Chapter 17
Hannah supposed she deserved the banging head with which she awoke the following morning.
She was still in her dress and sandals, with the duvet wrapped around her in a confused tangle, which confirmed the erotic dreams had been just that.
Dreams. She was all alone in the cabin. The morning light spreading its way around badly drawn blinds the only witness to her dishevelled start to the day.
What the hell happened the night before? Not the obvious, clearly. Although she was sure Louis had been there, for a while at least.
What had she said to him? She shouldn’t have drunk that little glass of sweet wine she was given with dessert. That’s what tipped the balance in favour of her being rat-arsed.
Hannah lifted her head, groaned, then laid it down again. That little glass of amber nectar might have been the tipping point, but the rest of the alcohol she’d consumed had got her there.
Heat crept up her cheeks, swamping her alongside the embarrassment. What had she been thinking?
At least she hadn’t vomited.
And now she’d had that thought, the sweet prickle at the back of her mouth had her swallowing repeatedly until she forced the feeling away.
Confused about what time – or even what day – it was, Hannah remembered some vague arrangement she’d made with Ruth to meet for breakfast. The prickling was back in her throat, as she reached for the glass of water Louis had placed on her nightstand.
She frowned as she sat up so she didn’t choke on the liquid.
Louis had put water there for her. Then he’d gone. She remembered that much.
The fog surrounding the previous evening continued to lift as Hannah showered, dressed, found her sunglasses and applied them to eyes, which were way too sensitive to cope with natural light, and headed out to meet Ruth. Coffee. She could probably manage some coffee.
Ruth and her kids were already at the Harvest Basket. A collection of used crockery dotted the table in front of them. Ruth smiled in greeting, then her expression morphed to concern.
‘Are you OK?’ she said.
‘Mhmmm. Think so,’ Hannah said. ‘Drank too much last night.’
Ruth’s eyebrows lifted. She knew of Hannah’s dinner plans, and the scheduled breakfast was to catch up on how it had gone. Hannah remembered that now, too.
‘Good drinking or bad drinking?’
‘Started good…’
Hannah glanced at Millie, who was agog, and then Nathan, who was pretending not to be interested.
‘Kids, go and get Hannah something to eat,’ Ruth said.
‘No. No food, thanks. Some coffee though, please?’
‘I’ll get some,’ Millie said.
‘No, maybe not you, Mils – we don’t need you with third-degree burns.’ Ruth peered meaningfully at Nathan.
‘Oh, all right, I’ll go,’ Nathan said, pushing floppy curls from his eyes as he looked at Hannah, then frowned.
‘Black, no sugar. Thanks, Nathan,’ Hannah said, earning herself a rare smile.
‘He fancies you,’ Millie said once Nathan was out of earshot.
Nausea bubbled again. That was all she needed, to add a teenage crush to the mix. But she supposed it did explain some of the ways Nathan had been staring at her.
‘Mils, don’t pester Hannah,’ Ruth said. ‘Go and get yourself another “Christmas croissant” or something.’
Millie grinned and slid from her seat, lifting a plate. ‘I’ve already had three,’ she said to Hannah.
‘Right,’ Ruth said when Millie had gone. ‘Spill.’
‘I drank too much and passed out,’ Hannah said, unsure of the benefit of saying more.
‘What, at the dinner?’ Ruth looked suitably horrified. ‘That’s off the scale, fam.’
Her expression and choice of words made Hannah smile, then shake her head. ‘No, not at the restaurant.’
Ruth grinned. ‘Back in the day, I once fell asleep on a toilet, after a night out with some friends. They couldn’t understand what was taking me so long.’
Hannah laughed, then pressed fingers to aching temples.
‘Stop it. I can’t…’
‘Yes, you can. Tell me, Hannah.’
‘The dinner was great, actually. But they kept filling up my glass and so I kept drinking. Dutch courage, I suppose. Anyway, it was going well, I think. Louis walked me to the lift—’
‘I’ll bet he did,’ Ruth said.
Hannah frowned. ‘No. He’s not… It wasn’t… Anyway, we kissed and then—’
‘Coffee.’ Nathan appeared at her shoulder, plonking a mug filled to the brim in front of her. He went to retake his seat then paused, the look on Ruth’s face clearly expressing something in a family code Hannah wasn’t part of. He sighed.
‘I’m going to get some more food.’
‘Thanks, Nath,’ Ruth said, then focused her attention on Hannah. It was like being put in a spotlight. ‘So… You kissed and then…’
‘We went back to my cabin, but everything changed once we were inside. I think he realised I was just some drunken, jilted woman that he didn’t fancy after all.
And who can blame him?’ To her horror, an uninvited lump took up residence in her throat, and she choked on the words, as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Thank God for dark glasses.
‘But you weren’t jilted, Hannah. You did the jilting. You were the one who stood up for yourself, got out before it was too late. I don’t think you understand just how important that distinction is.’
Hannah shrugged. ‘Anyway, nothing happened last night. He got me a glass of water and left.’
‘You’re sure?’
Hannah leant forward, cradling her coffee between her hands, suddenly angered by Ruth’s inference. ‘I woke up this morning with my knickers on, if that’s what you’re asking.’
Ruth sighed, then nodded. ‘I knew a gentleman once upon a time, too. Shame of it was I didn’t understand what I had until it was too late.’
Hannah sipped at her coffee, noticing Millie and Nathan loitering at one of the buffet tables. ‘I’m intruding on your time with your children, Ruth. I should go.’
‘What are you going to do next?’ Ruth said, as Hannah gestured the kids to reclaim their seats.
‘I’m going to drink this coffee and then I’m going to sit out on deck and let the sea breeze blow away my hangover.’ She sighed, knowing her reply didn’t join the dots Ruth was actually asking about, but she had no answer to that question. ‘I might be out there a while.’
Louis held the binoculars up to his eyes to try to focus.
Stared out as far as he could, allowing the vastness of the ocean to calm him.
Today the sea conditions were more challenging than usual, and although the cruise ship cut a smooth path through the cresting waves, it didn’t hurt to keep a careful eye on the conditions.
He could leave this task to the Quartermaster lookout currently on rotation, but Louis was also trying to avoid conversations. Specifically with Tim, who’d been side-eyeing him since they’d both come on duty.
Things between them had been a touch frosty since the whole docking debacle in the Azores. But Louis thought including Tim in the previous evening’s dinner would have gone some way to thawing the situation.
Maybe he was being cowardly by dodging Tim, but sometimes discretion was the better part of valour, wasn’t it? And if Tim was looking for confrontation, Louis was in no mood to play ball. Especially this morning.
Every rational thread of his being was telling Louis to walk away from Hannah Maynard.
Yes, she was extremely attractive – she seemed completely unaware of what her gaze did to a man – and she also had a great sense of humour.
She liked kids and animals, too. That thought had Louis frowning into his binoculars.
He sounded like he was writing her entry for Miss World, or something.
If those kinds of misogynistic events even still existed.
What he was trying to convey – or maybe was trying to prove to himself – was the sense he had that she fitted with the things he valued, too.
The ship’s cat, Portus, might be all kinds of aloof aristocrat – or maybe that should be aristo-cat, but Louis had never had pets, and he realised how much he loved having the furry ball of independence around.
And the way his stomach had dropped when Hannah had leant into Millie’s shoulder and made her laugh in the art studio on the day of ‘blue paint on shirt-gate’…
Well, he wasn’t sure he could really explain that.
Suffice to say Hannah ticked boxes. Lots of boxes.
And kissing her felt like he’d always wanted kissing to feel like.
It had been easier than cutting through waves in a laser dinghy, and a million times more pleasurable.
And the things she’d said to him in her cabin, even though she was a bit tanked…
it was hard to describe how much he wanted her to do all those things to him… and much, much more.
But it would be far more sensible to walk away.
The woman had literally just broken up with a fiancé, someone she’d known for nearly a decade.
She already had far too much to deal with.
And, however much he’d tried to cultivate a proper relationship with a woman, Louis had only ever managed to fail.
Apart from Annie – his own partly healed open wound – nothing had ever lasted longer than a few months for him.
And even his relationship with Annie had crashed and burned at the vital moment.
Either way, it was hardly a good idea for Hannah to add to her emotional load by having a fling with someone while she was trying to navigate a major break-up.
And that was without considering how unprofessional it would make him look…
Perhaps he had some in-built kill switch, designed to make him go for the wrong people. Case in point – falling for a woman so seriously on the rebound as to still be holding a metaphorical boomerang.
‘How was it, then?’
Louis hadn’t noticed Tim wandering up beside him, arms folded as he too stared out to sea.
‘How was what?’ Louis lowered his binoculars.
Tim grinned. ‘The woman on your table. Looked like you struck lucky last night, Captain.’
The tone offered itself as amused, with added blokey vibes.
If Louis had possessed hackles, they would have stood on end at Tim’s comment. Annoyance fizzed its way up the back of his neck. He raised his binoculars, deciding how to respond. Tim beat him to it.
‘I get it. What happens on cruise stays on cruise, and all that. She didn’t look in a fit state to say no to anyone – fair game if you ask me.’
Louis lowered the binoculars before Tim could notice how badly his hands were now shaking. ‘What are you suggesting?’
Tim nudged his elbow. ‘Nod is as good as a wink – I get it.’
Louis swallowed. ‘I know you’re new to the Ballygowan, Tim, and I’ll do everything I can to welcome you as part of our team. But if you’re trying to insinuate that I did anything other than escort Miss Maynard safely back to her cabin, then I think you and I are going to have a problem.’
‘You really do have a stick up your arse, don’t you?’ The words were quietly spoken, nobody else on the bridge would have heard them – or indeed any part of the conversation thus far – but Louis heard and was sure it was intended that he should.
I’d rather have a stick up my arse than be a predatory bastard. It was probably as well Louis kept the words inside his head, but it had been a closely fought battle.
‘My focus remains on the smooth running of the Ballygowan, Tim. As, perhaps, should yours.’
Tim laughed, then turned and strode away. Louis stayed put, waiting for the adrenalin to settle and for his hands to stop shaking.