Raw Deal

‘Not often. It’s a wonderful life here, you know. Sun, sea, sand—even the occasional mermaid thrown in for good measure!’

She wasn’t fooled. ‘It sounds wonderful for a holiday, but I would have thought after a while it would be extremely boring.’

He gave a funny, twisted little laugh. ‘It has its moments. Come on, I’m afraid I really do have to go and see to my patients.’

As they made their way back across the sun-bleached deck that gleamed strangely white in the moonlight, Maggie felt suddenly very tired.

‘I think, actually, I’ll turn in now if you don’t mind. I’ve got rather a headache.’

‘It’s jet lag,’ he told her. ‘You’ll be all right in the morning.’

On the way back through the Penang Lounge, Rhoda spotted them and winked broadly. Oh, good grief, whatever would she think? And it would be worse if she watched them disappear together! Maggie, blushing slightly, turned to Ben and stopped him with a hand on his arm.

‘There’s someone I must have a word with. Thank you for—this evening.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he murmured, a smile playing in the corners of his eyes. ‘Can you find your way back to your cabin?’

‘I’m sure I will. Goodnight, Ben.’

‘Goodnight, my little mermaid. See you tomorrow.’

He turned away, and Maggie looked up to see Rhoda weaving her way across the room.

That’s him—the perfect man—absolutely splendid! How did you find him?’

Maggie shrugged and laughed. ‘I was sitting next to him for dinner. He’s the ship’s doctor. He’s been very—charming.’

Rhoda eyed her quizzically. ‘And did his charm smudge your lipstick and tumble your hair down over your shoulders and leave you looking so alive?’

Maggie flushed and lowered her eyes, and Rhoda laughed softly and patted her hand.

‘You enjoy it,’ she advised. ‘A little romance will do you the power of good.’

‘Yes, well, just now I feel like ten hours’ sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

She made her way down to her cabin on Java Deck, taking the stairs as the lifts were all busy. Her mind on the magic of Ben’s kiss and the lingering feel of his hands in her hair, she lost her footing and tumbled inelegantly to the deck, landing with a soft cry.

‘You didn’t have to throw yourself at my feet,’ a familiar voice murmured. ‘A word would have been enough.’

‘Ouch,’ she muttered crossly. ‘Don’t fool around, Ben, I’ve hurt my ankle.’

‘Let me see,’ he said in a soothing voice, and carefully eased her leg straight. ‘It doesn’t seem too bad—let’s get you on to your bed and have a closer look. Where’s your cabin?’

She showed him the key, and he hoisted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her down the corridor.

‘Good job it’s not far,’ she joked, ‘I’d hate to put your back out!’

He laughed. ‘You weigh practically nothing,’ he told her. ‘We’ll have to see if we can’t get some flesh on your bones in the next few days.’

Oh, hell, she thought, that’s all it is. A few days. She wished she weren’t so headily conscious of the lingering scent of cologne that drifted towards her on his body’s warmth. His jaw was inches from her face, and she could see the faint trace of stubble roughening the skin. Her fingers itched to rasp against the slightly coarse texture, to feel the roughness of his jaw graze her skin as he trailed hot, lazy kisses down her throat——

‘Here we are—can you open the door?’

Jet lag! she thought, and wriggled round in his arms to put the key in the lock and turn it.

‘I’m sure I can walk,’ she said belatedly.

‘I’m sure you can, but until I’ve checked your ankle I’ve got a good excuse to hold you!’ he replied with a laugh, setting her down gently on one of the bunks.

‘Take your tights off,’ he told her, and turned away while she self-consciously wriggled out of them and tucked them under her pillow.

‘OK,’ she said, and he turned back and perched on the edge of the bunk, taking her ankle firmly but gently in his hands and rotating it carefully, studying her face as he did so.

She winced, and he nodded and put it down, much to her relief. His hands were cool and firm and very masculine, and she felt suddenly terribly conscious of his presence in her cabin. He was bigger than she had realised, not taller, but more solid, somehow.

He had shed his jacket and was wearing a crisp white shirt and tie, and his shoulders looked broader and very menacing—as menacing, that was, as he could manage to look with that little-boy grin and the wicked twinkle in his eye!

‘You’ll have to take it easy for a day or so—plenty of rest, all right?’

A little imp frolicked in her eyes. ‘I was going to dance till four in the morning, jog round the deck to clear my head, then play deck quoits till lunchtime.’

He smiled, slowly and wickedly. ‘If you don’t promise to be sensible I’ll have to lash you to the bed.’

‘That’ll make it very difficult for you to do as the captain told you and keep me company,’ she said without thinking, and his deep chuckle brought a flush to her cheeks.

‘I don’t know—it sounds as if it has definite possibilities!’ he murmured lazily, and suddenly he seemed menacing in quite another way—a way she found all too appealing.

‘Don’t be unprofessional,’ she said a little huskily. ‘Remember your hypocritic oath, Dr Bradshaw!’

He stood up suddenly, the smile wiped from his face. ‘That’s Hippocratic, and I’m well aware of its ramifications,’ he said harshly, and turned towards the door.

Maggie was astonished. What was wrong with him? ‘Ben?’

‘Take it easy for a day or two, and you’ll be fine. If you need any painkillers or you think it needs support, I’ll be in the medical centre. Goodnight.’

Her whispered ‘goodnight’ bounced off the closed door. What on earth had she said? She was joking. Was the Hippocratic oath in some way involved in the mystery of his past?

With a groan of frustration, she eased herself carefully off the edge of the bunk and prepared for bed, her thoughts full of Ben and his strange and apparently inconsistent behaviour.

What had happened to him?

And what was happening to her? She was in danger of becoming hopelessly involved with him—or she had been, until a thoughtless remark had sent him running for cover. Now she had probably lost her chance—and it was probably just as well.

With a sigh she climbed into bed and fell instantly, dreamlessly asleep.

Maggie woke with a dull ache in her left ankle, and for a while she considered Ben’s advice to take it easy, but with only eight days of the cruise left it seemed too sensible for words.

Throwing back the bedclothes, she swung her legs over the side and stood up. So far so good. Gingerly, she tested her weight on the bad ankle. Uh-uh! Not so smart. She sat down again.