Saved by Their One-Night Baby

by Louisa George

  It wasn’t just his physical appeal, there was a connection that felt like that thick coil of rope tugging her to him, and resisting it was exhausting.

  Well, she’d just have to be exhausted, because she wasn’t prepared to put everything on the line for him. She’d almost given up her freedom for one man and she wasn’t going to jeopardise it again now that she actually had it.

  Still, there was no problem with window-shopping. The man was gorgeous to watch.

  And kiss.

  See? Exhausting.

  Akil said something and both men laughed. As Ethan tipped his head back he turned and caught her watching him.

  Oops. She snapped her book up in front of her face, but that didn’t stop the hairs on her arms prickling. He was coming over and she felt as giddy as a schoolgirl with her first crush.

  ‘Hey. Claire.’ The sun was directly behind him and as he was shadowed she couldn’t see his face. But she didn’t have to look at him to know the finer details of his skin; she had them burnt into her memory along with the sharpness of his cheekbones, the dazzling eyes, that reluctant smile.

  She put her book down as her heart gave its regulation Ethan leap. ‘Oh. Hi. I didn’t see you there. Beautiful day.’

  ‘Nice to have a few days’ respite and enjoy the ride for a change.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘Where do you fancy going today?’

  ‘I’m not sure I need to go anywhere right now, thank you.’ She laughed and pointed to the expanse of calm blue sea stretching behind them, further than the horizon. In their brief evening talks when the ship had pitched and rolled until they’d both turned green, they’d ‘virtually’ visited the deserts in Rajasthan and the cool interior of the Taj Mahal, snorkelled on the Great Barrier reef and had a quick sojourn to the Amazon River.

  But Ethan hadn’t actually been there in real life so they’d just made details up, which had made it even more fun because they’d started off serious and had dissolved into silliness and fantasy and play that had made them completely forget about the sea and the sickness. ‘It’s actually starting to be pleasant on here.’

  ‘So you don’t fancy a quick trip to Naples?’

  ‘Oh, Neapolitan pizza, yes, please. Anything’s better than the food on here. Can we pretend it’s a sunny day in July too? The wind’s just a little too cold for me right now.’

  ‘How about a sunny day in early May?’ He grinned. ‘Seriously, I heard we’re going to have a quick stopover in Naples.’

  ‘For real? You’re not pretending?’ The seasickness that had dogged her at the beginning of the trip had gradually eased, but lately it had come back, not as fiercely as before but enough to make her feel queasy. Time on shore would be brilliant.

  He shook his head. ‘We’re stocking up on supplies and Freja’s meeting us there to come back on board. Rumour has it we get a few hours on shore. So real pizza.’

  ‘Oh, amazing! And red wine.’ But even as she said it Claire’s stomach tumbled at the thought. Strange...she usually loved red wine. Perhaps a digestif would settle things. ‘Maybe Aperol.’

  ‘And gelato.’ His eyes widened greedily. ‘The ice cream in Khartoum is pretty average.’

  Fatima wandered out from the bridge, securing her hijab round her neck. ‘Did I hear the words pizza and gelato? Count me in, I know the best places for authentic Italian food. Akil will come too, if he can get the time off. He loves ice cream, and let’s bring Kristina, I’m sure she’d like a break.’

  ‘Pizza and ice cream. Excellent. A party!’ Claire jumped up and turned towards the bow of the ship, inhaling in surprise. There in the distance were the umber and cream stone port buildings, overlooked by an imposing castle on a hill. The mighty volcano Vesuvius loomed large to the right, and between there and SOS Poseidon were lots of little white yachts. ‘Oh, my goodness, I never thought I’d be this excited to see dry land.’

  * * *

  Although getting used to walking on tarmac was an altogether different prospect as she stepped off the gangway and waited for her brain to catch up with her body. Her legs were shaky and she had to concentrate to put one foot in front of the other. That hint of nausea still laced her gut. ‘Is there such a thing as ship lag? Like jet lag but from ships? I feel like I’m drunk!’

  ‘Hopefully we will be soon.’ Kristina laughed. ‘It is so good to be off the ship, right?’

  ‘It will be when I can walk properly.’ Claire giggled. ‘Such a shame the others have to stay on board while we get to play.’

  Kristina looked back at the vessel and at Chase, who was standing on deck, waving them off, and her smile grew wistful. Claire could tell there was something interesting going on between them; they circled each other from a distance but Claire noticed there was a certain amount of care taken between them when talking. Kristina’s smile was a little sad as she waved. ‘Yes. A break for all of us would be nice.’

  Claire noticed Ethan looking at Chase too, but his expression was less interested, more pensive and she wondered what the heck the tie was that bound them. Which was a foolish thing to wonder because after the other day when she’d almost kissed Ethan again she’d vowed to keep her distance and that had to mean in thought as well as proximity. Fatima looped her arm into Claire’s and Kristina took the other side as they wobbled up towards Fatima’s favourite food street.

  But they weren’t the only visitors to have had the same plan to visit Naples’s best pizza restaurant, and the narrow cobbled street was packed with tourists all jostling for a table. Fatima sighed and stood at the end of the long queue. ‘I know a good trick. The wait is usually around thirty minutes this time of day, so a group of us can stay in the line here while some go to the kiosk next door and buy some beers.’

  ‘I’ll go.’ Both Claire and Ethan spoke at the same time.

  ‘Excellent.’ Fatima clapped. ‘We’ll wait. Large, cold beers for everyone, please.’

  The queue for the beer wasn’t much shorter, but luckily they were on the sunny side of the street and Claire basked in the rays while she looked at the multicoloured tall buildings that lined the winding street. On a balcony further down a man was singing opera into a microphone to the enjoyment of everyone below. When he finished he winched down a large bucket for the spectators to pay him tips—of which there were many.

  ‘Opera and pizza, could it be any more Italian?’ She laughed, glad to keep the conversation strictly non-personal, and Ethan seemed happy to do the same, which was a relief. All she wanted was to start feeling normal again, and to have some fun.

  Eventually the beers arrived and they wandered back to the group. Or to where the group had been standing, but now they were gone. Ethan frowned. ‘Where did they go?’

  ‘Are they inside? Wait here.’ Claire pushed forward and tried to speak in her best Italian to the swamped restaurant host but he shook his head and said he didn’t understand. She nudged her way back, trying not to spill the beer in her hands, and found Ethan. ‘They won’t let me in to look. Hold these beers while I check my messages.’ She checked her phone. ‘No. Nothing from any of them. I’ll call them.’

  She called Fatima, and then Kristina and Akil. No reply. ‘The reception’s not very good. What shall we do?’

  ‘We can put our names down on the list and hit the back of the queue again.’ Ethan sighed and didn’t look happy about that idea. ‘Or we can go somewhere else.’

  ‘I’m hungry.’ In actual fact her belly had been alternating between starving and nausea for the last few days. ‘But I’m not bothered about drinking these.’

  ‘Okay. Neither am I.’ Ethan handed all their beers to a group of thirsty-looking Americans further down the line. ‘Let’s get out of this maelstrom and find somewhere quieter, otherwise we won’t get any pizza or ice cream before we have to be back on board. Let’s play tourist and wander the back streets, that’s usually where the best food is.’r />
  Which sounded lovely in principle, but went completely against their plan. Claire’s heart thumped at the prospect of a few stolen hours on her own with Ethan. It was like a delicious treat, and an exciting temptation. ‘Are we allowed to be out in public on our own?’

  He grinned. ‘Claire, look around. There are a few thousand people here who can act as chaperones. I think we’ll be safe.’

  She just hoped he was right.

  Or not...

  The back streets of Naples were quieter, although motor scooters zipped back and forth, navigating around people and the odd stray dog. Little cafés and pizzerias spilled onto the cobblestones; above them were windowsills bedecked with pots of scarlet geraniums interspersed with the Italian flag. It was a feast for the senses: cooking smells and bright flowers and the hum of regular everyday life that they’d missed on the ship.

  Keeping Claire’s comfort at the forefront of his mind, Ethan picked a restaurant that wasn’t overtly advertising to honeymooners. Although, considering he’d known her so intimately, he felt like a teenager on his first date. His heart was happy to be with her regardless of the restrictions they put on their relationship, and it was good to see her relaxing and not exhausted from work. They ordered all the things they’d been talking about—pizza and wine—and planned gelato for dessert. A band was playing in the bar next door, its lively tunes spilling into the early evening.

  ‘I love it here.’ Claire took a sip of the local red wine then put it down. ‘Not sure about the wine, though. I think I’ll stick to water.’

  ‘You okay? Don’t you like it? Do you want something different? White? Bubbles?’ He knew she liked Aperol and cognac but not what wine she drank or what food she liked. There was so much he didn’t know about her. They’d skipped that getting to know you part and succumbed to desire, clinging to each other for comfort and release and sex.

  Although it had been more than sex and they both knew it.

  ‘Water is fine. I’m just getting over my ship lag and still feel a little wobbly, so adding wine into the mix might be a recipe for disaster. I am, however, ready for this.’ She bit into the freshly made pizza that had a perfectly crispy crust, fresh mozzarella, slices of ripe tomato and shredded basil leaves. She pretended to swoon, her eyes rolling back a little in the same way they had when she’d been in the lift and reaching orgasm. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t erase that memory.

  She was also rocking the outfit she’d been wearing in the lift too. Too many memories from that skirt, and so much temptation. She groaned in delight. ‘Oh, wow, Ethan. I did not know pizza could ever taste this good.’

  ‘Eat your fill, we can always get more.’

  ‘I wonder what the others are getting up to.’ She giggled, wide-eyed. ‘Do you think they’ll suspect something?’

  ‘Suspect what exactly? They were the ones who left us stranded. We’re just having dinner in broad daylight.’

  ‘In a side street so no one can find us.’ Her eyes met his and they didn’t need to frame what they were doing.

  Excitement. Adventure.

  She licked her lips. And that simple action had him curling his hands into fists to stop him from pulling her into his arms.

  ‘Claire, you have no idea how much just looking at you turns me on. I mean...we can say that, right? We know there’s an attraction here, there’s no point in pretending there isn’t. We just have to work on stopping it. There is no way we can carry on like this on the ship. I’m going to explode with frustration.’

  ‘Okay, so how do we stop the attraction?’ She put down her pizza and smiled as if enjoying the effect she had on him. He liked it that she was growing in confidence and finding out what she liked, especially when what she liked was him. For now.

  ‘I’ll tell you my trigger points and you tell me yours and then we can make sure we don’t do them. For me it’s your mouth. And your eyes, and your...’ His eyes roamed her body and he tried not to think about how she’d felt in his arms. How good it had been to be inside her. He wasn’t sure this tactic was going to work, but he’d been honest when he’d said he was going to explode soon. Being around her was hell. And heaven. ‘Let’s just stick with your mouth. Please don’t lick your top lip.’

  ‘Like this?’ She ran her tongue slowly over her lips and laughed.

  His laugh was strangled by a hot surge of lust. ‘Exactly like that. Fair warning, Claire. It’s a trigger for me.’

  Her eyes glittered. ‘So no licking lips.’

  ‘No. Thank you.’

  She smiled and took a sip of water. Her tongue darted out and ran along her bottom lip.

  He inhaled deeply. ‘Claire, what part of don’t lick your lips do you not understand? You want me to explode right here?’

  ‘Sorry. Force of habit.’ She laughed. ‘Okay, my turn. Please don’t do that thing where you smile just a little bit, with one side of your mouth.’

  ‘You don’t want me to smile?’

  ‘Not the way you did when you were...’ She swallowed and fanned herself with the menu. ‘When we were...in the lift.’

  ‘Okay, no smiling.’

  ‘Half smiling. Or smelling so good.’

  He sniffed his underarm. All seemed fine. ‘You want me to smell bad?’

  ‘No, just don’t come too close because I love the way...’ Her cheeks turned almost the same colour as the potted geraniums. ‘Never mind. Right. Change the subject.’

  He was so turned on he was almost lost for words so he took a bite of food and focused on chewing.

  She picked up another piece of pizza and eyed it greedily before asking, ‘So what’s going on between you and Chase? Honestly, what’s the story there? I’ve been trying to fit the jigsaw pieces together, but I’m not sure I can. You guys had some sort of argument before you came on board or something?’

  ‘We go a long way back.’ This certainly wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. Rewind? Licking lips was a lot more fun.

  She frowned, pizza still in the air midway between her plate and her mouth. ‘I thought you said you didn’t know the guy.’

  ‘I barely do. I mean... I used to.’ He could talk about this. He could. It was just conversation, it didn’t need to probe any deeper. ‘I haven’t seen him for sixteen years but we were in the same ski squad together.’

  ‘Skiing? Mr Sunshine and Sand who thinks of Africa as home? You ski?’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘Why not?’ She put the half-eaten slice back on her plate and her eyes grew dark. ‘What? What is it? Why are you looking so...troubled? Why am I scared about what you’re going to say?’

  Would this make a difference to how she saw him? How she interacted with him and Chase? Hell, she could just as easily ask Chase for the details, although he got the feeling his old adversary wasn’t in the headspace for talking about their joint past any more than he was. He took a breath. ‘Remember I told you about the building that collapsed? It was a ski lodge and Chase and I were in it.’

  ‘How? Why did it collapse? I’ve been wanting to ask, but didn’t know how to or whether you’d want to talk about it.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Okay. That’s fine. But you need to talk to someone, probably Chase, because you both look so... Now I think about it, you both look sad. Haunted. And that’s not good for anyone.’ Her smile was soft and concerned. How easily she shaped her moods to him, as if she felt what he felt, or at the very least understood him on a deep level. ‘So if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s okay, but please talk to someone.’

  He’d been carrying this with him for so long it fitted him like a second skin and he’d thought no one had noticed, but if she had then others must have too. The last thing he wanted was a keep out sign on his forehead, especially in his line of work.

  ‘It was an avalanche that destroyed the building.
It was a long time ago.’ He tried to sound casual, as if every day since then hadn’t been some sort of penance for him.

  ‘Oh. Yes.’ She snapped her fingers, looking as if she was trying to remember something. ‘I heard about that. Boys on a trip...in a team. Some people died.’

  ‘Four.’ Why was he even telling her all this? He never talked about it.

  ‘And Chase? What happened to him?’

  So much black. And cold. ‘He pulled me out. He saved my life.’

  ‘Oh. Wow. That’s...that’s huge.’

  ‘Yes.’ He didn’t know what else to say. Couldn’t say much actually because of the thick weight in his throat that was spreading to his chest, making breathing difficult and his thoughts blurry. And all of a sudden he was there again in the suffocating dark and cold, with the crushing sensation in his thighs and his chest. And he wanted to flail out his arms and push off the feeling, but it was inside him. He sucked in air.

  Italy. Pizza. Claire.

  Sea air. Rock music. Claire.

  Italy. Pizza. Claire.

  Claire.

  She frowned. ‘I’m trying to remember the details. They had problems getting the rescue team there, a long delay, and there was a lot of media noise about it. Parents complained and some sued. There were court hearings and investigations. It was in all the French newspapers. Was that you?’

  ‘Suing and complaining? No. I didn’t want to think about it. No point blaming someone for an act of nature.’

  Somewhere during the conversation her hand had found his and she gripped it. ‘How long were you stuck in there?’

  ‘Hours. It felt like for ever. It was dark and cold and I was hypothermic with a beam on my chest and legs.’ He hung onto her hand. ‘It was tough, but Chase...well, he kept me sane and I owe him my life.’