Page 45 of Cinderella and the Outback Billionaire

‘Would you like me to beg?’ she demanded, and now there was a thought he could get behind in full.

‘Yes.’ Satisfaction laced his voice at the wonder that was Ari Cohen in his bed. ‘I certainly would.’

Reid stayed on for five more sex-soaked days. He spent his spare time dictating extra parameters to the self-drive programming so that his ute didn’t drive off into a sand bank every five minutes. Ari spent her days working on a landscape plan, eventually abandoning her idea of presenting him with computer drawings in favour of explaining what she wanted to do with various areas as they walked through them—once in the morning, once at noon, and then again at night. He approved the plans with all his heart, rejected any suggestion of her doing the hard labour required, and together they put together a team of former stockmen, fencers, and tradesmen willing to spend two weeks on the job and get it done.

They butted heads on whether Ari should stay on or turn both lodges over to the team of workers.

Ari argued there was absolutely no reason for her to leave and every reason in the world to supervise. Reid claimed she should take Gert’s old room at his homestead and let the guys have their privacy, and sure it would mean a four-hour round trip every day but those were the breaks.

He knew he was being ridiculous as they fought about trust, and security, and stereotypes. He didn’t know how to swallow his concerns until Ari picked up the phone and called her former lab partner, Sarah, who might well be looking for a bit of work or know of someone who was. Half an hour later, Ari had two more female labourers in place and Sarah’s sister, who was a plumber with her own earthmoving equipment, had been signed up to the job too.

Reid tripled the labour costs on the contract Ari had prepared, signed it, and the arguing stopped, and the lovemaking resumed.

Reid was utterly, irrevocably putty in the hands of Ari Cohen.

If it hadn’t been for a raft of medical appointments with specialists far busier than him, he’d have stayed on.

Instead, he arranged for Ari to come to Brisbane at the end of the following week to view the copper birdbath she wanted to install, never mind that she’d already ordered it.

‘You just want to see me again,’ she teased, but he had absolutely no defence against her words.

It was nothing but the truth.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘HMM.’

Reid hated the hmms of eye specialist Fink with a vengeance.

It wasn’t that the man was a bad conversationalist; the doc could string long sets of words together when he wanted to. And given that Fink was the best eye specialist the country had to offer, Reid trusted that the man knew what he was talking about, even if Reid sometimes needed a dictionary.

Had Reid thought his eyesight was improving, those hmms during this latest examination would have registered as confirmation that all was coming along as expected. They might have been tolerable.

But Reid’s vision had not been improving, his headaches were becoming more frequent, and no amount of ‘positive thinking’ and ‘mindful recovery’ was going to wish those undeniable facts out of existence.

Reid kept his chin on the rest pad and stared at the bright light he’d been told to stare at as the slit lamp machine clicked and whirred and took pictures of the inside of his eyeballs.

‘Okay, we’re done.’

When the doctor rolled away, still in his chair, and turned towards a wall-mounted computer screen, Reid came to stand alongside him. Not that Reid had much chance of seeing what the older man saw unless he stood a whole lot closer, but if it helped Fink make his diagnosis and explain what was happening, Reid was all for staring at the screen right along with him.

‘I haven’t made any headway at all with my eyesight this month, have I?’ asked Reid as the doctor studied the screen and said nothing.

‘Correct.’

Not the best news he’d ever heard. ‘Why not?’

Fink turned to look at him. ‘Best guess? Your original head trauma and cranial nerve damage was too severe for you to ever fully recover. You’ve made remarkable strides, Mr Blake, but the body’s repair system has its limits. Your vision in your right eye is always going to be better than your left. The tunnel vision you now experience may not improve. Wear your eye patch again, doesn’t matter which eye, and see if your headaches subside. Wear wraparound sunglasses day and night and note whether that too helps with the headaches.’

‘I guess getting my driver’s licence back is out of the question?’ Initially, he’d believed he’d get there eventually but any last hope of that happening had been quietly fading.

‘Son, I know what you want to hear. And I know some fool mental-health expert likely dangled that possibility in front of your nose like a carrot, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and stake my professional reputation on the notion that no one with any sense is ever going to let you control a vehicle again.’

‘Noted.’

Hated.

‘Would you like a second opinion on that?’

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