Bad Boys Down Under by Nancy Warren Page A

as always that she could almost have imagined their passionate embrace of the previous night.
    This early on a Saturday, the streets were all but empty, so she took in the Victorian architecture, mostly terrace houses, some neat and tidy, with a brightly painted door and updated windows, some sagging in Dickensian squalor. She recalled seeing streets like this on her trip in from the airport.
    Wait a minute, this looked exactly like the road to the airport.
    â€œWhere are we going?”
    â€œSurfing.”
    â€œWhich beach?”
    â€œNice little place called Byron Bay.”
    â€œByron Bay? Isn’t that in Queensland?”
    â€œSomebody’s been reading their Lonely Planet guide. Well done. Byron Bay is in the northern part of New South Wales. But you can drive to Queensland from there in about ten minutes,” he said, as though pleased with her grasp of Australian geography. “Excellent surfing.”
    â€œBut—but so does Bondi Beach.”
    â€œNot as good. And it’s too crowded.”
    â€œBut how—” She bit down on her own question, having a strong intuition that the answer was going to irritate her. So she shut up.
    Wisely, he stayed silent and since she wasn’t looking at him she didn’t have to know if he was smirking.
    â€œHere we go.”
    They were in a private airfield. Naturally. And he had his own plane. Naturally.
    When he climbed into the cockpit, she stilled. She’d go pretty far to keep a client happy, but getting herself killed by an overconfident womanizer was a little too far.
    â€œWhat’s the matter? Scared?” He shot her a grin of pure challenge.
    â€œNot scared. Prudent.”
    â€œTell her, Ernie,” he said to an official-looking older man in a uniform who stood ready to slam the doors shut. “I don’t like to boast.”
    Her eye-roll was a thing of beauty; too bad he was fiddling with instruments and didn’t see it.
    â€œMr. Crane’s a very good pilot.”
    â€œHave you flown with him?”
    The man grinned at her. “I taught him. Really, he’s a lot better than he looks.”
    There was prudence, and then there was stubbornness. Besides, she wasn’t usually risk-averse, and she did know how to have fun. From a plane, she would get more sightseeing done than she’d believed possible.
    â€œAll right. But if we crash, I’m going to be seriously disappointed.”
    Cam laughed shortly. “I won’t crash. I’ve got precious cargo on board.” He waited a bit and grinned. He jerked a thumb toward the back of the plane. “The new long board demo. I’m trying it out this weekend.”
    Ha, ha. Weekend? He hadn’t mentioned anything about a weekend. “Is this an overnight surfing trip?”
    The engine roared, and she swiftly fastened her seat belt. “Did I forget to tell you?” he shouted over the noise of propellers.
    â€œYes, you did.”
    â€œDon’t worry, I’ve got everything you’ll need.”
    He was just egotistical enough that he probably believed that, too.
    Still, it was a beautiful day, and she literally had a bird’s-eye view—once she stopped watching Cam at the controls, deciding he seemed to be doing what pilots usually did, and they were staying airborne. So, she gazed down at dry fields, farms, green leafy trees, and the sparkling blue waves.
    Cam brought the small plane down with barely a bump; naturally, there was a car waiting. Some kind of Australian SUV. They drove down a winding road with an amazing view of the bay on one side and the lush green hills on the other. Byron Bay was postcard-pretty, a big smiley-face curve of white sand and blue water. She tried not to notice how white the whitecaps were and concentrated on the smooth crescent of sand.
    â€œWhere are we going?” she asked when they didn’t take the posted road to the public parking.
    â€œMy house.”
    She