help?'
'I think I can manage.' She grimaced. 'Even I ought to be able to open a can of soup.'
'Are you sure? You seem a little flushed—out of sorts.'
She shrugged a shoulder. Too much sun,' she said lightly. 'I'm still not used to it'
'Ah,' he said, his eyes considering her shrewdly. 'That might account for it.' He paused. 'I took some savoury pastries from the freezer earlier. Would you like me to heat them?'
'Yes, please,' Chellie said gratefully.
She poured the creamy vegetable soup into a pan, and began to warm it gently while Laurent busied himself at the oven.
She said, 'I just hope we get to St Hilaire before I poison everyone.'
He clicked his tongue. 'That is not fair. You should not put yourself down in such a way,
mademoiselle
.'
'Please,' she said. 'My other friends call me Chellie.'
His brows lifted, 'You flatter me—Chellie.
Merci du compliment
.'
'So, tell me something about St Hilaire?' She kept her voice bright, interested. 'I gather it's not very big?'
'No,' he said. 'But my home is there, so I think it very beautiful.'
'Are you married?'
'Yes.' His face relaxed into a smile. 'And I have a son and a daughter.'
Chellie remembered there had been family photos in his cabin, but could not say so, of course. She said, 'They must miss you—when you're away like this.'
He shrugged- 'It does not happen so often.'
'Oh,' she said. 'Then this isn't how you earn your living—sailing other people's boats?'
'No,' he said. 'On St Hilaire I manage a banana plantation. And I have a boat of my own,' he added with a touch of dryness. 'I like to fish.'
Chellie hesitated, fighting with herself and losing. She said, trying to sound casual, 'And Ash—does he live on the island too?'
'There—and in other places.' He paused, giving a slight shrug. 'Unlike myself, he is a single man. So—he enjoys his freedom.'
'Yes,' she said. 'I'm sure he does.'
But for how much longer
? she asked herself, remembering the photograph beside his bed.
She concentrated her attention fiercely on the soup. After a moment or two, she said, 'Laurent—will you tell me something?
'If I can.' He sounded faintly wary.
She drew a breath. 'Is Ash sorry that he rescued me? That he brought me out of that awful place?'
Laurent hesitated. 'I think,
cherie
, he regrets there was ever a necessity to do so.'
Her smile was wry. 'I'm sorry too.' She swirled a spoon in the soup, watching tiny bubbles begin to form. She said, 'But with Ash there's more to it than that—isn't there?'
He spread his hands. 'In life there are always—complications.'
She gave a wintry smile. 'And I'm one of those complications?'
He shook his head. 'I think I have already said too much.' He became businesslike. 'The pastries require five more minutes. There is salad in the refrigerator, also vinaigrette dressing in a small jar. Ash suggested that we eat on deck.'
'Fine,' she said, over-brightly. 'But I'll have my meal here. Less—complicated, you understand.
Laurent gave her a quizzical look as he prepared to depart. 'I think that I begin to,' he murmured. 'Perhaps it may be better for you to—stay out of the sun,
cherie
.' And he went off, whistling under his breath.
Lunch was not as difficult as she'd feared, after all. Ash barely looked at her as he thanked her with cool politeness for the tray of food she set in front of them. Nor did he query her failure to join them.
Perhaps he was glad not to have to face her, Chellie thought as she ate her solitary meal.
Once it was all finished, and cleared away, Chellie went to her stateroom and took a long cool shower, changing back into the clothes she'd worn earlier.
No more chasing a tan, she told herself. In future it would be safer to cover up.
Now she needed something to occupy her—something that would stop her thinking again, because there was no guarantee that she could keep her thoughts under sufficient control for her own peace of mind.
She'd noticed there were cleaning materials in a
'I think I can manage.' She grimaced. 'Even I ought to be able to open a can of soup.'
'Are you sure? You seem a little flushed—out of sorts.'
She shrugged a shoulder. Too much sun,' she said lightly. 'I'm still not used to it'
'Ah,' he said, his eyes considering her shrewdly. 'That might account for it.' He paused. 'I took some savoury pastries from the freezer earlier. Would you like me to heat them?'
'Yes, please,' Chellie said gratefully.
She poured the creamy vegetable soup into a pan, and began to warm it gently while Laurent busied himself at the oven.
She said, 'I just hope we get to St Hilaire before I poison everyone.'
He clicked his tongue. 'That is not fair. You should not put yourself down in such a way,
mademoiselle
.'
'Please,' she said. 'My other friends call me Chellie.'
His brows lifted, 'You flatter me—Chellie.
Merci du compliment
.'
'So, tell me something about St Hilaire?' She kept her voice bright, interested. 'I gather it's not very big?'
'No,' he said. 'But my home is there, so I think it very beautiful.'
'Are you married?'
'Yes.' His face relaxed into a smile. 'And I have a son and a daughter.'
Chellie remembered there had been family photos in his cabin, but could not say so, of course. She said, 'They must miss you—when you're away like this.'
He shrugged- 'It does not happen so often.'
'Oh,' she said. 'Then this isn't how you earn your living—sailing other people's boats?'
'No,' he said. 'On St Hilaire I manage a banana plantation. And I have a boat of my own,' he added with a touch of dryness. 'I like to fish.'
Chellie hesitated, fighting with herself and losing. She said, trying to sound casual, 'And Ash—does he live on the island too?'
'There—and in other places.' He paused, giving a slight shrug. 'Unlike myself, he is a single man. So—he enjoys his freedom.'
'Yes,' she said. 'I'm sure he does.'
But for how much longer
? she asked herself, remembering the photograph beside his bed.
She concentrated her attention fiercely on the soup. After a moment or two, she said, 'Laurent—will you tell me something?
'If I can.' He sounded faintly wary.
She drew a breath. 'Is Ash sorry that he rescued me? That he brought me out of that awful place?'
Laurent hesitated. 'I think,
cherie
, he regrets there was ever a necessity to do so.'
Her smile was wry. 'I'm sorry too.' She swirled a spoon in the soup, watching tiny bubbles begin to form. She said, 'But with Ash there's more to it than that—isn't there?'
He spread his hands. 'In life there are always—complications.'
She gave a wintry smile. 'And I'm one of those complications?'
He shook his head. 'I think I have already said too much.' He became businesslike. 'The pastries require five more minutes. There is salad in the refrigerator, also vinaigrette dressing in a small jar. Ash suggested that we eat on deck.'
'Fine,' she said, over-brightly. 'But I'll have my meal here. Less—complicated, you understand.
Laurent gave her a quizzical look as he prepared to depart. 'I think that I begin to,' he murmured. 'Perhaps it may be better for you to—stay out of the sun,
cherie
.' And he went off, whistling under his breath.
Lunch was not as difficult as she'd feared, after all. Ash barely looked at her as he thanked her with cool politeness for the tray of food she set in front of them. Nor did he query her failure to join them.
Perhaps he was glad not to have to face her, Chellie thought as she ate her solitary meal.
Once it was all finished, and cleared away, Chellie went to her stateroom and took a long cool shower, changing back into the clothes she'd worn earlier.
No more chasing a tan, she told herself. In future it would be safer to cover up.
Now she needed something to occupy her—something that would stop her thinking again, because there was no guarantee that she could keep her thoughts under sufficient control for her own peace of mind.
She'd noticed there were cleaning materials in a
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