Page 2 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘Here, allow me.’ He took the tyre with one hand, effortlessly carrying it like it was a handbag. But it was the sexy saunter in his dusty denim jeans that had her head tilting for a better look.

‘You don’t have to …’ She rushed after that beautiful butt. She’d rushed a lot for paperwork, votes, time, but never a butt. Yet she had to follow like he was the Pied Piper.

‘I’m doing it, aren’t I?’ He dumped the spare tyre in the dust, pushed back the brim of his cowboy hat, then crouched down in the dirt. He used a tool to loosen the tyre’s nuts, then slid the jack under the car, and started raising the car in a matter of moments. ‘Why did you take out all your tools?’

‘I didn’t know what was required.’ She checked her watch. Did she have time to change? She certainly didn’t have time for this unplanned delay. It was like someone was making her waste time, stuck on the side of the road like this.

‘So, you’ve never changed a car tyre, then?’ The beautiful man’s grin was only brightened by his stunning set of white teeth that contrasted perfectly with the deep tan. But the way his biceps worked as he effortlessly pushed the handle of the jack up and down, like a guy in the gym, made it impossible to look away.

What did he say?

Did he just imply she was dumb?

Two

Ash chuckled at the pretty lady in the tight black skirt and dirty business shirt. It was obvious she’d never changed a tyre in her life. Even if the frown wasn’t that flattering, at least she’d stopped staring at him like a roo trapped under a spotlight, scared as if he was going to shoot her.

Ash had never seen a woman with smooth skin as pale as ivory. Not out here. She suited her slick Audi with its fancy rims and interstate plates.

She was something special, alright. A pretty, wealthy-looking woman, with her hair and make-up immaculately done, like a model for some business magazine, or airline hostess, just richer. Even the water bottle she drank from was fancy.

‘Is there something I can do to speed up things?’ She checked her wristwatch again.

Besides, standing there and looking pretty … ‘No. We’re good.’ Ash pulled off the flat tyre. ‘You should get this tyre fixed in town before you go any further.’

‘Why?’ She arched one eyebrow at him as if he were telling her some tall tale.

At least she’d stopped looking at him like he was an axe murderer.

‘Listen, the outback roads chew up city tyres like these in no time. Unless you’ve got another spare floating in the back seat?’ He dumped the dusty tyre into the boot, noting the fancy suitcase on the back seat.

‘Where is the nearest town? City? Or something that resembles a human species gathering in one central location.’ Like a businesswoman, late and lost in a foreign country, she pulled out a map. The seriousness was hot on her. ‘The GPS thingy didn’t work.’

He struggled to not laugh. ‘Why? Where were you headed?’

‘Elsie Creek—’

‘The GPS should’ve picked up that town easily enough. It’s on one of the back roads to Kakadu.’ Ash pointed to the road in the direction he’d come from, while his eyes travelled up and down her trim figure. ‘You’ll want to take the next right. Keep going until you hit bitumen, then turn left. The mechanics are just past the Elsie Creek Pub, they’ll be able to fix your tyre. How did you get out here?’ Because she’d passed the turn-off to the town of Elsie Creek miles back.

‘Um …’ She hesitated, as she tried to read the map as if it was written in a foreign language. ‘I must have picked up the wrong map. It can’t be that hard, right? You just go from point A to point B without that lovely, computerised airline-hostie voice saying you are at your destination.’

He grinned as he leaned in closer, inhaling her delicate aroma as he turned her map the right way up. ‘That’s north.’

‘I would’ve worked it out, eventually. You know, it’s paperwork. I’m good with paperwork.’ She slipped on her sunglasses as if to hide the blush that bathed her ivory skin, highlighting her plump, kissable lips.

Honestly, she was stunning in a fragile, feminine way that was igniting all his inner nerve endings with the need to impress this woman.

She was not the normal type of female he’d expected to meet on the side of the road. A conservatively dressed female, in a tight black skirt that showed off the curves of her thighs and high and tight arse to perfection. She wore no rings, just that watch she kept checking, and a set of simple pearl earrings that looked real.

She was way out of his league.

Ash pushed the spare tyre against the hub flange on the car. Spun the lug nuts over the threaded studs until tight, then lowered the jack. Satisfied with a final tighten of the studs, he tossed all the tools back into her car. ‘All done.’ If he’d been smarter, he would have dragged this out to flirt with the pretty lady some more.

‘Here, take this for your trouble.’ She held out a fifty-dollar note. ‘I was going to pay for a car service.’ She peered at him over her sunglasses. ‘Maybe use it on that vehicle you drive?’

His old ute might look ragged, but she didn’t need to look down at it like that. ‘All good. I’m happy to help a lady. You can buy me a beer at the pub later.’ Then he’d buy her dinner, if she didn’t mind a pub meal. Although she wasn’t the type of woman who’d hang out in the pub, either. So, what was a woman who looked like some fallen angel on a business trip, doing out here?

Now that’d be a story worth listening to.

---