Authors: Jane Corrie
At that moment the telephone on the desk rang, and Sean frowned at the instrument that dared to interrupt his enjoyment of watching the different emotions that ran the whole gamut from disbelief to resigned weariness on Sarah's face. His abrupt 'Yes,' as he picked the phone up said it all. 'Well, send someone out there,' he barked out authoritatively, 'and then get on to the coach firm and give them a rocket. We've got more to
do than pander to their incompetence!' He slammed the phone down and transferred his annoyance to Sarah. 'That will be one of your jobs now,' he said tersely. 'You're the official press secretary for the site from now on. You'll also deal with any other enquiry that comes in—apart, that is, from the actual work on the site; that's my province, and you'd be wise to remember that. No snooping around—got that?' he added harshly.
Sarah took a deep breath. She couldn't see a great deal of work coming her way under those stipulations, but it was better than nothing. At least she would be in contact with the outside world. As for the other position he had landed her in—well, she didn't want to go too deeply into that.
Her silence was taken as acceptance, and if he was disappointed by her non-reaction, he did not show it as he jerked his desk drawer open and all but threw a notebook at Sarah. 'You can make a note to charge time and a half to Sunset Tours for the use of a site tractor. A damn fool driver's got stuck in a rut a mile away from camp. They know full well they have to take it easy along that route, but they're always trying to beat time.'
Sarah duly made a note in the book, then looked up at him. 'Aren't you trying to beat time, too?' she asked, and at Sean's raised brows, went on, 'the wet won't be long, will it?'
His blue eyes studied her. 'So that's what you've got in mind, is it?' he said. 'Counting on a three-week drudge, are you? No wonder you took it so well! I'm afraid I've got a nasty surprise in
store for you. Sure, we stop excavating for the time being, but that's when the real work is done. Paper work, I'm talking about, and we've enough to work on to keep us busy for quite some time.' He gave her another wolfish grin. 'You'll be well up on scientific data by the time the site starts operating again. For once, my reports won't be handwritten.' His grin widened. 'You know, I could make a good case out of keeping you on as my personal assistant. You haven't got a job, have you?'
Sarah's fingers clutching the notebook stiffened. She said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes.
Sean nodded complacently. 'Not to your liking, eh? Well, that's to be expected. It's a bit of a come-down from your usual work. No more cosy dinners with intended victims, no more chat-ups in intimate surroundings. The only male in your vicinity will be someone who's wise to you. I'm willing to be entertained, of course,' his firm lips twisted disdainfully, 'but that's as far as it's going.' His blue, ice-cold eyes met hers. 'There'll be times, no doubt, when you'll think you've made a conquest, but I'm telling you now, there'll be nothing you can rely on, not from one day to the next,' he added grimly.
Sarah's flush deepened, and her eyes flashed back at him. 'If you mean what I think you mean,' she said, hardly able to keep her voice on an even keel, she was so angry. 'You're living in a fool's paradise to even consider that I'd—' she stopped, lost for words.
Sean's expressive brows lifted. 'Make a play for
me?' he finished for her, and nodded grimly. `Sure you will. You're no different from the rest of your tribe. You couldn't resist it! Besides, I'm considered a good catch—or hadn't you heard that?' he jeered at her.
Sarah was beyond replying. All she could think of was that she was stuck there for goodness knew how long. The work could go on for months, and if that wasn't bad enough, she was going to have to put up with this despicable character. She would have preferred the canteen work, and was tempted to ask to be kept on there, but decided not to make a point of it. He would enjoy turning the request down.
`You can go back to your old quarters,' he went on. 'That way I can keep in touch with you. You can use the next room as an office—I'll get it fixed up while you sort through these notes of mine.' He thrust a bulky file at her. 'I hope you can read my writing. In any case, you've got plenty of time to study, haven't you?' he added hatefully, and got up and walked to the door. `Thank you for reminding me about the wet. I'll have a word with Mrs Pullman to make sure we've got enough supplies to keep us going if it gets really bad.'
As the door slammed behind him, Sarah sat staring at the file in her hands, and after a brief glance through its contents, slammed it down on the desk. This was ridiculous! she thought angrily. She knew nothing about that kind of work, and what was more, she didn't want to know! Half her time would be spent in asking questions, and it just wasn't on!
Her angry glance rested on the telephone on Sean's desk, and her eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to her. The next moment she had picked the receiver up and was immediately connected with an unseen source on the site that answered with a flat 'Yes?'
Sarah immediately asked for an outside line. `Sorry, miss, only Mr Cartier can make outside calls,' replied the disembodied voice.
Sarah took a deep breath. This was her only chance to contact the outside world, and she didn't intend to lose it. 'Look, I'm Sarah Helm. Mr Cartier has just appointed me as the site press secretary. I want to place a call to the Daily, Sydney office,' she ordered in a no-nonsense voice, hoping to intimidate the operator, but the hand holding the receiver trembled slightly as she thought she heard Sean Cartier returning.
`Sorry about that,' came the laconic reply. `You'll still have to check with Mr Cartier. He didn't say anything about anyone else making outside calls. If you'd get Mr Cartier to--'
That was as far as Sarah allowed him to get before slamming the phone down in frustrated fury. So far everything was going his way. He'd sewn things up pretty tightly, she thought, but there had to be a way out of her dilemma, and by hook or by crook, she was going to find it. She wasn't beaten yet!
She was still standing by the desk when Sean returned.
`That's all right, then,' he said in a satisfied voice that made Sarah want to scream. 'You'd better go and collect your gear,' he ordered, and
picked up the file she had thrown back on to the
desk. 'You can do some studying while the other
room's being seen to,' and he thrust the file at her.
Sarah glared at him, but she had no choice but to accept the work. 'Talking of gear,' she said, `I'd like to know just how long I'm to be kept here. As you can imagine, I didn't come prepared for a long stay.' She took a deep breath, as she saw Sean's white teeth gleam in a wicked smile. `Apart from what I'm wearing,' she went on determinedly, 'I have only one other change of clothes. I don't suppose you thought of that, did you?' she challenged him angrily.
Sean's firm mouth twisted wryly. 'No, I guess I didn't,' he replied smoothly. 'I'll have to get you fixed up with something. Mrs Pullman's too big, and her niece is a bit on the small side,' he mused, to Sarah's fury. 'You're about size twelve, aren't you? Still, if Mrs Pullman can spare a couple of dresses, you can wrap them round you, can't you?'
`I'm not wearing anything of Mrs Pullman's or anyone else's clothes!' Sarah spat out at him.
With the speed of lightning Sean moved towards her, and she found her wrist caught in a vicelike hold. 'You don't seem to have got the hang of things yet,' he said harshly. 'Count yourself damn lucky that you're not in jail! As I've said, the law can't prosecute you for your type of crime, but that's not good enough for me. If I can save some other poor devil from falling into your clutches, then it will be a worthwhile exercise. In fact,' he added grimly, 'I'm quite looking forward to it. Things can get pretty dull
out here during the off season,' he added meaningly.
`I only hope,' Sarah ground out furiously, 'that you're as rich as it's rumoured you are. When I'm finished with you, you're going to need a job—any job!' she added wildly, 'because I'm going to sue you for all you've got!'
The hold on her wrist tightened even further, making her wince in pain, but she was too angry to let it sidetrack her, and she didn't show any fear when Sean jerked her against his hard body and held her in a suffocating embrace with his face only inches away from hers. 'And when I'm finished with you,' he grated in a low menacing voice, 'you'll be on your knees begging me to marry you!' He flung her away from him, walked round the desk to his chair, and sat down. 'So—now we've got the air cleared,' he said, in a conversational voice, as if he were discussing the weather, 'you can get down to work. The typewriter should be set up by now. Just save any queries for this evening. We can go over them during dinner,' he added pompously.
`I'm not having dinner with you!' Sarah said acidly. 'I'd rather eat in the canteen with the men.'
He studied her briefly before saying softly, `That's just not on. You play the game my way. You either dine with me, or not at all. Apart from getting awfully hungry, you're going to get very lonely stuck in that room of yours. Of course, I could have the dinner served there, but it's much more comfortable in my quarters, isn't it?' he added smoothly.
For the first time in her life Sarah seriously considered homicide! Surely under the circumstances, she would get a light sentence, if not complete acquittal!
Her mind was fully occupied in carrying out her cherished scheme of eliminating her tormentor, as she made her way back to the quarters she had shared with Mrs Pullman and her niece, and as she passed the canteen entrance, she noticed a van drawn up outside. It caught her eye because it was not a site vehicle, and glancing at the name on the van painted in eye-catching bright blue and white stripes, she saw that it belonged to the National Park.
Sarah stood and looked at it for a second or two, then she went in to the canteen to find Mrs Pullman, who was at that moment engaged in signing a delivery sheet for a tall, gangly-looking man, dressed in a rather grimy sweatshirt and faded denim shorts, and going by the cap on his head which bore the same name as that on the van, was obviously the driver, and had just delivered a box of huge delicious-looking pineapples. 'Same next week?' the driver asked, as he picked up the signed delivery note, and at Mrs Pullman's nod of confirmation, went on his way.
Mrs Pullman then caught sight of Sarah, whose mind was now seething with possibilities as to how she could get out of the site. She hadn't known about this delivery from the National Park, and had assumed that all the supplies had come by plane from Darwin. This, then, was where the fresh fruit came from.
`Mr Cartier changed his mind?' Mrs Pullman
asked hopefully, as she turned her attention to Sarah.
`I'm afraid not,' Sarah said. 'I'm on my way to get my things. I'm back at the main section where I was before,' and seeing Mrs Pullman's obvious disappointment at the news, she hurried on with, `I didn't know the fruit came from the National Park. I thought everything came from Darwin.'
`So it does,' Mrs Pullman replied. 'Well, nearly everything, but we had some bad weather a while ago when the plane was grounded, and the Park helped us out.' She nodded towards the box of pineapples. 'We never got such beauts as those, though, and they go a lot further than the others, so Mr Cartier agreed to make it a standing order.'
Sarah was tempted to ask whether the delivery came on the same day each week, but decided not to push the matter. She knew that Mrs Pullman was curious about her, but was certain that she had no idea that Sarah was being detained against her will. She would know that Sean Cartier had singled Sarah out for his personal attention when she had arrived at the site. You couldn't keep that sort of thing quiet, not in an enclosed area like that. Everything the big boss did was common gossip. They hadn't much else to occupy their time with.
What would make sense to Mrs Pullman was the fact that Sarah was chasing the boss, and had stayed on in the hope of making it a permanent attachment. This thought did nothing for Sarah's ego, but she knew that this sort of thing was a fact of life, particularly where money was concerned, and Sean Cartier was wealthy. He was
also good-looking, and knew it, she thought scathingly, and judging from what Martha had told her about a friend of hers, a playboy where women were concerned.
After a few more mundane remarks, Sarah left Mrs Pullman to get on with her work, and went to the chalet to pick up her kit, which did not take her long. She had little enough to pack, and at the thought of Sean Cartier's threat of providing her with one or two of Mrs Pullman's dresses, she very nearly broke her stern resolution not to let things get her down, and fought back the compelling need to have a good howl.
A few moments later she left the chalet, clutching her overnight bag in one hand and Sean Cartier's file in the other, that she had found herself still carrying long after she had left his office. It just went to show what a state she was in, she thought angrily. It only took a few minutes of his company to completely rout her normally calm presence of mind She would end up a raving idiot, given time, if she had to put up with him for long, of that she was certain.
There was, of course, the fact that if she had taken the file to her old quarters first, which normally she would have done, instead of carting it around with her, she would not have seen the Park van outside the canteen, for the delivery had not taken long, so perhaps for once fate was on her side, she mused, as she entered the long passage of the main building that led to the room she had shared with Martha. On entering the room, she wrinkled her nose as the smell of stale cosmetics that still hung in the air assailed her,