She soon pushed off the virus but she knew she was not well enough to start work yet. At Kip's insistence, she rang her father, getting him to ring back and chat. It was not much of a chat. Of course he was worried but as soon as she told him she was almost better he began to remind her about the opening date of the Kabala Dam, the tight schedule, told her all over again what she must do and thoroughly irritated her until she snapped at him.
When she walked back into the lamplit lounge Kip was reading but his lips were quirking. Of course he had heard—he could hardly have failed to. She had raised her voice several times before the final outburst.
'Don't accuse me of eavesdropping,' he warned when she looked at him with exasperation.
'I wasn't about to. I realise you couldn't miss that. When my father gets under way he has to be stopped smartly.'
'And you stopped him fine.' He threw down his book. 'Tell me what you do.'
'I do all the research.' Natalie sat opposite, not so uneasy when she could talk about her job. 'I did that in television before I joined Westwind Productions. My father wouldn't have me until I was trained and by that time I wasn't too keen to leave my own job. He persuaded me, though, and I have to admit I enjoy it.'
'So you make notes?' He was stretched out on the long rattan settee, resting back against the cushions. 'What else?'
'We plan everything in the studio but once out on the job I change things as and when necessary and make out a final working plan. I make notes for the commentary and set up the camera shots. Of course, Ray sometimes changes those, but by and large I know how his mind works and manage to satisfy his whims.'
'Ray?' He looked at her steadily and she lifted slender shoulders in a delicate shrug.
'The cameraman. He's good.'
'What do the others do?'
'Producer and sound among other things. Being a small company, we double up on jobs.' Her mind slid to Paula, who also doubled as Neil's assistant.
'All men?' He Was watching so intently that she had to look away. Now that she was better the thought of Neil was eating into her again and she wondered if it showed. She would have to face him soon.
'One woman, besides me.'
He nodded, still watching her, and she had to stand up, agitation suddenly making her restless. It was ironic that she would be the one to tell them to come out here. It would have been better if she had left the company altogether but that would have been more than obvious to her father and to Neil. This break away from him hadn't done anything to help. She was both dying to see him and dreading it. It would have been better if she could have hated Paula but who could hate a bubbly-haired child? She couldn't help thinking of Paula like that and she often thought that that was what had attracted Neil to her.
'Can I walk to the gate? Is it safe?' Suddenly she wanted to run, hide, refuse to face anything else.
'Safe enough, just the odd bat. I'll come with you.' He stood slowly, following when she moved out on to the veranda and down the steps. It was lovely and cool, the heavy moisture not seeming to be there any more. The stars were brilliant against a deep velvet sky, the Southern Cross hanging like jewels in the dark.
'It's beautiful,' Natalie breathed. 'How long have you lived here?'
'On and off, five years. More on than off.'
She wanted him to talk about himself but he never did. She too had kept her life very much a secret. Even so he knew more about her than she did about him. She knew nothing at all. He didn't volunteer any information now and she didn't ask. He wasn't very comfortable to be with and it was not only the sure knowledge that she irritated him. She was always alert with him. She couldn't chatter to him. She was much too shy, in spite of her businesslike appearance, and he was too enigmatic, too rawly masculine.
Sometimes he was mockingly gentle but not very often. More often than not he was totally unreachable, a man alone, self-confident and cool. His mockery covered irritation as far as she was concerned, but he was much too civilised to show it.
'Do you always live by yourself?' she asked rather foolishly, blurting out the thought when it surfaced, following the idea that had been in her mind for a couple of days. There must be a woman somewhere in the life of a man like this. He was too potently male to be denied.
'Not always,' he murmured. 'Right now I live with you.'
Natalie blushed, thankful it was dark.
'Very funny! It was a silly question, anyway. You're too tough to fall in love.' She felt horrified when she heard her own words. Whatever had got into her? In the first place it was impertinent and in the second place she was just asking for trouble.
'Love? What's that?' He took her arm and swung her to face him as they reached the wide gates.
'I—I'm sorry. It was very rude. I don't know why I said it.'
'Oh? I do. You're inquisitive, a further part of your training. Maybe I should tell you in case you want to make some of those notes. I can't count the number of times I've been in love. Sometimes it lasted a night, sometimes a whole two days.'
'A convenient excuse for sex, you mean?' Natalie retaliated, swinging away. She had asked for this, blurting out such odd thoughts. She should have known better with Kip Forsythe.
'Who needs an excuse?' He caught her arm again, swinging her back to face him, his hands coming lightly to her shoulders. 'Now you, you're doing very well, butterfly. I've been in love with you for all of five days.'
He was laughing down at her and it not only infuriated her, it scared her. His hands were absently moulding her delicate shoulders, his lean brown fingers tracing the bones, and she felt a wave of unaccustomed emotion, like heat, uncomfortable and unacceptable. She started to tremble, a panic-stricken feeling bubbling up very close to the surface.