Live To Tell. Valerie Parv
serious. “How’s Des?”
Blake steered the car onto the highway. “Not good. He’s moved up the waiting list for a transplant but the way things are at home, he’s not keen on having the operation even if a donor heart becomes available.”
Cade rested his forearms on the seat back between her and Blake. “Can’t say I blame him. He values his independence.”
A trait he’d passed on to his foster sons and natural daughter, she’d already noticed. She couldn’t imagine Blake willingly depending on anyone. “Is Max Horvath the reason Des doesn’t want to be away from Diamond Downs?”
Cade’s fingers drummed a tattoo on the seat back. “You’ve heard about him?”
She nodded and Blake said, “We think Max put Eddy Gilgai up to feeding a big croc to lure it closer to Jo’s camp. Earlier today, it attacked the man she was with.”
“Is he okay?”
“He wasn’t harmed, but he’s on his way back to Perth right now.”
A taut smile ghosted over Cade’s features. “Do you plan on following him?”
“I’m staying,” she said, her tone daring either man to argue. “My assignment is to report on what it’s like to survive in the outback, not to turn tail at the first sign of danger.”
“Brave lady,” Cade murmured, sounding impressed. “You must tell me more about this assignment. Maybe I can help.”
Blake’s irritation flared into full-blown jealousy. “I’ve agreed to show Jo the ropes. She doesn’t need two guides.”
Cade withdrew to the back seat, symbolically conceding the turf to his older brother. Amusement rang in his voice as he said, “I knew I should have caught an earlier flight.”
“I still have to clear the change with my editor,” Jo said, sensing the unspoken communication between the two men. Annoyed because she also sensed it concerned her, she sharpened her tone. “Blake may have too much experience to make the story work.”
“I don’t have anything like his experience,” Cade said coyly.
Blake’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “We’re talking about bush craft.”
“What did you think I meant?”
Enough was enough. “Will you two either cut it out, or let me in on the joke?”
“No,” both men said with one voice.
“I’m glad you agree on something.” She pulled out her cell phone and speed-dialed Karen’s number. The editor’s secretary put her straight through. As if dictating a story, Jo reported the day’s events and Nigel’s abrupt departure. She was aware of Blake and Cade silently absorbing her account.
The editor expressed horror at the near miss with the crocodile, but said nothing about Jo aborting the assignment.
When she reached the part about Blake offering to help out in Nigel’s place, Jo found herself crossing her fingers. Not that she wanted to work with the crocodile man. She just didn’t want to be pulled off a story that instinct told her had the potential to grow far beyond the original assignment.
“You’re sure it’s Blake Stirton you’ll be working with?” Karen asked.
Jo’s glance flickered to him. He controlled the car with easy movements, and his fingers had relaxed on the wheel, but his posture suggested a tension that made her curious. “Is there a problem?”
The vehicle swerved very slightly. Blake may have been dodging a rough patch in the road, rather than reacting to her words. She couldn’t tell. “Would you like to talk to him yourself?” she asked Karen on impulse.
“No. Don’t put him on.” As if realizing how strange she sounded, Karen moderated her tone. “I’ll take your word that you can work with him on this. The deal will be the same as we agreed with Nigel Wylie.”
“Great. I’ll tell him. Thanks.” Confusion had reduced Jo’s speech to monosyllables. The editor had reacted like a scalded cat at the prospect of speaking with Blake. What was going on here?
She flipped the phone shut and replaced it in her bag. “My boss is happy for you to help me complete the assignment.”
Blake looked doubtful. “She said that?”
“Not in so many words. But she didn’t pull the plug on the story.” She shimmied sideways as far as her seat belt allowed and addressed Blake. “Have you ever met Karen Prentiss?”
A frown furrowed his brow. “Not as far as I know. Why?”
“When I offered to let her talk to you, she reacted as if I’d arranged a personal introduction with the devil.”
“Maybe she’s the mother of one of your old flames, Blake. Your sinful reputation precedes you,” Cade suggested unhelpfully.
Jo caught her lower lip between her teeth, not enjoying the tightening in her stomach that went with picturing Blake and his old flames. “Karen doesn’t have children. After a few drinks at last year’s office Christmas party, she told me she and Ron couldn’t have any.”
Cade grinned. “Then she must be jealous of you teaming up with a world-famous crocodile expert.”
“World-famous in the Kimberley,” Blake said ruefully. “You probably caught her at an awkward time, that’s all.”
She let a sigh escape, wondering why the idea of working with Blake held so much appeal. “You could be right.” But the puzzle nagged at her all the way back to Diamond Downs. Karen wasn’t usually the hysterical type. Something about Blake’s involvement in the project had shocked her even more than hearing about the crocodile attack. Jo wished she knew the reason.
Chapter 3
Half the people in the region had to be at the engagement party, Jo decided, surveying the rows of trestle tables groaning with food, much of it contributed by the guests themselves in the best outback tradition. Festooned around the homestead, ribbons of fairy lights competed with the impossibly starry night. Until coming to the Kimberley, she’d never known so many stars could be visible from Earth. They spilled across the inky blackness like countless diamonds on a jeweler’s cloth, seeming close enough to touch.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” came a softly accented voice.
Lost in wonder, she hadn’t heard the other woman approach. She immediately recognized Tom McCullough’s fiancée, Princess Shara Najran. On arriving at Diamond Downs, Jo had met Tom and his royal bride-to-be who were not long back from visiting her father, King Awad of Q’aresh to obtain his blessing on their marriage.
Any family would be lucky to have Tom in their midst, Jo had decided. He was as easygoing and charming as he was good-looking. In contrast to Blake’s intensity, she thought, her gaze automatically seeking him out and finding him a little apart from the crowd, leaning against the veranda railing. Nobody would call him easygoing. From the little she knew of him already, he expected a lot from people, but even more from himself. Charming didn’t fit, either. Her writer’s mind sought out a more appropriate word, finally coming up with compelling. He was the kind of man she instinctively knew would complicate her life, but who nevertheless attracted her like iron filings to a magnet.
When their eyes met, she recoiled, as if she’d been punched. The feeling was so blatantly sexual that her breath stalled in her throat and she had a hard time wrenching her attention back to the princess.
Shara’s generous smile emphasized her pearly teeth and lovely café au lait skin. She was dressed in what looked like a traditional Eastern costume of cream silk trousers, caught at the ankles by gold embroidery, and a billowing blouse cinched at the waist by a gold circlet, with more embroidery at the wrists.
Beside her, Jo felt positively