Sophie Weston - Avoiding Mr Right

‘There. Back with the adults again.’

She was blushing. ‘Thank you. Very kind of you,’ she said furiously, not meaning a word of it.

He did not pretend to misunderstand. He laughed. ‘My pleasure. So you ran away to sea twenty years ago. How have you lived since then?’

Christina sniffed. ‘I earn a decent living.’ She scowled at the sweet roll in her hand. ‘At least, I do when the bank lets me get at my money.’

Luc Henri shook his head. ‘Who on earth is mad enough to employ a girl like you as a deckhand?’

‘I’m perfectly competent,’ she flung at him, annoyed.

His eyes caught and held hers. He had extraordinary eyelashes, she saw now—thick and dark, defining those brilliant eyes like a painter’s charcoal line.

‘And perfectly beautiful,’ he returned softly.

Christina caught her breath. Again! She stiffened slightly. Her eyes slid away from his.

‘You should see me in my working clothes,’ she said, her voice a little strained.

‘I am imagining it.’ His voice was dry. ‘I’d be amazed if the rest of the crew do any work at all.’

Christina sat even straighter. ‘I don’t have affairs with colleagues,’ she said bluntly.

He looked amused. ‘Then who do you have affairs with?’

‘I don’t—’ she began heatedly and stopped herself at once, but it was too late. She had given herself away. He made no attempt to hide his triumph. His eyes gleamed with it.

‘Don’t you? I find that very interesting.’

Christina fought down a blush and regarded him with exasperation. ‘If you say I ought to, a beautiful girl like me, I shall scream,’ she told him.

His lips twitched. ‘I’m not that unsubtle.’

‘You surprise me,’ she said sarcastically.

Luc Henri’s slim brows lifted. ‘Because I pay you compliments you’re not used to?’

‘How do you know—?’ She bit the sentence off—too late again. This time she was furious with herself.

The look he gave her was almost tender.

‘Women who are used to receiving compliments don’t ignore them,’ he explained kindly. ‘You aren’t and you do. At least you try to. How old are you, Christina?’

‘Twenty-three,’ she flung at him.

He smiled. ‘You surprise me,’ he mimicked.

Christina ground her teeth.

‘Now tell me about these boats you work on.’

Christina tossed her head. ‘Private yachts mostly. Or tourist boats taking people scuba-diving. I’m good. I can get as much work as I want.’

‘And you earn enough to keep yourself?’

She gave her bubbling laugh suddenly. ‘When the bank lets me get at it.’

He looked at her curiously. ‘But surely it’s seasonal? What do you do in the winter?’

Christina gave a small, private smile. Here was an opportunity to get some of her own back at last. “That’s my business.’

She found that he was watching her; a frown between his brows. He did not seem to have noticed that she had balked him. He looked as if he was in a quandary—and that he was not going to tell her about it.

‘You’re an odd girl,’ he said abruptly.

‘Woman,’ she corrected him.

His mouth twisted suddenly. ‘An even odder woman. I wonder—? No.’

She was not going to ask. She was not even going to think of asking.

She took a mouthful of croissant. ‘Not that odd,’ she said calmly. ‘I work, I eat, I sleep like everyone else.’

The steeply lidded eyes lifted. ‘How wrong you are,’ he said quietly. ‘Not like anyone else I’ve ever known.’

It was not said provocatively but Christina straightened sharply. Her eyes locked with his. Challenge sizzled in the air between them. Luc went very still.

After a long moment she said, almost at random, ‘You don’t know me.’

His eyes still held hers. ‘Do I not?’

She shivered suddenly. ‘No.’ Her voice was sharp. ‘No, you don’t. This is an encounter out of space and time. Remember?’

He said softly, ‘You’re scared of me, Christina.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m not. I can take care of myself. I’m not scared of you or anyone.’

Luc looked at her for a moment. ‘If you’re not scared of me, what does scare you?’

She seized another mouthful of croissant and chewed it, avoiding his eyes. ‘I told you, I’m not scared.’

‘Then why won’t you look at me?’

Christina choked. ‘You’re imagining it.’ She met his eyes with a candour which cost her a lot of self-control. ‘Look, I’m not scared of being alone in the city with nowhere to stay tonight. What makes you more scary than that?’

There was an odd look in his eyes. ‘You tell me.’

‘You’re imagining it,’ Christina said again, too loudly.

Several of the other customers looked up, startled. The man at the next table was so surprised that he knocked over his glass of water. He dropped his Wall Street Journal and the liquid began to soak into it. He looked wretchedly uncomfortable as the waiter ran to mop the table.

Christina, who had been aware of the man’s gaze on them for some time, was not displeased. ‘Now he’ll have to find something else to pretend to do while he eavesdrops,’ she said.

Luc Henri’s eyes passed over the dark-suited, middle-aged man without interest.

‘Eavesdrops? I think you must be mistaken. He’s probably waiting for someone.’

She shook her head.

‘No. He came in not long after us and chose this table deliberately. He’s just been pretending to read that newspaper. He didn’t turn the pages once.’

A shade of annoyance crossed Luc Henri’s face. But all he said was, ‘Then he can’t have had a very entertaining morning.’

He looked at his watch, then raised a finger at the waiter for the bill.

‘Thank you for my breakfast,’ Christina said at once, retreating into formal manners. ‘I ought to be going.’

At once he said imperiously, ‘No.’

She paused, one eyebrow raised at his tone.

He smiled faintly. ‘At least let me lend you some money to cover tonight’s lodging.’

Christina looked at him levelly. ‘Lend? You mean give, don’t you, if we’re not going to meet again?’

Luc stared at her, his brows twitching together. He said something explosive under his breath. It did not sound polite. ‘I can afford it.’

‘Ah, but can I?’ she retorted.

His look was quizzical suddenly. ‘No strings.’

Christina’s heart missed a beat. She shook her head decisively. ‘Thank you, no. I should be able to crash on someone’s floor tonight. It won’t take long to get a job. I’ll ask around the waterfront cafés tonight.’

He said quickly, ‘Think of me as a brother. I would hope someone would do as much for my sister—or my niece when she’s older.’

Christina looked at him levelly. ‘I don’t feel like your sister. Or your nice.’

A little flame leaped into his eyes. She saw that she had made a mistake. She pushed her coffee-cup away from her and stood up quickly.

‘I’m grateful for the offer, truly I am. But when I set out on my own I promised myself I’d pay my bills as I went. I always do. So, thank you, but no.’ She held out her hand. ‘It’s been interesting meeting you. Have a nice life.’

He stood up as well. His face was thunderous suddenly. If she had been his employee she would have quailed at that expression, she thought. She was grateful that she did not work for him.

Luc’s face darkened. He flicked open his wallet and pulled out a thick sandwich of notes.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said curtly. ‘Take the money.’

The man at the next table did not know where to look. Out of the corner of her eye Christina caught his expression—half wretchedly embarrassed, half fascinated. She found that she sympathised with him. Luc Henri clearly was sublimely unaware of the scene he was making, or did not care what people thought of him. In contrast, the poor man at the next table was acutely aware of both. It made her all the more furious with Luc Henri.