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 plain in the uncrushable teal linen pants and matching sleeveless vest she’d insisted on changing into at camp before letting Blake deliver her to the homestead. Although her assignment hadn’t allowed for socializing, she had brought this suit for traveling and felt it fitted the occasion better than jeans and a T-shirt, although there was a scattering of both among the party guests.
“It’s a lovely night,” she agreed. “Thank you for letting me share your engagement party, Shara.”
Jo felt odd calling the princess by her first name, but Shara had insisted when they first met, saying she’d had enough of titles in her own country to last a lifetime. “My pleasure,” Shara said. “Are you recovered from your close call with the crocodile this morning?”
Jo suppressed a shiver. “It was terrifying, especially for Nigel, but thank goodness he wasn’t hurt.
“I’m relieved to hear it, although I understand he decided to return home as a result.”
Jo nodded. “I can’t say I blame him, can you?”
Shara smiled. “Perhaps not. I’m relieved that the crocodile didn’t drive you away, as well.”
Tom came up carrying a tray of drinks. The waves of love carried on the look he and Shara exchanged pierced Jo with unaccustomed longing. What must it feel like to know you were so totally loved?
Shara retrieved a glass of
