Page 28 of One Forbidden Night In Paradise (Hot Winter Escapes)

He wasn’t talking about the wreck. She knew that and he knew that, and for a second they stared at one another in silence and then she cleared her throat. ‘Well, thank you for that. It was really kind of you.’

‘It was my pleasure.’ He held her gaze. ‘So are you interested in going back down?’

It was a bad idea. Clearly it would be better, safer, to refuse, which meant there was only one possible response to that question. She took a deep breath. ‘Yes,’ she said.

After lunch on the yacht, it was time to dive again. This time, she remembered to take some photographs. Thank goodness for digital cameras, she thought as she zoomed in on the coral stretching over the wreck’s hull. Swapping to the video camera, she felt her heartbeat slow. It was so calm down here away from dry land. So easy to forget that the real world even existed.

Chase tapped her on the arm, and, putting down the camera, she glanced round and saw that he was pointing to a striped sergeant major snuffling along the seabed. She started to follow him and then out of the corner of her mask, she saw it. A turtle propelling itself forward into the wreck using its paddle like flippers. She twisted in the water to watch it and then kicked forward. She had to get a picture.

A hand clamped around her arm. Chase was beside her, his eyes narrow beneath the mask. She pointed at the turtle but, shaking his head, he jerked his thumb towards the surface. She frowned, then reluctantly returned the signal and, still holding her arm, he guided her back up to the boat. As she climbed back on deck, he ripped off his mask and turned to face her.

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ His deep voice was soft but there was a dangerous undertone that made the two remaining crew members scuttle to the other end of the boat. Gone was the easy intimacy and teasing smile of earlier, now his expression was as hard and inaccessible as the rock on his company’s logo.

‘You should have let me know if you wanted to go look at something, or do you not understand the meaning of dive buddy?’

He was talking about the turtle. ‘Yes, of course I do,’ she protested.

‘Really?’ The ice in his voice made her flinch inwardly. ‘Because, for me, every dive is a contract, a duty of care for your buddy’s safety.’

‘I agree.’

‘So, what, you just forgot?’ His lip curled. ‘Or were all the pretty fish too distracting for you?’

‘No.’ She was shaking her head. ‘That’s not how it was.’ Fighting to keep her voice steady, she started to explain what had happened but he cut across her.

‘It’s exactly how it was.’ And nothing was going to persuade him otherwise. She could see that in his eyes, in the hard, uncompromising set of his jaw. ‘You’re my buddy. You say you know what that means but it was just words because you didn’t follow through.’ She felt a prickling heat spread over her face as his eyes narrowed on her.

‘You know, this isn’t some dive pool, Jemima. This is the ocean and I don’t dip my toe in it with anyone who isn’t on the same page as me when it comes to understanding what they are responsible for. You can’t just opt out when you feel like it. You made a commitment—’ He broke off, his hand tightening around his mask.

Pain, a pain that had nothing to do with him, an old pain that was never far from the surface, fuelled her anger.

‘You didn’t give me a chance to—’

‘To what? Prove me wrong? And what if you hadn’t? What if I was right?’ His voice was still fierce, but beneath the anger there was a rawness and a depth of passion that shocked her. ‘Then it would all be too little too late.’ He stopped, his beautiful mouth taut against his teeth. ‘Do you know exactly how very little it takes to lose everything? No, of course, you don’t. You’re just a child, a stupid, thoughtless child.’

She stared at him, her heart sliding free of its moorings, stunned by the intensity of his fury. Even though the sun was hot on her back she felt cold inside her wetsuit. ‘I’m not a child, and I do understand, and next time—’

‘There’s not going to be a next time.’ A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘I don’t do second chances because I spend every working day calculating risk, Jemima, and what you call second chances I call preventable accidents. And the consequences of those accidents are far reaching and devastating in ways I hope you never have to experience.’

His words hit her straight in the solar plexus like the kick of a horse, and there were tears in her eyes quite suddenly. It was a decade ago now but she could still remember sitting in that small, stifling room in the courthouse when the coroner had read out the verdict of accidental death. This, though, was a more accurate verdict because her father’s death had been preventable.

By her.

Only she hadn’t followed through then either. She had given up, walked away—no, make that crept away. And afterwards, she had only seen him that one last time.

She was suddenly afraid she would be sick.

‘This was a mistake.’ His face was shuttered, voice expressionless. ‘My mistake. I thought you understood what was at stake but you don’t, and I don’t have people around me who don’t understand the consequences of their actions. Particularly in the ocean.’

There was a long silence.

‘I’m going to finish up here.’ Chase glanced over his shoulder to where the crew were staring pointedly out to sea. ‘I’ll get someone to drop you back at the house.’

She stared after him, her chest splitting with a pain that had everything to do with him and nothing to do with him, a pain she would always have to shoulder because once again she had failed to follow through.

Back on theMiranda, Chase stalked into his cabin and slammed the door shut. He tossed his phone onto the bed and sat down, and then almost immediately got to his feet and began pacing round the room, his heart pounding out a drum roll of frustration and disbelief.

He kept a dry boat. Alcohol and diving were not just incompatible, they were a dangerous combination and he made no apologies about mandatory drug testing for the crew. Right now, though, he could have done with a glass of whisky. Or maybe a bottle, just something that would take the edge off his tension.

---