All Night Long

‘Not strictly,’ he conceded. ‘But near enough.’ He paused. ‘Are you going on holiday?’

Ally pressed her lips together, wishing she hadn’t been quite so outspoken. But it was too late now, so— ‘Yes,’ she admitted unwillingly. And then, because she felt the need to explain that she wasn’t one of those sad people who holiday alone, ‘I’m going to stay with friends.’

‘In Nassau?’

No, San Cristobál.

But Ally didn’t contradict him. ‘Yes, Nassau,’ she lied, looking down into her glass as she spoke in case her eyes betrayed her. ‘Have you been there?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ He was laconic. ‘I’ve been there. I’ve been all over the Caribbean. My—that is, the company I work for charters sailing craft to travel firms and private individuals. I used to spend holidays crewing on sloops and schooners.’

Ally was intrigued. ‘It sounds fun.’

‘It was.’ He nodded. ‘Hard work, too, particularly if we ran into bad weather.’

‘Hurricanes, you mean?’ Ally’s eyes were wide.

‘Hardly.’ His lips twitched. ‘You don’t try to outrun a hurricane. But, if the barometer’s falling, and you’ve got a party of inexperienced tourists on board, you make for the nearest landfall.’

‘I see.’ Ally felt foolish.

‘That’s not to say we didn’t encounter a squall from time to time,’ he assured her gently. ‘It rains, you know, even in the Caribbean.’

Ally managed a small smile. ‘Not a lot, I hope.’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘And not usually at this time of year. I guess you’ll be glad to leave the cold weather behind.’

‘Mmm.’ Ally relaxed again, the anticipation of spending the rest of January and most of February in a warmer climate bringing its own excitement. ‘I’ve never been to the Caribbean before.’

‘You’ll love it,’ he told her, as the waiter arrived with their first course. ‘Plenty of sunshine, warm seas, and some of the best seafood in the world.’

Ally smiled, picking up her spoon to tackle her soup. ‘No place for a vegetarian, then?’ she murmured drily.

‘No.’ His eyes showed his amusement. ‘Do you think I’m biased?’

‘Why wouldn’t you be?’

‘Yeah.’ He forked up a mouthful of his green salad. ‘I have to admit, I’d hate to live anywhere else.’

Ally licked her lips. ‘Have you been on holiday in England?’ she asked, amazed at the ease with which the words slipped off her tongue. But, what the hell? she thought determinedly. She was never likely to see him again, and he was so easy to talk to.

‘Actually, I’ve been in London on business,’ he replied, evidently not offended by her question. ‘I came to visit the Boat Show at Earl’s Court. Do you know it?’

‘Well, I know Earl’s Court,’ said Ally, crumbling the roll the waiter had left on her plate. ‘But I’ve never been to the Boat Show. I don’t live in London, you see. I live in the north of England. That’s why I’m spending the night here. It would have been too much of a gamble to risk connecting with my flight in the morning.’

‘Ah.’ He gave an understanding nod. ‘So your holiday’s begun a day early.’

‘You could say that.’ Ally realised she had finished her soup and felt a moment’s surprise. Talking to Raul, she had completely forgotten the problems she’d been having with eating and she half wished she’d taken a chance and ordered a steak, after all. She replaced her spoon and took a mouthful of her wine before continuing. ‘That was lovely.’

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’

‘Oh, I did.’ Ally propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her linked hands. Then, feeling quite expansive, she added, ‘As a matter of fact, I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. Not since—not since—well, all the fuss.’

Raul regarded her thoughtfully. ‘The divorce?’ he ventured softly, and she found herself nodding her agreement.

‘It was so—ugly,’ she said, with a shudder, hardly aware that the amount she had drunk was loosening her tongue. ‘We had to sell the house, move into a much smaller semi. And because Sam and Ryan are at college, I’ve had to do most of the organising on my own.’

‘Tough.’ Raul was sympathetic. ‘Why couldn’t your—ex-husband lend a hand?’

‘Jeff?’ Ally grimaced. ‘He wasn’t there. He left for Canada before the decree nisi. He’s always wanted to travel, and if—when—he marries Kelly he’ll probably apply for a Canadian passport.’

Raul frowned. ‘What does your husband do?’

‘Do? As in, for a living?’ She pulled a face. ‘He’s a biology teacher.’

‘Biology?’

Raul grinned and suddenly Ally was grinning, too. ‘Yes. Ironic, isn’t it?’ She stifled a laugh. ‘You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’

‘So this woman you mentioned, she’s a teacher, too?’

‘Mmm.’ Ally bent her head, aware that she was being far too familiar, and tried to tone the conversation down. ‘She—er—she came to Jeff’s school on one of those exchange schemes. According to him it was love at first sight.’

‘You don’t believe it?’

‘Oh, no.’ Ally looked up, her eyes widening. ‘I believe it. She’s one of those petite blondes that all men seem to find irresistible. Well, men of a certain age anyway.’

‘I don’t,’ said Raul at once, and Ally gave him a retiring look.

‘You’re not as old as Jeff,’ she said. ‘Give it time.’

‘I don’t need to.’ Raul studied her face with disturbing intensity. ‘I wouldn’t leave you for a bleached blonde.’

Ally dimpled. ‘How do you know she was a bleached blonde?’

‘Aren’t they always?’ Raul waited until the waiter had removed their plates before continuing, ‘Desperate women, who can’t get a man of their own so they resort to stealing someone else’s.’

‘I don’t think Jeff put up much opposition,’ said Ally wryly, and Raul shrugged.

‘More fool him.’

She giggled then. ‘You’re awfully good for my ego, do you know that?’

‘I aim to please.’

‘Yes, you do, don’t you?’ The colour in her cheeks deepened becomingly. ‘I wonder why?’

Now it was Raul’s turn to pull a face. ‘That sounds suspiciously like a criticism,’ he remarked drily. ‘Has no one told you what an attractive woman you are?’

‘Not recently, no,’ Ally admitted. ‘Who are you? Some kind of guardian angel employed to comfort lonely women?’

‘My name’s Raul, not Gabriel,’ he retorted, refilling her wine glass. ‘Believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve invited a woman I’d never met before to have dinner with me. I know you think I’m stringing you a line, but I’m not. I genuinely am enjoying myself.’

‘So’m I.’ Ally looked down into her glass, amazed at her own audacity. ‘I’m glad you asked me to have dinner with you.’

‘Yeah. Me, too,’ he conceded, touching his glass to hers. ‘Here’s to us.’

‘To us,’ she repeated obediently, wishing they had longer than tonight to get to know one another better, and was aware of him watching her as she sipped her wine.

The main course was just as delicious as the first, although in all honesty Ally was hardly aware of what she was eating. Afterwards, all she remembered was that Raul had offered her a taste of his steak, and the intimacy of sharing his food had extinguished everything else.

She also knew she had never been as relaxed with a man in her life. Not even Jeff, who had usually dominated their conversations with his work, his problems. Looking back, she was forced to acknowledge that although she had always thought they had a good marriage, it had hardly been a partnership in the real sense of the word. For years, she’d let Jeff make all the decisions and, because she’d seldom objected, he’d begun to believe that she didn’t have an opinion of her own.

Still, she could hardly blame him for that…

She declined a dessert and, instead of staying at the table, they went to have their coffee in the adjoining lounge. They were shown to a table in the shade of a palm. There were two comfortable armchairs and a low sofa set around the table and Ally chose the sofa, expecting Raul to take one of the armchairs opposite.

But he didn’t.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked, when his thigh brushed against hers as he seated himself beside her. She managed to get, ‘Not at all,’ past the sudden constriction in her throat. She was intensely aware of his closeness, however, and of the fact that his weight depressed the cushion beneath her hip.

‘I suppose you’re staying at the hotel, too,’ she said quickly, to distract herself from the powerful length of his legs that he was forced to fold beneath the table, and Raul waited until the waiter had served their coffee before replying.

‘Fourth floor,’ he told her easily. ‘How about you?’

‘Oh, I’m staying here—’

‘I know that.’ The look he gave her assured her that he hadn’t been deceived by her attempt at subterfuge. ‘Which floor?’

‘I—the first, I think.’

‘Don’t you know?’

Of course she did. And it wasn’t the first.

Pretending to be indignant, she exclaimed, ‘Naturally I know which floor my room’s on.’

Raul’s eyes were far too discerning. ‘I happen to know the first floor is given over to offices and conference suites,’ he remarked levelly. ‘If you don’t want to tell me where your room is, okay. You don’t have to lie about it, Diana.’

Diana!

Ally felt awful. ‘I—my name’s not Diana,’ she admitted weakly. ‘It’s Ally. Ally Sloan.’

‘No kidding?’

He didn’t sound surprised and she looked at him a little warily. ‘You knew?’

‘Well, if you were prepared to lie about which floor your room was on—’

‘I wasn’t lying, exactly.’

‘No.’ He was sceptical. ‘Don’t tell me, they’re accommodating you in one of the banqueting halls?’

‘You don’t have to be sarcastic,’ she said, hurt by his tone. ‘If I were better at this I wouldn’t have chosen that floor in the first place.’

‘Why would you want to be better at lying to people?’ he demanded in a low disturbing voice. ‘Have I given you any reason to be suspicious of me?’

‘No.’ Ally’s tongue circled her lips in innocent provocation. ‘But I didn’t know that when you spoke to me in the bar.’

Raul’s eyes darkened. ‘And you feel you know me better now?’

Ally swallowed. ‘Well—yes.’

His smile troubled her, but before she had had a chance to wonder what it meant, his hand covering hers in her lap drove all other thoughts out of her head. ‘I’m glad,’ he said, and she was supremely conscious of his knuckles digging into her thigh, causing a wave of heat to dart upwards into her groin. ‘You don’t have to be afraid of me.’

‘I’m not.’

The words came out automatically but she wasn’t at all sure she believed them. Something was warning her that he hadn’t been completely honest with her either, and while it was easy to put it down to her own over-active imagination, she still found his attention hard to justify. She simply wasn’t the type to attract a man like him—a man as young as him—and she wasn’t sure how he expected her to proceed.

But he was attractive, and the hand holding hers in her lap was strong and masculine. It reminded her that it had been too long since she’d had a man’s hands on her body, and she wondered what he would say if she confessed that she’d only ever been to bed with one man in her entire life. She was hopelessly naïve when it came to the way men and women conducted themselves today, and although Sam had done her best to educate her, she’d never expect her mother to find herself in a situation like this.

However, thinking about Sam made her realise how shocked her daughter would be if she could see her now. It was one thing for Sam to expound the sexual advantages women enjoyed today and quite another for her to face the fact that her mother was still a comparatively young woman and might be sexually attracted to some other man. Sam was disgusted with her father’s behaviour but that didn’t mean she’d forgive her mother’s transgressions, even if the circumstances were totally different now.

Tugging her fingers out of Raul’s grasp, Ally took refuge in her coffee, almost spilling it when he squeezed her thigh. As he did so, all the bones in her limbs turned to water and a pulse she’d hardly been aware of before beat insistently between her legs. Dear God, she thought, did he know what he was doing to her; had he guessed how emotionally starved she was?

‘Would you like another drink?’

To her relief, he removed his hand from her thigh and contented himself with turning sideways to face her. His knee nudged her leg and she had to steel herself not to move away. But perhaps another drink wasn’t a bad idea, she thought breathlessly. It might help to calm the nerves jumping in her stomach.

‘Why not?’ she said, promising herself she’d have one more drink and then say goodnight. She wanted to be up bright and early in the morning. After all the effort Suzanne had made, the least she could do was not to miss the plane.

Raul summoned the waiter and ordered himself a Scotch over ice and Ally another vodka and tonic. Even the drink she’d chosen was a cliché, she thought impatiently. Why couldn’t she have ordered a champagne cocktail or a spritzer?

She noticed that Raul had put one arm along the back of the sofa now and she wished she had the nerve to sit back in her seat and see what he would do. As it was, she was perched on the edge of the cushions, her knees pressed tightly together.

The waiter returned with their drinks and Ally picked up her glass and took a reassuring gulp. But she had the feeling it would take more than another drink to make her relax. She was far too tense for relaxation; far too aware of him and the temptation he evinced.

‘So what made you decide to go to the Bahamas?’ he asked, lifting his own drink to his lips.

‘Oh—you know.’ Ally shrugged, collecting her thoughts. ‘Sam thought it would be a good idea for me to have a holiday.’

‘Your daughter?’

‘Mmm.’ She smiled. ‘Like I said, she feels she has to look after me.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Raul regarded her gently. ‘You have that effect on people.’

‘Oh, I don’t think—’

‘I mean it.’ To her consternation, she felt the brush of his fingers against her nape. ‘You’re very appealing, Ally. It’s quite a novelty to meet a woman who is so lacking in self-conceit.’

Ally blushed. She couldn’t help it. ‘You’re just trying to embarrass me now,’ she accused him uncomfortably. She picked up her glass again. ‘When I’ve had this, I’m going to have to say goodnight.’

Raul glanced at the narrow gold watch on his wrist. ‘It’s early yet,’ he protested.

‘For you, maybe.’ Ally caught herself before she admitted that she was usually in bed by half-past ten these days. She glanced behind her. ‘I just want to speak to the waiter first.’

‘The waiter?’

‘In the restaurant,’ Ally explained. Then, with a certain amount of reticence, ‘I want to ask him to add the cost of my dinner to my room bill, that’s all.’ She looked round again. ‘I wonder where he is?’

‘It’s dealt with.’ Raul took a deep breath as Ally turned confused eyes in his direction. ‘I signed the bill before we left the restaurant.’

‘Oh, but—’

‘I hope you’re not going to embarrass me by refusing to let me buy your dinner,’ he said mildly. ‘It was my pleasure. As I said before, this has been a very pleasant evening.’

‘For me, too,’ said Ally impulsively, and he tugged on a strand of her hair.

‘Then perhaps you’ll allow me to escort you to your room?’ he suggested, causing her stomach to plunge uncertainly. He grinned. ‘I’m sure Sam would approve.’

Ally was equally sure that Sam wouldn’t, but she could hardly say that. Not when he had been kind enough to pay for her drinks and her dinner, and for the wine she had consumed so freely throughout the meal. So, ‘All right,’ she agreed, a little breathily, and forced herself not to flinch when he put a hand in the small of her back as he guided her out of the lounge a few minutes later.

CHAPTER THREE

IT HAD been a dull overcast morning when they’d left London but Nassau was basking in the heat of the afternoon sun. Ally estimated that the temperature outside the airport buildings was hovering somewhere close to ninety. Heat shimmered above the tarmac of the runways and the breeze that stirred the flags hanging limply from their poles was barely enough to temper the humidity that drifted into the Arrivals Hall.

She and her fellow passengers were waiting for their luggage to be unloaded onto the carousels, and, exchanging a rueful smile with a young mother who was trying to appease two fretful children, Ally tried to rekindle the optimism she’d felt when she’d left Newcastle the afternoon before. She was almost there, she thought determinedly. According to Suzanne, it was just a short flight from New Providence to San Cristobál, where her friend and her husband ran a small hotel. Suzanne had said someone would meet her here at the airport and escort her to the small plane that would take her on the final leg of her journey, and, apart from her own foolish feelings, everything was going according to plan.

Only it wasn’t, Ally reflected unhappily. Nothing had gone according to plan since she’d allowed Raul—if that really was his name—to pick her up in the hotel bar the night before. Ever since then everything had gone anything but according to plan and she was having a hard time fighting the suspicion that perhaps this holiday wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

Which was defeatist, perhaps, but it was how she felt. Last night she’d done something totally reckless, totally irresponsible, and all she’d really wanted to do this morning was get on the train again and go home. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could do what she’d done and not get a conscience about it. She’d acted completely out of character, and she dreaded to think how her daughter would feel if she ever found out.

Of course, there was no reason why Sam should find out, she assured herself. No matter how much she’d wanted to do it, she hadn’t cashed in her air ticket or cancelled her trip, and surely by the time she got back she’d have forgotten all about last night. She doubted if Suzanne would blame her, if she confided in her, but then Suzanne was a woman of the world whereas, for all her modern outlook, Sam could be incredibly old-fashioned when it came to the people she loved.

‘Mrs Sloan?’

The voice came from behind her and when she turned Ally found a man in a short-sleeved shirt and khaki shorts gazing cheerfully at her. He was very tanned, with a fan of creases at each side of his blue eyes that seemed to indicate he spent a lot of time outdoors. Grey-blond hair escaped untidily from the sides of the baseball cap he was wearing back to front and his smile revealed white, but slightly crooked, teeth.

‘Yes, I’m Mrs Sloan,’ she said, and he nodded.

‘I thought you must be.’ His grin deepened. ‘Suze said to look out for a tall good-looking woman and she wasn’t wrong.’ He pulled off his cap and held out his hand. ‘Mike Mclean at your service, Mrs Sloan. I’m here to fly you over to Saint Chris.’

‘Saint Chris?’

Ally arched an enquiring brow and he gestured towards the carousel. ‘San Cristobál,’ he explained. ‘D’you want to point out your bags and we’ll be on our way?’

‘My bags?’ Ally turned back to the conveyor belt that was now moving. ‘Oh—yes.’ She shook her head a little dazedly. ‘I thought—that is, I assumed that whoever Suzanne had sent would be waiting outside.’

‘In this heat?’ Mclean grimaced. ‘No. So long as we go through Customs together no one objects.’ He saw her move forward. ‘That’s one of them?’

In a short while, Mclean had the sports holdall she had borrowed from Ryan and her own suitcase on a luggage trolley and was propelling them towards the exit. Although he wasn’t a particularly tall man, he was obviously strong and capable, and Ally felt no qualms about putting herself into his hands. Indeed, it was a relief to be free of the responsibility for getting to her destination, and she fanned herself a little weakly when they emerged into the sunlight.

‘It’s this way,’ he said, directing her along the walkway that led towards the commuter terminal. ‘Did you have a good journey?’

‘Um—fairly good.’ Ally was loath to tell him that she’d slept most of the way. But she’d been exhausted and, after lunch had been served, she’d flaked out.

‘Marvellous things, these big jets,’ commented Mclean amiably. ‘Makes my little Piper look like a kid’s toy.’ He grinned again. ‘I guess you’d know about kids. Suze tells me you’ve got two of your own.’

‘They’re hardly kids,’ murmured Ally. She paused. ‘Do you have children, Mr Mclean?’

‘The name’s Mike,’ he said at once. ‘And, no. I’m afraid I’ve never had that pleasure. I’m what Suze calls a crusty old bachelor. More’s the pity.’

Ally smiled. ‘Hardly crusty,’ she said. ‘And please call me Ally. Mrs Sloan makes me sound like my mother-in-law. My ex-mother-in-law, I mean,’ she added hastily. ‘I’m divorced.’

‘Yeah. Suze told me that, too,’ he admitted, his tone sympathetic. Then, ‘But you’ve done the right thing coming out here. Smuggler’s Cove is a beautiful spot.’

‘Is it?’ Smuggler’s Cove was where Suzanne and her husband, Peter Davis, had their hotel. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing it. To seeing the whole island,’ she appended. ‘Is it very big?’

‘Nah. About eight miles long and five across at best.’ He saw she was flagging and waited for her to catch up. ‘Of course, Suze will have told you that the Ramirezes own most of the island, but what’s left is pretty damn spectacular, I can tell you.’

Ally frowned. ‘Why would Suzanne have mentioned—who was it you said?—the Ramirezes to me?’

‘Well, because Julia is going to marry their son,’ explained Mike carelessly. Julia was Suzanne’s daughter, Ally recalled. He pointed at the single-engined aircraft that awaited them on the tarmac. ‘There’s my pride and joy. And don’t worry; I’ve got an icebox on board. I bet you could murder a cold drink?’

He hastened ahead so that by the time she’d reached the small Cherokee he’d already stowed her bags in the back. ‘Welcome aboard,’ he said, helping her up the short flight of steps into the cabin. ‘You’re going to feel a whole lot better when we get off the ground.’

Ally hoped so. Right now, she felt hot and uncomfortable, the shirt and denim trousers that had felt too thin in London now damp and sticking to her skin. She’d removed the jacket she’d worn to travel in as soon as she’d got off the plane but she was still sweating. She should have brought a change of clothes in her hand luggage, she thought ruefully. But then, this morning she’d been too bemused to think of things like that.

This morning…

Pushing that thought aside, she settled into the seat beside Mike and sipped a cola as he completed his pre-flight checks. Then he adjusted his earphones and she heard the static buzz as the control tower responded to his request for clearance for take-off.

‘Not long now,’ he said, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. ‘These guys are pretty efficient.’

Ally nodded, hoping she wouldn’t disgrace herself. She’d never flown in such a small aircraft before and, when Mike taxied to the end of the runway, she felt her stomach quiver.

But then they were moving, faster and faster, and in no time at all it seemed they were off the ground and soaring into the blue, blue sky. Nassau, and the island of New Providence, fell away below them and although she still felt a little nervous, her fears seemed foolish. Mike was obviously at home behind the controls and his enthusiasm was infectious.

‘Is that San Cristobál?’ she asked, after a few minutes, noticing another island on the horizon. But Mike shook his head.

‘Hell, no,’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s Andros. It’s the biggest island in the group. San Cristobál is one of the smallest.’

‘Oh.’

Ally grimaced and Mike grinned at her. ‘Hey, it was a reasonable question,’ he said. Then, pointing down, he added, ‘Can you see the reef? It runs the whole length of Andros. People come from all over the world to dive around the coral.’