A Parisian Proposition

‘I thought I’d better warn you there’s a journalist from that Sydney magazine snooping around town. She was in our office this morning looking for you.’

‘Yeah. I know about her.’

‘Did you know she tried to get me to chopper her into Edenvale?’

‘Look, thanks for the warning, big brother, but actually you’re too late. She’s already found me.’

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. ‘I hope you weren’t too tough on her.’

Jonno cleared his throat. ‘Course I wasn’t. We—uh—worked things out—uh—more or less amicably.’

‘Glad to hear you behaved yourself,’ Gabe said. ‘You’ve been so uptight about this magazine caper I had visions of a full-on brawl. It’s a relief to hear she’s still in one piece.’

Jonno winced. What would Gabe think if he knew that not only was Camille Devereaux in one piece, she was relaxing in a deep cane lounger on his back veranda, watching the sunset while Megs, his ginger tabby, purred on her lap and Saxon, his golden Labrador, sprawled across her feet?

He’d been crazy to bring her back here, but he blamed his upbringing. His mother had instilled in both himself and Gabe an innate sense of courtesy.

Only a shabby barbarian could have continued with the sustained rudeness he’d extended towards this woman. He’d never behaved that way before and he’d felt compelled to compensate.

But too late he was realising what a big mistake he’d made by inviting her to Edenvale.

‘It’s a pity you couldn’t have met that girl under more pleasant circumstances,’ Gabe commented. ‘Even a safely married man like me noticed that she’s rather easy on the eye.’

‘You reckon?’ Jonno muttered, and felt his face heat. Not noticing how attractive Camille was had become the major challenge of the day.

He should have followed his initial instincts and refused to have anything to do with her. But he’d made mistake after flaming mistake.

And now she was home with him and had exchanged her tailored city suit for an old pair of jeans and a crimson, super-soft woollen sweater that outlined all too clearly the shapeliness of her breasts, and not looking at her had zoomed to an even higher level of difficulty.

‘By the way,’ Gabe said, ‘Jim Young, the truckie, asked me to pass on a message. He says he’s been held up at Piebald Downs and he won’t get those steers through to you till later this evening.’

‘OK. Thanks.’

‘I didn’t realise you were buying today,’ Gabe commented. ‘I thought you were selling. The prices weren’t too good for buyers this week.’

‘Yeah, well—slight change of plan.’ Jonno sighed. It wasn’t worth trying to keep secrets from his brother. He and his wife, Piper, lived right next door on Windaroo Station and, knowing the way gossip spread in the bush, it wouldn’t be long before they found out about Camille’s purchase. ‘Camille bought one pen of steers.’

‘Who’s Camille?’

‘The journalist. It’s a long story, mate, but she bought them this morning and she’s putting them here on agistment.’

‘You’re joking?’

‘’Fraid not. And you might as well know, she’s staying here for a day or two.’

This was greeted by stunned silence from Gabe.

‘It’s part of a deal—a business deal we’ve struck,’ said Jonno.

‘That’s—that’s—fascinating.’

Jonno groaned. He knew Gabe was itching to ask a load of questions, so he rushed to explain. ‘There’s nothing fascinating about it, but she wants to write a piece for her magazine and I don’t want her to sail back to Sydney telling the world that all I have to do is stick her steers in a paddock and then put my feet up. I’m going to show her a thing or two about the realities of country life.’

‘Excellent.’ Gabe chuckled. ‘They’re fine, noble motives, mate.’

‘Motives? What do you mean?’

‘Oh, nothing.’ Gabe’s voice rippled with suppressed laughter. ‘After you’ve spent so long giving women the brush-off, I’m glad to hear your red blood’s flowing at last.’

‘Pull your head in, Gabe. I’m not planning to make a pass at her. In fact,’ he added, raising his voice for emphasis, ‘I’m planning to show her that there’s nothing romantic about life with a cattleman.’

Gabe chuckled again. ‘All I can say is, don’t let her near Piper. My wife might shoot your argument down in flames.’

Camille was talking to Megs the cat when Jonno prowled back through the house to the veranda. Her head was bent forward as she scratched the ginger tabby gently between the ears and her dark hair fell in a tumble of curls that caught fiery-red lights from the setting sun.

At the sound of his footsteps she looked up, her dark eyes shining, and he felt a startling jolt of desire.

Hell! Every time he saw her he was caught afresh by how unexpectedly lovely she was.

And his reactions weren’t his only problem. Camille was acting as if everything about his place was fascinating and fun. She was supposed to be looking for gritty realism. How the hell could he impress on her that life on the land was hard for a woman, that it wasn’t the slightest bit romantic, when she was determined to be delighted by everything?

From the minute they’d left her hire car at a garage in Mullinjim and she’d driven home with him in his truck, she’d carried on a treat about the countryside—the rolling pastures, the wide skies and the distant hills.

As for the wildlife, every kangaroo, emu, or plains turkey excited her.

‘Now that I’m not having to risk my neck in the driver’s seat, I can appreciate all this,’ she’d said in an attempt to justify her enthusiasm.

The problem was, her delight wasn’t over-the-top or insincere. It seemed to be genuine and spontaneous and that bothered Jonno, but he was hanged if he knew why.

Right now she was becoming best friends with his cat.

‘She’s gorgeous,’ she said, running an elegant hand along Megs’s spine. ‘I’ve never had a pet.’

‘Not even when you were a kid?’

‘No. And now we have pet-police running my apartment block and they won’t let me have anything, not even a goldfish.’

He resisted the urge to ask why she hadn’t had a pet as a child. Getting to know her life history wasn’t part of his game plan. She was here on business.

‘You’re comfortable there, so you stay where you are,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m going to get a yard ready for the steers.’ He headed for the steps.

‘Don’t go without me.’ She lifted the purring cat from her lap and leapt to her feet. ‘I want to experience as much as I can.’

Her face was glowing and he looked away and glared at the low blaze of sunlight on the horizon. He sighed. ‘Let’s go, then.’

Edenvale’s homestead and stock yards had been built on a rise and from here they had a view right down Mullinjim Valley. The grey clouds that had threatened more rain this morning were transformed now, under-lit by pink and gold from the setting sun, and the whole landscape was tinged with a bronzed glow.

At the bottom of the slope lay the billabong, home to various wild ducks and geese, and beyond that stretched long, rolling, grassy paddocks, pale yellow and dotted with clumps of trees and cattle. On the far horizon a low line of purple-pink hills sprawled.