He lazed back in his chair, his long legs casually splayed out in front of him, the quads moving interestingly beneath the fabric of his trousers. ‘You don’t look much like a Flick to me,’ he mused.
Felicity’s pulse fluttered as she suppressed the urge to lean across and kiss him for his observation. The sad fact was, though, in her everyday life she did look like a Flick. Her hair in its regulation ponytail, wearing her nondescript uniform or slopping around in her jeans and T-shirt.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, raising her glass to him and taking a sip.
‘My brother calls me Cal.’
Felicity studied him for a moment. ‘Nope. You definitely don’t look like a Cal.’
‘No?’
Felicity smiled at the faux wounded expression on his face. ‘No.’
‘What do Cals look like?’
‘Cals are the life of the party,’ she said, happy to play along. ‘They’re wise-cracking, smart-talking, laugh-a-minute guys. You’re way too serious for a Cal.’
He laughed but it wasn’t the kind of rumbly noise she’d come to expect. It sounded hollow and didn’t quite reach his eyes. Crap. She’d insulted him somehow. Way to turn a guy off, Flick.
She had to fix it. Fix it, damn it!
‘Anyway,’ she said, hoping like hell she sounded casual instead of panicked. Nothing like ruining their evening before it had progressed to the good bit. ‘I like Callum. It’s very...noble.’
A beat or two passed before he laughed again, throwing his head back. It was full and hearty with enough rumble to fill a race track. It rained down in thick, warm droplets and Felicity wanted to take her clothes off and get soaking wet.
The laughter cut out and he fixed her with his steady gaze. ‘Just so you know, I’m not feeling remotely noble right now.’
Felicity’s belly clenched hard and she swallowed. Eep! This was really going to happen. He downed his whisky and put the glass on the table. ‘Would you like to come back to my compartment?’
She cursed her sudden attack of nerves. But this wasn’t her. She didn’t do this kind of thing. Could she pull it off?
‘Hey,’ he said, leaning forward at the hips and placing his hand over hers. ‘We don’t have to. I just thought...’
Yeah. He’d thought she was interested because she’d practically done everything but strip her clothes off and sit in his lap. God, she must look like some freaked-out virgin. Or some horrible tease.
Felicity could feel it all slipping away. She didn’t want to pass this up, damn it, but she hadn’t expected to feel so...conflicted about it when it came to the crunch.
So she did what she always did in lineball calls. She picked up her phone.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m asking Mike what he thinks I should do.’
A bigger frown this time. ‘Mike?’
‘Yeah. You know, the guy in my phone who talks to me and tells me stuff like why the sky is blue and where the nearest hairdresser is.’
He chuckled. ‘Yours is a dude?’
She shrugged. ‘You can choose and Mike sounds like Richard Armitage so it was a no-brainer.’
‘And do you always let your phone decide such things?’
‘Sometimes. It’s the modern-day coin toss, right?’
He chuckled again. ‘Well, this ought to be interesting.’
Felicity grinned as she pushed a button and brought her phone up closer to her mouth. ‘Mike, should I go back to Callum’s?’
The phone gave an electronic beep then a stylised male voice spoke in a sexy English accent. ‘Is he good enough?’
They both laughed then he grabbed her wrist and brought the phone closer to his mouth. Her pulse point fluttered madly beneath his fingers as their gazes locked. A smile played on his mouth again as he spoke into the microphone, his eyes firmly fixed on her. ‘He’s very good, Mike.’
Felicity’s toes curled in her pumps at the sexually suggestive reply. That wasn’t what Mike had meant.
‘Does he know how to treat a woman?’
He didn’t laugh this time, just eyed her intently as he replied. ‘Oh, yeah. He knows exactly how to treat a woman.’
‘Then you don’t need me to decide, Felicity.’
He released her hand, slowly, still holding her gaze with a red-hot intensity. ‘Looks like the ball is in your court.’
Felicity’s heart tripped as he fixed her with a gaze that left her in no doubt they were both going to be naked within about ten seconds of the door shutting. Her breath hitched but she was aware of Travis, still at the bar, in her peripheral vision.
What would he think if they left together? Would he gossip about it with the rest of the crew? Would everyone know in the morning that she and Callum had spent the night together?
If she was back home in Vickers Hill, everyone would know.
But she wasn’t. Was she? She wasn’t Flick here. She was Felicity and nobody knew her.
Felicity picked up her glass and swallowed the last quarter in three long gulps. She stood, her body heating as his lazy gaze took its sweet time checking her out. ‘Your compartment or mine?’
He smiled, downed the last of his whisky and held out his hand. She took it, smiling also, tugging on his hand, impatient now she’d taken the first step to get on with it.
Jock entered the lounge at that moment and Felicity halted, letting go of Callum’s hand immediately, like a guilty teenager. The older man was in a pair of tracksuit pants and a white singlet.
‘Jock,’ she said, smiling as she walked towards him, aware of Callum close on her heels. ‘Thought you’d be in the land of nod by now.’
Jock gave them a tight smile. ‘So did I but...’ He rubbed his chest. ‘My indigestion is really giving me hell tonight. I thought I’d come and ask Travis for a glass of milk. That usually does the trick.’
Felicity felt the first prickle of alarm as she neared Jock. The subdued night-time lighting in the lounge hadn’t made the sweat on his brow and the pallor of his face obvious.
‘Jock?’ She frowned. ‘Are you okay?’
Callum stepped out from behind her, also frowning. ‘You don’t look very well.’
‘You need to sit down, I think,’ Felicity said, ushering him over to the closest chair.
‘Do
