foreign country. And I do seem rather dependent on your goodwill.'
'Desperate straits indeed,' he commented coolly. 'Perhaps you should have enquired more closely into my background before inviting me up here.'
'Oh, I'm sure that's not necessary.' It was agony having to keep her tone sweet and reasonable when she felt like up-ending the coffee-pot over his head.
'I know you must think that I'm—an interloper, and a nuisance, but I had to come here. You must see that.'
'I can see that you are here, certainly.' He drank some coffee. 'The matter in dispute is how long you should remain.'
Bastard, she thought. She summoned a sad little smile. 'Perhaps you're right, however. Maybe I didn't think the thing through clearly enough before I started. But I tend to be a creature of impulse.'
'How fortunate for you,' he drawled. 'That's a luxury most of us can't afford.'
'I suppose not. But I've had time to consider now, and I can see that you have a point.' Leigh looked at him through her lashes. 'I—I'm trying to apologise, Doctor Martinez.' She set down her cup. 'Won't you meet me halfway?'
There was a startled expression in the topaz eyes as they narrowed, but all he said was, 'If that's what you want.'
It would do for starters, she thought, concealing her jubilation. Before he knew what was happening, he would be eating out of her hand.
She smiled at him. 'That's exactly what I want.' She paused. 'Now that we understand each other a little better, shall we be slightly less formal? My name is Leigh.'
'It was on the message that arrived at the camp,' he said rather drily.
She poured him some more coffee. 'Ah, yes, the camp. Won't you tell me all about Atayahuanco, and your work there? It obviously means a great deal to you.'
'It would take much longer than the time I have available to even begin to describe what we're trying to achieve there,' he said quietly. 'And yes, it does mean a great deal to me, which is why I don't readily accept passengers on the project. We haven't the time or the resources to cope. Everyone has to pull his weight.'
'I'm sure they do.' With you and your whip standing over them, she added silently. 'Are there no women on the project at all?'
'We have a female nurse, June Muirhead on the camp. And Consuelo Esteban is one of our pottery experts. Did your—fiancé never mention them?'
'No.' Leigh looked down at the table. 'He was more concerned, I think, with other elements.'
'I can guess.' His tone was dry. He ticked them off on his fingers. 'The atmosphere, the cold at night, the food, the insects, the sanitation… Need I go on?'
'No,' she admitted, sighing. 'But you mustn't blame him altogether. It was—wrong of my family to involve the project in our personal—differences. Please believe it wasn't my idea.'
'Nor Gilchrist's either, I should imagine.' His mouth twisted sardonically. 'Were we perhaps expected to make a man of him?'
She flushed. 'That's unfair! It isn't his fault if he wasn't much use on the project. He was out of his depth from the start.'
'In more ways than one.'
Now what did he mean by that? she wondered. But at least he wasn't sounding quite so unsympathetic and dismissive as he had the previous day, apart from that last crack about Evan.
And then she realised with utter dismay that he was looking at his watch.
'Well, thank you for a delightful interlude,' he said. 'It's good to be reminded of the pleasures of civilisation occasionally.'
'You can't be going already,' she protested. 'Why, it's still quite early!'
'So is the start I have to make tomorrow.'
My God, she thought, and I've been fawning round him, and feeding him…
She put a hand on his. 'Oh, Rourke, please don't go yet. I hate being on my own. I've felt so isolated, so lonely ever since I got here. You can't imagine what it's like.'
'It's a long way to come to discover you don't like travelling alone,' he said drily, but he made no further move to leave, to her relief.
'No one should have to be
Richard Ellis Preston Jr.