Breaking The Playboy's Rules. Emily Forbes

that made him catch his breath. Her green eyes sparkled but it was the twin dimples that appeared on each side of her mouth that made him do a double take. At first glance there was no denying she was an attractive woman but when she smiled she was spectacular.

      She reminded him of the wildflowers that suddenly appeared after the desert rains—stunningly beautiful and completely unexpected—and he wondered if, like the native flowers, she would appear fragile yet turn out to be resilient.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said without protest. She didn’t tell him she’d be able to find the luggage trolley on her own; she didn’t tell him she didn’t need his help.

      She simply fell into step beside him and made him feel good about himself for helping. He watched the reaction of the remaining passengers as they walked through the terminal. He was used to being with beautiful women but it seemed as though every person in the building was looking at them and he didn’t flatter himself that he was the one who’d captured their attention. It was most definitely the willowy brunette they were watching.

      He felt like the schoolboy who’d caught the attention of the prom queen. He knew that was ridiculous and fanciful but that made no difference—it was how she made him feel and the sensation was unexpected but not unpleasant.

      The half-laden luggage trolley sat just outside the terminal doors.

      Emma reached up to grab a large duffel bag from the top of the pile.

      ‘Here, let me get that for you,’ he offered. ‘It looks heavy.’

      She could have managed to lift her bag and find the trolley, she’d just needed to know where it was. But she didn’t tell him she could manage because she found him fascinating and she was more than happy to let him help her. So she stepped back to let him past her.

      As he retrieved her bag from the trolley his biceps bulged, straining against the fabric of his shirt. She’d bet her last pound that his muscles came from physical work, not from lifting weights in a gym. He looked vibrant, healthy and solid, totally male. He seemed a far more masculine version of the men she was used to in England.

      Maybe it was the tougher environment out here, maybe it was the sun, the fresh air or the physical activity, but, whatever it was, someone had definitely got something right when they’d made him.

      ‘You’re staying in town for a while?’ he asked as he hefted her bag and slung it over his shoulder.

      He was grinning and once again she had the feeling that he was doing his best not to laugh at her. She knew her bag was heavy, even though he made it look light.

      When she’d packed she hadn’t really known what she’d need and as usual she knew she would have brought far too many pairs of shoes. She’d already noticed that everyone in the airport wore no-nonsense sturdy shoes or flip-flops and she hadn’t seen one pair of sparkly shoes on anyone over the age of thirteen.

      She knew her bag was bulging at the seams and she knew she might not need the three pairs of strappy stilettos she’d packed, or even the two pairs of ballet flats, but surely she didn’t have to sacrifice her fashion sense completely just because she was in the middle of nowhere?

      ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. Her plans hadn’t evolved at all past getting on the plane and arriving in town.

      ‘What brings you here?’ He was frowning as he carried her bag into the terminal.

      ‘I’m visiting my cousin.’

      ‘Is that who’s running late?’

      She nodded in reply.

      ‘How late?’ he asked.

      Emma checked her watch and felt his eyes follow her movement. ‘About an hour. She sent me a message, something about the clinic running late.’

      ‘The clinic?’ he queried. ‘What does she do, this cousin of yours?’

      ‘Do you always ask this many questions?’ she countered, wondering if it was the country manner to be this direct or just his manner.

      ‘Yep,’ he answered, with a smile that made his blue eyes sparkle.

      ‘Sophie’s a physio at the hospital,’ she told him, realising she’d tell him just about anything he wanted to know provided he was smiling at her.

      ‘You’re not talking about Sophie Stewart, are you?’

      ‘Yes, do you know her?’

      He was nodding.

      Just exactly how small was this town? Emma wondered. First he’d known Lisa and now Sophie. But it was good news for her as it meant she was in the right place after all.

      ‘She’s out on a clinic run with the flying doctors,’ he said. ‘There’s a storm out over Innamincka that’s delayed their return.’

      Emma remembered Sophie mentioning something about the allied health hospital staff sometimes working with the flying doctor service. Her eyes flicked to the logo on his shirt pocket, the wings of the flying doctors. Soph got to work with this man? No wonder she’d said she planned to stay in Broken Hill for a while.

      ‘I’m a pilot with the flying doctors,’ he said when he saw the direction of her gaze. ‘I’m Harry Connor …’ he extended his hand ‘… and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Sophie’s cousin.’

      ‘Emma. My name is Emma Matheson,’ she replied, as she reached for his hand.

      And there it was again. That same tingle that made her catch her breath. The feeling that he was taking all her oxygen and causing her light-headedness. Only this time she couldn’t blame adrenalin. That had had plenty of time to settle while she’d been sitting waiting.

      ‘So, Emma Matheson, what do you plan to do now?’ he said as he released her hand.

      She wasn’t big on plans but fortunately Harry hadn’t finished. He continued speaking and gave her some options. ‘Did you want to hang around here? Or you could wait at the flying doctor base or I could drop you off at Sophie’s place.’

      ‘I don’t have a key.’

      He laughed. Out loud this time and it was such a pleasant sound, deep and full and it resonated through her. It was so genuine she couldn’t find it irritating, even though she knew it was at her expense. ‘I doubt the house is locked and if it is I know where the key is hidden.’

      Did he and Sophie have history? And what about Lisa?

      He read her mind. ‘Don’t look at me like that. It’s all perfectly innocent. And I promise I’m completely trustworthy.’

      She doubted very much that he was innocent but she wanted to believe she could trust him. Jeremy’s behaviour had shaken her faith in men but she had a good association with men in uniforms. Besides, she’d seen how he treated Lisa and he knew Sophie. She wanted to think he was a man who could be trusted, and with a laugh like that, one that reached right into his bright blue eyes, how could he be anything but nice?

      ‘Now, where can I take you?’ he asked, obviously deciding she’d had enough time to make up her mind.

      ‘If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to go to Sophie’s. I need a shower and a change of clothes.’

      ‘Done.’

      ‘But aren’t you supposed to be working?’

      ‘Nope. My shift’s over. I came across to the airport when I heard the distress call. I have clearance to be on the airport apron and I thought I might be needed. Turns out I am.’ He grinned and Emma’s insides skittered. She wasn’t about to complain about his presence. It did feel as though he’d been sent to help her.

      ‘Come with me,’ he invited. ‘Send Sophie a text and let her know I’ll drop you at her place—that way you know I’ll have to get you there safely,’ he added as Emma still hesitated.

      ‘That’s