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“Designing?”
“No, labouring.”
Polly frowned. Somehow it didn’t add up. Sure, he looked fit enough to do all kinds of manual work but… the way he spoke… he sounded as if he was more, what…?Educated…?Hell, she was grossly stereotyping, wasn’t she? A sudden vision of Solo naked to the waist and glistening in sweat as he heaved girders over his shoulder sent her into another near-meltdown.
On second thoughts, manual work it most definitely was.
Flustered, she turned and leaned her elbows on the wall. Beyond the hotel’s reticulated gardens, great swathes of wheat spread out towards the red ball of the setting sun.
“It’s still freakin’ hot, isn’t it?” she said.Pathetic. Surely she could do better than the weather. “So, if I’m allowed to ask, where are you from, Solo?”
“Sydney.”
“Sydney.” She couldn’t help a surprised glance. “How did you end up in Western Australia?”
“I rode over.”
“Oh, yeah? Where’s your faithful steed?”
“Parked out the front. The red Ducati.”
An image of those thighs draped around a big shiny bike made her mouth dry up again. She feigned interest in the sunset. “Yeah? How long did that take?”
“Two weeks. I camped on the road.”
“One more day and you’ll be there, then.”
“Yep, decided to go luxury for my last night. Only to realise I was gatecrashing a wedding. I was surprised the hotel had a room spare.”
“Most people are staying at the bride’s place. Her dad owns a zillion hectares of wheat out here.”
He leaned his hip against the wall, studying her. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you staying at their property?”
Polly kept her eyes on the sun as it slid lower. “Um, no.”
“Why not?”
“I—um…”
“Too awkward, maybe?”
God the guy was astute.
“No, not at all.” There was no need to explain how her long-termfriends with benefitsarrangement had ended abruptly six months ago when she’d introduced Jake to Lou. And that while she was ecstatically happy for them, she wasn’t staying in the same building while they got on with their wedding night bonk.
“Here you are, I’ve been looking everywhere-—they’re about to cut the cake.”
Polly suppressed a huff, not sure whether to be annoyed or relieved at her friend Judith’s appearance.
Judith beckoned. “Come on, quick.”
Polly started to back away; realised she had a ninny grin on her face and gave herself a mental slap. “Mustn’t miss the cake being cut. Nice to meet you, Solo.”
“Likewise.” Did his gaze darken, or was that just the fading light? “Catch you later, maybe.”
