The Surprise De Angelis Baby

Daniel had been expecting many things, but he hadn’t been expecting this. The girl looking at him questioningly was tall and reed-slender and her hair was a vibrant shade of copper—a thousand different shades from red through to auburn—and had been tugged back into a loose ponytail which hung over one shoulder.

He sauntered into the room and looked around him at the twenty or so people, all seated in front of canvasses. A long shelf at the back held various artists’ materials and on the walls several paintings were hanging—presumably efforts from the members of the class.

‘If I’m interrupting I can always return later...’

‘Not at all, Mr...?’

‘Daniel.’ He held out his hand and the girl hurried forward and briefly shook it. ‘I joined the cruise yesterday,’ he expanded, ‘and I haven’t had time to sign up to any of the courses...’

‘But you’re interested in art?’ That brief meeting of hands had sent a sharp little frisson skittering through her and it was all she could do to maintain eye contact with him. ‘I’m Delilah Scott, and I’m in charge of the art course...’

Up close, he was truly spectacular. With an artist’s eye she could appreciate the perfect symmetry of his lean face. The brooding amazing eyes, the straight nose and the wide, sensual mouth. His hair looked sun-washed—not quite blond, but nothing as dull as brown—and there was something about him...something strangely charismatic that rescued him from being just another very good-looking guy.

She would love to paint him. But right now...

‘I can explain the course that I run...’

She launched into her little set speech and edged slightly away, because standing too close was making her feel jumpy. She’d had enough of men to last a lifetime, and the last thing she needed was to start feeling jumpy around one now.

‘Of course I don’t know what standard you’re at, but I’m sure you’ll be able to fit in whether you’re a complete beginner or at a more intermediary level. I can also show you my qualifications... You would have to return later to get the proper lowdown, because as you can see I’m in the middle of taking a class and this one will last until lunchtime... But perhaps you’d like to see some of the work my class have been doing...?’

Not really, Daniel thought, but he tilted his head to one side and nodded with a show of interest.

She was as graceful as a ballerina. He liked women curvy and voluptuous. This girl was anything but. She was willowy, and dressed in just the sort of appalling clothes he disliked on a woman. A loose ankle-length skirt in a confusing number of clashing colours and a floaty top that left way too much to the imagination.

Personally, he had never been a big fan of having to work on his imagination when it came to women. He liked to see what he was getting, and he’d never had any trouble in finding beautiful women keen to oblige. Small, tight clothes showing off curves in all the right places... Girls who were in it for fun, no-strings-attached relationships. True, the occasional woman might get a little too wrapped up in planning for a future that wasn’t going to happen, but that was fine. He just ditched her. And not once had he ever felt a qualm of guilt or unease about doing that because he was straight with every single one of them upfront.

He wasn’t ready for marriage. He wasn’t even in it for anything approaching long term. He didn’t want a partner to meet his family and close friends and start getting ideas. He didn’t do home-cooked meals or watching telly or anything remotely domesticated.

He thought of Kelly Close and his lips thinned. Oh, no, he didn’t do any of that stuff...

As far as Daniel De Angelis was concerned, at this point in his life work was way more important than women, and when and if he decided to tie the knot—which was nowhere in the near future, especially as Theo was now happily planning a big wedding himself, thereby paving the way for Daniel to take his time getting there—he intended to marry someone who didn’t just see the benefits of his bank balance.

He’d had his brush with a scheming gold-digger and once was plenty enough. Kelly Close—an angelic vision with the corrupt heart of a born opportunist. He slammed the door on pointless introspection. Enough that she had been a valuable learning curve. Now he had fun. Uncomplicated fun with sexy little things, like the blonde who would be waiting for him when he jumped ship.

Delilah Scott was showing him around the room, encouraging him to look at what the aspiring artists had already accomplished while they had been on the cruise.

‘Fascinating,’ he murmured. Then he turned to her before she could conclude the tour. ‘So—lunch. Where shall we meet and what time?’

‘Sorry?’ Delilah asked in confusion.

‘You said you wanted to give me the lowdown on the course. Over lunch sounds good. When and where? I’m guessing there’s only one restaurant on the liner?’

Delilah felt a rush of heat swamp her and sharply brought herself back down to earth. ‘Did I say that? I didn’t think I had. You’re more than welcome to just turn up tomorrow morning for the class, or you could join in right now if you like... There’s lots of paper...pencils...’

Those amazing green eyes, the opaque colour of burnished glass, made her want to stare and keep on staring.

‘I intend to spend the morning considering my options,’ Daniel inserted smoothly. ‘Checking out what the other courses are...whether they’re more up my street... I’ll meet you for lunch at twelve-thirty in the restaurant. You can tell me all about your course and see whether it fits the bill or not...’

Not his type, but eye-catching all the same. Skin as smooth as satin, sherry-coloured eyes, and she was pale gold after time spent in the sun. And her mouth... Its full lips parted now as she looked at him.

‘I don’t think there’s any need for me to explain the course over lunch...’

‘You’re in the service industry... Surely that implies that you have to serve the customer? I’m just after some information...’

‘I know that, but...’

But Michael had left her wary of men like this one. Good-looking men who were a little offbeat, a little off the beaten track...

Eight months ago Michael Connor had sauntered into her life—all long, dark hair and navy blue eyes and a sexy, sexy smile that had blown her away. At twenty-seven, he already had a fledgling career in photography, and he had charmed her with the amazing photos he had taken over the years. He had wined and dined her and talked about taking her to the Amazon, so that she could paint and he could take pictures.

He had swept her away from all her miserable, niggling worries about money and held out a shimmering vision of adventure and excitement. Two free spirits travelling the world. She had fallen in love with him and with those thrilling possibilities. She had dared to think that she had found a soul mate—someone with whom she could spend the rest of her life. They had kissed, but he hadn’t pressed her into bed, and now she wondered how long he would have bided his time until deciding that kissing and cuddling wasn’t what he was in it for.

Not much longer—because he’d already had a girlfriend. Someone in one of those countries he had visited. She’d chanced upon the fact only because she had happened to see a text message flash up on his screen. When she had confronted him, he’d laughed and shrugged. So he wasn’t the settling down type...? He had an open relationship with his girlfriend so what was the big deal...? He had lots of women...he was single, wasn’t he? And he’d hung around with her, hadn’t he? She hadn’t really thought that they were going to get married and have two point two kids and a dog, had she?

She had misread him utterly. She’d been taken in by a charming facade and by her own longing for a little adventure.

She’d been a fool.

Her sister had always sung the praises of stability and a good old-fashioned guy who could provide, whose feet were firmly planted on the ground. She’d seen no virtue in their parents’ chaotic lives, which had left them with debt and financial worries.

She should have paid more attention to those sermons.

‘I won’t occupy a lot of your time,’ Daniel murmured, intrigued by this woman who didn’t jump at the offer of having a meal with him.

Delilah blinked, ready to shake her head in instant refusal.

‘There’s a bar... We can have something light and you can tell me all about your course. You can sell it to me.’ He flung his hands wide in a gesture that was both exotic and self-deprecating at the same time. ‘I’m caught on the horns of a dilemma...’ Again, he found it weirdly invigorating to actually be in the position of trying to persuade a woman to join him for a meal ‘You wouldn’t want to drive a man into the arms of learning palmistry, would you?’

Delilah swallowed down a responding smile. ‘I suppose if you really think it’s that important...’

‘Great. I’ll see you in the bar at twelve-thirty. You can hone your pitch before we meet...’

Delilah watched as he strolled out of the room. She felt as though she had been tossed into a tumble drier with the speed turned to high and she didn’t like it. But she’d agreed to meet him and she would keep their meeting brief and businesslike.

She could barely focus on her class for the next three hours. Her mind was zooming ahead to meeting Daniel in the bar. And sure enough when, at a little after twelve-thirty, she hesitantly walked into the small saloon bar, which was already filling up with passengers whose courses had likewise ended for the morning, there he was. Seated at a small table, nursing a drink in front of him.

He was eye-catching—and not just because he was noticeably younger than everyone else. He would have been eye-catching in any crowd. She threaded her way through to him, pausing to chat to some of the other passengers.

Daniel watched her with lazy, deceptive indolence. He hadn’t boarded this third-rate liner for adventure. He had boarded it for information.

He looked at her narrowly, thoughts idly playing through his head. She seemed to know everyone and she was popular. He could tell from the way the older passengers laughed in her company, totally at ease. He was sure that she would be equally popular amongst the staff.

Who was worth keeping on? Who would get the sack immediately? He wouldn’t need any of the teachers on board, but the crew would be familiar with the liner, would probably have proved themselves over a number of years and might be an asset to him. It would certainly save him having to recruit from scratch and then face the prospect of some of them not being up to the task. When it came to pleasing the wealthy there could be no room for error.

Would she be able to help him with the information he needed? Naturally he wouldn’t be able to tell her why...

Not for a second did Daniel see this as any form of deception. As far as he was concerned he would merely be making the most of a possible opportunity, no harm done.

He rose as she finally approached him.

‘You came,’ he said with a slashing smile, indicating the chair next to him. ‘I wasn’t sure whether you would. You seemed a little reluctant to take me up on my offer.’

‘I don’t normally fraternise with the passengers,’ Delilah said stiffly as she sat down.

‘You seemed familiar enough with them just then...’

‘Yes, but...’

‘What can I get you to drink?’

His eyes roved over her colt-like frame. He watched the way her fingers nervously played with the tip of her ponytail and the way her eyes dipped to avoid his. If he had had the slightest suspicion that she knew who he was he might have wondered whether her shyness was some kind of act to stir his interest—because women, in his company, were usually anything but coy.

‘Just some juice, please.’ Delilah was flustered by the way he looked at her—as though he could see straight into her head.

Juice in hand, and with a refill of whisky for him, he returned to settle into the chair and looked at her.

‘So, you wanted to know about the course...’

Delilah launched into chatter. She found that she was drawn to look at him, even though she didn’t want to. It wasn’t just that he was a passenger—something about him sent disturbing little chills racing up and down her spine and sent her alarm bells into overdrive.

‘I’ve brought some brochures for you to have a look at...’

She rummaged in her capacious bag and extracted a few photocopied bits of paper, which she self-consciously thrust at him. Several had samples of her work printed inside, and these he inspected, glancing between her face and the paintings she had done at college.

‘Impressive,’ he mused.

‘Have you seen any other courses that interest you? Aside...’ She allowed herself a polite smile. ‘Aside from the palmistry?’

‘I’m tempted by astronomy... When it comes to stars, I feel I could become something of an expert...’ Daniel murmured. His last girlfriend had been an actress. Did that count? ‘But, no...’ He sat back briskly, angling his chair so that he could stretch his legs to one side. ‘I’m only here for a week. Probably just to take in a couple of stops. I think I’ll go for yours...’

A week? Delilah felt an inexplicable surge of disappointment, but she pinned a smile on her face and kept it there as she sipped some of the orange juice.

‘Well, I can’t guarantee I can turn you into Picasso at the end of a week... I mean, most of the other passengers are here for the full month, and then we have more joining us when we dock at Naples...’

‘Seems a bit haphazard,’ Daniel said. ‘Put it this way—I managed to get a place at the last minute, and for whatever duration I chose...’

‘It’s...it’s a little more informal than most cruises, I guess,’ Delilah conceded. ‘But that’s because it’s a family-run business. Gerry and Christine like the fact that people can dip in and out...’

‘Gerry and Christine?’

Ockley. He knew their names, knew how far into debt they were. Little wonder people could dip in and out of the cruise at whim. Any business was good business when it came to making ends meet.

‘They run the cruise ship. Actually, it’s theirs, and they’re great.’

She felt herself relax, because he was so clearly interested in what she was saying. He was just another keen passenger, and if his looks made her a bit jittery then that was her problem and, after the debacle with Michael, it was one she could easily deal with.

‘Are they? In what way?’

‘Just very interested in all the passengers—and the crew have been with them for ages.’

‘Is that a fact...? And I guess you know all the crew...?’

‘They’re wonderful. Devoted to their jobs. They all love the fact that they’re pretty much allowed free rein with what they do... Of course they all follow the rules, but for instance the chef is allowed to do as he likes and so is the head of entertainment. I’ve been very lucky to get this job...’ She guiltily thought of her sister, but she would be back home soon and all would be fine.

Daniel saw the shadow cross her face and for a few seconds was intrigued enough to want to find out more about the woman sitting in front of him. But there was no time in his busy, compacted schedule for curiosity about a random stranger, however strangely attractive he might find her. He had to cut to the chase.

‘So...’ He carried the conversation along briskly. ‘Tomorrow...what time do we start...?’

CHAPTER TWO

‘NOW HAVE A look at the jug. George...see how it forms the centre of the arrangement? With the other two pieces in the background? So that the whole forms a geometric shape...? If you could just make the jug a teeny bit smaller, then I think we’re getting there!’

For the umpteenth time Delilah’s eyes skittered towards the door, waiting for it to be pushed open by Daniel.

Her calm, peaceful enjoyment of her brief window of freedom appeared to have disappeared the moment she had met the man. She had been knocked sideways by his looks, but more than that he had a certain watchfulness about him that she found weirdly compelling...

She was seeing him through the eyes of an artist, she had told herself, over and over again. The arrangement of his features, the peculiar aura of authority and power he emanated was quite unlike anything she had ever seen before in anyone.

She had laughingly told herself that she was reading far too much into someone who was probably a drifter, working his way through the continent. Someone who had managed to accumulate sufficient money to buy himself a few days on the liner so that he could pursue a hobby. Most of the passengers were in their fifties or sixties, on the cruise for the whole time, but there were a number who, like him, were on the cruise for a limited period of time, taking advantage of one or other of the many courses offered while enjoying the ports before disembarking so that they could continue travelling.

He was a traveller.

But she still found herself searching out the door every two minutes, and when—an hour after the class had begun—he pushed it open and strolled into the room she drew her breath in sharply.

‘Class!’ Everyone instantly stopped what they were doing and looked at Daniel. ‘I’d like to introduce a new recruit! His name is Daniel and he’s an aspiring artist, so I hope you’ll welcome him in and show him the ropes if I happen to be busy with someone. Daniel... I’ve set aside a seat for you, with an easel. You never mentioned what level you feel you might be at...?’

Daniel didn’t think that there was any level that might apply to him. ‘Basic.’ He smiled, encompassing every single person in the room, and was met with smiles in return, before their attention reverted to their masterpieces in the making.

‘In that case, why don’t you start with pencil? You can choose whichever softness you feel comfortable with and perhaps try your hand at reproducing the arrangement on the table in front of the class...’

She was extremely encouraging. She had kind things to say about even the most glaringly amateurish efforts. She took time to help and answered all the questions thrown at her patiently. When he told her, as he stared at the empty paper pinned to his easel, that he was waiting for inspiration to come and that you couldn’t rush that sort of thing, she didn’t roar with laughter but merely suggested that a single stroke of the pencil might be all the inspiration he needed.

He thought that he might have been a little more interested in art at school if he’d had her as his teacher instead of the battleaxe who had told him that the world of art would be better off without his input. Not that she hadn’t had a point...

He’d managed something roughly the shape of one of the objects on the table by the time the class drew to an end, but instead of heading out with everyone else he remained exactly where he was, watching as she tidied everything away.

Delilah could feel his eyes on her as she busied herself returning pencils and foam pads and palette knives to the various boxes on the shelf. She’d been so conscious of him sitting there at the back of the class, sprawled out with his body at an angle and doing absolutely nothing, from what she could see. She’d barely been able to focus.

Now she turned to him and smiled politely. ‘Won’t you be joining the other passengers for some lunch?’ she asked as she began the process of dismounting the easels and stacking them away neatly against the wall, where straps had been rigged to secure them in place.

Daniel linked his fingers behind his head and relaxed back into the chair. ‘I thought you could give me some pointers on my efforts today...’ He swivelled the easel so that it was facing her and Delilah walked slowly towards it.

‘I’m sorry you haven’t managed to accomplish a bit more,’ she said tactfully. ‘I was aiming for more of a realistic reproduction of the jugs...it’s important to really try and replicate what you see at this stage of your art career...’

‘I don’t think I’ll be having a career in art,’ Daniel pointed out.

‘So this is just a hobby for you...? Well, that’s good, as well. Hobbies can be very relaxing, and once you become a bit more familiar with the pencil—once your confidence starts growing—you’ll find it the most relaxing thing in the world...’

‘Is that what you do to relax?’ he asked, making no move to shift.

‘I really must get on and tidy away this stuff...’

‘No afternoon classes?’

‘The afternoons, generally speaking, are downtime for everyone. The passengers like to go out onto the deck, or else sit in the shade and catch up with their reading or whatever homework’s been set...’

‘And what do you do?’

‘I... I do a little painting...sometimes I sit by the pool on the top deck and read...’

Daniel enjoyed the way she blushed. It was a rare occurrence. The women he dated had left their blushing days far behind.

‘I thought we might have lunch again today,’ he suggested, waiting to see what form her refusal would take. ‘As you can see...’ he waved in the vague direction of his easel ‘...my efforts at art are crap.’

‘No one’s efforts at art are anything but good. You forget that beauty is in the eye of the beholder...’

‘How long are you going to be on the liner for?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Are you here for...?’ He whipped out the crumpled cruise brochure from his shorts pocket, twisted it in various directions before finding the bit he wanted. ‘For the full duration of a month?’

‘I can’t see what this has to do with the course, Mr...er... Daniel...’

‘If you’re going to be on the course for the full duration I might be incentivised to stay a bit longer than a week.’

Complete lie—but something about her appealed to him. Yet again she was in an outfit more suitable for one of the middle-aged free spirits on the cruise ship. Another flowing skirt in random colours, and another kind of loose, baggy top that worked hard at concealing her figure—which, he saw as he surreptitiously cast his eye over it, was as slender and as graceful as a gazelle’s.

The libido he had planned on resting while he was on the ship stirred into enthusiastic life as he wondered what the body under the unappealing clothes might be like.

He went for big breasts. She was flat-chested—that much he could see. He went for women who were small and curvy—she was long and willowy. He liked them blonde and blue-eyed. She was copper-haired and brown-eyed.

Maybe it was the novelty... But whatever it was he was happy to go with the flow—not forgetting that she could also be a useful conduit to the information he wanted.

‘Don’t you have the rest of your travel plans already sorted out?’ Delilah was irritated to find herself lingering on the possibility that this man she had spent about fifteen seconds with might stay on for longer than he had originally suggested.

‘I try not to live my life according to too many prearranged plans,’ Daniel murmured, appreciating the delicate bloom of pink in her cheeks. ‘I guess we probably have that in common...’

Delilah grimaced. ‘I wish that was like me,’ she said without thinking. ‘But unfortunately you couldn’t be further from the truth.’ She reddened and spun round, away from those piercing unusual eyes. ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘it would be lovely if you stayed on a bit longer. I’m sure you could become an able artist if you put all your efforts into it.’

She knew that the cruise ship was running at a loss. All the crew knew that. Gerry and Christine had not kept it a secret from them at all. In fact on day one they had called a meeting and apologised straight away for the fact that they couldn’t be paid more. None of the teachers on board had protested. They were there because they loved what they did, and the fact that there was sun and sea in the mix was enough for all of them.

But the Ockleys had suggested that if they could try and persuade some of the passengers to prolong their stay, or even tempt interested holidaymakers into hopping on board for a couple of days to try their hand at one of the many courses... Well, every little would help.