Page 48 of The Wedding Proposal
He went along with it. ‘Don’t know. What the difference between a woman and a dog?’
‘It’s easier to find a nice dog.’ She laughed, rising slightly unsteadily.
His eyes followed her. ‘I would have thought you’d tell that joke against men.’
‘About a man . . . it’s a crocodile.’ And this time she made it through the door and out of sight.
Charlie and Kayleigh hovered. ‘We’re still talking to you, too,’ Charlie confirmed kindly.
Unwillingly, Lucas smiled. ‘Good to know.’ The two brothers gazed at each other.
After a moment, Kayleigh said, tactfully, ‘I’ll go see if Elle’s all right.’
Charlie sat down next to Lucas. ‘She’s been OK. Kayleigh rang her to find out where she was and we stayed with her most of the day. We did some retail therapy in a glitzy shopping mall.’ He pointed vaguely towards Sliema. ‘Then we went for ice cream and drinks, which sort of segued into dinner and drinks, and we happened to meet Loz and Davie wandering back in this direction, so Elle introduced us, and we all stopped at a bar for more drinks.’ Charlie sighed. ‘Why have you been such a dick?’
Lucas tipped his head back, closed his eyes. ‘I thought I’d try it. Everyone else seems to.’
‘Did you like it?’
Lucas shook his head. ‘Can’t see the attraction.’
Charlie hesitated. ‘Look, Lucas, I think Elle understands that what’s past is past, without you going to stupid lengths to show her that you want there to be no chance of you getting it on again. The water has gone under the bridge; you don’t have to piss in it.’
After Charlie had collected Kayleigh from Elle’s cabin and they’d disappeared along the waterfront in the direction of the hotel, Lucas sat for a long time out in the night air. The traffic had begun to thin and only a few stop-outs strolled beside the slack black water of the marina that flickered with reflected gold.
Of all the explanations for his deception that he’d puzzled over in the privacy of his cabin today, Charlie’s suggestion that it was to show Elle that there was no chance of them getting it on again hadn’t occurred to him.
He forced himself to consider it now.
But, eventually, he shook his head. No, that wasn’t it.
Chapter Fourteen
Elle wasn’t enjoying Loz’s dinner party.
She was grateful that Loz had invited her and knew the invitation had been issued at least partly to show Lucas that he wasn’t on the guest list, but it was impossible to forget her role as ‘the help’ even though Loz kept saying, ‘Elle, you’re not on the payroll this evening, you’re not to do a thing.’
Actually, with the others being depressingly coupley, drinking a lot more than Elle felt like drinking and then shrieking with laughter over coupley anecdotes, Elle would rather be clearing up the galley.
When she could find no more to do, she took her last half-glass of rosé out onto the aft deck to enjoy the quayside and the gardens.
The breeze was up and a slow swell had risen again, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Elle supposed she must have found her sea legs, even though she hadn’t actually been to sea, unless you counted a little potter around the harbours. She hadn’t done a lot of things she’d meant to do. Tomorrow, her day off, she’d put that right. She’d take a ferry to one of the sister islands in the Maltese archipelago, Gozo or Comino.
There would be at least three benefits. She could leave the party now, yawn and say it was time she went off to bed as she needed to be up early; she would be seeing new things and having new experiences, which was her mission; there would be little chance of crossing paths with Lucas.
But as she finished the last half-inch of wine and turned to go up to the foredeck to make her excuses, a movement beside a tree at the edge of the gardens caught her eye. She paused, pretending to look up the quayside for several seconds while she tried to decide whether she’d seen what she thought she’d seen.
Then she turned back.
The little person behind the tree was too slow to anticipate her and was in plain view for half a second before he pulled his head in.
Keeping her movements slow, twirling her wine glass between her fingers, she sauntered down the gangplank in the direction of the tree. ‘Carmelo! Bonswa. What are you doing out so late?’
Reluctantly, Carmelo detached himself from the shadows. Shrugging, he dug his hands into his pockets.
Elle saw tear tracks on his cheeks. Her heart twisted. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked gently. ‘Is something the matter?’
Silently, Carmelo shook his head which, as it could have been in response to either question, wasn’t helpful.
