A Parisian Proposition. Barbara Hannay

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      CHAPTER THREE

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

      ‘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.’