Page 3

‘What happens to those babies in that crocodile nest?’ Romy had so many questions—when it should be Julian asking these things.

‘They’ll hatch and hang out with their mother for a bit.’ Stone sighed, peering back at the river, a note of pity lacing his voice. ‘Then it’s a fight for survival. Most won’t live to become juveniles.’

‘Why not? When you said they’re the top of the food chain.’

‘When they hatch, they’re tiny.’ Stone opened his palm to show the size of a baby crocodile.

‘They’re the perfect snack size for goannas, birds, fish, other crocodiles, and feral pigs.

Then, if they do mature, they’ll have to compete for their territory, which is often a fight to the death.

They do have a pecking order, just like their cousins, the farmhouse chickens. ’

She grinned at him. ‘Chicken? Is that some bad dad joke?’

‘No joke.’ Even though the corners of Stone’s lips curled, his striking hazel-coloured eyes shone with amusement. ‘The humble hen is a long-distant relative to the crocodile.’

‘How?’

‘They share the same ankle structure and even lay and protect their eggs the same way. Genetic research has proven, through their DNA, that they’re close relatives.’

‘You’re making that up.’ Julian pointed at Stone.

Stone’s gaze flicked between Romy and Julian. ‘Did you guys do any research before coming out here?’

Romy shrugged. ‘I’m hired to do the filming—not research. That’s the writer’s job.’ She peeked at her watch, realising why Stone wanted to leave. ‘Julian, you only paid for three hours.’ She held up her watch. ‘We’ve been out here for over four.’

‘We’re not done. We haven’t even set up your drone yet.’ Julian danced around the long grasses, obviously trying to not get dirty.

‘Not gonna happen, slick. These eggs need to be squirrelled away before the temperature changes too much.’

‘Can I come?’ She’d beg if she had to.

Stone regarded her for a moment with a look that was positively hypnotic. She couldn’t look away, until he slid on his sunglasses. ‘Cameras are prohibited in those places.’

‘I’ll put them away.’

‘You’ll be keeping them out and doing what I paid you to do, Romy Radford.’ Julian shoved his face right in front of her camera and scolded her like she was a child. ‘Remember who I am. I am the director. And you will tape my footage for this film or I’ll—’

‘Oi!’ Stone ripped off his sunglasses. ‘Careful, mate, you keep raising your voice like that at the lady and you’ll leave me with no choice but to raise mine. And I’m no opera singer, so I can guarantee you it will get ugly.’

Romy’s heart was hit with a flaming shot of heat over this guy—protecting her!

‘Are you threatening me?’ Julian blinked fast.

‘I’m telling you to watch your tone, fancy pants.’

‘I’m no fancy pants.’ Brushing down his shirt.

‘You’re no ray of sunshine, either.’ Stone narrowed his eyes at Julian. ‘Lemme guess, you’ve come out here, expecting her—’

‘Romy.’

‘Rrr-ooo-mee.’ Stone let her name seductively roll over his tongue as if he was tasting each syllable. ‘You came out here to film a documentary on crocodiles, when you haven’t even spent ten minutes researching them?’

Julian lifted his chin, amplifying his pompous attitude. ‘It’s none of your business what I do with this film.’

‘Actually, I’d like to know.’ As her job, Romy needed to know the details.

Julian’s glare was horrific, as he dabbed at his sweaty moustache that looked like a caterpillar had keeled over and fried in the sun.

‘You asked me to film the process of collecting crocodile eggs. That’s an extremely specific area, when there is so much more to these amazing creatures and this unique environment.’ She waved her arm at the epic scenery that surrounded them. ‘What is your angle for this documentary?’

‘It’d have to be unique because filmmakers have been coming out here for decades.

’ Stone leaned his strong shoulder against the helicopter’s shell.

‘Sorry, mate, but I don’t see you winning no film critics award for what you lot filmed today.

No offence to you, Romy.’ Stone even tipped his cap at her, all slow and deliberate, yet loaded with natural born charm—the kind that came with flirty trouble on its heels.

She had to give him a goofy smile. ‘None taken.’

Yet, Stone was right. She’d barely scratched the shiny surface of what they could film about these creatures.

‘So best we go, or your skin will start to look like strawberry jam on white toast when the mozzies are done with you two.’

‘Let’s go, Julian.’ She started unclipping herself from the gimbal.

‘No. I want you to—’

‘Our pilot is getting ready to leave. And I’ll film the ride back. I’m sure we can convince Stone to take the scenic route.’ She was still hoping to talk her way into getting a tour of that hatchery too. ‘We can always come back.’

‘Not with this cowboy.’

‘I think they’re all like that, Julian. Think about it. They practically wrestle with these dangerous creatures as their day job, so they’d have to be part crazy.’

Julian sighed, sliding his hands into his pristinely pressed slacks. ‘Very well. We’ll go back, and I’ll review your footage to see if I need more.’

‘I’ll review it first, thank you.’ She held her camera close to her chest.

‘Why?’

‘I own the film until you pay for it.’

‘I’m paying for your—’

She paused in the helicopter's shade. ‘My what?’ To get here she’d cashed in her frequent flyer points to land at Darwin’s airport at midnight. Then it was straight into Julian’s car for the long drive to Elsie Creek to meet Stone, the cheeky helicopter pilot, at dawn.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, while slurping from his coffee mug, the pilot gave them some regurgitated speech about hands and limbs must be kept inside the vehicle at all times , as he handed out headphones before climbing into his pilot’s seat.

Stone was then smart enough to wait until Julian handed over the cash before he let the helicopter blades spin, starting their tour with an epic outback sunrise.

From her backpack, Romy dragged out her water bottle and took a deep drink. ‘Are we staying somewhere in town tonight? Elsie Creek looked nice.’

‘I planned to drive back this afternoon,’ replied Julian.

‘I don’t think that’s wise. We’ve both been up since midnight.’

‘I’ve got a stash of caffeinated drinks in the car.’ Julian delicately picked his way through the tall grasses, while Romy trudged through the mud in her cargo pants and heavy boots.

‘How many documentaries have you directed?’

‘I’ve been a director for plenty of reality shows, where I’ve been honing my skills in creating drama and tension on the small screen.’

‘You do realise that documentaries cater to a niche market?’ They weren’t blockbusters filled with wannabe superstars faking it for five minutes of fame.

‘I’m catering to a different market.’

‘Which one?’ She narrowed her eyes at Julian. While seated in the pilot’s chair, Stone cleaned his sunnies—obviously listening.

Julian didn’t answer, he just strut right past her.

‘Hey, Julian.’ She grabbed his arm. ‘For me to effectively do my job—that you hired me for—I need to know your vision. I’m here to help you, remember?’

‘Of course.’ Julian sighed, dabbing a cloth at his sweaty moustache.

‘Well, I’m after a sensationalised documentary with a reality TV edge to it.

But one that focuses more on crocodile wranglers.

’ He nodded at Stone, who’d arched his eyebrows at them in surprise.

‘I want us to highlight the danger of The Journey from Swamp to Luxury .’

Now Stone frowned. Earlier, he may have scowled at her a few times for her safety, but this was a scary frown.

But then Romy blinked a few times, allowing that nugget of information to settle in. ‘You want us to stage action-packed scenes that exaggerate the dangers of crocodiles, just to create a thrill for the viewers?’

‘Yes. Exactly that.’ Julian patted her shoulder. ‘And you came highly recommended.’

Now she understood why Stone was ticked off, because Julian wanted to use the crocodile wrangler as croc bait while recklessly putting her at risk to film his documentary.

Not on her watch!

‘We’re only here to observe. That’s what I do. I watch, I film. I do not touch. And I certainly do not create situations for the animals to react to.’ Romy’s stomach churned with anger and disbelief at Julian’s reckless pursuit of sensationalism—it was everything she stood against.

‘What do you mean by swamp to luxury ?’ Stone’s voice had a lethal edge to it.

‘I think I’ve said enough for today. Let’s go.’ Julian climbed into the back of the helicopter. ‘Be sure to film everything on the journey back.’