Raw Deal

Rats, she thought. I’ll have to take it easy after all.

Hopping carefully, she got herself ready in shorts and T-shirt over her bikini, grabbed a little hold-all with sunscreen, a beach-towel and a good book and set off for the lift at a steady limp.

Emerging on to Malacca Deck, she made her way to the Frangipani Room where she could hear the unmistakable sound of breakfast being served.

The steward asked her her cabin number and escorted her to a table for six with a lovely view out over the water. She was the only person at the table, and was feeling self-conscious when Rhoda appeared at her side.

‘Got any room for me? I have the distinct feeling that the people on my table are going to turn out to be the most crashing bores imaginable—and anyway, I want to ask you all sorts of searching personal questions about that lovely man!’

Maggie laughed. ‘Come and join me—you can have my grandmother’s seat, I’m sure. Actually I was feeling a bit lost.’

Rhoda nodded understandingly. ‘Yes, it was a long time after I was widowed before I felt quite at home in a restaurant on my own. So tell me—how did you get on with him?’

Maggie fiddled with her cutlery. ‘Quite well at first, but I seem to have said something that’s upset him.’

‘He didn’t look upset last night!’

‘No, it was later,’ Maggie explained, and gave Rhoda an edited version.

‘Oh, you poor thing! Darling, how simply rotten for you—is it agony?’

‘Not really,’ Maggie laughed. ‘In fact sitting like this I can hardly feel it. It’s only when I stand or walk—oh, lord, there he is!’

Rhoda swivelled her head and gave Ben the benefit of her ten-megawatt smile as he crossed the room towards them. In normal day-dress of crisp white shorts, short-sleeved open-necked white shirt and white shoes and socks, he looked even better, if possible, than he had in formal evening dress. Rhoda whistled quietly under her breath.

‘Good morning, Doctor,’ she purred as he drew level with them, and Ben gave her a slightly strained smile and pulled out the chair next to Maggie.

‘Good morning,’ he replied, and sat down sideways on the chair, facing Maggie. ‘Hi. How’s the patient today?’

She smiled to ease the tension and tried not to stare. ‘Not too bad. I’m going to take your advice, though.’

‘Good.’

He paused, and Rhoda stood up, her brilliant smile in place. ‘Will you children excuse me? I’ve just seen someone I want a word with—won’t be a mo.’

She flitted across the room, scarf trailing colour-fully, and they watched her go.

Then Maggie turned back to Ben and touched his hand. ‘About last night—I’m sorry I implied you were being unprofessional. It was unforgivable.’

‘You were absolutely right——’

‘No, I wasn’t! After all that had gone before, you were acting as a friend with medical knowledge giving first aid, rather than the ship’s doctor giving a formal consultation. I was only teasing. I’m sorry you took me seriously.’

He was silent for a moment, and then he looked up with a rueful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, too. I’m inclined to over-react. You just hit a nerve. Anyway, I’m the ship’s doctor before I’m anything else, and it wouldn’t hurt to remember it. With my entertainment duties it’s a fine line that’s often blurred—but never more so than with you.’ He sighed. ‘Where are you spending the day?’

‘I thought I’d find a shady spot on deck and read—maybe swim?’

‘Mind you don’t burn.’

She hefted her hold-all. ‘I’ve got some factor twenty-five sunscreen in here.’

‘You’ll need it. Have a lovely day. I’ll see you later.’

He stood up, waved to Rhoda and left the room.

Rhoda excused herself and came straight back.

‘Well? Did you sort out your little disagreement?’

Maggie had to smile. ‘I think we may have done. Ah, here’s the steward—shall we order?’

It was a long, lazy day, and Ben drifted in and out of it with a smile and a wave, pausing sometimes to top up Maggie’s sunscreen cream or check on the progress of her ankle.

It made it very difficult to keep him at a distance, because, while she hadn’t wanted to leave matters so there was bad feeling between them, on the other hand she didn’t want to encourage his attentions to the point where he would think an affair was inevitable—because it wasn’t.

At least she told herself that, but when he perched on the end of her sunbed and grasped her ankle firmly in his large, warm hands, smoothing the skin with his thumbs while his hair-roughened thigh brushed against her calf and his eyes sent wicked messages to her fevered imagination, it was hard to believe that she would have the strength to turn away from him if he ever really tried to seduce her.

At four o’clock she went back down to her cabin for a rest before dinner, and then dressed with extra care, refusing to admit to herself that it had anything to do with a certain tall, blond doctor who had insinuated himself into her life.

It was New Year’s Eve, and in five hours they would be crossing the Equator. The promised party would undoubtedly be riotous and trail on until the morning, and she just hoped her ankle would stand up to it. Not that it mattered. No one would be affected if she slipped quietly away just after midnight.

Except maybe Ben.

Ignoring the sudden thudding of her heart, Maggie fastened the single tiny pearl button at the neck of the cream crêpe de Chine gown and stood back to inspect her handiwork.

Oh, dear. It’s another of those dresses, she thought wearily. I really must stop taking Jo and Annie shopping with me.

There was a tap at the door, and Ben’s voice curled around her senses.

‘Maggie? Are you ready?’

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

He stood looking at her for endless moments, which gave her the perfect opportunity to study him in turn. And he looked gorgeous. Tall, broad, devastatingly masculine, the little-boy look banished in favour of an appraisal that was elemental in its intensity.

‘My God,’ he breathed, and closed his eyes, opening them again slowly. ‘Turn round,’ he instructed, and she noticed with rather nervous amusement that his voice was slightly rasping.

She twirled slowly, and then came to rest facing him again.

‘Losing your voice?’ she teased.

‘Losing my grip, I think,’ he replied gruffly, and with a deep sigh he offered her his arm. ‘I think we need to be among people before I give in to the urge to tumble you on to your bunk and ravish you before dinner.’

Maggie laughed, but as she looked up and met his eyes she realised he was only half joking.

Thank goodness he was a gentleman!

Dinner was wonderful, each course outdoing the one before, and by the time Maggie had fought her way through the French onion soup, the lobster tails in an exquisite sauce and the beef Wellington, she was ready to give in.