A Parisian Proposition

Or kissed her senseless.

He stopped pacing. Was that his problem? Would he have cared two hoots what Camille thought if he hadn’t found her so damned attractive? Was he angry because of what she said, or because of the way she looked?

Because he’d wanted her and couldn’t have her?

Damn. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dark hair and dark eyes. She had the intriguing allure of a beautiful stranger. Someone from another world. So exotic…

So what?

She was on her way back to Sydney. She was heading back to the city, full of her smug assumptions, and he’d missed his opportunity to set her straight, to let her know in no uncertain terms just how misinformed she was about a cattleman’s life.

Camille rounded a mud-splattered four-wheel-drive vehicle and came to a halt as she saw Jonno pacing just a few metres away. He’d turned up the collar of his coat as protection from the wind and his dark hair was ruffled. Her heart thudded painfully as he looked up, saw her and stared fiercely.

His face was so dark and intimidating that she almost mumbled a quick hi-and-goodbye and hurried away, but Edith’s commands were still ringing in her ears.

Sidestepping a puddle, she walked towards him. ‘I was hoping I’d find you.’

He continued to scowl. ‘Why? I thought you were leaving.’

‘I’ve realised that I should make the most of my trip and do a story about outback life while I’m out here.’

His upper lip curled. ‘And how are you going to do that? By describing the view from your motel window?’

‘Of course not. I want to do an in-depth feature about the real outback.’

Jonno muttered what sounded like a curse and plunged his hands deep in his pockets. ‘You’d be the last person to write about anything that resembles real life in the bush.’

‘And what would you know? I’m a damn good journalist.’

‘Don’t kid yourself, Ms Devereaux. You turn up here. You stumble around a sale yard all starry-eyed and woolly-headed—and accidentally buy a pen of steers. Then you lump your mistakes on me and have the effrontery to talk about cattle-raising as easy money.’

Ah, she thought. I’ve dented that gigantic ego of his. ‘I’m sorry. That was a thoughtless comment.’

He seemed surprised by her apology. For a moment his unsmiling eyes rested on her and they seemed to focus directly on her mouth. Her heart nearly stopped. Then he pulled his gaze upwards and looked her squarely in the eye. ‘From what I’ve seen of your fancy magazine, you prefer fluff and nonsense. I don’t recall an ounce of realism.’

Her chin lifted. ‘Then give me realism.’

‘In what form?’

‘Give me a story, Jonno. Show me what your life is really like.’

He glowered at her. ‘I don’t want to be featured in any story you write.’

‘I’ve promised I won’t do a story about you as an eligible bachelor, but let me write one about your life out here. If you like I can emphasise how un-romantic the bush is for women.’

Holding up her hands as if to stop his flow of protests, she said, ‘You won’t be mentioned. I’ll keep it anonymous—a general story about real life on a cattle property, a picture of what’s expected of a woman or a wife in the bush from a city girl’s point of view.’

‘Which means a patronising, naive point of view.’

She gasped, stung by his words. How could someone so gorgeous be such an arrogant, chauvinist pig? ‘OK, you win! Forget I ever asked! I’ll find someone who doesn’t have a huge grudge against the world beyond his doorstep!’

Swinging away from him, she stormed across the car park.

‘Camille!’

A hard hand gripped her elbow, but she jerked her arm free and hurried on.

‘Camille, wait, damn it!’

The grip was stronger this time and she was forced to stop and turn around.

‘What do you want?’

To her surprise, Jonno was looking just a little shamefaced. ‘I guess you weren’t to know I was conned into that bachelor business, so I do owe you some kind of a story.’

‘Don’t trouble yourself. I can find any number of friendly, co-operative people. You seem to be the only person out here lacking in the famous bush hospitality we hear so much about.’

‘Listen! If you want to do a story about a cattle property, you’d better come out to Edenvale.’

‘To your place?’ She knew her mouth was hanging open as his suggestion sank in.

‘Yeah.’

‘You mean you’re actually inviting me through that locked gate to the inner sanctum?’

The shadow of a smile lightened his features, but then it was gone again as if whipped away by the wind.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked. It seemed impossible that the intransigent Jonno should make such an about-face.

He shrugged. ‘If you’re my business partner, you should take an interest in the well-being of your livestock.’

She’d never thought of that angle. ‘I guess I should.’

‘You can see how the steers you’ve bought settle in.’

‘Great.’

‘They’ve just been weaned. They were still with their mothers yesterday, so they’ll be highly stressed and they’ll need gentle handling when they arrive.’

‘Really? The poor babies.’ Cocking her head to one side, she hid her surprise behind a teasing smile. ‘I hadn’t realised you were such a Sensitive New Age Cowperson, Jonno.’

His jaw stiffened, but apart from that he ignored her dig and asked smoothly, ‘Are you interested in my offer?’

‘Yes, yes, of course I am.’ She could write about her cattle. Already she could see her story taking shape. ‘From City Girl to Cattle Queen in 5 Easy Steps.’ Resisting the temptation to smile coyly, she kept her face deadpan as she added, ‘I’d be fascinated to learn more about your techniques for gentle handling.’

CHAPTER THREE

JONNO’S brother, Gabe, rang about an hour after he arrived home with Camille.