“For… for saving me.” I look down. “I didn’t realise how strong the currents were. I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there.”
“You don’t need to thank me. Although maybe you’ll let me buy you a new swimsuit?”
“Oh God.” I cover my face with my hands, peeping at him between my fingers. “I swear I didn’t mean to flash you. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he says. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He picks up his menu, scanning it. “They’ve got great food here, especially the chicken. Order whatever you like. I do recommend the breast.” He winks at me.
My hands drop, my mouth falling open in outrage. Then I see the funny side and start to giggle. I think of Eloise and laugh even harder. He chuckles, his grey gaze softening, his stern expression transformed. And for a moment it’s really comfortable, as though we’ve known each other for ever. Our eyes meet, and he holds my gaze as my giggles die out, replaced by something deeper, a warmth inside me. I feel as though I’m stepping off a cliff again, the way I did in his office when I agreed to come here.
“I didn’t think it would be like this.” The words come out before I can stop them. I wish I could bite out my tongue.
“You didn’t think what would be like this?” He’s utterly serious now, and there’s tension in him, as though my answer is important.
“Uh, Morocco,” I say, looking away. I know, I’m a coward, but I’m also way out of my depth. “It’s beautiful. Look at this view.”
The sky outside is changing colour, pink and gold and blue, reflected in the waves rippling into shore. I glance back at Myles. He’s still looking at me.
“Hello and good evening. What can I get you to drink, madame?”
A waiter has come to the table, thank heaven. But I’m so flustered I don’t know what to order. “Um, champagne?” I say, my voice getting higher at the end of the sentence, like it’s a question. But champagne feels like the easiest choice. I don’t really like it, but at least it will calm my nerves.
“And for you, sir?”
“Mineral water, please.” Myles nods at the waiter. “We need a moment more with the menus, though.”
“Of course.” The waiter rushes off.
I stare down at the table, at the frayed edges of the blue placemat, the metallic sheen of the cutlery. I don’t know why, but I feel as though I’ve done the wrong thing.
“Everything all right?”
I look up. Myles is leaning back, casual, one arm outstretched along the back of the bench seat, his shirt pulled tight against his impressive chest. Despite his relaxed posture his gaze on me is intense, his eyes slightly narrowed, a smile hovering around his lips. I want to kiss them, I realise, with a shock. God, I hope the waiter returns with my champagne soon. Or maybe I should have coffee. Or just run out of here, screaming. I’m so far out of my depth I can’t even see the shore.
I realise he’s still waiting for an answer, and I blurt out the first thing that comes to me. “Don’t you like champagne?”
He just smiles. “I don’t drink alcohol,” he says. “But don’t let me stop you.”
Oh God. I wish the floor would open up and swallow me. Or this nice restaurant somehow slide into the ocean, burying me so deep no one will ever find me again. I stare out at the shimmering ocean, wishing for a tidal wave or a meteor or something. Of course I know he doesn’t drink. He’d specifically asked for no alcohol in all of his accommodation on the trip. But my brain seems to have gone AWOL and I’ve forgotten everything I should be remembering.
“It’s fine.” His hand covers mine where it rests on the table, just for a moment. I flinch, unable to help my reaction to the heat of his skin. “It’s just something I don’t do anymore.”
“Anymore?” My God. My mouth just won’t stop saying things I don’t want it to. But there’s an inflection in the way he says the word, something that intrigues me. Still… “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
The waiter returns with my champagne and Myles’s mineral water, placing them on the table. Myles and I stare at each other, something building in the air between us.
“Are you ready to order?” The waiter, bless his heart, is starting to look worried. Myles breaks the stare first, picking up his menu.
“Do you know what you want?”
I shake my head. I don’t even think I can read the menu. I am beyond flustered. I try to think of a word that is beyond flustered. Chaotic? Unconscious? Flusterfuck?
“I’ll order for us both, then. Is that all right?”
I nod. My mouth, which couldn’t stop saying stupid things a moment before, now seems to have lost the power to answer reasonable questions.
Myles orders, then hands both our menus to the waiter. One corner of his mouth keeps tugging up as though a smile is fighting to get out, like the sun peeping from behind a cloud. Oh God. He’s laughing at me.
I pick up my champagne, then put it down again.
