Page 20 of Cinderella and the Outback Billionaire

‘Blake Holdings—that’s a company me and my brother formed—it provides research grants and accommodation for people who want to study habitat and wildlife out here. Landscape ecology and the like. That includes plants.’

‘Yeah, for people with fancy degrees and doctorates,’ she said, not meeting his gaze. ‘I don’t even have a tech diploma.’

‘Yet,’ he said quietly, and her pretty mouth firmed, and she nodded, even if she still wouldn’t look at him.

‘Yet,’ she echoed.

He knew that voice. It kept him company in his dreams. ‘You got the Cairns job, didn’t you? Put down what you told them.’

‘It’s a junior nursery hand position.’

‘Don’t you want to jump in the deep end?’ She hesitated and with that he moved closer to where he could see better. ‘I couldn’t see your eyes properly from over there.’ They stood about a metre apart. Close enough for him to see her ridiculously long eyelashes and every emotion flitting across her expressive eyes. ‘Is this too close? Tell me if it is.’ It wasn’t for him. They’d been closer in the tent, and not just in a physical sense. He wanted that again.

‘No.’ But she folded her arms across her chest, and he didn’t need to be a body language expert to know that she was putting up barriers against him. He wanted to touch her so badly—one touch and he’d know for sure...

Instead, he kept his hands to himself, took a careful step back, and returned to his sales pitch. ‘The way I see it, going into business for yourself requires three things.

‘One: a bone-deep belief that you can do it.’

She lifted her chin and finally met his gaze. Had she really described herself as plain? Because between those eyes, that generous mouth, and her perfectly proportioned form she was anything but.

Was he really shallow enough to be pleased that the woman from the tent was brave, resourceful, within his grasp and beautiful in a way that was wholly unique and exactly to his taste?

Yes—yes, he was.

‘Two,’ he continued firmly, and shoved his shallowness aside, ‘you need courage in the face of adversity and the ability to improvise. Anything happen to you lately to demonstrate that? Anything you want to mention? Anything at all?’ That’s right, Ari Cohen, I know what you’re made of. I was there when you were tested.

‘Is this a job interview?’

‘And three,’ he continued his pitch. ‘It helps to have deep pockets.’

‘Tapping out.’ She huffed a laugh. ‘Thanks for the tips. I’ll keep them in mind.’

‘If you don’t have start-up money there are angel investors who—if you present a strong enough case—will invest in you and your business dreams.’ Surely she could see what he was offering? ‘You could ask me to back you.’

‘No.’ Her hands stilled on the cutlery. ‘I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I don’t know enough yet. I need to work with good growers and plant breeders and that’s what I’m going to do. Then maybe I’ll get to that bone-deep certainty you mentioned. I don’t have it yet.’

‘You know where to find me when you do. And if there’s anything you want to talk with me about this weekend, I’m free.’

‘I’m on the clock.’

He wanted to break the clock.

Was she the woman from the tent? She fitted every memory he had of the event.

He’d made no secret of the fact that someone had tended to him and then gone for help before the helicopters arrived. He’d put out a nationwide call for them to come forward and be rewarded.

Why hadn’t she come forward?

‘That’s very generous of you, Reid.’ It wasn’t Ari who spoke. It was Gert.

Ari nodded but said nothing.

He made his way to the door, grateful he no longer had to use a cane for walking and that he could see far enough these days to avoid walking into walls. A man had his pride, even in the face of rejection. Especially in the face of rejection.

Why hadn’t she come when he called?

‘What was that?’

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