Fiona McArthur - The Midwife and the Millionaire

Levi gestured her ahead of him and Sophie pulled up short at the candlelit veranda; a glass ceiling showcased the glorious starlit sky above a table that glowed with white linen and silver cutlery. ‘Amazing room.’

‘Very civilised,’ Levi agreed, as if he were still surprised by it. Even that offended her, as if they couldn’t put on a good show up here in the bush.

She took her seat and, much to Sophie’s amazement, dinner proved a delightful affair. They were joined by the resort manager, Steve, a handsome young man—more Odette’s age than Levi’s—who said and did all the right things and was very anxious to ensure that Odette was safely seated or served, as if she were an invalid. Baby phobia, Sophie guessed, but he left Sophie with a feeling of awkwardness she couldn’t explain.

The rapport between Levi and Odette showed genuine affection. Reluctantly Sophie admitted she liked that—family was important—so he had some redeeming features which she didn’t really want to see. And Levi devoted himself to being a wonderful host. Then again, her ex, Brad, had been a great host too.

Odette remained animated and ‘William’ held his own end of the conversation up for a change. Sophie had to shut her mouth when she would normally have answered for her brother until finally she subsided in awe at his previously hidden ability to socialise. He could have come on his own after all. Great!

Until the talk turned to helicopters and the suggestion of a joint expedition the next day. This she couldn’t keep silent on. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to go along. Helicopters fall out of the sky.’

Levi sat back in his chair and smiled at her. ‘No, they don’t.’

Loosened up by the delightful Margaret River Shiraz, Sophie pointed her finger at him. ‘I want to know what happens when the engine stops in a helicopter.’

Her comment came in a lull and stilled the other conversations, and Levi tilted his head at her. ‘They glide. Autorotation. Instead of the air being pulled in from the top by the engine, the rotors turn the other way and pull the air in from underneath as you descend. Gives you fairly good forward and downward control. Like a winged aeroplane, just not as far.’

She didn’t believe him. ‘How far?’

‘Enough to get passengers on the ground without hurting them.’ He held her gaze, daring her to disbelieve him.

Sounded too simple. ‘Then you can take off again?’

He rubbed his chin. ‘Maybe not always without hurting the chopper.’ He seemed sure of his facts.

Sophie digested that.

‘We’ve two helicopters at Xanadu,’ Steve said, ‘and never had a problem.’ He smiled kindly at her and she almost felt patted like a small dog. Sophie wondered why she had the urge to wipe the smile off his face. Maybe the poor guy had trained himself to be extra accommodating around his VIP guests, but Sophie found his attentions irritating.

She glanced at Levi but she couldn’t read anything in his face. He was probably used to people fawning over him.

The conversation moved on and Sophie sat back to observe. She watched mostly Levi, despite her attempts not to be drawn to him. He made no blatant attempt to direct the conversation, he just did. While she didn’t like him she had to admit he was smooth. He seemed to know the right thing to bring out the passion in Smiley for the land, and Sophie was surprised by her brother’s apparent liking for their host.

Sophie refused to fall for the same thing and she wasn’t going to lose. Actually, she wanted to go home or at least get out of this room, away from him.

With the meal cleared away, Sophie drifted towards the end of the veranda where the steps led down to the path around the side of the homestead. The stars winked down at her and the further she moved away from the veranda the brighter the sky lights formed into the constellations and patterns she’d grown up with.

The Southern Cross, the Pot, the Milky Way. A wooden bench under a huge boab looked the perfect place to hide. She sank gratefully down on warm wood in the dimness, and the soft breeze rattled the boab leaves over her head as if to soothe her.

Until Levi strode out onto the veranda with his satellite phone and shattered the magic of the night, along with the calm she’d achieved.

Typical city man. They never stopped. No doubt he couldn’t imagine being without a phone at his fingertips, to direct underlings and ensure nobody forgot how important he was, and to order up the next convenience. Or like Brad, to check that his woman was waiting patiently at home, while he dallied somewhere else.

She’d like to see Levi bogged in a bulldust hole with no handy phone. See how resourceful he’d be with nobody but himself to rely on.

Then he saw her, ended the conversation and snapped his phone shut. She leant back into the shadows in a futile move as if he would forget she was there, slightly guilty about her mean thoughts for a man she barely knew, but still bitter by personal experience from the callousness of a man like him.

He paused at the bottom of the steps, and she thought he probably didn’t even want to get his shoes dirty out here. Her nose wrinkled.

Levi hesitated at the bottom step, quite sure Sophie didn’t want company, and reluctant to force his company on her. ‘Coffee is ready if you’d like some.’ He glanced at the grass. ‘Unless you’d prefer it out here?’

She stood and walked towards him with a swish of her blue dress and he felt the rebuke for ruining her peace. She had attitude all right, he thought, but she carried it well. ‘Thank you. Inside will be fine.’

There was no doubt the less she saw of him, the better, and no doubt either that the less he saw of her, the better.

LEVI stopped as he entered the room for breakfast on the veranda next morning. It seemed he’d interrupted an amusing show.

His sister, with much eye batting and smiles, was trying to convince cowboy William to do the scenic tourist fly in the chopper. Apparently they should fly to the Bungle Bungles, a massive prehistoric range of striped domes at the edge of the Tanami Desert, with a picnic basket, an idea which left a horrified expression on Sophie the orchid’s face. Intriguing situation.

He could see a ride in the helicopter was the last thing Sophie wanted to do, make that second last. If he read her expression right when she glanced at him, the last thing she wanted was to stay behind at Xanadu, alone, with him.

Levi could tell. That was amusing too. Sort of. Though he’d never had someone blatantly avoid his company before.

He sat down next to Sophie at breakfast, maybe too deliberately close, so his thigh touched hers when he turned, and he could actually feel her thrum with awareness. The fresh herby stuff she’d washed her hair with teased his nose and some psycho inside wanted to sniff her head. Now that would go over well as a space invasion.

Even her skin glowed golden in the morning light, like the honey on the crumpet she nibbled at, and reminded him he’d spent more than a few hours in bed last night trying not to remember those lush little hips and lips. He must be having a crisis.

‘Good morning, Sophie.’

‘Morning.’ Her answer was accompanied by a darting look that came and went as she shrank her shoulders to avoid contact.

He had to bite back a smile. Becoming a habit those smiles. Very strange. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Fine, thanks.’ Another flick of her eyes and he relented and shifted his chair a few inches away to give her some space. Her delightful shoulders actually sank with relief and he wondered why he was playing with her. He wasn’t normally pushy.

‘Did you sleep?’ It seemed she could talk easier too.