The Secret Cove in Croatia. Julie Caplin
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‘Oof.’ Maddie hit a broad wall of chest as she rounded the corner of the back – no, she must remember to call it the stern – of the boat as she headed out for an early morning trip to the bakery, Bobis, that Zita had recommended. She hadn’t expected to see anyone at this ridiculous hour.
‘Sorry. Oh, it’s you.’ Nick’s voice sounded disapproving.
She raised her gaze to meet narrowed blue eyes.
‘What? You don’t apologise to the help?’ sniped Maddie. How disappointing to realise that he was Nina’s brother.
‘That’s not what I meant.’ He glared down at her and she glared back up at him. They were like two boxers in a ring, posturing before either threw the first punch. He stepped back with a snarky smile. ‘After you,’ he said, allowing her to go first down the gangplank.
She inclined her head with a brief nod and strode down the narrow corridor, clutching the wicker basket, the discovery of which, five minutes ago, had given her so much pleasure – she’d always wanted to go shopping with a proper basket. Now she wanted to use it to bash the irritating Nick over the head.
He fell into step with her as she hit the jetty. ‘Where are you headed?’
‘Into Split,’ she replied, remembering that he was a guest and she owed him a modicum of politeness. At this hour she’d assumed all the guests were asleep.
‘Is the centre far?’ asked Nick, shading his eyes against the already brilliant sunshine and looking towards the town.
‘Not too far, but a good twenty-minute walk,’ she said.
‘Presumably I’ve got time to see it, if you’re going in. The boat won’t leave without you.’
He stuck like unwanted glue beside her as they walked along the jetty. Unfortunately, from here there was only one route along the promenade.
‘We’re due to sail at nine-thirty. When everyone’s had breakfast. I’m serving it at eight-thirty but I need to be back at eight.’ She looked at her watch, which gave her a good two hours.
Nick let out a laugh. ‘Good luck with that. Tara isn’t an early riser and neither is Cory.’
‘What? You know both of their sleeping habits?’ asked Maddie. ‘That’s impressive.’
Nick pursed his lips. ‘They share a flat. And models work long hours, lots of late nights.’
‘Hmph,’ snorted Maddie. ‘Nice work if you can get it.’
‘It’s quite demanding,’ said Nick.
‘Yeah, I bet you really break into a sweat standing around looking gorgeous for a few hours.’
‘And you would know?’
‘Ouch,’ said Maddie with a rueful laugh. ‘He noticed I’m not a size zero.’
Nick stiffened, his mouth twisting. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’
‘What did you mean? I’m dying to know because from here it sounded pretty …’ She deliberately left the sentence to trail, leaving him to fill in the blanks in any way he chose.
‘I meant if you’ve ever been on a photoshoot, you’d realise that it is quite hard work.’
Maddie raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘No mate, hard work is when you break into a sweat, put in twelve-hour shifts, come home and your back is aching and you earn a pittance doing it.’
‘Sounds like someone’s got a bit of a chip on their shoulder. Is crewing hard work? Seems quite a nice gig to me. Didn’t look as if you were working too hard yesterday when you couldn’t be arsed to let us on board.’
‘Like I told you, check-in was at five-thirty. Everyone else managed to get it right … or are you so important normal rules don’t apply?’
His jaw clenched and Maddie was pleased to see that he looked mightily pissed off.
‘Are you always this rude to guests?’
‘No,’ said Maddie cheerfully, swinging her basket as she strode along. ‘Just you.’
Nick didn’t have anything to say to that. They walked along in silence, Maddie smirking to herself. She could not believe this was Nina’s brother. She’d been led to believe he was a nice, normal, down-to-earth bloke and, to be honest, she was a little bit disappointed. So much for her foolish imaginings that he might be a mate or even an ally on this trip. In those shorts, he looked, well, a bit of a dick, which he’d proved himself yesterday. Seriously, who wore shorts that tight, although they did wonders for his backside. If she didn’t know better, in that get-up, she’d have assumed he was gay. And, judging from the second glance of the guy that had just walked by, she wasn’t the only one.
‘I think you’ve pulled,’ she said, trying to keep her face straight.
‘What?’ Nick looked at her, puzzled.
‘The guy that just passed us. Couldn’t take his eyes off your arse.’
She laughed at the startled expression on his face as he shot a quick look over his shoulder and then laughed even more when the dark-haired guy grinned at Nick, revealing lots of perfect white even teeth.
‘All the better to bite you with,’ said Maddie, gurgling with laughter.
Nick’s mouth was pinched shut in a straight line and he swivelled his head back so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t crick his neck.
‘Told you. I think it’s the shorts.’ She eyed the tight fabric with the dodgy turn-ups. They didn’t even look that comfortable.
‘What’s wrong with them?’ he asked warily.
‘Nothing, I guess, if you’re a trainee gigolo or a bit of a fox.’
Nick blew out an annoyed breath. ‘They’re shorts.’
‘They certainly are,’ teased Maddie.
‘You a fashion expert as well now?’ he asked through gritted teeth.
‘You’re on holiday, not the catwalk. Time to relax and enjoy yourself. I’d have thought dressing for comfort was the most important thing.’ Her lips twisted as she tried hard not to smile. In those shorts he might have difficulty fathering children in the future, although she’d be the last to deny that those muscular thighs, covered in crisp sandy gold hair, were pretty impressive and she was on the same page as the gay guy when it came to Nick’s bum. Shame he was such an arse. ‘You want to watch you don’t cut your circulation off.’
‘Is there any kind of filter with you?’ asked