A Bush Christmas Read Free Page A

was the clutch of her thighs against his and the clasp of her hands around his waist. It was an awesome feeling. She closed her eyes and just went with the flow of man and bike.
    Â 
    All too soon it was over. The motorbike was slowing down in front of a cute-looking general store with its bull-nosed verandah and twin colonial windows facing the road. The shop’s outside lights were glowing a welcome in the early evening air.
    Stirling pulled the bike up in front of the place just as the heavens opened, sending down the heaviest rain Jaime had ever been in. It was coming in sheets and she wondered why the heck the man in front of her wasn’t getting off the bike.
    He started slapping her leg just as a voice came from under the shelter of the verandah. ‘You’ll have to get off the bike first, love, so he can keep it balanced!’
    Shit. Of course. Silly her. She stood up and bailed off the bike before doing a runner to the shelter of the verandah, pulling off her helmet as she went. Stirling unclipped one of his bike’s panniers and threw it across to the bloke who’d come up to stand beside her. The unknown man thankfully caught it rather than dropping it into the rapidly forming puddles at her feet. Stirling ‘whoever’ then gave a little nod, revved the V-Max and rode off.
    Like, far out. What was it with this place?
    â€˜Guess that means you’re staying here?’ said the bloke beside her.
    Jaime turned to see a wicked pair of blue eyes, peering out from a floppy fringe of blonde hair, regarding her with interest. Aha. Now this sort of man she could handle. She flicked her locks back across the Pro Hart overalls, refusing to think of the helmet hairdo she must be sporting, fluttered her lashes and made an effort to look wide-eyed. ‘And you would be?’
    â€˜I’m Ryan Morley.’
    â€˜So you’re Ryan!’
    â€˜I knew my reputation was good, but I didn’t think it was that good. Tell me, what did you hear? I like to know if my talents are slipping.’ The man’s eyes twinkled as they stared at her. He looked to be about her age and Jaime watched as his expression of kindness turned to male interest. She inwardly smiled. Obviously the helmet hadn’t done any serious damage. But then she realised he was looking lower.The overalls had come undone in the tearing wind and her nipples were on high beam through her now damp shirt. She hastily grabbed at the copious material to cover herself, thanking the heavens for Bluey’s wife’s curves.
    She put out a hand for the pannier. ‘Lovely to meet you, Ryan, but I can take that now, thanks. Is there any way I can get to Polly’s Plains House tonight?’
    The man went to throw a hand in the direction of the disappearing motorbike, but then seemed to think better of it. ‘Well, I’m just about to close up the store. I could give you a lift?’
    Jaime took another glance at him. The clean-cut, American college-boy look didn’t quite suit this backwater. But he didn’t seem like an axe murderer either, and where the hell else was she going to sleep tonight? Although, the way Ryan Morley was drinking her in she resolved not to take the overalls off until she was well and truly inside Polly’s Plains House. Wherever the hell that was.

Chapter 3
    The note sat on the old wooden kitchen table. She didn’t see it at first, intent as she was on getting rid of Ryan before he moved past the kitchen. He had turned out to be a nice, harmless sort of man who was apparently waiting for a new backpacker to rock up and help him over Christmas in the store. Though judging by the few houses she had seen in Burdekin’s Gap tonight, she couldn’t imagine Ryan requiring another hand over the festive season. Perhaps he needed some Swedish backpacker to warm his frypan and bed?
    This joint was so remote you would have to be a special kind of woman to live here. The drive to