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
