Passion & Pleasure. Julia James
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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 sideeffect 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.
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