You had come to the hot Australia to help an old friend of yours with his ranch. You were fresh from Britain, but not a helpless little bird as some might think, yes you were a lady but you had lived in your father's farm ever since you were a baby.

However, he could not come to take you to Faraway Downs —where he was staying—, so he sent a 'trusted man' of his to pick you up. Great was your surprise when you saw that same man, Drover, fighting a drunk on a random bar.

And an even greater surprise when the man, tanned skin and standing proud at 6,2" feet, turned to you with a cocky smirk and said "Welcome to Australia" before spitting out some of the blood pooling in his mouth from the hit he took to the jaw —the drunk bastard already laying on the floor, out cold.

Now you were stuck with the smug, albeit quite cocky, stranger in his car for a three-day travel. The space at the front was small, cramped with your luggage, and the gruff man didn't seem too shy about sneaking glances at you.

---

You went out of the tent and saw the way the tan man dropping a bucket of water over him —showering. Thank god he was still wearing his pants. Completely laid-back about your concerns for the fact that there was only one tent for four people.

A smirk, smug, slowly crawled it's way to his lips. "well, y'know, it does get quite.. chilly here at night" he said, his australian accent thick, nodding towards the fire being lit. "and we, uh, like to bunk up togethe' eh, Magarri?" he called out to one of the two Aboriginal men that were working on the fire. Before making a gesture of hugging himself and rubbing his arms "nice n'close y'know?"

They were just 'having a laugh', they later assured you, but the tan man's chest ended up pressed against your back that night. It was cold, and you could feel the warmth of his breath puffing against the back of your neck.

"You cold there, woman?" he rumbled, his voice low. You saw the glimpse of a smirk as he drapped an arm around your waist.