Savage Awakening(24)

If Matt was intensely conscious of Fliss's slim limbs only inches from  the hairy length of his up-drawn knee, he tried not to think about it.  But there was no denying that he was conscious of her with every fibre  of his being, and only Amy's presence prevented him from doing something  totally outrageous like testing the shape of her calf with his hand.  The memory of how she had looked in his dream two nights ago hadn't gone  away and he wondered if he was doomed to spend the rest of his life  hankering after something he could never have. If so, it was going to be  a pretty miserable existence, and when Amy suggested that they ought to  cool off in the water he was more than willing to oblige.

It was only when she started stripping off her shorts and T-shirt that  he realised she didn't just mean that they should go paddling. She was  wearing a pretty blue-flowered bikini beneath her clothes and she  obviously expected him to accompany her.

Fliss, perhaps sensing his ambivalence, said quickly, 'Don't go out of  your depth, Amy,' and the little girl pulled a disappointed face.

'I can swim, Mum,' she protested, but Fliss was adamant.

'I mean it, Amy. I don't want to have to come into the water after you. Unlike you, I haven't brought my swimsuit.'

For a moment, Matt allowed himself to entertain an erotic image of Fliss  racing stark naked into the sea. But such images were not productive,  even if they did have the desirable side-effect of propelling him to his  feet.

'I'll go with her,' he said, forgetting for a moment that by hauling off  his shirt he was exposing his scarred back to public gaze. There were  few people on the beach, it was true, but if anybody did notice him they  were bound to be curious as to where he'd got his injuries. Still, what  the hell? he thought grimly. He couldn't spend the rest of his days  hiding from life.

He'd reckoned without Amy, of course, and, although they walked down to  the sea together, as soon as he plunged into the waves she was given an  unrivalled view of his back. For a few moments he was intent on  acclimatising his body heat to the much cooler temperature of the water,  but when he turned onto his back and looked towards the shore he found  the little girl still standing in the shallows where he'd left her.

'Are you coming in?' he called, but Amy only stood there shaking her head and he realised she was upset.

Raking back his short hair with a careless hand, he wondered what was  the matter. Whatever, he knew he would have to do something about it. At  any moment, Fliss was going to notice something was wrong. If Amy was  upset about his injuries this was something he and the child had to deal  with together.                       
       
           



       

He was still within his depth and, standing up, he waded back to the  shallows, shivering a little in spite of the heat of the sun. 'What's  wrong?'

Amy sniffed. 'I don't want to go swimming,' she said offhandedly. 'I'm going back to Mummy.'

'Wait!' Matt had no experience in these matters, but something told him he could do this. 'Is it me that's upset you?'

'No.'

But Amy wouldn't look at him and he knew it was. 'Is it the scars on my back?' he persisted gently.

'No.' Amy flicked him an indignant look. 'I just don't feel like swimming anymore.'

'OK.' Matt lifted his shoulders in a careless gesture. 'I'll have to swim on my own, then.'

Amy pursed her lips. 'All right.'

'All right.'

Matt turned away, but before he'd taken more than a few steps Amy spoke  again. 'What happened to your back? Did you have an accident?'

His shoulders rounded now, but he turned back again. 'No. It's like I  told your mummy. The people who put me in prison thought I was a bad man  so they-punished me.'

Amy's eyes widened. 'Does it hurt?'

'Not anymore.'

She caught her breath. 'They must be really bad men.'

'I suppose that depends on your point of view.'

He gave her a rueful smile. 'I'd been warned not to go too far from my  hotel in Abuqara City, but I thought I'd be clever and get an interview  with this old mullah-er, man-who was believed to have contact with the  rebel forces. He did, and by the time I realised how stupid I'd been it  was too late.'

'Too late for what?'

'I think that's enough, Amy,' murmured a soft voice close by and Matt  realised that, in concentrating on the little girl, he'd missed the fact  that Fliss had come to join them. She was looking at him now with that  mixture of regret and understanding in her eyes he'd seen before, and he  wondered why he found it so easy to talk to her and her daughter when  it was so difficult for him to talk to anyone else.





CHAPTER ELEVEN





THEY drove back to Mallon's End in the late afternoon. Amy was tired,  and Fliss wasn't surprised when she glanced over her shoulder to find  the little girl had fallen asleep. It had been a long day for her,  filled with activity, and Fliss wished she knew how to thank Matt for  his kindness towards her daughter.

Matt himself seemed quite willing to remain silent on the return  journey, but it was an amicable silence, much different from the charged  atmosphere she had created that morning. But, dammit, Diane had said he  was her fiancé, Fliss defended herself. And she was fairly sure that  was who Matt had suspected was on the phone.

However, that was nothing to do with her, and the fact that Matt had  confided in her about his experiences had been much more important. Her  skin tingled just thinking about what he'd had to go through, and she  suspected that if Amy hadn't been there, her attraction to him might  well have got her into other difficulties. There was no doubt there had  been times when the tension between them had been almost palpable.

Not least when she'd interrupted his conversation with Amy at the  water's edge early in the day. Just remembering how he'd looked then,  all dark and tanned and wet, made her feel shivery. His cargo shorts had  been clinging to his legs, outlining every bulge that they were  supposed to cover. He'd have looked less sexy if he'd been naked, she  thought ruefully, her pulse quickening in spite of herself. Although  perhaps not. She knew better than anyone that Matt always looked sexy,  with or without his clothes.

Still, she was glad she hadn't taken her swimsuit with her. Her bikini,  which she'd had for far too many years, would only have accentuated the  extra pounds she'd put on since Amy was born. She could just imagine how  she'd have looked, her breasts spilling out of the cups of the bra, the  bikini briefs tight around her hips. Oh, yes, she was no photographic  model, nor ever would be.

Later in the morning, they'd all played beach cricket before retiring to  the fast-food restaurant that adjoined the harbour. Fliss had brought  sandwiches for lunch, but Matt's offer of cheeseburger and chips and a  delicious cup of freshly brewed coffee had been too tempting to turn  down. Which would have done little for her waistline, she acknowledged  now. But what the hell? She wasn't trying to impress anyone.                       
       
           



       

After lunch, they'd gone for a walk along the cliffs, and Matt had  entertained Amy by telling her stories of the pirate ships that had used  to patrol the coastline on the lookout for young women they sold into  slavery in North Africa.

'Like you were?' Amy had asked artlessly, and Matt had exchanged a wry  look with Fliss before saying flatly, 'In a manner of speaking.' But  Fliss had been left with the impression that that was one aspect of his  captivity he still found hard to discuss.

It was just after five o'clock when they reached the village, but,  although Fliss had expected Matt to drop her and Amy at the cottage, he  drove directly to the Old Coaching House.

'Amy's still asleep,' he said, glancing significantly into the back of the vehicle. 'It seems a shame to wake her.'

It did, but Fliss was sure that when the engine was switched off Amy  would wake up. However, even after Matt had parked the four-by-four on  the forecourt, her daughter still slept on, and he made a silent  indication that they should go inside.

'She'll be OK,' he said in a low voice when Fliss looked as if she might argue. 'She'll come and find us when she's ready.'

Fliss guessed she would, but she had certain misgivings about going into  the house with him. Which was ridiculous really, considering she spent  hours alone with him when she was working. But somehow that was  different.

He left the front door ajar so that Amy would know at once where they  were and then led the way into the newly furnished drawing room. Here, a  pair of squashy leather sofas faced one another across the hearth, and  Matt had installed an entertainment centre in a carved mahogany cabinet.  The oversized furniture suited the spacious, high-ceilinged room, and  Fliss couldn't help admiring her own handiwork in the polish that  gleamed on every wooden surface. The extravagant arrangement of ferns  and lilies that occupied an end table was her doing, too. She'd rescued  the blossoms from the weed-choked garden, and she remembered suddenly  that she still hadn't asked Matt if he intended to hire a gardener.