The Surprise De Angelis Baby

‘Nothing. Okay. Well, why not? Dinner might be nice... And maybe,’ she tacked on dutifully, ‘I could persuade you to extend your stay on the ship...?’

‘Maybe,’ Daniel said, non-committal.

He thought that that kind of conversation would hit a roadblock in under thirty seconds. No, this evening would be about finding out about the cruise and her fellow crew members.

And finding out about her. She’d been on the verge of saying something about where her limited income went and he had to admit that he was curious. Unlike the women he had dated in the past, she was reluctant to try and engage his attention by bombarding him with every single detail about herself. That in itself fired up his curiosity.

‘And you can tell me about your travels,’ she said wistfully. ‘Where you’re planning on heading to next...’

‘That’s easy. London.’

‘Really?’

‘I have some...some business to attend to over there...’

‘What do you do?’ Delilah asked with interest. ‘I mean, what’s your profession?’

‘I work in the leisure industry.’

Which was absolutely true. Although in fairness she probably wouldn’t get close to suspecting the role he actually played. Not so much working in the industry as running and dominating it...

‘That probably explains how you managed to get the time off to do a little drifting,’ she said with a smile. ‘I guess if you worked in an office your manager mightn’t be too thrilled if you told him that you wanted time off to explore the artist in you...’

Daniel laughed. He was rarely bothered by a guilty conscience, but he couldn’t help feeling another twinge of guilt at his deliberate manipulation of the truth.

‘I don’t have a manager,’ he murmured. ‘Funny, but I’ve always found it galling to obey someone else’s orders.’

Delilah laughed, her eyes tangling with his. He was so sexy. He had that indefinable sexiness that came with not caring what other people thought about you. He didn’t give a damn if she or anyone else thought that some of the things he said were arrogant. She got the feeling that he wouldn’t care what anyone thought about him.

Her heart picked up speed. The way he was looking at her, his eyes narrowed and brooding, sent little thrills of pleasure racing up and down her spine.

Why shouldn’t she allow herself to feel like a woman again? Surely if she didn’t then Michael would end up having the last word?

Yes, Sarah had told her that she had to learn from her experience and make sensible choices when it came to men, and Delilah knew that her sister was right. But the sensible choice held as much attraction as a bout of flu, and wicked rebellion flared inside her.

She licked her lips in a gesture that Daniel thought was unconsciously erotic.

‘No one likes taking orders from other people,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I guess we’d all like to be able to do our own thing, but unfortunately that’s not how life is.’

Daniel looked around him before settling his gaze back on her flushed face. ‘This strikes me as a pretty loose situation for you,’ he pointed out. ‘Didn’t you tell me that you’re all allowed to do your own thing on the liner, without constraints?’

‘Yes, but I’m only here for a few weeks,’ she reminded him.

‘And then what? Going to hitch a ride on another cruise ship?’

‘If only...’

Daniel leaned forward, intrigued. ‘So tell me...?’

‘There’s nothing to tell.’

From a young age she had learnt that there were just too many kids who were happy to snigger behind her back. She and Sarah had been the sisters with the weird parents. They’d learned that the less they’d said about their home life, the better, so they had kept themselves to themselves. The habit was so deeply engrained that even now, as a young adult, Delilah automatically shied away from confiding.

So what was it about this guy that made her want to open up?

And why did the thought of acting against her better judgement in accepting his invitation feel so appealing?

‘I should be heading back to my cabin...’ She barely recognised her voice and took a few steadying breaths. ‘I... I’m going to do some preparation for my class tomorrow and...and...grab a bit of this beautiful weather... We should be at another port the day after tomorrow... It will be nice to just sit and soak up the sun with my book... You know... It’s all go, go, go when we dock...and my students expect me to have clever things to say about all the places of culture that we visit...so...’

Daniel smiled slowly. ‘So...’ He sat back and thought that he needed to use the afternoon productively himself. Various deals going on required his attention. Time, as they said, was money. ‘Seven sharp,’ he murmured. ‘Out on the deck. Far from the crowds...’

‘You haven’t got permission yet...’ Delilah pointed out.

‘Oh, I’ll get permission,’ he drawled.

‘Because everyone listens and obeys when you talk?’

She’d said that jokingly, but there had been a thread of seriousness behind the jest and she wasn’t all that surprised when he looked at her, eyebrows raised.

‘Without exception...’ he replied, deadly serious.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_af8e6441-aeaf-5f72-9a85-7173837a170b)

DELILAH HADN’T CATERED for dining under a starry sky with an Adonis. When she thought of guys at all now she vaguely assumed that the one meant for her would be a little dull, a little staid and a lot reliable. She’d had her brush with adventure and had pronounced herself jaded with love, only interested in a guy who would never use her, let her down or make inflated pie-in-the-sky promises he had no intention of keeping because he had girlfriends in every other port.

She hadn’t been looking for racing pulses and sweaty excitement, and she couldn’t quite believe that racing pulses and sweaty excitement had found her.

Consequently she possessed nothing in her wardrobe that was remotely suitable for dining with a man like Daniel. He hadn’t talked about his love life, but she imagined him with lots and lots of beautiful women—the female equivalent of him. Head-turning model-types who wouldn’t wear long skirts and baggy tops.

Somehow, despite his artistic inclinations, she couldn’t picture him actually going out with an artist. At least, none of the artists she knew.

In the end at precisely six-thirty, after a quick shower in her cramped en-suite bathroom, she extracted the dressiest of her outfits from the single unit wardrobe.

Another long skirt, but black, and a fitted tee shirt with sleeves to the elbows—also black.

At five foot ten, she owned no high shoes at all, so she slipped on a pair of ballet pumps, giving a welcome rest to her flip-flops.

She left her hair loose.

Even in the brief length of time it had been exposed to the blistering sun it had lightened in colour. She was accustomed to tying it back. It was just more practical. Now, staring at her reflection in the mirror, she realised that the long, unruly hair she had always wished she could tame didn’t look half bad.

Heart beating madly, she made her way to the outer deck to find him—she had had no idea where exactly he might be.

The sky was velvety black and pricked with tiny glittering stars. As he had said the ocean, dark and fathomless, was as still as a sheet of glass. The air was balmy, salty, indescribably fresh.

The sound of the passengers inside was barely discernible out here. There were a few couples strolling around, but most had confined themselves to the upper deck, which was more brightly lit and allowed easier access to the entertainment taking place inside.

Tonight, someone was doing a cabaret, and Delilah guiltily thought that it was a true indication of the finances of the liner that the person singing was really not terribly good—but then, as with Stan, Alfie, who was in charge of entertainment, was working on a tight budget.