Читать книгу The Secret Cove in Croatia - Julie Caplin - Страница 10

Now properly covered up, wearing her crew T-shirt and navy shorts, Maddie had taken herself off to the kitchen – sorry, galley – and was hacking a poor cucumber to death. If this pair of self-entitled dickheads were indicative of the guests, it was going to be a long trip.

She checked Tonka’s recipe and grabbed an onion, peeling back the golden skin. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to mix with the guests too much and they might not all be like Mr and Mrs We-know-we’re-gorgeous-and-that-means-we-can-do-what-the-hell-we-like. Nina’s brother, she consoled herself, wouldn’t be like that. In fact she was hoping he’d be an ally. This pair were everything she’d feared about this trip. Maddie was looking forward to meeting Nick; at least he wouldn’t have any airs and graces. You couldn’t get more down to earth than a northerner and a farmer at that.

Chopping and slicing soothed her and she kept a close eye on the time. When she finally heard voices and the clatter of footsteps and cases, she knew the rest of the guests had arrived. That was her signal and she dashed out to lay the canapés on the table in the bow, as per instruction in her handy bible.

Hearing people start to assemble on deck, she tucked the ice bucket and champagne under one arm and picked up a tray of glass flutes, holding it, somewhat precariously, in one hand and headed out to meet the guests. The manual said champagne on the first day, although she was dying to bring out one of Ivan’s demi-johns for a bit of Croatian authenticity.

As soon as she appeared on the deck, a woman with short bright red hair cut in a gamine pixie crop clapped her hands together. ‘Oooh, bring on the champers. The holiday has begun. Can I help you with that?’ She reached for the champagne bucket perched on the tray, carefully lifting it away from the six flutes.

‘Thanks,’ said Maddie, immediately warming to her and following her over to a table. ‘So not all the guests are complete knobs then.’

The woman let out a loud belly laugh and to Maddie’s horror she realised she’d said the words aloud.

‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.’

‘Not a problem.’ She winked at Maddie. ‘I like people who say it like it is. I’m Siri. And no, I don’t have the answer to everything.’

‘Ah, everyone, this is Maddie,’ announced Ivan, who now appeared to be wearing fancy dress.

Maddie bit back a laugh and looked down at her feet. She could bet that Tonka and Vesna would love the dashing naval officer look with the white shirt complete with black and gold epaulettes, a white peaked hat and white trousers. She suspected Zita, with her wicked sense of humour and more pragmatic approach, would have a lot more to say.

‘Hi everyone.’ She looked around at the faces, deliberately avoiding the gruesome twosome, as she’d now dubbed them, who were on the far side of the table. Four other people had joined the party, two men and two women, and Maddie took a minute trying to work out the relationships between them all. They looked unlikely couples. Seated nearest her, on the ends of the benches, were the two men, one tall, dark and the sort of movie star handsome that could make you go weak at the knees. It was probably no accident that his blue linen shirt brought out the depth of his dark blue eyes. He sat with his long legs out, crossed at the ankle, leaning back in his chair with an arrogant confidence as if he owned the place. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was as dark as Nina, she might have thought he was the man that had chartered the boat, but he had to be Nick.

‘Maddie is your hostess for the trip,’ explained Ivan. ‘She’ll be looking after your cabins, serving breakfast and lunch and dinner, and on those nights we’re not in moorings or too far from port, she’ll take you in on the launch.’

‘Hi, Maddie,’ said the man she assumed was Nick, in a deep and very smooth voice, with a charming friendly smile. Of course he was being friendly; he knew she was Nina’s friend. Maddie’s breath stalled in her chest as she turned to face him. Why hadn’t Nina warned her? But then she guessed Nina probably didn’t even notice and, if she was anything like Maddie, she thought of her brothers as nothing more than pains in the arse. Phew! Those eyes were amazing.

‘Can I help you with that?’ He took the bottle from her, his fingers brushing hers. Smooth. The corner of her mouth turned up; Nina’s brother was full of surprises. He gave her a warm smile and then put out his other hand. ‘Simon. Simon Beresford.’

‘S-Simon.’ Automatically she shook his hand, her brain whirling. ‘Hi,’ she said in a pathetic wheezy little voice.

She shot a look at the second guy, holding hands with the tall, slim woman next to him, who had a dark curtain of blue-black hair that hung in a perfect straight plumb line. So that was Nick. She remembered Nina saying he was going out with a model. With hair like that, the woman had to be a shampoo model at the very least. The thick lustrous locks glowed with health and vitality, which was a bit of a shame as they contrasted unfavourably with the thinning red-gold sandy hair of poor Nick, who was definitely on the losing side of the battle against baldness. Maddie pinched her lips to hide her surprise. Nick was no looker, although, despite his pudgy, pug-like face, there was something arresting about his hazel eyes which shone with bright enthusiasm as he looked round at everyone with eager beaver happiness.

In the meantime, Simon picked up the champagne bottle and with a deft twist undid the metal cage and removed the foil before removing the cork in a practised move which suggested he’d done it a time or two before. Not a drop was spilled and he handed the bottle to her with an easy smile.

‘Thank you; you have had some practice, then.’

‘Lots,’ he said, managing to make the single word sound suggestive.

She grinned at him and filled the glasses one by one, handing them out to Simon, who passed them back around the table.

‘Cheers everyone,’ said Nick in an unexpectedly plummy voice, lifting his glass. ‘To a bon voyage. May all who sail in this vessel have a jolly good time … and if you don’t, I don’t want to know.’ He took an enthusiastic swig of his drink, beaming from ear to ear. ‘Because this boat cost a ton of cash to hire, so anyone that doesn’t enjoy themselves will have to walk the plank. Happy holidays.’

‘Oh, Douglas,’ scolded his girlfriend, pulling her hand away.

Douglas! Maddie blinked, completely confused, and realised she’d mouthed his name. If he was Douglas … No, no way. Maddie shot the man in the far corner a surprised look which, unfortunately, he happened to look up and catch at exactly the wrong moment. He lifted a sardonic eyebrow and she hastily looked away.

He was Nick! And by the look on his face, he knew she’d realised who he was at that very minute. She shook her head slightly and he lifted his champagne glass in a mocking toast.

‘You can be so crass sometimes.’ Douglas’s girlfriend was still scolding him.

‘What?’ he asked with a crestfallen expression.

‘Nothing,’ she said, pursing her lips and sipping at her champagne.

Simon and Siri lifted their glasses, repeating, ‘Happy holidays.’

‘Sorry, m’dear, I should have done proper introductions. I’m Douglas and,’ he added rather proudly, ‘I chartered the boat.’

‘I think we all know that,’ muttered his disgruntled girlfriend.

Ignoring her, he carried on making the introductions. ‘This is my girlfriend, Cory.’ The girl with the blue-black hair nodded politely, her eyes a little vacant as if she were miles away.

‘And over there, that’s Tara and Nick and this is Siri, my sort of cousin.’ He shot her a warm smile.

Siri nodded, while Tara, who was now talking to Cory, didn’t even look up and Nick stared with complete disinterest, away out across the sea.

‘Lovely to meet you all,’ said Maddie. ‘I hope you have a great trip.’

‘I’m sure we will,’ said Douglas. ‘I’ve just briefed Ivan on our course for the next two and a half weeks –’ he tapped at one of the charts on the table ‘– and we’re going to have an excellent time, island-hopping and partying.’

‘I’m sure you’re going to have a wonderful time. Now, would anyone like some canapés?’

‘Lord, yes, I’m absolutely starving,’ said Douglas. ‘And what time is dinner? The girls will want to freshen up, if I know them.’

‘What time would you like it?’ asked Maddie.

‘Cory, Tara, what time would suit you ladies?’

Tara frowned thoughtfully. ‘Well, if I change for dinner, I’m not going to be ready before nine.’

‘Me neither,’ said Cory.

‘Nine?’ Nick looked ill at ease. Serves him right, thought Maddie; he deserved his picky girlfriend.

‘Tara, darling,’ drawled Simon. ‘You don’t need to stand on ceremony with us. Some of us are bloody starving. An airline lunch just doesn’t cut it.’

‘Nine is a little bit late,’ said Douglas apologetically. ‘And we barely ate a thing on the plane.’

‘You had a sandwich and that packet of shortbread biscuits,’ countered Cory, looking quite indignant.

‘That is not proper sustenance,’ announced Simon and Douglas gave him an obliging look.

What a bunch of hen-pecked wusses, thought Maddie.

‘I’m always hungry,’ announced Siri. ‘Let’s eat at seven-thirty.’

Thank goodness for someone decisive.

‘Done,’ said Douglas fervently.

Maddie beat a hasty retreat before anyone could change their mind.

‘You don’t mind, do you, Nicky darling?’ asked Tara, laying a hand on his chest. ‘But I really need my sleep, otherwise I get the most horrendous bags under my eyes. Poor Cory says that Douglas snores and keeps her awake half the night. Not, of course, that you would snore, but I just find it difficult to share a bed.’

‘It’s not a problem,’ said Nick, taking her hand. ‘Besides, I’m not sure I’d fit in a cabin with all your clothes.’

‘Uh …’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Can you believe it? There’s nowhere to hang anything. I don’t know how I’m going to manage.’ She looked at the slim gold watch on her wrist. ‘It’s so tiresome to have to eat so early. The Spanish know how to do it. When we were in Barcelona last year we never ate before ten.’

‘Well, I for one am very grateful that we’re not in Spain,’ said Nick. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Lucky you have such a good metabolism.’ She ran a suggestive hand down his chest. ‘And such delicious abs,’ she added with a naughty expression.

He lowered his head to kiss her, wrapping his arms round her. Touching her lips with his, he pulled her tiny frame closer, conscious as always that she was so delicate. For a second she kissed him back, with a little murmur, and he deepened the kiss, pushing his hands into her hair, stroking the back of her neck. She leaned into him, her hips grazing his thighs, which made his blood start to race.

‘Mmm,’ she said, and then pulled away, immediately smoothing her hair back into place. ‘As the men have decreed an early dinner, I’ve hardly got any time to get ready.’

‘Tara, you look perfect. You always do.’ He pushed her glorious hair back and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. She squirmed, smiling up at him. ‘Nicky, stop tempting me. I have to get ready.’

Knowing it was useless to argue – Tara redefined the word stubborn – he pushed back the ungallant thought that he hadn’t actually ever managed to tempt her.

‘OK, I’ll see you at dinner.’

She pouted. ‘Aren’t you going to knock for me?’

He laughed. ‘If you really want me to, but as my cabin is on the main deck we might as well meet at dinner.’

‘All right then.’ She turned and flounced into her room.

With a wry smile, Nick made his way up to his own cabin. There was no doubt that Tara knew her own mind. That was admirable, wasn’t it?