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‘Are you going to help me or not?’

He arched a brow.

‘I just need to use your phone,’ she said, her disdain for him obvious in the tone of her voice. And with little wonder. No one liked being made to feel stupid, and he’d done that. With zero regrets. At least she’d learn a lesson out of this.

‘To do what?’

‘Call for help.’

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. He was now as wet through as her, and his mood was tanking by the minute, but her simplistic idea of life out here genuinely amused him.

‘What?’ she demanded with an admirable degree of hauteur.

‘No one’s coming to help in this.’ He gestured to the weather. ‘No one can get in. The roads’ll all be flooded for days.’

She looked aghast. ‘But…my car…’

‘You’ll be lucky if it’s not washed away. Hell, you’ll be lucky if we’re not, as well.’

Her lips parted in obvious surprise, and she looked around, as if seeing things for the first time. In the few minutes they’d been talking, the water level had risen appreciably. Thunder rumbled and, a moment later, lightning split the sky, just to their right, forking far and wide.

She startled visibly, spinning back to face him. ‘I didn’t—it was so hot this morning. I didn’t think to check the forecast.’

He bit back the acerbic rejoinder. There was no point making her feel worse. She couldn’t help the fact that he’d been thinking of his father all day—a subject that was guaranteed to put him in a godawful mood. But the coming storm had been news for almost a week—the breaking of the drought, and the resulting flood event, had given residents time to prepare. English tourists were apparently exempt.

‘Get in the car,’ he said, turning on his heel and stalking back to his vehicle, her acquiescence a foregone conclusion. But when he reached the driver’s door, he realised she was still standing there, rain pelting down over her body. She wore a long, floaty dress and sandals that would no doubt squelch with every step. A small leather handbag was across her body, probably with the flat-battery phone tucked inside.

‘I—are you sure you’re not an axe murderer?’ she shouted, to be heard over the rain.

He didn’t let his smile show. ‘Will it prove anything if I say no?’

She mulled that over.

‘Either I am, and you’re dead. Or you stay here, and you’re dead.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You think this is funny?’

He arched a brow. ‘Do I look amused?’

She stayed where she was, and frustration burst through him. ‘Look, I take a dim view of Instagram tourists coming out here on a whim, to get the perfect reel, without having any respect for this land and what it’s capable of. It’s no skin off my nose if you want to stay put and see what happens. But I, for one, am getting the hell out of here while I still can. You coming?’

He moved into the driver’s seat to prove he meant what he said—though he knew he wouldn’t strand some tourist in the middle of a flash flood. For one thing, the media scrutiny was the last thing he wanted. For another, he had no interest in this woman’s death landing on his conscience.

She looked around, as if to see if someone else might come along, as an alternative, then realising how unlikely it was. Tate suspected he was the first person she’d seen in four hours. This was Carrigan land, as far as the eye could see. This road was public, but it cut through the middle of their station. Other than his ringers—who’d have all had the sense to get safe and dry by now—no one was likely to be driving through here. He was the last man out mustering the cows, getting them safe.

To his relief, she started to run towards the car. Good. He hadn’t liked the idea of picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, but he would have done it, to save her life.

‘Good choice,’ he said as she slid in beside him, knowing he shouldn’t be noticing things like how toned her legs were beneath the fabric of her dress, or the way she smelled like crushed jasmine.

‘Don’t make me regret it,’ she said, reaching for her seat belt and jamming it into the clip.

A sneer curved his lips as he started the engine, driving towards the now-flooded low part of the road. She leaned forward, as if only just realising they were surrounded by rising water.

‘Is it safe?’

‘Now you think about safety?’

‘Are you going to answer every question of mine with a rude insult?’