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Holding hands already!’

      So much for her senses being heightened! Copper hadn’t even heard the clatter of boots on the verandah steps, and when the kitchen door burst open she jerked her hand out of Mal’s as if she had been caught in the most passionate of clinches, her cheeks burning.

      One of the most handsome men she had ever seen stood in the doorway. He was as tall as Mal, but much fairer, with sun-streaked hair, merry blue eyes and an air of almost tangible charm. Laughing, he tossed Megan up in his arms.

      ‘You see what happens when you leave your father alone with a pretty girl!’

      ‘Brett!’ An expression of weary resignation and something else Copper couldn’t quite identify swept across Mal’s face. ‘Have you finished those cattle?’

      ‘The boys can finish them,’ said Brett carelessly, apparently oblivious to Mal’s frown. ‘When Megan told me Dad had got a beautiful girl all to himself, I had to come and see for myself.’ The dancing blue eyes studied Copper approvingly as he let his niece down, and his gaiety was so infectious that she found herself smiling back at him.

      ‘This is my brother, Brett,’ said Mal. His face was wiped of all expression, but there was a rigid set to his jaw and a muscle jumped in his cheek. ‘Brett, this is Copper—’ He stopped, obviously trying to remember her surname.

      ‘Copley,’ she said helpfully. ‘I know it sounds silly, but there was another Caroline at school so I used to get called by my surname. Somehow Copley became Copper, and then I was stuck with it. Nobody calls me Caroline now, except my family, and I think some of my friends don’t even realise that Copper’s not my real name.’

      ‘Sounds like Mal,’ said Brett, ignoring Mal’s warning look and pulling out the chair next to Copper’s. ‘He was lumbered with three names—Matthew Anthony Langland Standish—so we always shortened it to Mal when we were kids, and now only business people call him Matthew.’

      ‘Perhaps I’d better call you Matthew, then,’ said Copper, turning to Mal. It seemed like a good opportunity to establish the appropriate relations.

      Mal frowned slightly. ‘I hardly think that’s necessary,’ he said. ‘If you’re going to be living here as a member of the family, there’s no need to be formal.’

      ‘Absolutely not,’ Brett agreed, running a lazily appreciative eye over Copper as he shook her hand with mock solemnity. ‘We’re going to use your nickname, so we can all be informal together. Copper suits you,’ he added, reaching out a hand to touch her hair. ‘Beautiful name...it sounds warm and burnished, like your hair.’

      Copper’s lips twitched. He was obviously a terrible flirt. She glanced at Mal from under her lashes. He was watching them with a dour expression, looking dark and stern in contrast to Brett’s golden, laughing presence. It was odd that the less handsome brother should be so much more intriguing. Brett was easily the better-looking, but he lacked Mal’s air of quiet, coiled strength, and when he touched her hand she felt no jolt of awareness, no tingling of the nerves, no clutch at the heart as she did just looking at Mal.

      She could sense his displeasure coming in waves across the table, and it was enough to make her smile charmingly back at Brett. After all, what did she care what he thought of her? Hadn’t she already decided that he meant no more than any other stranger? ‘Don’t tell me!’ she said. ‘Next you’ll be saying that all I need is a good rub to make me all bright and shiny!’

      Brett laughed. ‘I think you’re quite bright and shiny enough already,’ he said.

      Mal’s mouth was turned down at the corner. ‘I think you should go back and keep an eye on the jackaroos,’ he said pointedly to his brother.

      ‘They’ll be fine.’ Brett waved a dismissive hand. ‘It’s more important for me to be here to welcome the new housekeeper.’

      ‘Oh?’ said Copper, not sorry to divert Mal’s attention in spite of her bravado. ‘Are you expecting someone else today?’

      There was a short silence. Mal and Brett both looked at her. ‘Just you,’ said Mal, but there was an ominous note in his voice.

      Copper glanced from one to the other, sensing that something was wrong. ‘When’s the new housekeeper coming, then?’

      ‘What new housekeeper?’ said Brett in surprise. ‘You’re the new housekeeper!’

      She goggled at him. ‘Me?’

      Mal’s brows had snapped together. ‘Do you mean to tell us that you’re not here to replace Kim?’

      ‘Of course not!’ said Copper indignantly. ‘Do I look like a housekeeper?’

      ‘Why do you think I was surprised to see you in a suit?’ he retorted with a trace of weariness, and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘The agency in Brisbane said they were sending a new girl out from there nearly a week ago, so I just assumed that’s who you were.’

      ‘Well, that explains why you thought I should have come on the bus, anyway,’ she said.

      ‘It doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, though, does it?’ There was a slight edge to Mal’s words and Copper found herself sitting up straighter.

      ‘I thought you’d had my father’s letter,’ she said, not very clearly.

      A hint of impatience was beginning to crack Mal’s imperturbable mask. ‘What letter?’

      ‘The letter he wrote you a couple of weeks ago, telling you that he’d had a heart attack and that I’d be coming up in his place.’ Copper looked at him expectantly, but Mal was obviously none the wiser and only holding onto his temper with difficulty. ‘Dan Copley? Copley Travel?’ she hurried on, hoping to jog his memory. He might not remember what had happened seven years ago, but surely he could manage a matter of weeks? ‘He was here two or three months ago. He came to talk to you about the possibility of using Birraminda as a site for the new tours we’re planning.’

      Recognition dawned at last in Mal’s eyes. ‘Oh, yes, I remember,’ he said. ‘But what’s that got to do with you turning up here?’

      ‘I’ve come to negotiate a deal with you, of course,’ said Copper, surprised.

      ‘Deal?’ Mal brought his hand down flat on the table and leant forward. ‘What deal?’ he asked. He didn’t raise his voice but something in his expression made her lean warily back into her chair. ‘I never agreed to any deal!’

      ‘I know.’ Copper stiffened her spine. She had dealt with worse people than Mal Standish. ‘But you did agree to let Dad come back when he had a viable financial plan. You said you’d be prepared to discuss terms if he could convince you then that the project would work.’

      Rather to her relief, he sat back and the dangerous look faded from his face. ‘I might have said that,’ he admitted. ‘But I can’t say I ever thought he would put a plan together. The whole idea seemed mad to me!’

      ‘It’s not a mad idea,’ said Copper coldly. ‘It’s an extremely good idea. Lots of people would like to experience the outback in style. They don’t want to sit on buses or stay in hotels, but they don’t necessarily want to crawl around in a tiny tent either. We’re going to offer permanent safari tents with camp beds and a bathroom, as well as fine cooking and specialist leaders for the different groups—expert artists, ornithologists, people like that,’ she finished, with an airy wave of the hand.

      ‘It sounds good to me,’ enthused Brett. ‘Especially if they’re prepared to pay pots of money for the privilege of getting squawked at by treefuls of cockatoos!’

      ‘Well, money is certainly something we’d have to discuss,’ said Copper carefully.

      ‘Right now we’re not going to discuss anything,’ said Mal with an air of flat finality. ‘I’m sorry that your father’s been ill, but, frankly, you couldn’t have picked

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