All Night Long

‘Not long now,’ he said, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. ‘These guys are pretty efficient.’

Ally nodded, hoping she wouldn’t disgrace herself. She’d never flown in such a small aircraft before and, when Mike taxied to the end of the runway, she felt her stomach quiver.

But then they were moving, faster and faster, and in no time at all it seemed they were off the ground and soaring into the blue, blue sky. Nassau, and the island of New Providence, fell away below them and although she still felt a little nervous, her fears seemed foolish. Mike was obviously at home behind the controls and his enthusiasm was infectious.

‘Is that San Cristobál?’ she asked, after a few minutes, noticing another island on the horizon. But Mike shook his head.

‘Hell, no,’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s Andros. It’s the biggest island in the group. San Cristobál is one of the smallest.’

‘Oh.’

Ally grimaced and Mike grinned at her. ‘Hey, it was a reasonable question,’ he said. Then, pointing down, he added, ‘Can you see the reef? It runs the whole length of Andros. People come from all over the world to dive around the coral.’

‘Really?’

Ally gazed down, entranced, and forgot to be worried. There was so much more to see from this small plane than from the big jumbo that she’d flown in from London. She could see dozens of islands now, strung out like pearls across the ocean, and even the sails of larger yachts that were cruising the calm waters below them.

Her stomach tightened. Perhaps one of those yachts was owned by the company Raul worked for, she thought tensely. He’d said they chartered yachts all over the Caribbean, catering to the increasingly popular demand for sailing craft. She wished she’d asked him what the name of the company was. Although he probably wouldn’t have told her. A man who slept with a woman and then left before she woke up was hardly likely to leave his calling card.

She pressed her lips together. It was her own fault, of course. There was no point in blaming him for what had happened. It was she who’d let him buy her a drink; she who’d accepted his invitation to dinner. And it was she who’d invited him into her room for a nightcap, precipitating the events that had followed…

She shivered. It all seemed faintly unbelievable now, but it had happened. She had done all those things and more besides. If she was now regretting the whole affair, it served her right. She should have known better.

But, oh, nothing like that had ever happened to her before. All right, she’d been a fool, but she’d also been incredibly vulnerable. Had he guessed that she would have little defence against his practised charm? That, even though he was considerably younger than she was, she wasn’t more experienced? It wasn’t as if she’d led him on. Or not intentionally, she amended, with a grimace.

And yet, had it been such a bad experience? Ally sighed. If she was absolutely honest with herself she would have to admit that it hadn’t. In fact, it was probably because it had been so incredibly satisfying that she was feeling so hurt—so confused—now.

But what had she expected? That something more would come of it? That he might swear undying love for her on the basis of one good night’s sex? Come on, Ally, she chided herself inwardly. Grow up!

But she couldn’t prevent her mind from drifting back to the moment when they’d reached her door and the mistake she’d made by inviting him in…

‘I—want to thank you again,’ she began, fumbling in her bag for her key-card. ‘You’ve saved me from spending a rather anxious evening on my own. I’m not used to travelling alone, and I was feeling a little apprehensive.’

‘My pleasure,’ said Raul, taking the rescued key-card out of her hand and inserting it in the lock for her. The green light flashed and he smiled. ‘There you go.’

‘Thank you.’ Ally turned the handle and opened the door. She stepped inside and then glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Um—goodnight.’

‘Didn’t you forget something?’

Ally swallowed. Of course, she thought unhappily. He expected her to invite him in. That was why he’d offered to escort her to her door. All the rooms had mini-bars and he would know that. What could be more natural than to invite him in for a nightcap? It was the accepted thing to do. Or it would be if she had more confidence in herself.

And yet…

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, not looking at him, pretending to be intent on closing her handbag. ‘Er—I should have asked. Would you like to come in for a drink?’

Let him say no, she begged, forcing herself to turn and face him. And then her cheeks burned when she saw the key-card in his hand.

‘A drink?’ he echoed now, handing her the key-card, and she realised it hadn’t been his intention to invade her privacy. ‘Well, I—’

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ she broke in hurriedly, but she knew as soon as she spoke that she’d said the wrong thing. She sounded as if she might take offence if he refused, and, as if to endorse this thought, Raul inclined his head.

‘Why not?’ he said, stretching out an arm to press the door wider. His lips twisted. ‘We might as well end the evening as we began it. Please, go ahead.’

A maid had been into the room while she was at dinner and now the queen-size bed was turned down and a cellophane-wrapped chocolate had been placed on her pillow. In the lamplight, the room looked warm and personal and Ally’s tension increased in direct opposition to its implied intimacy.

The door closed behind her guest and, casting him a rather panic-stricken glance, she threw her handbag onto the bed and hastened towards the refrigerated cabinet. The cool air from inside was balm to her hot cheeks and she scanned its contents with anxious eyes, looking for a small bottle of single malt.

‘Whisky?’ she asked, finding what she was looking for and lifting it out. She closed the door of the cabinet with her hip and leaned back against it. ‘I’m afraid there doesn’t appear to be any ice.’

Raul had paused in the middle of the floor and was looking about him with some interest. But now he regarded her with considering eyes.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘In all honesty, I’ve probably drunk more than I should have anyway.’ He gave her a gentle smile. ‘But thanks for the offer.’

Ally shook her head. Conversely, now that he was rejecting the drink, she was disappointed. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘It’s no trouble, you know.’

Raul hesitated. ‘Well, if you insist…’

‘I’ll get a glass,’ she said, once again on the defensive. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’

There were glasses in the bathroom, she remembered with some relief, but she had to pass him to get to the bathroom door. Easing round him, she managed to reach her objective without embarrassing herself still further and she gratefully switched on the light. The fluorescent glow was reassuringly bright and she managed to unscrew the cap and pour the contents of the bottle into one of the squat water glasses without spilling any.

She was reluctant to leave the impersonal brilliance of the bathroom for the discreetly lit surroundings of the bedroom, however. Pausing in the doorway, she said, ‘Here you are,’ and extended the glass towards him so that Raul was obliged to move into the harsher light to take it. She injected a note of polite interest into her voice. ‘I hope it’s all right.’

‘I’m sure it will be.’ Raul swallowed a mouthful of the whisky and nodded. ‘It’s fine,’ he said quietly. Then, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Ally wrapped her arms about her midriff. ‘Oh—you mean because I’m not having a drink? Well, actually, I feel as though I’ve drunk too much, too. Particularly as I’ve got a long flight in the morning. I just hope I’ll wake up in time. Perhaps I should order one of those wake-up calls—’

She was babbling; she knew it. And she was hardly surprised when he broke into her prattle to say in an oddly flat tone, ‘I’d better go.’ He paused. ‘I can see I’m making you nervous, and it is late.’

‘Oh, but—’ Ally moistened her lips. ‘You—you haven’t finished your drink.’

‘It doesn’t matter—’

‘It does.’ Ally gazed at him with wide uncertain eyes, and Raul uttered a groan.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’ He started towards the door. ‘Get a good night’s rest.’

‘Wait!’ Ally went after him. ‘I didn’t mean—that is, I’m sorry if I’ve spoiled the evening.’

‘You haven’t.’ He almost growled the words. Then he gave her a tormented look. ‘Let me go, Ally Sloan, or I may do something we’ll both regret.’ His hand came out almost of its own volition and shaped her cheek. ‘You’re very sweet, do you know that? And I’m old enough to know better.’

Ally drew a trembling breath. ‘You’re not implying that I invited you in here to—to—’

‘I’m not implying anything,’ he said huskily. And then, with a muffled oath, he bent his head and brushed her mouth with his…

‘If you look there, you can just see San Cristobál.’ Mike Mclean’s voice dragged her back to the present and she gathered her scattered senses to look where he was pointing. ‘Can you see it? It’s that fish-tailed island just west of Marlin Cay.’

Ally had no idea what Marlin Cay was, but she recognised San Cristobál from his description. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. ‘How much longer is it going to take?’