to talking out loud because in some weird universe that seemed to help. Even Hercules would have turned tail at this task. Her initial flicker of panic was quickly doused by indignation. What an inconsiderate cow! Was Tara expecting someone to pick up after her?
Discarded clothes covered every inch of the bed, but when she turned to look at the wardrobe she realised every last hanger was full and dozens of pairs of shoes were spilling out of the bottom. Two wet bath towels had been abandoned on the floor.
No wonder Nick didn’t want to share with her. Every available surface was strewn with stuff. There wasn’t a spare inch to be seen on the dressing table top, which was covered with make-up: palettes of eyeshadow, a dozen lipsticks, most with their caps removed, at least ten eyeliner pencils and four different mascaras, while on the narrow shelf above the double bed were tubes of moisturizer, body lotion and a million vials and pots of things that Maddie had never even heard of. Midnight oil elixir, skin rejuvenation capsules, orchid oil, mattifying detox and oxygenating mister.
Gritting her teeth, she got to work. What were the chances of Tara appreciating everything being put in order? With the room done, she moved to the bathroom.
She was dismayed by the sight of once pristine white hand towels, dished out just yesterday, which were now make-up stained. The bathroom had been well used; the sink was filthy and the toilet … surprisingly, it looked as if Tara had tried to clean it, although she hadn’t done a very good job. And then Maddie felt a little less self-righteous. It looked as if Tara had been sick. No wonder she hadn’t eaten much last night at dinner. Or maybe she was seasick. It had been quite odd going to sleep the first night in the cabin, getting used to the bobbing motion of the boat. Maddie had brought a good supply of Stugeron seasickness tablets with her; perhaps she should offer one to the other woman. Maybe that was why she was so demanding this morning; she wasn’t feeling well.
The hazy islands shimmering in the distance gradually morphed into green-clad hills rising out of the sea and while Maddie was laying the table for lunch, prolonging the task just to be on deck, she could feel the palpable air of excitement among the guests as they neared the island of Brač.
Everyone stood on the bow watching as Ivan guided the yacht into a quiet inlet just off the rocky coastline where the scrubby trees came right down to the water. The water glinted in the sunlight, a deep beautiful turquoise. It looked like paradise.
When Ivan dropped the anchor it was the signal for lunch and she brought up big platters of antipasti: cured meats, grilled peppers, artichokes, olives and local cheese, along with a selection of salads and some of the fresh bread she’d bought in the bakery this morning.
‘Thanks, Maddie,’ said Simon when he came to the table, where she waited for everyone to be seated. ‘Looks delicious.’
Once they were seated, Maddie asked what everyone would like to drink.
‘Well, I think we should celebrate our first day at sea with a lunchtime bottle of Prosecco,’ said Douglas, putting his map down.
‘Or we could have Bellinis,’ said Cory with a definite hint of challenge in her voice.
Maddie didn’t say anything, just waited for the consensus.
‘I’ll stick with Prosecco,’ said Simon.
‘I’m not fussy; I’ll have whatever’s going,’ said Siri, relaxing against the back of her chair like a contented cat. ‘Drinking at lunchtime feels so decadent.’
‘I’ll have a Bellini,’ said Tara.
‘Would it be possible to have a beer?’ asked Nick, almost apologetically.
‘No problem,’ said Maddie. ‘One beer, one bottle of Prosecco and two Bellinis coming up.’
The serene, I’ve-got-this-smile lasted until she reached the galley. Fuck! What the hell was a Bellini? She dug out her phone, grateful she’d still got a couple of bars’ worth of signal. Prosecco with peach puree! They had to be flipping kidding. Cory and Tara were having a laugh. Those two were clearly in a constant state of one-upmanship.
Who the flip kept peach puree as a store cupboard standby? Going through every cupboard, she learned there was Chinese five spice, Jasmine rice, baked beans and tahini paste but no peach puree.
She did, however, find a very dusty tin of peaches at the very back of one shelf. Pureed peach coming up.
Maddie one, Cory and Tara nil.
Nick stretched lazily on the sunbed, his muscles nicely aching after the afternoon’s paddleboarding, enjoying the sun on his skin and the rhythmic bob of the boat on the water. The scent of pine and salt filled the air and as far as he could see the sky was pure, deep, glorious blue.
‘Nicky darling, will you put some sun cream on my back?’ asked Tara, unplugging her earphones and putting down the phone, to which she was addicted. She was lying on her front but had undone her bikini top and her bottoms, if they could be called that, covered nothing. It was officially the smallest bikini he’d ever seen in his life, not that he was complaining. That was one very pert bottom but he dreaded to think what his mother would have thought of the thong-style pants.
‘Sure.’ He rolled onto his side, sitting up and spraying the expensive suntan lotion onto her back and then rubbing it carefully into the nape of her neck, her shoulders and down her delicate spine.
‘Mmm, ooh, that is nice,’ murmured Tara, wriggling sinuously under his touch. ‘Can you do my legs … and my bottom?’ Nick swallowed and paused. She lifted her hips in quick invitation, turning her head and saying over her shoulder, ‘Don’t be shy.’
‘Who said anything about being shy?’ he countered. ‘I’m just admiring the view.’
‘Like what you see, do you?’ she purred in a low sultry voice, giving him another sexy smile before dropping her head back onto her forearms to watch him with lazy half-closed eyes.
He sprayed the suntan lotion along the backs of her legs, massaging the fine spray into her calves, working his way up her slim thighs, conscious of her constant gaze. When he smoothed his hands over the perfect globes of her bottom, she murmured, ‘Mmm,’ lifting her hips and wriggling her bottom, squirming at his touch.
‘I think I could get used to this,’ she said in a throaty voice that had his senses humming.
‘So could I.’ He stroked her soft skin, the firm gorgeous flesh filling his hands as he pressed his palms over her bottom. There wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t absolutely perfect and as he rubbed his hands in small insistent circles, desire tightened his groin. He let it build as he continued to massage her skin, before sliding his hands up her back to rub a gentle finger over the nape of her neck.
He lay down on his side on the edge of his sunbed, his head next to hers, and leaned forward to lay a soft kiss on her pretty pink lips. ‘So beautiful,’ he whispered and she smiled up at him.
He kissed her again, tracing his mouth over hers, and put an arm over her back to pull her closer, longing to feel her stunning body against his.
‘Perhaps we should go back to one of the cabins for an afternoon nap,’ he suggested.
Tara shifted and let out a long mournful sigh. ‘Tempting, darling Nicky, but –’ she patted his cheek ‘– it’s imperative that I get an even tan. I need to do another half
