The Secret Cove in Croatia. Julie Caplin

looking red and flushed in the face. He frowned. They’d clearly interrupted her important work – sunbathing.

      ‘Why don’t you leave your luggage here and go back to the marina to wait to be checked-in properly?’

      ‘Because, as Tara pointed out, we are here, we are hot, the boat has been paid for and we’d like to sit down somewhere cool and wait for the rest of our party,’ said Nick firmly, deciding to take no nonsense. He wasn’t at home now. This was Tara’s world and he’d seen how her friends acted. Imperious and direct. That was how you got things done in this world. ‘Is it going to inconvenience you hugely?’ He gave a pointed look at her bikini, immediately regretting it when the girl glared at him, her face turning pink.

      Now she was making him feel guilty. He couldn’t bloody win. One thing he knew for sure was that his mum would not have been impressed with his behaviour. Refusing to meet the girl’s eyes, he turned and stalked down the gangplank to collect Tara’s luggage. At this very moment, he would have been happier in a pub on his own with a large pint of beer.

      Tara swanned ahead and was already climbing the wooden stairs to the deck. As he wheeled one of her cases onto the gangway, she’d reached the rails and was waving down at him.

      ‘Oh, this is lovely. Come up. Oh, you couldn’t bring up my little case, could you?’

      By the time he’d carried all the cases on board and went up to the first deck, taking with him Tara’s small cabin bag, she had settled in the air-conditioned lounge and kicked off her shoes – quite literally, they were lying in the middle of the floor – stripped off her jeans and was lounging on a white leather sofa, all long tanned legs and a tiny pair of briefs.

      Nick blinked at her, not sure where to look.

      ‘Oh, darling, isn’t it lovely to have nothing to do.’ Peering up at her phone, held in one hand above her head to take a selfie, she stretched lazily. For a fleeting, disloyal second, when her white top rose to reveal a smooth flat stomach and the minuscule scrap of lace and silk masquerading as underwear, he wondered if she’d done it deliberately. His mouth went dry and he realised he was staring.

      Peeling his eyes away from her endless legs, he turned and looked around at the boat, letting out a low whistle. ‘This is rather nice.’

      He was dying to take lots of pictures and post them onto the family WhatsApp group, but Tara seemed to take all this in her stride and he didn’t want to look too keen and gauche in front of her.

      With a careless shrug, she said, ‘I guess,’ and reached over to her tote bag to pull out one of the stack of glossy magazines she’d bought at the airport. ‘I wonder what time the others will get here. Has that awful girl gone? Honestly, some people are such jobsworths.’

      She opened her magazine and began flicking through the pages, tutting and shaking her head.

      As she was clearly absorbed, he left the lounge area to step out into the warm air on the deck. With a quick grin, he took in the view of the hazy outline of the islands in the distance, lifting his head towards the pleasant balmy breeze. Standing with his legs slightly apart, his hands gliding with pleasure along the smooth surface of the glossy wooden rail, he enjoyed the slight bob and dip of the boat. He was really here. Nick Hadley, on board an expensive yacht with a stunning model girlfriend. Who’d have thought it?

       Chapter 5

      Now properly covered up, wearing her crew T-shirt and navy shorts, Maddie had taken herself off to the kitchen – sorry, galley – and was hacking a poor cucumber to death. If this pair of self-entitled dickheads were indicative of the guests, it was going to be a long trip.

      She checked Tonka’s recipe and grabbed an onion, peeling back the golden skin. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to mix with the guests too much and they might not all be like Mr and Mrs We-know-we’re-gorgeous-and-that-means-we-can-do-what-the-hell-we-like. Nina’s brother, she consoled herself, wouldn’t be like that. In fact she was hoping he’d be an ally. This pair were everything she’d feared about this trip. Maddie was looking forward to meeting Nick; at least he wouldn’t have any airs and graces. You couldn’t get more down to earth than a northerner and a farmer at that.

      Chopping and slicing soothed her and she kept a close eye on the time. When she finally heard voices and the clatter of footsteps and cases, she knew the rest of the guests had arrived. That was her signal and she dashed out to lay the canapés on the table in the bow, as per instruction in her handy bible.

      Hearing people start to assemble on deck, she tucked the ice bucket and champagne under one arm and picked up a tray of glass flutes, holding it, somewhat precariously, in one hand and headed out to meet the guests. The manual said champagne on the first day, although she was dying to bring out one of Ivan’s demi-johns for a bit of Croatian authenticity.

      As soon as she appeared on the deck, a woman with short bright red hair cut in a gamine pixie crop clapped her hands together. ‘Oooh, bring on the champers. The holiday has begun. Can I help you with that?’ She reached for the champagne bucket perched on the tray, carefully lifting it away from the six flutes.

      ‘Thanks,’ said Maddie, immediately warming to her and following her over to a table. ‘So not all the guests are complete knobs then.’

      The woman let out a loud belly laugh and to Maddie’s horror she realised she’d said the words aloud.

      ‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.’

      ‘Not a problem.’ She winked at Maddie. ‘I like people who say it like it is. I’m Siri. And no, I don’t have the answer to everything.’

      ‘Ah, everyone, this is Maddie,’ announced Ivan, who now appeared to be wearing fancy dress.

      Maddie bit back a laugh and looked down at her feet. She could bet that Tonka and Vesna would love the dashing naval officer look with the white shirt complete with black and gold epaulettes, a white peaked hat and white trousers. She suspected Zita, with her wicked sense of humour and more pragmatic approach, would have a lot more to say.

      ‘Hi everyone.’ She looked around at the faces, deliberately avoiding the gruesome twosome, as she’d now dubbed them, who were on the far side of the table. Four other people had joined the party, two men and two women, and Maddie took a minute trying to work out the relationships between them all. They looked unlikely couples. Seated nearest her, on the ends of the benches, were the two men, one tall, dark and the sort of movie star handsome that could make you go weak at the knees. It was probably no accident that his blue linen shirt brought out the depth of his dark blue eyes. He sat with his long legs out, crossed at the ankle, leaning back in his chair with an arrogant confidence as if he owned the place. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was as dark as Nina, she might have thought he was the man that had chartered the boat, but he had to be Nick.

      ‘Maddie is your hostess for the trip,’ explained Ivan. ‘She’ll be looking after your cabins, serving breakfast and lunch and dinner, and on those nights we’re not in moorings or too far from port, she’ll take you in on the launch.’

      ‘Hi, Maddie,’ said the man she assumed was Nick, in a deep and very smooth voice, with a charming friendly smile. Of course he was being friendly; he knew she was Nina’s friend. Maddie’s breath stalled in her chest as she turned to face him. Why hadn’t Nina warned her? But then she guessed Nina probably didn’t even notice and, if she was anything like Maddie, she thought of her brothers as nothing more than pains in the arse. Phew! Those eyes were amazing.

      ‘Can I help you with that?’ He took the bottle from her, his fingers brushing hers. Smooth. The corner of her mouth turned up; Nina’s brother was full of surprises. He gave her a warm smile and then put out his other hand. ‘Simon. Simon Beresford.’

      ‘S-Simon.’ Automatically she shook his hand, her brain whirling. ‘Hi,’ she said in a pathetic wheezy little voice.

      She