smile kept time with his thoughts but she felt at a distinct disadvantage because, while she could hazard a guess, she actually had no idea what his thoughts were.

‘Besides, I told you trouble is my middle name.’

Kat smiled back. There was no denying his charm. ‘Maybe trouble should have been your first name.’

Oliver laughed as he stood up and even his laugh was perfect. Deep and rich, he sounded like someone who laughed often. ‘Chris will make me sweat for making him wait. I might as well enjoy a beer if he’s going to take his revenge in dead lifts and push-ups anyway.’

‘OK, thank you; a beer sounds good,’ Kat said, accepting his invitation.

‘Explain to me how the stunt double thing works,’ she said when Oliver returned from the bar. ‘I get that Chris has a similar physique to you and even moves a bit the same, but he doesn’t look like you. Is that a problem? Is that why you’re doing some of your own stunts?’

‘No. Chris has been my body double on several movies and he wears a wig if needed, but in this movie he’s often wearing a helmet, so his hair, or lack of it, is irrelevant.’

‘What about his eyes?’ Oliver’s were such a distinctive, vibrant blue, Kat couldn’t see how they could work around that.

‘He’s not in any close-up shots, so we don’t need to see his eyes, but he could probably wear coloured contact lenses if necessary. The make-up girls are good and nowadays there’s always CGI.’

Oliver was distracted by something over Kat’s right shoulder. She wondered if Chris had come to force him into the gym and so was surprised when she heard her name.

‘Kat?’

She turned to find her cousin, Dean, and his wife, Saskia, standing behind her. While she knew almost everyone in town, she hadn’t been expecting to see any familiar faces in this particular bar. The Cave Hotel was expensive and usually frequented exclusively by tourists.

Kat stood up and greeted them both with a kiss. ‘Hi. What are you doing here?’

‘Dean is taking me to dinner at Mona’s. It’s our wedding anniversary.’

The hotel restaurant, Mona’s, was the best in town and was the one drawcard for the locals, who often chose to dine there to celebrate special occasions.

‘Of course it is,’ Kat replied. ‘Happy anniversary.’ But Saskia had turned her attention to Oliver by now and was looking at him with interest.

‘Hello. I’m Saskia and this is my husband, Dean.’

Oliver was already on his feet. ‘Oliver Harding,’ he said as he shook Saskia’s hand and then Dean’s.

‘What are you two up to?’ Dean asked.

Kat could see the look of approval on Saskia’s face but, whereas her expression was one of appreciation, Dean looked wary. That wasn’t unexpected—Kat, Dean and his brother, Roger, were more like siblings than cousins and the boys had always been protective of Kat, particularly when it came to who she dated, but she didn’t need Dean trying to rescue her from this situation. There wasn’t a situation at all. This was just a work meeting.

To his credit Oliver didn’t seem fazed by Dean’s abrupt question but Kat jumped in before Oliver could say anything that could be misconstrued. She didn’t need any rumours getting back to her father. ‘Oliver is an actor in the movie that’s being shot in town. I’m going to be working with him.’

‘As what?’ Dean asked. His piercing gaze would have pinned a lesser man to the spot but Oliver seemed completely unperturbed by the attention.

‘The emergency response officer,’ Kat replied.

‘That sounds appealing,’ Saskia said with a slight smirk. Kat glared at her but Saskia just smiled, while Dean continued to size Oliver up.

Kat watched them both. Oliver was squaring up to Dean and she wondered if she’d need to step in between them. As fit as Oliver was, she wasn’t sure he’d be a match for her cousin in a physical confrontation.

The men were much the same height, both a couple of inches over six feet, but Dean was probably twenty kilograms heavier with a hardness about him that Kat knew came from growing up in this environment. Oliver’s muscles came from gym work, which was different from the muscles gained from working outdoors in the heat and dust of the Australian outback. Dean was neat and tidy but he had a toughness about him, except when he was with his wife and kids.

Oliver was groomed, not tough, still all male but a more polished version. He was gorgeous but, as far as Kat knew, he was used to Hollywood. In comparison, Dean was used to the outback, which was tough and rugged and, Kat imagined, just about as far from Hollywood as it was possible to get. Dean’s life couldn’t be more different from Oliver’s.

‘And what exactly does that entail?’ Dean asked.

‘It’s exciting. I’ll tell you about it over dinner,’ Saskia said as she tucked her arm into Dean’s elbow and prepared to lead him through the bar and into the restaurant.

Kat had told Saskia about the job offer. Saskia and Dean had been together since high school and Saskia was like a sister to Kat. As an only child, she appreciated the relationship she had with her cousin’s wife. She was slightly envious of her cousins’ marriages; they had what she wished for. They had found their ‘one’.

Once upon a time, Kat had had that too. She had thought she was going to get her own happily-ever-after, but things hadn’t turned out how she’d expected and now she was starting to wonder if she was ever going to find her soulmate. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to find him in Coober Pedy—the town was dwindling; people were leaving. Would she have to leave too?

‘I would jump at the chance to take on that job if I didn’t have you and the kids and work to worry about,’ Saskia said, bringing Kat back to the present, ‘if I was single and free, like Kat,’ she added, directing her less than subtle remark to Oliver.

Kat needed to move them on before Saskia said something that would embarrass her. She hugged them both and said, ‘Enjoy your dinner,’ as she put some gentle pressure against the small of Saskia’s back, encouraging her to leave and take Dean with her.

But Saskia wasn’t done yet. ‘Will we see you on Sunday or are you working?’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘What’s happening on Sunday?’ Oliver asked when they were alone again.

‘Family dinner.’ It was a weekly occurrence and there was an expectation that everyone would attend, but Kat didn’t mind. She adored her family. Kat had moved back in with her father after her mother passed away, and her extended family—her aunt Rosa, Dean and Saskia, Roger and his wife, Maya, and their children—had dinner together every Sunday.

‘Family?’

Kat nodded. ‘Dean is my cousin.’

‘Your cousin! Do you have other family here?’

‘Yes, of course. My whole family is here. This is where I grew up.’

‘Here?’

‘Yes. I told you that.’

‘No. You never said you grew up here. You told me you lived here. Those are two different things.’

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Kat said.

‘How can you know what I’m thinking?’

‘Because it’s what everyone who’s not from here thinks. You assumed I moved here for work because why would someone choose to live here?’

‘I guess I did think it was for your job,’ Oliver agreed. ‘But that’s partly because everyone I know moves where their job takes them.’

‘I’ve lived here my entire life, just about.’ Give or take a few years in Adelaide, but she tried not to think too much about those years. ‘I choose to live here because my family is here. And because I miss it when I’m not here.’

‘What do you miss?’

‘The community. The people. The beauty.’ She could see from his expression that he didn’t believe her. ‘I’ll show you. There’s more to the outback than dust and flies.’

‘It’s a date,’ Oliver said, smiling again, and Kat realised, just a fraction too late, that he’d played her and got just what he wanted.

‘It’s not a date,’ she protested.

‘You can call it whatever you like,’ he said with a smile, ‘but I’m going to call it a date.’

He reached towards her and Kat thought he was going to pick up her empty glass, but his fingers reached for her hand. His thumb stroked the side of her wrist before he turned her hand over and ran his thumb over the sensitive skin on the underside. Kat’s insides turned liquid, she felt as though her bones were melting, and it took all her energy not to close her eyes and give in to the heat that flooded through her.

She needed to leave. To get out from under the spell he was casting over her. She was feeling vulnerable and she knew she was in danger of falling for his charm. He created an energy around him, around her.

‘I should go,’ she said as she pulled her hand away, breaking the spell before she made a complete fool of herself.

‘I guess I’d better get to the gym,’ he said as he stood, ‘but I’ll walk you to your car first.’

He kept a slight distance between them as they walked outside but even so she was aware of a field of attraction and desire surrounding them. Or at least surrounding her.

She turned towards him as they stopped at her car.

‘I’ll see you at work,’ he said as he opened the door that she’d once again left unlocked. ‘And I’m looking forward to our date,’ he added, ‘but until then…’ he said as he bent his head and leant towards her.

Kat didn’t intend to but she lifted her face, angling it up to him.

Was he going to kiss her?

Her eyelids drifted down, half-closed.

She could feel his breath on her cheek and then his lips pressed against her cheek, just in front of her ear, briefly touching her. Too briefly.

She opened her eyes.

He’d kissed her but not how she’d expected him to. Not how she wanted him to.

He was watching her and she knew he could read her mind. She’d wanted him to kiss her properly. She knew it and he knew it.

She needed to get a grip, she thought as she slid into her car. She was sure he had the same effect on dozens, hundreds, of women. Just because she felt something didn’t mean he did. He probably didn’t notice it. It was probably something he did out of habit. George had warned her but she couldn’t ignore or deny the feelings he evoked in her. She shouldn’t be so fascinated but she hadn’t met anyone like him. Ever. It was as if he was from a different world.

He scared her. Not in a frightening sense but in a sense that he would have seen far more than she ever had; she had no doubt he would have had his share of beautiful women around the world and she wasn’t worldly enough to compete. She didn’t want to compete. Not unless she knew she could win. And she suspected there would only be one winner if she let Oliver Harding get his way.

She was certain he was not the man for her. Just as she knew she wasn’t the woman for him. She wasn’t going to be anyone’s conquest. But she couldn’t deny he was attractive. Charming. And sexy.

She knew it would be almost impossible to deny her desire if he kept up his charm offensive, so she suspected the question wasn’t could she resist him, but rather how long could she resist him for?






‘Good morning! How was your date?’

Kat jumped, spilling her coffee over the kitchen bench as Saskia’s voice interrupted her morning routine. ‘Jesus, Sas, you scared the life out of me.’

‘Daydreaming about a cute actor, were you?’

‘No,’ Kat fibbed. ‘And it wasn’t a date.’

‘Looked like one to me.’

‘I was just there to meet some of the cast and crew,’ she said as she mopped up the spilt coffee. But she couldn’t help the blush she could feel creeping across her cheeks as Saskia’s comment reminded her that she had promised Oliver a date. At least, in his words she had.

Saskia raised one eyebrow but didn’t comment. She leant on the kitchen bench and sipped from her own mug that she’d brought in with her. Kat knew it would still be hot; Saskia hadn’t come far. She and Dean lived next door.

Saskia and Dean, Roger and Maya, plus Kat’s aunt and uncle all lived in the same street, with their underground houses dug into the same hill. As their family had expanded they had simply dug more rooms and added new entrances so they all had their own front door. Kat’s own parents had dug a house in the same hill and she had moved back in with her father when she returned to Coober Pedy from Adelaide. She didn’t mind living close to her family—she enjoyed the feeling of belonging—but sometimes the proximity could be disconcerting.

If the houses were viewed from outside, all that was obvious were the front doors and some windows. Gardens, or what passed for gardens in the arid country, were at the front, complete with barbecues or pizza ovens and outdoor seating areas used on the warm nights. The houses themselves extended back into the hill. Internally her father’s house had white, lime-washed walls, which gave a welcome break from the perpetual sight of red earth. A few skylights and air vents protruded from the surface, but there was no way of telling how large the houses were from outside, and some were very large.

‘When do you start work on the movie?’ Saskia asked as she sat down at the kitchen table.

‘I’m going out to the set this morning, but only to get a feel for filming. There are no stunts today.’

Saskia looked Kat up and down. ‘Is that what you’re wearing?’

Kat was wearing black three-quarter-length trousers and a loose camisole top. The clothes were comfortable and cool, perfect for the late autumn heatwave they were experiencing, but she could tell by Saskia’s tone that she didn’t approve. ‘What’s wrong with this?’

‘Nothing, if you don’t mind Oliver seeing you dressed like a homeless person.’

‘I’m not dressing for him,’ she said, even as she began to rethink her outfit.

‘You’re right. It probably doesn’t matter. He probably doesn’t care what you’re wearing—he’s only interested in getting you out of your clothes.’

‘Saskia!’

‘How about you?’ Saskia continued, ignoring Kat’s exclamation. ‘Are you interested? You’d have to be comatose not to be.’

‘He’s not my type.’

‘What? Drop-dead gorgeous isn’t your type?’

Kat smiled but shook her head at the same time. ‘He could have his pick of women—what would he want with a country girl like me? Even if he did set his sights on me, I’m not going to fall for him just because his pickings are limited out here.’ How did she explain to Saskia that he made her nervous and that it was a mixture of excitement and uncertainty? She suspected he was far too experienced for her, and she didn’t want Saskia to laugh at her by telling her so.

‘I’m pretty sure he’s already set his sights on you, and it wouldn’t matter where you were, Kat, you’d get noticed. But if you think you can’t handle him…’ Saskia paused, waiting for a response, but when nothing was forthcoming she continued ‘…then you might as well go dressed as you are, or I could find you something else to wear?’






Kat checked her make-up in her rear vision mirror. She wasn’t wearing much as it was too hot and most of it would just slide off her face, but she touched up her signature red lipstick, telling herself she didn’t want to look like a country cousin in comparison to the actors on set but not admitting that she was really driven by a desire to look good for Oliver. She felt a little silly that she’d let Saskia talk her into changing her outfit but she had to admit she did look more presentable, and that boosted her confidence. The white fitted top clung to her and showed just a few centimetres of tanned, toned midriff, and the black and white vertical-striped loose trousers hugged her hips before flaring out over the pair of low wedge sandals she’d added. She was only on set as an observer today—it was a chance to get a feel for how things worked before her attendance was officially required and, because there were no stunts scheduled for today, she didn’t need to be in clothes that would have to withstand an emergency.

She was met by George’s assistant, Erica, who escorted her to the make-up trailer.

Oliver winked at her as she stepped inside and Kat’s nervousness about being on set was replaced by the nervous excitement that she felt every time she saw him. It had been a long time since anyone had paid her some attention and she couldn’t deny she found it extremely flattering.

In Coober Pedy all the locals knew her and she didn’t really interact with the tourists, except when they needed her medical expertise. She preferred to be at home when she wasn’t at work, but that habit wasn’t conducive to meeting people. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked her out.






‘All done.’ The make-up artist removed the disposable collar that protected Oliver’s costume and he stood up. He was wearing a space suit, dirty and torn, and his make-up made him look as though he’d been through an ordeal, lost on an alien planet. He hadn’t shaved, and Kat assumed he was supposed to look dishevelled, thirsty, and possibly in pain, but, to her eyes, he looked unbelievably good. The fake dirt and dust made his eyes even more noticeable, a more vivid blue.

‘What are you filming today?’

‘Do you know the plot?’

‘Not really. George gave me a little overview but not a script. I know it’s a science fiction movie but I have to admit that’s not really my thing. I like romantic comedies.’

‘I’ll have to remember that. OK, the plot in a nutshell: Earth has set up a space station, an air force base in the sky, the first line of defence against alien attack. One space station has been badly damaged and we are supposed to be evacuating and returning to Earth, but my “ship” is hit and crash-lands on another, previously undiscovered, planet. I have a dozen crew on board. Mechanics, scientists, astronauts, physicists, defence. I’m the commander, the most senior defence person on the ship. The planet has an atmosphere but it’s thin. Low oxygen—a bit like high altitude. There are no trees, nothing green, it’s a barren place, but gas readings indicate moisture and we think there could be water somewhere. I’ve gone off to scout.





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