Page 6 of Cinderella and the Outback Billionaire

‘I’m thinking you do.’

Maybe that was true. ‘How come you’re here?’ This was nowhere land. People didn’t live here. People didn’t travel through here. ‘Are you real?’

‘I’m trespassing. Trespassing, unmarried, and not pretty in any standard sense of the word. My eyes are too far apart, my neck is too long, my nose has a bump in it from when I broke it as a kid and I’m skinny. I’m not that clever and most times I come across as too shy to bother with. But I am real.’

‘Good. That sounds good.’

She laughed and it was the loveliest sound in the world. ‘See? You’re almost making sense—that’s a good sign. You’re following the conversation, your pulse is strong, your breathing’s not rattly. I’m no medic but those are good signs. You’re a tough guy.’

‘That’s me.’ A great wave began to wash over him from the toes up, thick, visceral and dragging him under. Again.

‘Reid? Reid!’

He couldn’t hold on.

Not even to her hand.

Ari unzipped the tent flap and squirmed through the exit before zipping it back up from the outside. Concern for the wounded man had overridden her desire to stay inside the tent. She’d already lost her scarf to him when she’d wound it around his head to try and stop the bleeding, but she could lift her T-shirt up and put it across her nose and mouth so she didn’t cop a lungful of dust, and she had a first-aid kit in the ute, and a pack of painkillers in the glove box, and enough water to see them through for days.

Please let his rescue not take days.

The man was a billionaire last she’d heard. Surely, he’d have tracking devices all over that little helicopter or amongst his personal belongings.

They’d know where he was and soon as the dust cleared they’d come for him.

The dust was still so thick! He wasn’t the only one whose eyes weren’t working properly.

Pulling the T-shirt all the way up over her head, she took hold of the rope with both hands and pulled it taut and began to walk. She kept the rope tense and shuffled along and made it to her ute an eon later.

But her trusty old ride was right where she’d left it, even if it was now buried up to its axels.

She tried to shake the dust off before she got into the cabin, a stupid move if ever there was one, and finally settled for clambering in regardless and slamming the door shut behind her.

Better, much better as she brushed the dust from her face and tentatively opened her eyes, blinking hard. Grit everywhere. Up her nose. In her mouth.

Don’t rub your eyes, Ari.

When instinct demanded she do just that. Don’t move for a bit. Just...let the dust settle. She leaned back with her head against the headrest and slowly wiped at her face with the edge of the hand towel she kept just behind the front seat. It felt blissfully free of grit and she reached for the water bottle in the centre console next and unscrewed the cap with her eyes still closed and brought the bottle to her lips. Not cold, but very definitely wet.

She wet the edge of the towel and gently dripped some into her eyes until she could open them without feeling as if her eyelids were scouring pads. See? Easy as pie getting from the downed man back to her vehicle. She could do this all day.

Although it’d be nice to only have to do it once.

No phone service out here but she checked the phone’s remaining battery and then set about filling her backpack and another carryall with supplies. If she was quick enough, she might be able to retrace her footsteps before the wind blew them away. She shoved her native plant identification book in the pack too—as a reminder of a wider world full of research and technology and all sorts of clever people. People who would come for the unconscious billionaire and make him well.

Until then, he had Ari, queen of nothing special, and she’d do her best to make him comfortable.

The trek back took longer because she lost track of her footsteps and the wind blew up again and so did the dust, and this time she couldn’t keep her eyes closed and rely on the rope to take her where she was going. By the time she found the tent she’d begun making bargains with whoever might be listening.

If you show me the tent, I’ll stop swearing for a year.

If you stop with the dust, I’ll study my heart out and top my horticulture course in every subject. Yes, even soil physics.

If he lives, I’ll be grateful for ever that I don’t have him on my conscience for the rest of my days. That’s got to be worth a pledge to abstain from sex for at least a—

Oh! The tent. Hooray!

Right in the nick of time.

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