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‘Mmm,’ she said, feigning disinterest and returning her eyes to the microscope.
They dined on fresh snapper for tea, and Isobella was content to let the conversation swirl around her. The global warming research Mike and Theresa were also conducting was fascinating stuff, and Isobella realised she could have listened all night. But the sea air was working its magic, and by eight-thirty she was yawning.
‘Well, that’s me done for,’ she said, standing. ‘Think I’ll hit the sack.’
Everyone protested except the one person she’d been studiously avoiding looking at all evening. But she’d been more than aware of Alex’s intense Aegean gaze.
‘I’ll see you all in the morning.’
Island moonlight filtered through the unadorned window in her room as Isobella stripped down to her lacy turquoise bra and knickers. Given that there was no electricity in the living quarters it was just as well. She pulled a V-necked singlet over her head that overlapped the band of her undies. She usually slept in the lilac negligee. That had been all right for Cairns, in her own suite, but here, with Alex so close by, she wanted to be more covered. She couldn’t bear to wear one of her high-necked shirts all night, though, so the singlet was a good compromise.
She’d made her bed earlier, and crawled into it now, bone-weary in a way she hadn’t been for a long time. Sleep was often elusive for her, and she usually read journal articles and research papers she’d brought home late into the night. But not even her earlier confrontation with Alex was enough to stop her eyes from drooping. It must be the salt air and the rhythmic lullaby of the waves, or the soft kiss of moonbeams on her face, but as soon as her head hit the pillow she slept.
Alex tiptoed into the room an hour later to retrieve his swag, moonlight guiding the way. He’d told himself he wouldn’t look at her, but as he turned from the shelving, swag in hand, his gaze fell on her sleeping face. She’d removed her glasses and, shadowed as it was, her features relaxed instead of alert and tense, she looked impossibly young.
He found his thoughts wandering to what lay beneath the sheet she’d pulled up to her chin. There was no way he could tell. But that didn’t stop him thinking about which item out of her bag of goodies she was sleeping in tonight. He felt his groin tighten and sighed, flicking off the torch as he left the room. No way was he going to sleep tonight. In fact he might never sleep again, thinking of Isobella in that lilac negligee.
The next day dawned bright and clear again, and Isobella and Alex eagerly threw themselves into the routine of Piccolo. They were polite but cool to each other—professional. Rigidly adhering to their boss/subordinate roles. If the crew of Piccolo noticed, they didn’t say anything, but Isobella swore she saw a raised eyebrow or two pass between Mike and Theresa.
Alex tried to talk her into going out on the boat with him and Mike, so she could witness the different stages of each experiment first hand, but she adamantly refused and he didn’t push it. She was wrapped in another tent-like contraption today, but he swore it was more distracting than had she been walking around naked. The last thing he needed to be thinking about on the boat was the colour of her underwear.
So Isobella stayed with Theresa, Ruth and Kate, and had a thoroughly interesting day in the lab. She hadn’t been lying to Alex—she did miss her job—so it was great to be back in a familiar environment, despite the dramatic difference in setting. She even took some time out and built a sandcastle with Sam.
The day flew by until the men came back, and then there was more lab work, and it was evening before she knew it. Once again it got to eight-thirty and the lure of bed beckoned. The fact that she’d barely seen or spoken to Alex all day made it all the more likely she’d sleep soundly.
Alex awoke on the beach the next morning to a very menacing-looking sky. Dark clouds had erased the sunshine, casting a grey shadow across suddenly choppy waters. It was windy, and he rose and went straight into the lab. Mike was sitting at the weather station.
‘Mary?’ Alex queried.
Mike nodded. ‘She turned late last night. They’ve classed her as a category four at the moment. It’s not going to hit us directly, but skirt around us. The beaurea have confirmed it should pass by about midnight tonight, on its way to hit an isolated spot on the far North Queensland coast. It’s going to be a rough night, though.’ He turned to Alex. ‘Bloody women, huh?’
Alex grinned. ‘I suppose it’s too late to evacuate to Temora?’
