The Midwife and the Millionaire. Fiona McArthurЧитать онлайн книгу.

      CHAPTER ONE

      ANOTHER squat boab tree dropped its leaves as Sophie Sullivan drove past, a sure sign the wet season was nearly over. She sounded her car horn at the frilledneck lizard basking in the middle of the dirt track and he reared on hind legs, spread his neck frill and hissed until he seemed much more than he really was.

      Typical male.

      At least the craggy red mountains that embraced her were true, she thought, as she drove towards the boulder-strewn river—that range was a dear part of home.

      Home: far north Western Australia, the Kimberleys and a place blissfully away from the city and men who shed lies like the boab shed leaves.

      Even the dusty Gibb River Road looked attractive until she saw the vehicle parked by the Pentecost and the motionless man beside the sluggish water.

      More crocodile fodder. She sighed—travellers caused her no end of concern, especially ones who hovered for long periods at the edge of the crocodile-inhabited rivers.

      The tourists parked by the river because of the view to the Cockburn Range across the ochre plains. Locals used the designated parking area at the top of the hill, well away from the water.

      She pulled up next to the expensive all-terrain vehicle and wound down her window. ‘You OK, there?’

      The man didn’t answer. He must’ve heard her truck. She was ten feet away from him. Careless and rude, she thought and narrowed her eyes. Finally he turned his head and glanced at her dismissively. ‘Fine, thanks.’

      He was big—Sophie couldn’t help but notice—bigger than her brother, Smiley, who topped six-two, and this guy was very nicely muscled so he’d be a mouthful for any croc, but he was too close and too stationary in a dangerous spot. It would be a shame to waste the body, she thought dispassionately, and with the new knowledge from Brand-name Brad she could have done without, it would be a waste of the designer jeans and Rolex watch.

      Congratulations were in order for her immunity from the male species. A hard-won but valuable lesson.

      Sophie bit back another sigh. How did you tell someone to get back in their vehicle when they blatantly ignored you?

      ‘You’ve seen the warnings?’ She looked at the sign herself, read it under her breath even. ‘Crocodiles Inhabit This Area. Keep Away from the Edge. Do Not Enter the Water.’ But her reading it didn’t make him face her. In fact, no further response to her at all.

      Grrr. Spare me from arrogant males. Despite the flags that waved from the man to say go away, she tried one more time. ‘About the crocodiles here?’

      ‘Yes, thanks.’ Far less cordial and this time he shifted his feet so he faced her. ‘I’m just passing through.’

      ‘You’ll pass right through a croc,’ she said drily. ‘I lost my darling dog in a spot like this once.’ And still had nightmares about the tragedy her lack of concentration had caused.

      Then he looked directly at her. He wasn’t to-die-for handsome, really, but he had those dark, dark lashes and an intense gaze that held her, effortlessly, until he dropped the connection as easily as he’d reeled her in. The trumpet call. Danger, and not from crocodiles. Her skin prickled.

      ‘I’m sorry to hear about your pet.’ He glanced back at the river before he looked again at her, to assess if she’d be a nuisance by the look of it, and Sophie could feel the warmth of the sun beat in the window, or