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Mike nodded ruefully. ‘Bad swells. Strong wind warning for coastal shipping. Not recommended. We’re going to have to wait it out here.’
Alex rubbed at his morning stubble. ‘Batten down the hatches?’
‘You got it.’
And that was what they did. All day. Everyone pitched in. Everything was secured. The very last thing they needed was flying debris smashing into the precious and very expensive solar panels. Glass was reinforced with tape. Some of the taller trees were trimmed. The satellite dish was lashed to the roof to reinforce it.
First aid equipment and other supplies like batteries, food, torches and water were hoarded in the living quarters. An old CB radio Piccolo had used before the more sophisticated communications centre had been installed in the lab was set up in Mike and Theresa’s room so they could get updates on the cyclones progress and have it handy in case of an emergency.
The boat, already tossing in the turbulent sea, was secured against the sturdy girders of the wooden jetty, while everything that could become a projectile was removed from it.
The security of the lab was paramount to them all, and they worked to make sure that everything was locked down inside and that once the cyclone had blown over the lab would be fully intact.
And all the while the wind picked up and the sea grew greyer, its angry surf pounding against Piccolo’s shoreline. Thunder roared around them and lightning forked across the sky. The air was heavy with humidity and crackling with a menacing electrical tension that was as awesome as it was terrifying. Mary was promising to put on quite a show.
The clouds developed an ominous green tinge before darkening further into night. Streaks of lightning lit up the heavens while they ate their evening meal of sandwiches and tinned fruit together.
A chill ran through Isobella as the wind buffeted her body. She wished she could put it down to the barely leashed fury of Mary. But mostly it was the thought that tonight Alex Zaphirides’ sleeping place on the beach was not an option.
Tonight he would be in her room. Tonight he would be on top.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NO SOONERhad they finished eating their meals than the heavens finally opened, unleashing an assault of stinging torrential rain. They couldn’t have stayed out much longer anyway—the wind really was becoming too strong for human habitation. Isobella could feel the unbridled strength of it, its angry fingers pushing against her body as they raced to get inside. It was hard to imagine that the worst of it was to come.
It was only eight o’clock, and a long, fraught night stretched before them.
‘Looks like it’s early to bed for all of us,’ Theresa said as they reached the anteroom. She shook the water droplets out of her hair. Sam’s sleeping form was completely unfazed by the fury of mother nature railing around them, his head lolling with the movements.
‘Where’s Mike?’ Alex asked.
‘He’s doing a last-minute check of the lab,’ Theresa replied.
Everyone trooped to their rooms, carrying kerosene lanterns. They each had a supply of kerosene and matches in their bunkrooms.
‘Do you want the shower first?’ Alex asked.
Isobella shook her head. ‘I had one before tea.’
They reached their door. ‘I’ll wait here until you’ve changed,’ Alex murmured. He hoped it sounded casual, and that the slight tremor in his voice could be put down to his damaged vocal cords instead of images of Isobella stripping down to her leopard print underwear.
Isobella nodded, not looking at him, her hand stilling on the doorknob. A squall of emotions rivaling the force of Mary lashed her insides.
Alex saw her hesitation. ‘I can sleep in the lab,’ he offered. How was he going to sleep anyway, with her and her damn lingerie only metres away? Even way down on the beach sleep had proved elusive the last two nights.
She shivered, the erotic scrape of his voice teasing her bowstring-taut nerves back into languid relaxation. She opened the door to their room and the wild wind howling around the building rattled the taped window with ferocious intent, snapping her nerves tight again.
She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that being on a small tropical island about to be sideswiped by a mighty cyclone didn’t freak her out a little. Having never lived in the tropics, she’d hadn’t fully appreciated the sheer raw power of weather. Her nights were too often filled with ICU flashbacks as it was. She really didn’t want to ride out a cyclone alone.
‘No. Mike wants us to all stay together.’ She didn’t look back as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.
