Page 29 of The Wedding Proposal
Lucas lengthened his stride to keep up with Elle. She stared straight ahead, outrage in her every line.
He had to hide a smile. Elle, so full of secrets, was annoyed that he hadn’t told her he’d decided to take up the invitation to the party.
Today had been his rest day and he’d been fidgety. Reluctant to hang around the boat, he’d walked into Sliema, then up Tower Road to Ghar id-Dud, where steps led down onto the rocky foreshore that was strewn with tourists like sausages on a giant barbecue.
He loved strolling across the rocks, pausing to look into the pools where hermit crabs picked their way from nook to cranny. When the glare of the sun began to make his head ache, he threw off his T-shirt and dived into the waves, first shaking off his fidgets with a fast crawl, then floating on his back and watching the occasional clouds in the intense blue sky.
After, with no towel or change of clothes, he let the sun dry him, his mind absently circling the conundrum that was Elle.
For his sanity, he had to put her behind him — easier said than done when they were trapped together on the boat and, whether she was hot and tired or freshly groomed, she looked fantastic.
Life would be easier if he had no burning need to understand what went on in her head. It was as if he’d put down a cryptic crossword with the last few clues unsolved, the necessity to know the answers gnawing at him. He wished that satisfaction were as simple as buying the next day’s paper and turning to the solution.
He was pretty sure that allowing Elle to put distance between them as she had last night wasn’t the way to satisfy his curiosity. But spending more time with her? That might do it. He might gain her confidence.
Failing that, he might just irritate the answers out of her.
Just striding along beside her now seemed to be giving him a head start in the irritation stakes.
They reached the Seadancer and Elle marched up the gangplank ahead of Lucas and halted on the deck. ‘I suppose I’d better show you through to the saloon.’
‘Or I could find my own way.’ Her dress blew against her, neat and plain. Pale lemon bra straps peeked out beside its green fabric. When she’d worn the corporate plumage of a plain and sober suit she’d often compensated with satin and lace underwear in wild colours. It had been one of his little treats to discover the colours of the day. He wondered whether her knickers matched her bra, which, in his experience of women, indicated plans to show the underwear off. The thought tingled through him.
She sighed. ‘No. I’m here to help with the guests, and you’re a guest. Come on.’
He followed. He’d normally leap at a chance to look around a yacht this size but today his attention was all on the rear view of Elle. Her hair, plaited down the back of her head, dangled between her shoulder blades and pointed down at her behind as if inviting him to check it out. Nice.
‘Here’s Lucas,’ she announced as she preceded him into a spacious saloon with its doors to the foredeck flung open. He tore his gaze from her behind. Only a couple of guests had so far arrived and Davie was helping them to champagne in tall frosted flutes.
‘Oh.’ Loz bit her lip.
‘Right.’ Davie’s hand halted in mid-air.
Lucas tried to charm them out of their obvious dismay. ‘Thanks again for the invitation. I couldn’t resist the temptation to see your fantastic yacht. I hope you don’t mind that I’m one of the first but I thought I might as well walk along with Elle.’
Elle turned her back on him. ‘Do you want me in the galley, Loz?’
‘Have a glass of bubbles first. Nothing for you to do, yet.’ Davie put a glass in her hand, lifting his own to clink with her. Then, making it an obvious afterthought, added, ‘Champagne for you, Lucas?’
‘Great.’ Once the glass was in his hand he found himself looking at three turned backs, Elle’s, Loz’s and Davie’s. The charm wasn’t working.
So maybe being irritating was more his forte. He crossed to the other guests, hovering on the steps between the saloon and the foredeck. ‘I’m Lucas Rose. I live with Elle.’
* * *
‘Did you think you were funny, tonight, telling people that we’re living together?’ Elle led the march back under the lamps along the deserted quayside to the Shady Lady. Behind them the party was still going, but the eating and the heaviest of the drinking had wound down. Having cleared everything she could and left the dishwasher empty in case Loz and Davie were tempted to reload, Elle had called it a night at midnight. She was working at Nicholas Centre in the morning.
Lucas dug his hands in his pockets. ‘But we are living together.’
‘We’re sharing. That’s not the same as “living together”.’
‘But it’s what you told that Oscar dude.’
‘Purely an Oscar-avoidance tactic, as you know very well.’
‘So we should only be honest when it’s convenient?’
She glared at his profile. ‘You and the Great God Honesty.’
