At the Cattleman's Command

‘Oh, there’s no need for that. I mean, thank you,’ Chas rephrased, ‘but I do have to drive back to Brisbane.’

‘What about an iced coffee, then?’ He turned to a passing waiter and placed the order for two iced coffees. ‘How about that table over there?’ he suggested to Chas. ‘Under the umbrella.’

Chas contemplated telling him he was the absolute limit, but he took advantage of the pause to stroll over to the table and pull out a chair for her.

Short of making a scene, there wasn’t much she could do but take her seat.

‘This is nice,’ he said, and gestured to the view of the sea beyond the gardens.

‘It is,’ she agreed, ‘although that’s hardly the point. Never mind, perhaps we can talk business,’ she added, and began, detail by minute detail, to advise him of the arrangements she’d put in place for his sister’s wedding, until he laughed and put up a hand in defence.

‘No more, please, Chas, you’re making me dizzy.’

‘I just thought you might like to know how I’m spending your money,’ she replied innocently.

‘Rather than paying me back for calling you Aphrodite? Of course.’ He paused as their coffees were served, then he asked the waiter to pass on to Reception where he was, since he was expecting some guests.

‘Certainly, Mr Hocking, sir,’ the waiter said defer-entially.

The silence between them lengthened after the waiter’s departure.

‘What?’ Tom Hocking said at last.

Chas shook her head. ‘I don’t know. There’s something about you that—’ She stopped and gestured with both hands.

‘Annoys you?’ he suggested.

‘So it would seem.’ Chas spooned some of the swirled cream atop the iced coffee into her mouth.

‘It’s probably because of how we met.’ His eyes were full of satanic amusement.

‘I know that,’ she murmured, and flinched as his bedroom returned to her mind’s eye.

‘Do you really have trouble telling your right from your left, Chas?’

‘I really do,’ she replied, and felt automatically for her watch. ‘Whether you like to believe it or not,’ she added. ‘Of course, it’s worse in the dark.’

All the same, how could she have been so careless? she wondered. And how was she going to cope with continued references to it? Maybe a cool, humorous touch was called for?

‘That’s a pretty spectacular bedroom you have.’ She gestured. ‘You could almost say it was designed for seduction.’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I’m not into “designer” seduction so you’ll have to blame the interior decorator my mother got in. No…’ He rubbed his knuckles across his jaw and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Come to that, I’m not into seduction at all. I prefer things to be mutually spontaneous. How about you?’

She stared at him frostily and made a mental note to strike all future humorous touches. ‘Naturally,’ she said, but it didn’t sound right, it didn’t sound soignée, it sounded just like someone who had been bested at her own game. She bit her lip.

He smiled lazily. ‘You have a little speck of cream on the corner of your mouth.’

Chas fished her napkin out from below the coffee glass and wiped her mouth.

‘That’s better,’ he drawled then lifted an eyebrow. ‘Well, I don’t know.’

‘What do you mean?’ She frowned.

‘It’s an eminently kissable mouth even without a speck of cream.’

Chas stared at him, her eyes widening and her colour fluctuating.

He started to laugh, with genuine amusement. ‘It’s OK, that’s not a fantasy I’m partial to along with a seduction-guaranteed bedroom. I just couldn’t resist it.’

It occurred to Chas that shock, horror and condemnation were becoming all too frequent reactions from her, and could even be fuelling Tom Hocking’s desire to shock her. But how to respond otherwise? To her amazement she heard herself having another go at cool amusement.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she said smoothly, ‘although there might be plenty of girls willing to smother themselves in whipped cream for you—who knows?’

‘And you couldn’t care less?’ he murmured.

‘No!’ She smiled. ‘I’m only the wedding consultant. Maybe, if I get Vanessa’s wedding right, you’ll consider me for your own?’

‘I doubt it.’ He smiled back. ‘I think I’d be far better off with someone who didn’t remind me of Aphrodite rising out of my bed, I really do.’

‘You’d probably need a man, then,’ she suggested.

He said softly with those mesmerising grey eyes glinting, ‘You’re showing your claws, Chas.’

‘Don’t provoke me.’ She looked at him exasperatedly. ‘I—’ She stopped as three people came up to the table.

‘Ah!’ Tom rose. ‘My guests. Chas, meet Will Darling, Heather, his wife, and Loretta Quinn. This is Chas Bartlett.’

Chas recognised Will Darling immediately. He was a captain of industry seen frequently in the papers and on television. His wealth was legendary; his wife, Heather, was almost as legendary for the parties she gave and an extremely forthright manner.

As for Loretta Quinn, in her late twenties and stunningly beautiful, she played the harp and had just released a solo album that had rocketed to the top of the charts. There was something almost fey about her trademark long, curly fair hair, her pointed little chin and her eyes that were the colour of eucalyptus leaves. She wore all white, a loose, lovely dress with a handkerchief hem.

Both she and Heather Darling kissed Tom with obvious affection before turning to Chas.

‘How do you do?’ Heather said. ‘Are you Tom’s new girlfriend? I do hope so. You look rather nice, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

‘Heather!’ Will Darling looked heavenwards, and he shook Chas’s hand. ‘Take no notice of her, my dear. Mind you, she’s right about the last bit—Tom?’

‘No, although we did meet in bed,’ Tom said, and the absolutely wicked laughter in his eyes caused the faint pink in Chas’s cheeks to deepen. ‘Sadly,’ he added as everyone stared at Chas with a kind of fatal fascination, ‘it was by accident. No, she’s a wedding consultant extraordinaire. I hired her for—’

‘Not Vanessa’s wedding?’ Heather broke in excitedly. ‘Are we talking Vanessa’s wedding? I’m so looking forward to it! Has she actually set a date?’

Chas nodded, revealed the date and murmured that the invitations were due to go out shortly.

‘Look here, Will, darling—’ Heather turned to her husband ‘—don’t you dare be anywhere else on that day! What about you, Loretta?’

Loretta looked injured. ‘Would I do that to Vannie? I promised I’d play the “Wedding March” for her.’

Chas took a breath, most of her discomfort melting at this news. ‘That…that would be so lovely!’