‘Bugs?’ Hugh looked a tad worried.
‘Moreton Bay bugs,’ Jo hastened to explain, pointing to the platter in the table’s centre. ‘They’re a type of crayfish. If you like seafood, you’ll love these.’
Hugh did like them. Very much. In fact he loved everything on the table and ate as much seafood and salad as her brothers, which was saying something. And then he found room to sample the mince pies.
And, not surprisingly, he was an expert dinner party guest, an interesting conversationalist, who also encouraged Nick and Brad to regale them all with hilarious accounts of the antics of the ringers on the cattle stations where they worked. And he enjoyed listening while the younger children chimed in with their stories too.
Knowing how tense Hugh had been yesterday, Jo was surprised by how relaxed he seemed now. No doubt he was charming her family to ensure her commitment to helping him.
She decided to relax. She’d been working hard all year in the city and had put in long hours in the shop during the past week and now she decided to let go a little and to enjoy the fine icy champagne. How in heaven’s name had Hugh unearthed such lovely French champagne in the Bindi Creek pub?
Everyone raved about Jo’s Christmas pudding of brandy-flavoured ice cream filled with dried fruit, nuts and cherries and afterwards her mum announced that she was going to have a little lie down. And everyone agreed that was exactly what she deserved.
‘Jo, you take Hugh out on to the back veranda for coffee,’ she suggested, ‘while this mob gets cracking in the kitchen.’
With coffee cups in hand, Jo and Hugh retired to the veranda. They leant against the railing, looking out over the tops of straggly plumbago bushes to the sunburnt back paddock and it was good to stand and stretch for a while; Jo felt she had eaten and drunk too much.
The air was warm and slightly sticky and it hung about them like a silent and invisible veil. Jo would have liked to run down to the creek, to shed her clothes and take a dip in the cool green water. She’d done it often before, in private, but she found herself wondering what it would be like to skinny-dip with Hugh. The very thought sent her heartbeats haywire.
They didn’t speak at first and she felt a bit self-conscious to be alone with him again after sharing him with her noisy family. The slanting rays of the afternoon sun lit up the dark hair above his right ear, lending it a gilded sheen and highlighting his cheekbone and one side of his rather aristocratic nose.
Eventually he said, ‘Your family are fascinating, aren’t they?’
‘Do you really think so? It must be rather overpowering to meet them all in one fell swoop.’
He smiled as he shook his head. ‘I think you’re very lucky to have grown up with such a happy brood. They’re so relaxed.’
She shrugged. ‘They have their moments. Christmas is always fun.’
‘I’m impressed that they’ll take in a stranger, knowing next to nothing about him.’
Too true, she thought. Hugh had shared rather personal details about Ivy in his bid to enlist her help, but she knew next to nothing about the rest of his life.
‘You don’t come from a big family?’ she asked.
‘Not in terms of brothers and sisters. I’m an only child. I guess that’s why I’m always fascinated by big families.’
‘Sometimes I envy only children. It would be nice, now and then, to have that kind of privacy. Then again, I spend most of my time these days working in the city.’
His right eyebrow lifted, forming a question mark, but, unlike her, he didn’t give voice to his curiosity, so there was an awkward moment where they were both aware that the rhythm of their conversation had tripped.
Hugh stood staring into the distance.
‘Are you thinking about Ivy?’ Jo asked.
At first he seemed a little startled by her question, but then he smiled. ‘How did you guess?’
‘Feminine intuition.’ She drained her coffee cup. ‘Seriously, it must have come as a shock to have a five-year-old dropped into your life.’
‘It was a shock all right.’ Taking a final sip of coffee, he set his empty cup and saucer on a nearby table and, with his usual gentlemanly manners, he took Jo’s cup and set it there too.
‘I feel so unprepared for meeting Ivy,’ he said. ‘I don’t like being unprepared. How the hell does a bachelor suddenly come to terms with caring for a child?’
‘He hires a nanny?’
‘Well, yes,’ he admitted with a wry grimace. ‘A nanny will be essential. But I’ll still have to do the whole fatherhood thing.’
‘At least Ivy’s not a baby. She can talk to you and express her needs. I’m sure you’ll become great mates with her.’
‘Mates?’ He couldn’t have looked more stunned if she’d suggested that Ivy would take over as CEO of his business.
‘Good friends,’ she amended.
‘With a five-year-old little girl?’
Jo thought of the warm lifelong friendship she’d shared with her mum. ‘Why not?’
Hugh shook his head. ‘A boy might have been easier. At least I have inside knowledge of how little boys tick.’
‘Don’t be sexist. There are lots of little girls who like the same things as boys. Grace and Tilly love to play cricket and go fishing. So do I, for that matter.’
‘Do you?’ He regarded her with a look that was both amused and delighted, but then he frowned and with his elbows resting on the veranda railing he stared down into the plumbago bush. ‘But what if Ivy turns on a horrendous scene? It would be horrible if she cried all the way home on the flight back to London.’
‘Goodness,’ cried Jo. ‘You’re a walking advertisement for the power of positive thinking, aren’t you?’
For a moment he looked put out, and then he smiled. ‘You’re right. I’m normally on top of things, so I guess I should be able to handle this.’ He sent Jo an extra devilish smile. ‘With a little expert help.’
Gulp. ‘Just remember Ivy is your flesh and blood,’ she said. ‘She’s probably a chip off the old block.’
‘Which would mean she’s charming and well-mannered, even-tempered, good-looking and highly intelligent.’
‘You missed conceited.’
Hugh chuckled softly and then he glanced up and seemed suddenly fascinated by something above her head. ‘Is that mistletoe hanging above you?’
Jo tipped her head back. Sure enough there was a bunch of greenery dangling from a hook in the veranda roof. ‘I can probably blame one of my brothers for that.’ She rolled her eyes, trying to make light of it, but as she looked at Hugh again his smile lingered and something about it sent shivers skittering through her.
How silly. This reserved Englishman had no intention of kissing her. And, even if he did, why should she get all shivery at the thought of a quick Christmas peck?
But her jumping insides paid absolutely no attention to such common sense.
Hugh gave an easy shrug of his shoulders and his eyes held hers as he murmured ever so softly in his super-sexy English voice, ‘Tradition is terribly important, Jo. And you’re under the mistletoe and it is Christmas.’
Her stomach began a drum roll.
CHAPTER THREE
SOMETHING deep and