A blush heated her cheeks and Blake caught his breath. If that wasn’t a look of unbridled need, he didn’t know what was. Del shook her head and her vision focused back on him. “Um…well, my manager booked me a bus tour, and here I am.”
“But you got off the tour, am I correct? Sue said something about another passenger.”
“Maybe that’s a conversation for another day, I think.” She looked over at Royce, who was hanging onto every word of the conversation.
“Royce, eat up buddy, before I hunt you to the bath. It's already late and you have chores to do in the morning. Those lambs are going to be hollering like you won't believe before the sun hits the sky.”
“You have baby lambs?” Del looked at him with interest shining in her eyes.
“Lambs are baby sheep.” Royce frowned.
“Sorry, my mistake. So you have lambs to look after, Royce?”
“Yeah, seven so far. Boy, are they noisy too. You can come and see them if you want to.”
He glanced at her hopefully, and a pang of sadness shoot through Blake. It seemed ages since the kids liked any of the nannies who came out to care for them. Just his luck they would like the one person who was only here for a short time, and not because she wanted to be.
“Del might be able to come down and give you a hand in the morning. Let her get settled in first and we can see, alright?”
“Yes, Dad.” Royce pushed his food around on his plate, his mouth tight. Blake nudged him to eat up and he complied, giving Delilah quick glances as he ate.
When they finished dinner, Blake took his son and watched over him while he bathed and got dressed for bed, and let Bluey give Del a hand to clear the dishes. When he had put Royce to bed and read the nightly story to him, he came out and found the two of them sitting around the table having what sounded like a friendly argument.
“This sounds serious. What seems to be the problem?” He sat down opposite Del and watched the amused twinkle in her eye and the smile on her lips as she debated with the older man. Her cheeks bore the fading flush of heat that indicated the passion she put into the discussion, which accounted for the raised voices he heard.
“Bluey is arguing my reasoning regarding my hero and his lifestyle. Same thing he started at dinner when I…um…you know, almost choked.” Her cheeks flushed again and Blake smiled.
“Don't know that I'd let a rusty old shearer get under your skin, Del. It's your soapie and your call, so go with your gut. He's just one viewer after all.” He pushed back a kitchen chair and lifted his foot to rest it, leaning back in his chair. “What do your other fans say?”
“Well, most women want to rip Brad Hollows’ shirt off and don't really care how much of a chauvinist he is.”
“What's he like in real life? Is he a nice bloke?”
“Actually, no. He can be very precious, if you know what I mean. I'm getting over him a bit. There are days I feel tempted to kill his character off, but I doubt the studio would like that.”
“Probably wouldn't do your ratings the world of good.” Blake crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders when they both looked at him. “No, I don't watch it, not much anyway, but from what I've seen, the guy needs a bullet. Surely the world doesn't think he is the typical Aussie male?”
“You would be surprised how many women would love a chance to fall into his arms.” She looked at Blake and grinned. “I once made the mistake of trying to fade him out and bring in another character. You should have seen the hate mail that came in. I had to do a big back flip and give him another chance but seriously, I've had enough of him. Probably one reason the studio is making me have a break—to let me get back to the basics and come up with something that will redeem him in my eyes.”
“Doesn't that sound rather threatening?”
Delilah looked at him with her head tilted to one side, a look of wonder on her face. “Hell yes, yes it does.”
“And your manager didn't think that was a problem?” She seemed so gullible and un-worldly for a woman who lived in Sydney and worked in the entertainment business.
“I guess not. Hmm, now you mention it, I really don't like their way of thinking at all.” She tapped a bright red nail on her bottom lip and Blake’s mouth dropped open.
“Who owns the rights to the story?” Blake ran his fingers on the edge of the table, watching her.
“Technically, they do. I own the idea and sell them the series for a season at a time. I can't take it anywhere else though. It’s in my contract. Not that I would want to. I'm getting a little bit over it, to tell you the truth. It all feels kind of jaded.” She frowned, her green eyes narrowing as she digested what she’d said.
“So why do it then? Why not kill them all off and do something else?” Bluey scratched the grey whiskers on his chin. “Surely someone with the imagination you have can come up with a new story.”
“Yes, well that sounds easier than it is. Look, can we talk about something else like what you expect of me, the kids routine, or some such thing?” Her lips were pressed into a white line and she folded her arms across her
