They came out of the trees above grassland and Natalie sat up straight, her lips parting in wonder. She had seen giraffes before but only on film. This time she saw them from close up, settling into their peculiar gait, their oddly undulating run as the herd swept across the grass, disturbed by the small plane.
'Get the glasses.' He motioned to the compartment before her and she took out the binoculars she found there, focusing on the swiftly moving animals, drinking in their color and movement l.
'They've got long eyelashes,' she breathed in awe. 'They're quite beautiful.'
'They are. And quite free, too. I think we've disturbed them enough.' He began to climb and she watched the herd finally slow, mill around and then stop, none the worse apparently for their fright.
'Thank you.' She glanced at him as she packed the binoculars neatly away. 'It was a wonderful sight.' She received a brilliant, flashing glance from dark eyes.
'Maybe a light aircraft is not scary as a big jet.'
So, he had been doing his bit towards psychiatric help? It irritated her greatly.
'Perhaps not,' she countered. 'You seem to treat it like a motorbike.' She closed her eyes quickly, wincing as pain jabbed through her head, and he didn't miss her expression.
'You're ill, aren't you?' She took the tone of his voice to be reprimanding, just what she had expected.
'I'm fine only tired. I told you that.'
'As you wish,' he murmured scathingly. 'I'll concentrate on getting you to your hotel quickly, Miss West.'
She was sorry then that she hadn't told him how ill she felt. She was certain he would have helped. It was just that she felt rather vulnerable at the side of him, all that tough, masculine power. In fact she had felt extremely vulnerable from the time she had opened her eyes at the airport and saw him. He was too big, too golden and bronzed. He had the ability to make her feel inadequate, foolishly feminine and a nuisance he would countenance with amused contempt. There was something almost magnetic about him, hypnotic, as if underneath all that dry derision a powerful dynamo was working, ready to flare into life.
She slept for a while. She had not had the slightest intention of doing so but the steady drone of the aircraft and the feeling of tiredness and weakness combined to make it impossible to keep awake. At least it removed any necessity to speak, and if they were going to have an accident she wouldn't know it.
When she opened her eyes the swift evening was almost upon them. She sat up quickly when she realized she had slid sideways, her head resting against his shoulder. Apart from being embarrassing, it seemed to give him some slight advantage, and he didn't need any of that. She felt wary enough as it was, disturbed by her peculiar response to him; dynamite, waiting for a match.
Feeling better?' He did not look across when she glanced at him. The red glow of the approaching night lit up the small cabin, catching the finely etched planes of his face, darkening his already deep tan, glinting in his fair hair. He looked magnificent really, quite devastating, like no one she had ever seen before.
'Yes, thank you.' The sound of her own voice surprised her; it was thick, raw, and she swallowed uncomfortably, feeling the pain of a soar throat. She would have liked a drink but there didn't seem to be one available.
'There's a Thermos flask behind your seat, if you can reach,' he said quietly. 'It's iced orange. Get it out and have a good drink.'
He was a competent mind reader too. She fished about and managed to reach it, grateful to feel the icy liquid sliding down her throat, putting the flask away when he shook his head at her offer to pour him one.
'I'm looking forward to a stronger drink. We'll be landing in about ten minutes. We entered Madembi quite a while ago. I'll get you settled once we land.'
He didn't say it outright, of course, but she could tell he wanted her off his hands with all speed----not that she blamed him. Except for the few minutes they had been on a fight right from the moment they had met. It made her feel guilty. She didn't really have any right to snap at him. He was obviously not some government servant. He was simply a man who had offered to help out. Belatedly she tried to mend a few fences.
'Thank you for bringing me here.
'No trouble,' he said suavely. 'I was bringing myself at the same time. I expect you'll be flying out with the rest of your crew when the time comes?'
'Yes. The're four of us we'll be getting the scheduled flight.'
'And how long will you be here?'
'Not long. The rest will join me when I'm ready, in about two weeks or maybe less. After that it's speed all the way. Four days will be pushing it. It's quite a costly business. That's why I come to set things up first. It has to go smoothly when the crew come out here?' I never told you what I do. It's my job to------'
'I already know what you do,' he interrupted softly. 'You're the hatchet-man for Westwind. The big, strong lady who sets things up.' He was grinning
to himself, with a sort of amused malice, and Natalie flushed with annoyance.
It didn't last, though; another wave of dizziness swept over her at a sharp pounding of her head and he said nothing more because they had arrived. She could see the landing lights brilliant again the gathering gloom and once more she gripped her hands tightly together as they began to decend.
When Natalie's feet finally touched the ground, her legs almost folded beneath her and the airports light took on a frightening tendency to spin. It was over in a minute and she managed to hang on grimly but she was thankful when the slight formalities were over and she had been excorted to a dark car parked close to the airport buildings.