knew her mouth was gaping. ‘You and me?’ she gasped.
‘Yeah.’
‘But we can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘It—it’s not necessary. Being a godparent is simply a gesture of intent.’
Resting his hands on the counter top, Max leaned forward. ‘You can’t have it both ways, Gemma. Either being Mollie’s godmother is a good reason for you to take care of her, or it isn’t.’
She knew she was losing ground fast. Apparently Max had been honing his skills as a bush lawyer. She ran frantic fingers through her short, dark hair. ‘But it doesn’t mean we’re obliged to—For crying out loud, Max, that doesn’t mean we have to actually do anything parental together.’
Max’s eyes teased her. ‘It’s the only sensible solution. You and Mollie should come and stay on Goodbye Creek Station until Isobel returns. That way we can share the load. It’s called co-operation.’
Her stomach lurched as if she were coming down in a very fast elevator. ‘Co-operation, my foot!’ she said at last. ‘How much co-operation are you planning to contribute? I’m the one who’ll have to make all the sacrifices. Why should I give up everything here to head off into the bush and stay with you?’
‘Because, as I’ve already explained,’ Max said, with exaggerated patience, ‘we need to share this responsibility. That way we can both get on with our work commitments.’ He pointed to the pamphlets and papers on her sofa. ‘I imagine it will be much easier for you to bring your stuff to Goodbye Creek and to carry on your business from there, than for me to bring thousands of head of cattle down to this, er—cosy little suburban flat.’
He was so smug and sure of himself, Gemma wanted to thump him. She was beginning to feel cornered. ‘It won’t work.’
‘I think it’s a compromise that has distinct possibilities.’
If only she could tell him she was far too busy—booked up to organise half a dozen events—but even if she did tell such a lie, she was sure he would find a way to use it against her. Instead she glared at him. ‘We’ll spend the whole time fighting!’
He pretended to be shocked by her words. ‘Why on earth should we do that?’
Gemma groaned. ‘Maxwell T. Jardine, I don’t believe I’m hearing this. We would fight, for the simple reason that we have never agreed about anything. Haven’t you noticed the only thing we have in common is that we both breathe oxygen? We can’t stand each other!’
Just to prove how utterly detestable he was, Max burst out laughing.
Gemma gave in to her anger. She smashed her fist onto the counter. ‘What’s so funny?’ she yelled.
‘Oh, Gemma,’ he chuckled. ‘You certainly are all grown up now, aren’t you?’
Choking, she gasped and spluttered. Trust Max to point out that she wasn’t nearly as sophisticated and worldly wise as she liked to think she was. She had a sneaking suspicion that she might never become mature and discerning. It was her long-term ambition to become cool and detached—especially when this man was around doing his best to flummox her.
For a brief moment, Max’s expression softened. Then he stepped around the counter and towards her. Gemma wished he wouldn’t. When he rested his strong, warm hands on both her shoulders, her nerves were way too strained to cope.
‘Gemma Elizabeth Brown,’ he said, his voice low and gravelly.
Her eyes widened at his use of her middle name. She hadn’t even realised he knew it.
‘We agree on the most important thing.’
She could feel the heat of his hands as they held her. Her lungs appeared to be malfunctioning, but Max didn’t notice, he just kept on talking.
‘We agree that Mollie deserves very good care and, on this occasion, I think most definitely, we do have to do something together.’ His eyes flashed as he added, ‘Something parental. You’re right, we’ll probably fight like cats and dogs, but we’ll manage somehow—for Mollie’s sake. On our own, we’d both have major difficulties looking after the poor little kid properly, wouldn’t we?’
She allowed her gaze to meet those deep blue eyes, those disturbing blue eyes, and Gemma felt less sure of her line of argument.
‘Together, we stand a fair chance of success—both for Mollie and our work.’
What he proposed was unthinkable! She couldn’t let this happen. How on earth could she live with Max while he inspected her babysitting skills? She’d be a dithering mess. Holy smoke, he’d be checking up on her every minute of the day and he would soon discover she knew absolutely zero about babies.
Gemma felt as if she’d stepped aside and become a spectator of this discussion. Incredibly, she realised she was nodding, accepting Max’s terms.
If only she could remember exactly when Max had turned their battle to his advantage, but she had loosened her grip on this whole scene. She’d lost sight of her counter-argument.
‘I’ll do my fair share,’ Max added. ‘I’ll give Mollie her tucker or bathe her, or whatever’s necessary. We can work out some sort of roster if you like.’
She passed a dazed hand across her eyes. Never in her wildest dreams had she pictured this rough-riding cattleman in a hands-on relationship with a baby. She tried to visualise him attending to Mollie, but her musings were interrupted by the telephone.
‘Oh, heavens! That’s probably the printers.’ Gemma had almost forgotten her current project and her deadline this afternoon. ‘I have to get some pamphlet designs to them before five o’clock.’ She glared fiercely at Max as she hurried to the phone.
‘Hello, Gemma Brown speaking.’
A woman’s voice reached her. ‘Gemma, Sue Easton from Over the Page. I was wondering…’
The printers were chasing her copy. Gemma reassured the woman that everything was ready and she would be at their office shortly. As she spoke, she heard Mollie begin to cry behind her and she was acutely aware of Max moving quietly in the flat.
Mollie’s wails ceased abruptly and by the time Gemma put the receiver down and turned to face Max again, she was startled to find him perched on the arm of her sofa and jogging the delighted baby on his knee.
He looked very pleased with himself. ‘See? You can’t manage without me, can you? I’ll mind this little possum while you do whatever running around you need to this afternoon.’
‘Thanks,’ she replied uncertainly.
‘And after that,’ he said with confident assurance, ‘we can plan your move to Goodbye Creek. I’ll book into a pub tonight and we can head off first thing in the morning.’
As he continued to favour both Gemma and Mollie with a look of smug satisfaction, the baby’s face turned red and Gemma noticed that she seemed to be concentrating very hard.
‘Oh-oh.’ Max’s confident grin slipped.
