Chauffeuring a chattering, messy, albeit talented attractive female musician round rural Australia is not photographer Jack's idea of a good time. Violinist Hannah will put up with Jack's grouchiness if it means riding in his car instead of the sickness inducing concert tour bus but every conversation confirms their differences. Hannah wants a man who wants a family. Jack likes his women with no strings attached. Knowing his 'love em and leave em' reputation Hannah is determined not to succumb but when he suddenly kisses her her resolve falters.     

  

Their relationship, however, deteriorates rapidly as ever more areas of disagreement emerge. An added irritation on both sides is undeniable and debilitating physical attraction. How will they survive a night in the car stranded by flood waters on an isolated country road? And once back in  Sydney is there any future for the fledgling love both have begun reluctantly, to experience?      

Hannah stood on the nature strip, wiggling her hips to straighten her skirt, smoothing it down with both hands. She swung her handbag over her shoulder. Jack came to stand by her side looking at the redbrick house for a moment. It had a neat garden with two birch trees by the front gate just beginning to show fresh, green, spring leaves.

       "Mmm, I smell sausages cooking. Hope Libby saved one for me." Hannah turned to Jack with a smile. His face was stern with a slight frown. He continued to gaze at the house, but didn't move.

       "Jack? Come on." Hannah moved in front of him and peered up into his face to get his attention. Now what? Had he gone deaf all of a sudden? He was acting very strangely. Quite unlike the  man she'd travelled with thus far. In fact since that phone call she'd interrupted he'd been particularly odd. "Jack? What's . . ."

       "Don't you ever shut up?" He stared down into her eyes for a moment, just long enough for her to draw a quick, startled breath. Then he put his hand to her cheek, slipped his fingers behind her neck, drew her to him and clamped his lips firmly on hers.

       An electric shock raced through Hannah's body. Nerve endings tingled which had lain  dormant for months, responses activated which she had forgotten existed, feelings were aroused she didn't know she had. His mouth was delicious, his hand on her skin sent shivers of delight rippling down her spine.

       Her hands flapped ineffectively against his arms for support as her knees turned to spaghetti. His other arm clasped her round the waist, solidly holding her body against the flat angular planes of his. Surprisingly comfortable, a still functioning part of her stunned brain managed to register. Surprisingly . . .  

       Then the rest of her brain fired into action.

       This was Jack the rotter! She'd only just met him and they'd done nothing but argue. What was his game? Seduction, after all? She'd been forewarned, thought she was forearmed but he'd slipped through her guard as easily as could be. He must be gloating . . .

       She pulled away, hot and confused. Embarrassed. He let his hand slide slowly from her neck and his fingers left a burning trail on her skin. So easily, he did it so easily. He laughed a soft little laugh, holding her eyes with his then turned and walked towards the house. He stopped, looked back.

       "Hannah? Come on," he said, mimicking her.