Days?
God.
‘So what do we do in the meantime?’
He paused mid-step and shot me a look that was as dark and stormy as the sky. Something in it ignited a fire in the pit of my stomach and sent heat streaking along my veins. ‘Sit it out.’
Sit it out? That wasn’t what he’d been thinking. If it was, my heart wouldn’t suddenly be thumping like a steam train and my mouth wouldn’t be bone dry. But if it wasn’t, then whathadhe been thinking? Why the flames? Why the burn? I had no idea. But did it matter? No. It did not.
What was important was remaining calm and in control. All I had to do was adapt to the situation. I was good at that. I’d had plenty of experience. Giving up a top university place to get a nine-to-five job. Swapping the beautiful Chelsea mansion for the grotty flat share in Hanwell. Getting round by sketchy public transport instead of a shiny chauffeur-driven Rolls. Budgeting, bargaining and the marked-down aisle at the supermarket. Vouchers, energy deals and a knackering weekend job in a bar. I’d got used to it all in the end.
So however long we were trapped here it would be fine. As I’d told myself repeatedly over the years, it was simply a question of mind over matter. The lanterns with their softly flickering light weren’t romantic. They symbolised a potential catastrophic natural disaster. The confined space we occupied wasn’t cosy. It was claustrophobic. Especially with Nick taking up so much room and stirring up the air with his incessant pacing. The tension radiating off him was making me feel as if I were sitting on knives. My nerves were buzzing and every time my supposedly loose top brushed against my body, shivers ran up and down my spine.
‘Look, why don’t you come and sit down?’ I said, pushing up my sleeves and shifting to alleviate the prickling sensation, but only succeeding in tightening the fabric around my chest and making matters worse.
‘I’m fine where I am,’ he muttered, his gaze briefly flickering in my direction.
‘You’re making me nervous with all the pacing and glowering.’
‘Too bad.’
‘Did you not sleep well or something?’
‘No,’ he said, coming to an abrupt halt at the console table and grabbing a bottle of water. ‘I did not sleep well.’
‘Neither did I,’ I replied. ‘The heat was unbearable. I feel rough as anything.’
‘It wasn’t the heat,’ he said, cracking open the lid and throwing me a pointed look that had me bristling.
‘Are you saying it was me who kept you up?’
His expression darkened and something flared in the depths of his eyes that sent a hot shiver down my spine. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’
His words were brusque, his voice was tight, and inwardly, I reeled. He didn’t pull his punches. I knew my presence was a problem for him but, perhaps naïvely given last night’s grumpiness, I hadn’t expected quite this level of hostility. ‘I’ll be off as soon as I can.’
‘It won’t be soon enough.’
Well, to hell with chilly politeness. The gloves were now off. ‘I realise the situation isn’t ideal,’ I said tartly, ‘but—’
‘Not ideal?’ he cut in, the incredulity in his tone slicing through me like a knife. ‘This situation is about as far from ideal as it’s possible to get.’
Surely it wasn’tthatbad. We were safe. For now. Assuming the weather didn’t worsen. ‘Aren’t you being a little overdramatic?’
‘You’re Seb’s sister.’
I blinked in surprise at this non sequitur. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’
‘Apparently, not nearly enough.’
‘No. Well. I can understand your concern. Naturally, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to me on your watch. I mean, what would you tell Seb? But ultimately, I’m no one’s responsibility but my own. And you didn’thaveto come and fetch me from Zanzibar, you know.’
He frowned. ‘What?’
‘You could have left me at the hotel.’
For a moment he just stared at me as if I’d grown two heads. Then he said, ‘Could I?’
‘Yes,’ I said with a firm nod, not liking his condescending, knowing tone one little bit. ‘I’d have been fine.’