The Australian Heiress Read Online Free PDF Page A

“It would do no good at all if the story got around.”
    “I’m not sure it would matter, Garner,” Nick Lombard rasped. “Your deplorable behavior is already well-known.”
    “Is it now?” Philip obviously decided to take offense.
    Camille heard what sounded like a woman’s high heels clicking down the hall. “There’s someone coming,” she said, her teeth clenched.
    Only Nick Lombard moved—with pantherlike grace. “My guess would be Miss Masterman coming in search of her…What word would best describe you, Garner?”
    Philip looked about wildly. “God, don’t let her in here!”
    “Charming!” Nick Lombard took Camille’s arm, drawing her to his side. “Act natural. We’ll get through it.”
    The doorknob turned and Robyn Masterman walked in, staring very aggressively at the tableau. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
    “That must be why you didn’t knock,” Camille said sweetly.
    “Actually I was looking for Philip.” Robyn spokein a tight reedy voice. She fixed Philip with a bayonet glance. “You’ve been gone a long time.”
    “My fault, I’m afraid,” Nick Lombard intervened smoothly. “Garner was kind enough to show me where the library was. I had a phone call, you see. I’m plagued with calls wherever I go.”
    Philip took to this explanation with enthusiasm. “And I’m only too pleased to be of help.” He gave his attractive lopsided smile. “We’ll be off now, however. Thank you for a delightful evening, Camille. Robyn and I hope the auction will be a great success.”
    “Quite! You’ll need it.” Robyn was still eyeing the three of them suspiciously. “Why don’t we see more of you, Mr. Lombard?”
    “I have a small daughter waiting for me when my long days are over,” he answered unsmilingly.
    “Of course. She must be five or six now?”
    “Six.” His air of reserve was almost a tangible thing.
    “Well, we won’t keep you.” Philip spoke as though Lombard and Camille were desperate to be alone together.
    “Interesting chap that!” Nick Lombard said after they’d gone.
    “But not a man of honor,” she returned. “It’s been a strange night altogether.”
    “And you’re exhausted.”
    “Well, I didn’t start on a high note.”
    She sounded calm, but everything about this man agitated her. His appearance, his manner, his easy assumption of authority. She looked past him, trying to concentrate on something. Anything. Her gaze fixed on the mahogany bookcases that lined the walls. Her father,no reader, had nevertheless amassed an important collection of books and manuscripts on a good number of subjects: literature, medicine, astronomy, philosophy, history and travel. There were hundreds of volumes, their splendid bindings enchanting the eye.
    “A magnificent collection,” he observed, recognizing her disengagement.
    “Yes.” Her voice was quiet. “It will be auctioned separately if you’re interested.”
    “Your father had a real genius for collecting things.”
    There was a nuance in his voice Camille found disturbing. “Why does that sound so odd? ”
    His black eyes swept over her. “Perhaps we can discuss it at another time.”
    “There won’t be another time, Mr. Lombard.” Camille felt herself stiffen. “We have nothing whatsoever in common.”
    “I think we have. Do you suppose my family didn’t suffer at your father’s hand?”
    His words stunned her. “How? Our families never came into contact. Yours is based in Melbourne. It’s only since you became chairman of Orion that you’ve shifted to Sydney.”
    He was silent, staring down at her. “You’re the image of your mother,” he said finally.
    The comment was so totally unexpected Camille visibly braced herself as if warding off a blow. “You’re not going to tell me you knew my mother, are you?” She eyed him in disbelief. “She’s been dead for twenty years. You would have been a boy.”
    He nodded. “Nevertheless I remember her quitevividly. She was an