Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (37 page)

“The kitchen is amazing with those brushed steel appliances –”

“– The galley.”

“I love the beautiful glass sinks in the bathroom –”

“– The head.”

I pat his cheek fondly. He never stops teaching me.

“What’s she made of?”

“Solid fibreglass hull.”

“Which means nothing to me,” I admit.

“It means she’s strong and sleek and sea worthy. She’ll protect you in a storm.”

“Any bedrooms?” I blush the minute I mention it.

Amusement tugs at his lips. “There are three staterooms.”

“Three? That’s one each and a spare.”

“One between two and two spares,” he corrects me.

“Pity we’re not sleeping on board then,” I counter.

“Who says we’re not?”

“Do you mean overnight?” I hadn’t even considered he might make this an overnight trip. That would scupper Amanda’s plans for sure. Suddenly it seems I can use nautical terms after all.

“Perhaps another time.”

I stupidly fail to disguise my show of relief.

He narrows his eyes on me. “Is there something you want to tell me, Tabitha?”

“Nothing,” I peep. I pretend to be fascinated with the controls and screens at the helm. I can’t help feeling guilty at lying to him even though it is a white lie. I cringe in the surrounding silence until he drops the matter, removes my fiddling fingers and starts to explain the controls.

“Both helms are fully operational with satellite, GPS, chart-plotter and radar. We have the lot.” The tone of his voice still betrays a touch of suspicion as if half his mind is trying to process it.

“You’re not going to get us lost then?”

“I know the river pretty well by now. But you can be sure I’m not going to lose you.”

Every comment he makes increases my unease about what’s ahead. If I don’t make him less suspicious, he might never let me out of his sight. I turn to face him and before my face reveals any feelings of guilt, I drag his mouth to mine and kiss him thoroughly. Slowly I sense him relax in my arms.

“If you keep that up,” he tells me, drawing his lips from mine, “we’ll never leave the dock. All I’ll want to do is carry you off to a stateroom.”

“No,” I plead, stepping back. “I want to see you handle her.”

“She’s not difficult to handle, once you finally work her out.”

Why do I think every word is an innuendo? He stares again until I feel a sense of shame at my plans to deceive him. It’s stupid really. I’m only doing it so he can have a nice party for his birthday and he’ll like it. In the end.

I stand on deck watching as he unties the boat from the dock.

“How long have you had her?”

“Let me see.” He’s handling the mooring lines with a look of concentration on his face. “More than three years. Less than four.”

He didn’t have a boat the last time I knew him. He would definitely have told me about her if he did. He must have bought her within a few months of our separation. The idea that there might be some connection comes fleetingly to mind but I dismiss it as fanciful.

“Did Harry see her?”

“Sure. Harry and I took quite a few trips together.” He glances briefly at me.

“He never said.” That seems strange. I had no idea Harry did things or went places that he didn’t share with me.

“You would have been away at university by then. More important things on your mind.”

“I suppose so.” Like nursing my broken heart.

Jack jumps back on board, stops what he’s doing and looks at me. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too.” It’s a reflective, special moment, with important words unspoken. We kiss tenderly instead.

After climbing back up to the fly-bridge, Jack returns to his preparations. “Are you ready to set sail with me, Tabitha?” He beckons me over to the starboard helm and places me between his arms at the wheel. It feels like the safest place in the whole world.

“What should I do?”

“Kiss the Captain whenever he commands.”

“Never let it be said I shirk my maritime obligations.” I’m grinning like an idiot.

“That was a hint,” he reminds me.

I turn my head. “Known in business parlance as a mixed message.” He quiets my sass when he lowers his mouth to mine. With his tongue exploring unhurriedly and the water bobbing me back against him every time the boat rises and falls, I feel a slow heat flare up my spine.

Jack releases me to turn on the throaty engines. “Twin six hundred and seventy horse power Volvo Penta’s,” he informs me, steadying me against their sudden lurch. The throbbing strikes up through the soles of my shoes and runs all the way up my legs and beyond. I gasp. “Powerful, huh?”

A smile is my only reply.

I feel him smile back rather than see it. The other boats in the harbour rock as he looks around to assess the situation in all directions, his head turning above mine. My heart thumps with the growing thrill I’m feeling. My excitement at my imminent journey down the Thames in this fantastic thrumming vessel with Jack’s forceful proximity is one body-churning delight.

He has a light touch on the single-lever control and competently pivots her out of the slip, executes a tight S-turn and heads steadily out into the main flow of the river. He aims into the choppy waves as he executes a 180-degree turn.

“Little more than two boat lengths,” he says, pride in her manoeuvrability evident. The acceleration is effortless.

“And you didn’t drop me either.”

“I’ll never drop you, kitten.”

We lower our sunglasses simultaneously against the glitter of bright sunlight glancing off the water. Our stance is wide for balance, my legs within his. When he puts my hands on the wheel, one at a time, and covers them with his own, I feel in perfect harmony with him.

The warm breeze blowing at my temples whips loose strands about my face and I’m glad I tied it back.

“Brilliant,” I laugh.

“I knew you’d love this as much as I do, Tabby.” He works the boat over to the far side of the river, explaining why as we go. “The part of the Thames we’re cruising is one of the busiest waterways anywhere, especially beyond Westminster. We have to stay as far to starboard as possible.”

“What speed are we doing now?”

“About five knots. It keeps everyone safe and allows us to see the sights too.”

He uses his hands to gently turn mine on the wheel making small adjustments when necessary. There are a few sailing boats on the water here allowing the gentle breeze to billow their sails. Way below us two teams of rowers get in some early practice. The eight man teams fly. They’re going a little bit faster than us and Jack has to be aware of it all.

In a few minutes, following a gentle curve in the river, we’re approaching our first bridge. A number of small boats are anchored up near the embankment and a larger ferry passes us downstream.

“See the arches under Battersea Bridge?” He jerks his chin to point out where he’s looking.

I nod, peering in the same direction. “Yes.”

“You have to know what the lights mean. Two amber lights means it’s navigable.”

I see all the arches lit up. “So we can go under any of them?”

“Not exactly. By choice we leave the centre ones over the deepest water channels for the really large boats to use. If you see a flashing white light it’s warning us there’s one coming for sure. When they’re running with the tide they’re not easily manoeuvrable.”

“I can imagine. Where did you learn all this?”

“I took some courses and got my inland waterways licence. I bought the boat when I needed something new to occupy my mind.”

Four years ago? I’m aware my heart is pounding and I tremble slightly.

“Cold?” he asks me.

“No.” I don’t want to go thinking things I ought not to be thinking. “Thank you, Jack, for taking me out on your boat.” I want to cry and I don’t know why.

“It’s my pleasure, baby.” He kisses the top of my head. “You smell good.”

I lean back into him and he takes one hand off the wheel and wraps his arm around my waist. His fingers gently play around the hem of my sweatshirt until they dip beneath and find bare skin. I hear his breath hitch.

“Have you got anything on under there?” His voice sounds gravelly.

I smile at his fantasy. “Absolutely.”

“Just as well. I need to concentrate on running this arch.” But his fingers don’t cease stroking my skin. They travel down past my navel to the tight barrier of my belted hip-hugging jeans. I hear the sound of frustration. It’s clear what his mind is really on.

“Safety first, Skipper,” I remind him, laughing. I can tell he’s lining up to take the bridge. It’s getting much closer.

He puts his hand back over mine on the wheel which I find myself gripping, white knuckled. But he distracts me with a slow grinding thrust into my behind. He already has something worth distracting me with.

“I’ll take the helm for this one and you can do some by yourself later on, when you get the hang.”

“You’d trust me with your boat?”

“I’d –”

“What, Jack?”

“I need to concentrate.”

What did he stop himself from saying?

He returns to his instructions. “In strong tides it’s harder to maintain course on the bends. We have to take extra care not to be swept on to the bridge abutments.”

We’re fast on the bridge and moving swiftly under. I look up as we soar beneath. The granite and iron work is old and dirty and the lapping waters echo in my ears. For a second we’re out of the sunlight and it’s cold. My thumbs hook round Jack’s warm steady fingers.

I laugh nervously. “It feels scary.”

“What does?”

“Under the bridge. Like drowning in the dark.”

“I’d never let that happen to you.” His words reverberate through my mind.

I don’t know what to say. The mood when he speaks almost convinces me he’s talking about something far deeper than my lurid fantasies. Yet I realise his words are simply what I want to hear and I can’t rely on that. The river is a world of illusion.

We pass back into daylight again. Things feel more normal in the sun. Several boats travel up and down river and a barge chugs noisily past. Its captain stands with his hand on the tiller, smoking a pipe.

“Some interesting sights, huh?”

Already we’re approaching the next bridge, on a straight bit of river. “Albert Bridge?” I ask.

“That’s the one. You want to take her through?”

My stomach lurches. “By myself?”

“I’m right behind you.”

“Don’t leave me, Jack.” I don’t know why I say it, out loud, like that. I feel my cheeks burn when he fails to respond with a joke.

“I’m staying right here.” He’s quiet and thoughtful and it’s a very strange moment. “Watch the bridge. Read the signals and choose your approach.” As he removes his hands from mine, my heart thunders. I’m slightly shaky.

This is a suspension bridge with wide spaces beneath through which to pass. Many boats are moored up along its port side. “Which gap should I take?”

“You can see ahead. There’s nothing coming. Any to your starboard – right – and keep well clear of the abutments. Stay cool. You can do it.”

I love the way he trusts me. He makes no attempt to take over even when I let the current drift us a little too close for comfort as I get the feel of the wheel and the forward drive. But I don’t think I really breathe again until I’m through.

As soon as we’re clear I jump round and hug him, completely abandoning my control of the vessel. He swiftly takes over without chiding me.

“Did you like that, kitten?”

“One of the most exciting things I’ve ever done.” I squeeze his neck so tightly I’m sure he can’t swallow. He lets me kiss him as he tries to look past me to what’s coming next.

“Not
the
most exciting thing then,” he ponders, grinning and jiggling his eyebrows at me.

I know what he’s hinting at and he’s right. Not
the
most exciting thing. I’m not telling him that though. All I give him is a disdainful glare. He’s already too bossy for his own good. Except today. Today, I have my Jack back. I really love him when he’s being like this with me.

I really love him.

I release him abruptly and turn to look forward again.

We’re on a straight stretch of river.

“It’s another twelve minutes to Chelsea Bridge so we can relax and enjoy the scenery.”

“You know the river very well.” I briefly wonder if he’s ever taken Amanda with him, like this. But I don’t want her to spoil this day for me any more than I’ve already agreed to let her, so I push her out of my mind.

“I’ve made this trip many times. Look. There’s the peace pagoda.” He points to my right and up ahead.

I stare at the Buddhist temple with the golden statues as we approach. It turns my thoughts to the eternal knot cuff-links I bought him all those years ago on another birthday.