Chapter Twenty-Four
Lilavati
The look on Ant’s face when he sees me makes this dress worth every cent I spent.
The look I get from Emily is a balm to all the slights, digs and snide remarks she’s directed at me over the years.
The looks I get from Mum, Warren and Grandie are icing on the cake.
“Lili, what on earth are you wearing?” Mum hisses quietly, pulling me away from the crowd milling around the door of the luxury bus that’s taking us to the marina where we’ll board tonight’s cruise.
“Perhaps we should follow on later. Give Lili time to change into something more … appropriate,” Warren says, loud enough for the driver of the bus, and most of the guests, to hear. Half of them turn away in embarrassment. The other half gawk shamelessly.
“Lili, you look amazing!” says Louise with a little squeal and a warm hug.
“Don’t worry, Warren. I have a jacket in case Lil gets cold,” Ant says blandly, as though that was Warren’s concern. “Do you need a hand up the steps, Mrs Cooper?” He holds out his arm for Grandie to take.
Everyone else is speechless.
Mum and Warren climb onto the bus behind Ant, Grandie and me, and seat themselves in the row in front of us.
Even from behind, I can see the stiff set of Warren’s shoulders and the droop in my mother’s.
There’s a momentary flash of guilt that I quickly bury.
Sure, this dress is a bit revealing, but it’s in no way indecent.
And I’m a grown woman. I can wear what I want.
“You seem to be having quite the influence on my granddaughter, Mr Stevens,” Grandie says, with all the pomposity at her disposal.
Ant just laughs. Loudly. Causing her to look horrified.
“If you think I can influence your granddaughter to do things she doesn’t want to, you haven’t been paying attention. Lilavati is the strongest woman I’ve ever met. And my mother and sister set the bar pretty damn high.”
“Lili is very headstrong indeed,” Grandie agrees.
“And kindly refrain from cursing, young man.” Which is more about getting the last word in than because of any strong feelings about the word damn.
And to make the point she’d prefer my name were Lili, not Lilavati.
Sadly for her, I suspect that little barb will just make Ant dig in further.
Ant laughs again. Grandie looks like she’s swallowed a frog. I give him a look I hope he interprets as tone it down, but he just winks at me.
“Would we still class damn as a curse word?” he asks, so politely they might be talking about the weather.
“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much.” Grandie’s feathers are really ruffling now.
“Okay, if you say so,” Ant returns mildly before changing conversational direction. “You must be very proud Lilavati is about to start her advanced clinical training. Only another couple of years and she’ll have her fellowship.”
I flush with pleasure that he remembered what had been a brief, almost throwaway conversation. Unfortunately, Grandie doesn’t care about any of that.
“You didn’t tell me this, Lili.” My grandmother turns her hawk eyes on me. “Will it mean you work less hours?” She almost had me. I nearly thought she might be proud of my achievements. But what she really wants to know is, will I have more free time to find a husband.
“Yes. Probably. I’ll at least have a little more control over what hours I do work.”
“Well, it’s about time. How you’re expected to find a suitable”—at this she turns a raised eyebrow on Ant, who continues to grin benignly—“partner, working the hours you do is a mystery to me.”
“I already have a partner, Grandie.”
“Time will tell,” she mutters under her breath.
We’re spared whatever else she might have said by the bus gliding to a stop at the marina.
Despite how rude she was to him, Ant helps my grandmother down the steps of the bus, up the gangplank and deposits her in a comfortable chair with an unobstructed view out the back of the boat.
Like everything Emily does, this yacht is over-the-top luxury.
It’s twice as big as it needs to be for the number of people on board, leaving plenty of room for the massive floral displays.
The round tables are set with white linen cloths, sparkling crystal glasses, shining silverware and complicated candle arrangements.
Hopefully, we won’t hit any rough water; otherwise, this could end very badly.
Servers with pineapple and coconut cocktails sporting little paper umbrellas and tiny hibiscus flowers wend their way through the crowd. They smell delicious, but Ant turns his nose up at them.
“That much sugar belongs in a bag of lollies, not a drink,” he says.
Of course, it’s an open bar, so they’re also serving beer, wine and spirits. This cruise alone must be costing a fortune. I hope the marriage lasts more days than the number of zeros this wedding is setting Ross and Caroline back.
Ant and I wander to the railing, and I make short work of a pineapple cocktail while we watch the land recede as the captain takes us out into the deep blue of the ‘Au’au Channel between Maui and Lana’i Island. If there’s such a thing as paradise, this must surely be it.
“Thank you for being so good with her.” I kiss his slightly bristly, dimpled cheek. I know I said PDAs were out, but that was before we agreed to a holiday thing. “I’m sure she pissed you off.”
He wraps an arm around my waist, pulls me against his chest and presses his mouth to my ear. The softness of his lips contrasts with the rasp of his scruff to raise a shiver that’s followed by a flush of liquid heat.
“Baby, with you in that dress, and the fucking we did earlier, the return of Godzilla couldn’t ruin my mood.” Desire and intent drip from his tone, leaving me in no doubt about what will happen after this nightmare cruise. Popping candy goes off in my veins.
My cheeks burn, and my eyes slide towards where my mother and Warren are standing at the other end of the deck, shooting metaphorical daggers at us.
Huh. Didn’t take them long to drop their act.
Mischief and a hefty dose of hormones kick in.
I rise on my toes, slide my fingers into Ant’s hair and plant my lips on his.
It’s a quick kiss. Not R-rated, but not quite PG-13 either.
When I step back, Ant is grinning.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what happened to no PDAs?”
“Oh, I think you’ve earned that one.” My lips twitch. He’s earnt more than that. And not just for helping Grandie, but for the way he shut Warren down over my dress, firmly but without fanfare or aggression.
“Can you give me a list of things that’ll earn me another? Hey, maybe we could do like a bingo card? If I get enough squares in one row, I get a kiss.” I was right. He’s incorrigible.
“Play your bingo card right and you’ll get more than a kiss,” I whisper before turning and strutting off to find another cocktail. I’ve never strutted in my life, but I’m doing lots of things I’ve never done before with Ant. And it feels bloody brilliant.