that came, fashionably, to just above her ankles. She had a cardigan to match the jumper, a black leather bag, and pale grey leather flatties.
He also wore jeans, with a denim shirt, and he slung a leather jacket into the back of the Aston Martin.
They didn’t say much as he negotiated the traffic out of Sydney—with decorum, she noted, and relaxed somewhat—and headed west. Once they were beyond Penriththe road started to climb—and the Blue Mountains started to live up to their name.
Liz had read somewhere that their distinctive blue haze was the result of the release of oils into the air from the forests of eucalypts that cloaked their slopes. She’d further read, though, that they were not so much mountains but the rugged ramparts, scored and slashed with gullies and ravines, of a vast plateau.
Whatever, she thought, as the powerful vehicle chewed up the kilometres effortlessly and the road got steeper, they were awe-inspiring and yet somehow secretive at the same time, cloaked in their blue haze. And indeed they had proved to be. Until 1994 they’d kept in their remote and isolated valleys the secret of the Wollemi pine—a living fossil said to date back to Gondwana and the time of the dinosaur.
It was when they’d almost reached their destination that he said out of the blue, ‘What’s your next assignment, Liz?’
She grimaced. ‘I don’t have one yet. But I’m sure something will come up,’ she added. ‘It’s just hard to predict at times.’
‘How will you manage if something doesn’t come up for some time?’
Liz moved restlessly. ‘I’ll be fine.’ She paused, then cast him a cool little look. ‘Please, I do appreciate your concern, but I think it’s best left alone. I’ll be gone in a couple of days and it’s difficult for me—for both of us, probably—to remain professional if this keeps cropping up between us.’
‘Professional?’ He drove for a mile or so. ‘That flewout of the window, in a manner of speaking, before any of
this
“cropped up”.’
Liz frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
He took his eyes off the road to look at her just long enough for her to see the irony in his eyes. ‘Narelle was right. We’re not cut out to be only employer and employee. There is, Ms Montrose, not to put too fine a point on it, a kind of electricity between us that started to sizzle right here in this car outside my house almost two weeks ago. Or perhaps even earlier—that day in the office when you put on your magic coat and let down your hair.’
CHAPTER FOUR
L IZ’S MOUTH fell open.
‘And it continued the next morning in the lift,’ he added, as he changed gear and they swept round a corner. ‘In fact it’s never gone away—despite your best efforts to kill it stone-dead.’
It struck Liz that they had driven through the pretty village of Leura with her barely noticing it, and were now on a country road. It also struck her that it was impossible to refute his claim.
She stared down at her hands. ‘Look,’ she said, barely audibly, ‘you’d be mad to want to get involved with me. And vice versa.’
Out of the corner of her eye she saw that crooked grin come and go before he said, ‘It doesn’t work that way.’
‘If we’re two sane adults, it should,’ she replied coolly. ‘You can make choices, can’t you?’
He changed gear again and slowed down. ‘On the virtually nothing we have to go on? It’d be like a stab in the dark.’ He turned the wheel and they coasted into a driveway barred by a pair of tall wrought-iron gates.
‘Is this it?’ Liz asked.
‘This is it.’ He pressed a buzzer mounted on the dashboard and the gates started to open. ‘Welcome to Yewarra, Liz.’
For a moment Liz felt like escaping—escaping his car, his estate and Cam Hillier himself. She fleetingly felt overburdened, and as if she were entering a zone she had no control over.
Moments later, however, she was enchanted as he drove slowly up the gravelled
He also wore jeans, with a denim shirt, and he slung a leather jacket into the back of the Aston Martin.
They didn’t say much as he negotiated the traffic out of Sydney—with decorum, she noted, and relaxed somewhat—and headed west. Once they were beyond Penriththe road started to climb—and the Blue Mountains started to live up to their name.
Liz had read somewhere that their distinctive blue haze was the result of the release of oils into the air from the forests of eucalypts that cloaked their slopes. She’d further read, though, that they were not so much mountains but the rugged ramparts, scored and slashed with gullies and ravines, of a vast plateau.
Whatever, she thought, as the powerful vehicle chewed up the kilometres effortlessly and the road got steeper, they were awe-inspiring and yet somehow secretive at the same time, cloaked in their blue haze. And indeed they had proved to be. Until 1994 they’d kept in their remote and isolated valleys the secret of the Wollemi pine—a living fossil said to date back to Gondwana and the time of the dinosaur.
It was when they’d almost reached their destination that he said out of the blue, ‘What’s your next assignment, Liz?’
She grimaced. ‘I don’t have one yet. But I’m sure something will come up,’ she added. ‘It’s just hard to predict at times.’
‘How will you manage if something doesn’t come up for some time?’
Liz moved restlessly. ‘I’ll be fine.’ She paused, then cast him a cool little look. ‘Please, I do appreciate your concern, but I think it’s best left alone. I’ll be gone in a couple of days and it’s difficult for me—for both of us, probably—to remain professional if this keeps cropping up between us.’
‘Professional?’ He drove for a mile or so. ‘That flewout of the window, in a manner of speaking, before any of
this
“cropped up”.’
Liz frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
He took his eyes off the road to look at her just long enough for her to see the irony in his eyes. ‘Narelle was right. We’re not cut out to be only employer and employee. There is, Ms Montrose, not to put too fine a point on it, a kind of electricity between us that started to sizzle right here in this car outside my house almost two weeks ago. Or perhaps even earlier—that day in the office when you put on your magic coat and let down your hair.’
CHAPTER FOUR
L IZ’S MOUTH fell open.
‘And it continued the next morning in the lift,’ he added, as he changed gear and they swept round a corner. ‘In fact it’s never gone away—despite your best efforts to kill it stone-dead.’
It struck Liz that they had driven through the pretty village of Leura with her barely noticing it, and were now on a country road. It also struck her that it was impossible to refute his claim.
She stared down at her hands. ‘Look,’ she said, barely audibly, ‘you’d be mad to want to get involved with me. And vice versa.’
Out of the corner of her eye she saw that crooked grin come and go before he said, ‘It doesn’t work that way.’
‘If we’re two sane adults, it should,’ she replied coolly. ‘You can make choices, can’t you?’
He changed gear again and slowed down. ‘On the virtually nothing we have to go on? It’d be like a stab in the dark.’ He turned the wheel and they coasted into a driveway barred by a pair of tall wrought-iron gates.
‘Is this it?’ Liz asked.
‘This is it.’ He pressed a buzzer mounted on the dashboard and the gates started to open. ‘Welcome to Yewarra, Liz.’
For a moment Liz felt like escaping—escaping his car, his estate and Cam Hillier himself. She fleetingly felt overburdened, and as if she were entering a zone she had no control over.
Moments later, however, she was enchanted as he drove slowly up the gravelled
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