Page 49 of Escape to the Sun

Louis had messaged her to come straight to the bridge. She arrived to see him issuing instructions and answering questions for a junior member of the team. The fluttering in the base of her stomach when he saw her, the smile she’d grown accustomed to as he wandered across to greet her – that couldn’t be wrong, could it? And if it was wrong, she didn’t particularly want to be right.

‘Two minutes?’ he said.

‘No problem,’ she said, revelling in his gaze and the touch of his fingers against hers as he gave them a brief squeeze before continuing his checks. Hannah looked around for Portus, noticing him in his usual sentinel position on the stool by the window.

She headed across to him, appreciated the positive greeting of a yowly purr, the way he rubbed the edges of his whiskers against the hand she offered him.

‘Has Millie been spoiling you?’ she said.

The cat stood, tail on end as he assessed her.

‘Are you expecting me to get you something?’ she asked with a grin and was rewarded by a loud meow.

‘He’s having such a great trip,’ Louis said, appearing at her shoulder and reaching across to rub at the crown of Portus’ head. ‘Never usually gets this much fuss. Mind you, nor do I.’ Louis’ voice dipped as he added, ‘We’re both loving it.’

Hannah stifled a laugh, tipping her chin up to look at him. Struggled to remember, in that moment, that they were in a public place and she couldn’t simply stand up on tiptoes and kiss him.

‘Ready to go?’ he said.

They found a nook at the far end of a quiet Crow’s Nest and ordered a couple of ‘Angel Gabriel’s ginger beers’.

‘I wanted to ask if you have plans yet for St Lucia tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘I’ve never had such an unplanned Christmas Day in my life. I did think I might see if Millie wants to go snorkelling – apart from that, nothing is set in stone. I haven’t mentioned it to Millie yet, after what happened at the beach yesterday.’

Louis grimaced. ‘No. Poor kid. Cramp is so painful. But she’s all good today, I hope?’

‘Yes. Completely recovered.’

He flashed her a bright smile, his hand reaching for hers, briefly lacing their fingers together. He’d done the same thing in bed the night before, right before she’d… Hannah swallowed, bright pinpricks of heat flaming in her cheeks.

His smile dropped away, his expression becoming intense, his focus on her absolute.

‘I can’t quite believe this is happening,’ he said. ‘You were the last thing I was expecting on this cruise.’

Hannah gave a wry smile. ‘Yeah. I had other plans, too. Good job they didn’t work out.’

He leant across to kiss her, momentary and featherlight and filling her with fire.

‘I can have most of the day on shore tomorrow. We’re sailing past the Pitons tomorrow evening, while we have the Captain’s Christmas Dinner – so I’m officially on duty then, even though the bridge team will be doing the sailing. But the day can be my own, once we’re safely docked. I’m all yours, if you want.’

Hannah frowned, wishing he would stop saying things that made the base of her stomach do peculiar things.

‘Or not, whatever you prefer,’ he said, misinterpreting her expression.

She shook her head. ‘No – I’d love to spend time with you tomorrow. Sorry, it’s just that every time you say something like that, my brain does the smuttiest thing possible with it.’

‘Say what?’ Louis’ face scrunched into a smile. ‘What… “I’m all yours” – you mean that?’

Hannah nodded, biting her lip between her teeth as she tried to stop herself from blushing even harder.

‘Well, I am,’ he said, his voice husky and low as he added, ‘So, what do you want to do with me?’

Ruth was struggling to understand the magnitude of coincidence required for Teddy to be on the same Caribbean island as her after – God, how long had it been. Thirty years…? Had to be. What was that line from that film, the one about of all the bars in all the towns, or something like that. Change that to art galleries and cruises, and it fitted the bill perfectly.

He looked well. More than that – Teddy looked the same as he had the last time she’d seen him. Bits of grey showed in his otherwise dark hair, and he now wore glasses – that was different – but the rest was just how she remembered him. Crow’s feet radiating out from eyes that glittered whenever he spoke. A high widow’s peak in hair whose style basically hadn’t changed in thirty years – always classic and remaining so. Ruth felt a pang of memory – her friends used to say he was boring. But they’d never known him like she had.

He wore a short-sleeved button-through shirt, pale blue and matched with chino shorts and a pair of sandals revealing the scar radiating up from his big toe earned when he’d decided to DIY a set of shelves in her mother’s house. A disastrous attempt at currying favour with a suspicious potential mother-in-law who had already decided they were far too young for marriage, which in turn ended with a trip to A&E when the electric saw slipped and he had a go at taking part of his foot off.