Or maybe she was simply comparing herself to Lily who had a washboard abdomen even when she was slouching and breathing out.
Job done, Rose lay back down and shaded her face with the magazine she had brought from her room.
‘Hotels for pleasure…hmm…well, maybe it’s the pull of the challenge, to boldly embark on a project of which I have zero experience. There’s nothing like the possibility of failure to get the adrenaline going.’
She was aware that he had half turned towards her and she kept her eyes firmly shielded behind her magazine.
‘I’ve conquered the money markets,’ Nick said casually. ‘Or rather, I’ve made enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life, even if I decided never to lift a finger again. Very comfortably. What does a man do when he reaches that position?’
‘Retire and enjoy what life has to offer,’ Rose said, surprised. ‘But then, who would you enjoy it with?’
Nick sat up and lifted the magazine from her face, which immediately brought her shooting up so that they were staring at each other fully.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘That remark just sort of slipped out.’
‘Working with computers, Rose, might not have been the best career move for you.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning you have no tact.’ Nick would have left any other woman in no doubt that overstepping the boundaries was tantamount to a still-born relationship. However there was, he reminded himself, no relationship with this woman and, anyway, she was already bristling. Of course, he wasn’t about to back down and allow a woman, any woman, to invade his private space, but was he really ready for a fight? When the sun was beating down on his back and the sea glimmered invitingly?
‘You mean that sometimes I don’t agree with you.’
‘I’m going for a swim.’ Nick stood up, a profile of one-hundred-per-cent masculine beauty, and glanced back over his shoulder to her. ‘Coming?’
‘I think I’ll just stay here, thanks, and carry on sunbathing,’ Rose flounced back onto her lounger and stuck the magazine back into position.
The notebook that she had packed to remind herself that work was the reason for her lazing on a lounger on a beach remained unopened in her bag. She had a moment of brief despair as she contemplated the remainder of their stay, then she turned her thoughts to his high-handed attitude, telling her she was lacking tact. It felt a lot better to fulminate.
By the time she had worked herself up some healthy self-righteous anger, the sun was beginning its ascent and pleasantly warm was turning into baking hot.
Rose reluctantly shelved her thoughts, sat up and glanced at her watch to discover, with shock, that Nick had now been swimming for over forty minutes, and when she peered towards the horizon, there was no sign of him.
Panic slammed into her and she shot to her feet and hurried down to the water line, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. The beach was more crowded now, although still relatively deserted. People were in the water. A quick glance told her that Nick was not among their number.
She obeyed her instinct and forged into the sea, which was so warm that her body barely needed to adjust to the temperature.
The one continuity in her life had been her swimming lessons. Tony and Flora had nurtured a vague, hippie-like notion that swimming was akin to being at one with nature, and, with that in mind, they had insisted on swimming lessons wherever they had happened to be. The Education of Life was more important than the education of the classroom, but swimming was something they had insisted upon. And Rose had enjoyed it so much that she had continued even when classes had no longer been necessary and long after Lily had packed it in because it ruined her hair. Rose, never one to spend time agonising over the state of her hair, had found the silence and privacy of swimming a soothing balm to a tumultuous adolescence.
Feeling the water on her was like coming home.
As she struck out she wondered whether she should have run further up the beach in search of a lifeguard, but the thought of creating a scene, probably for no reason, was off-putting, never mind Nick’s reaction if he returned from a simple swim to find the hotel’s rescue party hot on his trail.
Anyway, it was too late to think about that.
She was pretty sure she would spot him a little further out, and then she could slink back to shore, safe in the knowledge that he was all right.
She swam confidently out but then, when the beach was beginning to look a little too distant for the sake of comfort, she felt the slow crawl of fear through her because who knew what inhabited the waters? They looked crystal-clear and perfectly innocent, but anything could be lurking in the depths. What if he had been sucked under by something? Were box jellyfish rampant in these waters or was she mixing up her oceans?