One Night Of Love

There were four empty spaces round the table, those of crew members that they would be picking up in Antigua, local men who were taking advantage of their being in the area to take a break with their families. Dyan heard Oliver ask about the empty chairs and the chief engineer tell him that there were some men to come, but then Joe began to serve the food and nothing more was said. It was a good meal, made of fresh food and plenty of it. Not up to five star hotel standard, but very good for a Starr Marine boat. Dyan couldn’t help glancing at Oliver to see his reaction, but he was apparently eating with as much appetite as the rest.

She only glanced at him a few times, and seemed to be giving her attention to Hal, who was recounting the story of his very first dive. But she had heard it all before and so her mind wandered, and naturally dwelt on Oliver, the stranger in their midst. He seemed a paradox; to be so open-minded that he had accepted her at once and without question, and at the same time anxious about the reliability of the men— men that he must know had been thoroughly vetted by Barney before they would be employed for a project such as this. And whatever his mind, his character wasn’t open; he seemed to have a natural reserve, an air of reticence about him. The chief engineer was talking to him and Oliver was listening politely, but he glanced up before Dyan could look away and caught her eye. She gave him one of her warm smiles and he looked at her for a moment before nodding in return, but he didn’t smile back. He didn’t seem to smile much at all. Perhaps this is his first assignment, she thought excusingly. Perhaps he’s too tense to relax.

His meal finished, Russ, the skipper, glanced at his watch and stood up, several other men doing the same. But those not on watch stayed in the cabin for coffee.

The boat made little noise as it put slowly out to sea, its modern engines hardly vibrating, the calmness of the harbour holding the boat steady. The curtains in the cabin were drawn and there were no passing lights to show that they were moving. Not until they were out of the harbour and into the open sea, when the engines were opened up, did a slight tremble along the decking betray that the boat was in its element at last.

Oliver felt it and looked up in sharp surprise. Putting down his coffee-cup, he said to Dyan, ‘I’d like to talk to you, if I may?’

‘Of course.’ She stood up. ‘Shall we go to the operations room?’

She walked ahead of him, her legs immediately adjusting to the movement of the ship, finding it no problem after so many salvage operations such as this. When they reached the ops room she waited until Oliver had followed her in and then closed the door behind them.

‘This room is completely soundproof,’ she told him reassuringly. ‘I expect you want to give me the coordinates for the last known position of the Xanadu. All I know at the moment is that she went down off the Windward Islands.’

‘No, that isn’t what I want,’ Oliver said tersely. ‘What I want to know is just when your father is coming aboard?’

‘My father?’ She stared at him incredulously, thinking that she couldn’t possibly have heard right. ‘I haven’t got a father—I mean, I did have one but he died years ago.’

‘Well, your brother, then,’ Oliver said impatiently. ‘Whatever relation to you this man Logan is who’s supposed to be in charge of this expedition. He should have been here from the start, but now I want to know exactly where he is.’

All the happy thoughts of a uniquely open-minded man faded abruptly. Dyan’s face hardened. ‘You’d better come with me,’ she said shortly, and led the way into the office section where all the telephones were. Glancing at the clock, she calculated that Barney would still be in the office, hopefully having lunch…and hopefully the call would give him acute indigestion. She wrote the number down and gave it to Oliver. ‘This is Barnaby Starr’s private line in London. He’ll be expecting your call. In fact, he’s probably been waiting for it for the last four hours.’

She went to leave but Oliver lifted a restraining hand. ‘Just a moment. Why should he be waiting for me to call? And where is Logan…?’ Even as he said it the truth dawned on him. Oliver’s eyes widened incredulously. ‘You?’ he exclaimed in utter disbelief.

‘Yes, that’s right. I’m in charge of this expedition, this ship, these men.’ Her chin came up in angry challenge. ‘And why not?’

Oliver’s hand had automatically reached towards the telephone when she’d given him the number, but now his eyes were fixed on her face, his own still wide with shock. ‘But I expected a——’

‘A man,’ Dyan finished for him. ‘Of course you did.’ Her tone was heavy with sarcasm, mostly because of her own disappointment.

Recovering quickly, Oliver’s jaw hardened at her tone. ‘Yes,’ he agreed frankly, ‘I was expecting a man. I was also expecting someone twice as old as you.’

‘Really?’ Dyan gave him a sardonic smile. ‘You’ve turned out to be exactly the kind of male chauvinist I was expecting.’ And then was immediately angry with herself for letting her feelings betray her into being rude.

And Oliver didn’t let her get away with it. His eyes narrowing, he said tersely, ‘A typically ferninine and silly remark.’

Dyan’s cheeks flushed a little. She should have apologised, she supposed, but was determined not to. Instead her chin came up and she said, ‘You have two alternatives, Mr Balfour. You can either entrust me with your project, or we can turn the ship round, go back to port, and you can find yourself a new salvage company.’

‘Or I could instruct Mr Starr to send out someone else to take charge of this expedition,’ he reminded her shortly.

She shook her head decisively. ‘No, you couldn’t. Your contract with Starr Marine specified that they would supply an experienced and capable oceanographer to take charge of the operation. They’ve done that. If you don’t want me, then that’s your choice, but you will have to break the contract and go elsewhere.’

‘That sounds suspiciously like blackmail,’ Oliver said angrily.

With a shrug, Dyan said, ‘I can’t help the way it sounds. That’s the way it is. Talk to Barney on the phone. Ask him for someone new. See what he says, if you don’t believe me.’

She went to leave him alone in the office but Oliver, his eyes on her face, on the heightened colour in her cheeks and the angry fire in her green eyes, said, ‘You don’t sell yourself short, do you?’

‘I don’t have to. I know my job. Your project is no big deal from the point of view of finding and raising the Xanadu; it’s only the nature of the cargo that makes it at all special.’

‘Is that supposed to put me in my place?’

Dyan took a deep breath, striving to hold in check a temper that went with her hair. Usually she had no trouble; experience and responsibility had taught her self-control, and she was adult enough to know that disappointment was playing a great part in her emotions now. Balling her hands, she said as calmly as she could, ‘No, it was meant to imply that I’ve done this job many times before—but you must already know that; Barney would have told you.’

‘Yes, he did. But he left out one or two very relevant details,’ Oliver said wryly.

‘You mean he didn’t tell you I wasn’t a man.’

‘Or how young you are.’

‘Well, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about either. You’ll just have to make up your mind what you want to do.’ She opened the door. ‘I’ll leave you to call Barney.’

‘Wait.’ His grey eyes regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Does Starr ever tell the customers that you’re a girl?’

‘No.’ She shook her head.

‘Why not?’

‘He has a twisted sense of humour,’ she answered flippantly.

Oliver gave her a level look. ‘Now tell me the real reason.’

Dyan met his eyes for a moment, then gave an angry gesture. ‘Why do you think?’ she said on a bitter note. ‘If he did, I’d probably never get any work. Women don’t usually do this kind of job, and men are naturally biased against women who encroach on what they consider to be their world. If I were a subordinate it would be OK, but they neither like nor trust a woman who’s in charge.’

‘You’re talking about the company’s customers?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘What about the men in the crew?’ Oliver said. ‘Do they resent you?’

‘No. We’ve all worked together before. They do their jobs, and I do mine.’

‘But do they trust you?’

She saw what he was getting at. ‘Yes, they trust me. They have to. Their lives are in my hands, are my responsibility.’

Again he gave her a thoughtful look. ‘During dinner—they didn’t seem to treat you as their boss, show you any deference.’

Dyan could see why he was doubtful, but it was difficult to explain to a stranger. Perching on the edge of the desk, she said, gesturing expressively with her hands, ‘It’s different on the sea. When we’re down in the galley we’re all shipmates together. But when Russ is on the bridge, then he’s the captain and the men jump to obey him. And when we’re diving, then Hal is in charge and his orders have to be obeyed. But I’m in overall command of the whole project, and I tell the ship where to go and the men when and where to dive. But they know I’m an expert at my job, that I know the sea. And they respect that. Just as I respect their expertise in their own particular fields.’

She paused, wondering if he understood. Oliver was watching and listening closely, his attention centred on her, and she knew that he did, that he was intelligent enough to imagine how it must be.

Dyan went on, ‘There has to be someone who’s experienced in wet salvage who is in control of the project. I’m that someone because I am experienced, because I’m a professional oceanographer and perfectly capable of undertaking this expedition. That I’m a woman shouldn’t matter,’ she said on a forceful note. But then gave a bitter little laugh. ‘But it does matter, of course. Because all the rest counts for less than nothing where male prejudice is concerned.’

‘I don’t like being made a fool of,’ Oliver said grimly.

‘And I don’t like being treated as a second-class citizen,’ she retorted.

This time when she made for the door Oliver didn’t try to stop her.

Glancing back briefly, she said, ‘I’ll be up on deck when you’ve made your call.’

But once outside the room, out of his sight, Dyan leaned against the wall for a moment, fists clenched, eyes closed, trying to regain some degree of composure. What the hell was the matter with her? she wondered, angry that she’d let it get to her. This had happened to her many times before but she’d seldom felt this uptight about it. But there was nothing more she could do. Oliver would either agree to go on or they would go back. But she had the sick feeling that this was one customer she was going to lose. He had been so convinced a man would be in charge that it hadn’t even occurred to him that it might be her. Oliver had merely marked her down, first as ‘Logan’s wife, then his daughter or sister. What she had thought was open-mindedness was in reality a mind so closed that it hadn’t even contemplated the possibility of her being the boss.

On a sudden surge of anger, Dyan went into her cabin, picked up the parcels of new clothes that she’d bought, and threw them, with as much force as she could find, against the far wall. The boxes burst open, the flowing silk of dresses and underwear, the bright cottons of swimsuits and shirts spilling over the floor and furniture. Feeling a little better, but not much, Dyan went up on deck.

Oliver joined her much sooner than she expected him to. She was standing in the bow of the boat, looking out at the velvety blackness of the night, pinpricked by stars and lights from the distant islands. The wind caught her hair, tendrils of it hiding her face, for which she was glad. Oliver came up to her but she didn’t look round.

‘That didn’t take long,’ she commented wryly. ‘I take it we’re turning back?’

Leaning an arm on the rail, Oliver said, ‘I didn’t make the call.’

Dyan stiffened her shoulders. ‘You had already decided, then,’ she said flatly.

‘Yes—but to go on, not to turn back.’

That brought her swiftly round to face him, an impatient hand going up to push her hair aside. ‘You mean you’re willing to trust me—and without consulting Barney?’ Her voice was full of surprise, and there was a flare of hope in her eyes.

Oliver nodded, and suddenly grinned, the unexpected smile so transforming his face that he seemed like an entirely different man. ‘I thought we’d leave him waiting by the phone, wondering what the hell’s happening.’

‘Thanks,’ Dyan said in husky gratitude. ‘It usually takes Barney about an hour of persuasion before a new customer will give me a try,’ she confided, on a sudden wave of happiness.

Oliver spread his hands. ‘I recognise a fait accompli when I see it. I don’t like the way it was done,’ he paused, his eyes resting on her, ‘but I’m willing to give you a try—Logan.’

Dyan laughed, said goodnight, and went down to her cabin to pick up all the new clothes and carefully hang them in the wardrobe.

CHAPTER TWO

THERE was no set time for breakfast on board the ship. Those of the crew who weren’t on watch went to the galley when they felt like it, or when they were no longer able to resist the savoury smells of frying bacon and hash browns. Dyan usually contented herself with fresh orange juice and toast, so often had her breakfast in her cabin, brought to her by Joe. But on their first morning at sea she went down to join the others. Today she was wearing what she described as her working clothes; a pair of shorts and a loose, short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of yellow canvas espadrilles on her feet, but today the clothes were new. Her hair she had woven from the top of her head into one thick plait that she’d fastened with a yellow bow, although ordinarily she would have used just an elastic band. And ordinarily her face would have been clean of make-up, because there was no way she wanted to be seen by the men as a sex object, but today she’d looked at her bare face in the mirror and impulsively added enough make-up to enhance her appearance.

It was still early and most of the crew were in the galley, but Oliver wasn’t there. He came in about ten minutes later, looking as if he hadn’t slept very well. All the other men, without exception, were wearing shorts, but he had on a pair of lightweight trousers, although he had put on a short-sleeved shirt. Dyan was sitting at a table with Russ, and after helping himself from the buffet Oliver came over to join them.

‘Good morning.’

Russ gave him a nod, but Dyan smiled at him and said, ‘You look as if you’re suffering from jet lag or something.’

‘Probably,’ he agreed. ‘My body clock hasn’t caught up yet.’ He looked at her. ‘I didn’t give you the coordinates you wanted last night.’

‘That’s OK. There’s plenty of time. We have to go to Antigua first to pick up some more members of the crew. That’s where we’re heading now. So you can count this part of the trip as a pleasure cruise,’ she said lightly.

‘I’ve never been the kind of person who goes on a leisurely cruise,’ Oliver remarked. ‘Not enough to do.’

‘Why not go up and have a look round the bridge? I’m sure Russ will be pleased to show you round.’

‘We already did that last night,’ Russ remarked. ‘After you’d gone down to your cabin.’

Dyan glanced at Oliver, guessing immediately that he’d gone to talk to Russ about her; to find out if she really was respected by the crew, if she really did know her job as she’d claimed. His face was impassive, but the fact that he showed no emotion told its own story.

‘I hope you were reassured?’ she said lightly.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Reassured?’

‘If I were in your position I’d do some checking, too.’

‘I told him I’d as soon sail under your command as any other expedition leader in the company,’ Russ said brusquely.

She smiled her thanks at him and stood up. ‘If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.’

Russ only nodded, but Oliver stood up politely. Dyan glanced at him as she went by, but his eyes were on her legs, which didn’t altogether displease her.

Dyan went to the ops room to carry out the daily checks, mark up the logs. Her first concern was to see what other craft were in the area, to make sure that they weren’t being followed. But they were still too near the islands and there were too many blips on the screen to be certain one way or the other. It wouldn’t be until they’d left Antigua behind and were out of the main traffic lanes that they could check for sure.

A beeper sounded and Dyan went into the office to answer the phone. Without waiting for the caller to speak, she said, ‘Hi, Barney. Have you got any nails left?’

‘No nails, no fingers,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘What happened; didn’t Balfour show?’

‘There are some people, Barney, who believe in the equality of the sexes.’

‘Yeah—mostly women. You talk him into it yourself?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Define “something”.’

‘We were already at sea before he realised,’ Dyan admitted.

Barney gave a shout of laughter. ‘Nice one, Logan. But if you have any trouble, put him on to me.’

‘I don’t somehow think that will be necessary.’

‘Is that so? Balfour’s fallen for that luscious body of yours, has he?’

Glancing through the glass partition, Dyan saw that Oliver had come into the ops room in search of her, and was profoundly grateful that the partition was soundproof. ‘He appreciates my mind,’ she said primly.

That brought another roar of laughter. Barney was a tease and enjoyed trying to discomfit her, although she’d long ago got his measure. He might make chauvinistic remarks but she knew that he was proud of her in his way and would give her all the protection she might need. He gave the impression of being tough, a rough diamond, but she knew that he was just a marshmallow below a hard crust.

‘The guy must be a nut, then,’ he told her. ‘Or is he one of those?’

Dyan knew what he meant and said with certainty, ‘Oh, no, he definitely isn’t like that.’

‘He’s not, huh? Now how come you’re so sure, I wonder?’ Dyan didn’t reply and he chuckled richly. ‘Well, just remember, kid; if you’re going to mix business with pleasure, then business comes first. OK?’

‘OK, boss. I’ll remember.’ And Dyan put down the phone to go to join Oliver.

But as she stood up he came into the office. ‘I’ve brought you the co-ordinates you wanted. And a report from the captain of the Xanadu on the sinking.’

Dyan glanced at the latitude and longitude figures he handed her and she gave a small frown. ‘Would you like to see where this is on the chart?’

‘Yes, I’d be interested.’

She opened the safe, put in the papers he’d given her, including the lat. and long. figures, carefully closed it again, and took him into the ops room.

‘Take a break for ten minutes, Ed,’ she said to the man bending over the radar screen.

The seaman left and she went over to the central chart table, sorted through the rolled charts beneath it, selected one, and laid it out on the table. ‘The position you’ve given me is to the west of the Windward Islands, in the Lesser Antilles. The sea there isn’t the deepest in the Caribbean, but it can be quite deep. We’ll just have to hope the Xanadu is in shallow water. The boat was on its way to Jamaica, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, but the pop star stopped off to live it up for a few days in Barbados, then got caught in a hurricane. When is the hurricane season out here, by the way?’

‘From May to November.’

‘Now, then?’

‘Yes.’ Dyan glanced at him, wondering if he was afraid. ‘But we’ll get plenty of warning from the National Hurricane Centre if there’s one due,’ she said reassuringly, testing him.

Oliver looked surprised so she knew she had been wrong. ‘Then surely the captain of the Xanadu would have been warned?’ he observed.

‘Yes. But your pop star might have decided he was bored in Barbados and wanted to head for home.’

‘But couldn’t the captain have refused if he thought it was dangerous?’

‘That might have depended on whether he wanted to keep his job,’ Dyan said drily. ‘Boat captains are at the whim of the owners. And he might have thought it was worth taking the risk. Late hurricanes are sometimes not much worse than a bad storm, and it could have gone in a different direction. Hurricanes are often capricious. They were unlucky to hit it. And having that heavy safe full of cargo aboard would have made it difficult for them to outrun the storm.’

‘Do you think you’ll be able to raise the boat?’

‘That depends on whether we can find it.’

‘But you have its last position.’

‘That’s not really much help,’ Dyan told him. ‘That could have been the Xanadu’s last known position before it hit the hurricane, and it could have been blown a long way from there before it sank. I’ll have to read the captain’s report to find out. Then again, the captain might have deliberately given us the wrong co-ordinates.’

Oliver’s eyebrows rose, his mind working fast. ‘You mean he might be indulging in some private enterprise?’

She nodded, pleased by his quickness. ‘Yes. Your pop star might have blamed him for the sinking and dismissed him without a reference. The captain could be out here right now, with another salvage vessel.’

‘He isn’t my pop star,’ Oliver pointed out, then shuddered. ‘God forbid.’

‘As bad as that?’ Dyan asked with a laugh.

‘Worse,’ he said with feeling. Then frowned as he said, ‘So we might not find the Xanadu at all.’

‘Or we might find it with the cargo already taken.’

‘You paint a grim prospect,’ Oliver said wryly.

‘It might not be that bad. It rather depends on the pop star’s intelligence and the crew’s loyalty. If he kept on the captain and crew, is employing them on another boat, then everything will probably be fine. But it might be worth checking on that point.’

‘I’ll see to it,’ Oliver said decisively.

She straightened up and found herself very close to him. His aftershave, fresh and tangy, filled her senses. For a moment she drank it in, but then their bare arms touched, and it so disturbed her that Dyan quickly moved away. She went to roll up the chart, but Oliver said, ‘Just a moment. You had a rough idea of where we were heading so why did you start the voyage at Nassau and not somewhere nearer?’

‘Because it was easier to equip the boat there. Because it gives us more time to see if we’re being followed. Because we had to pick up the new submersible there. Because——’

Oliver held up a hand and gave her one of his transfiguring smiles. ‘I think I get the message. Sorry I asked.’

Dyan smiled in return. ‘Not at all. As the hirer you have the right to ask any questions you want.’

‘I have?’ His grey eyes met hers. ‘Then tell me: what is a nice girl like you doing in a job like this?’

She gave a gurgle of amused laughter. ‘That’s a long story.’ There was a knock on the door as the crewman returned. Quickly she rolled up the chart and stowed it with the others. ‘OK, Ed,’ she called out.

The sailor came in and took his seat at the radar screen. Dyan indicated the office and said to Oliver, ‘I’ll leave you to make your call.’

She went up on deck, to the area which the crew used to relax and sunbathe. Most of them sprawled out on the deck itself, lying or sitting on towels as they sunbathed or played cards. Dyan, though, merited one of the deckchairs and she stretched out on it with a magazine.

Russ saw her from the bridge and came down to join her, a couple of cans of beer in his hands. He gave her one and said, ‘Where’s the landlubber?’

‘Phoning London. Checking on the captain of the boat we’re looking for.’

He nodded. ‘What do you think of this guy?’