‘Not yet.’ He lifted her hair away from her neck and kissed the warm, smooth skin behind her earlobe. ‘We need to work on our technique...to get the kissing-to-walking ratio exactly right.’
He closed his eyes, breathing her in. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her body, her lovely face, her smile...everything she was. Although their childhood experiences had been radically different, she knew how it felt not to have been truly young or carefree, and it was a relief to share that understanding. Eline had had everything: two parents who’d loved each other; a beautiful home; advantages at every step. Perhaps that was why she’d struggled to empathise with Bram’s situation and his own response to it. But Mia could. She got him, even though he wasn’t able to be completely open about everything.
She wriggled out of his arms. ‘I need to make the coffee...’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘No.’ She picked up the plate of sandwiches. ‘You take these on deck and guard them against marauders! I’ll bring the coffee out.’
‘Aye-aye, Captain.’ He took the plate and in a matter of moments he was outside—on deck! Why was that thrilling? It was a small space. Two blue wicker chairs were surrounded by a sea of planters and pots crammed with jewel-bright tulips, their heads nodding stiffly on their stems. There was that sense of a playhouse...a secret den...childish things that he’d been aware of as a boy but which he’d never fully experienced. His childhood had always felt peripheral to his anxieties, his anger, his shame.
He put the plate down on a chair, then it was two strides to the hand rail. There was some movement on the bridge now, random bicycles, early-morning pedestrians, the city getting itself into gear. Soon it would be thronging; so different from their peaceful walk through the dawn. Except that it hadn’t been completely peaceful...
Mia’s intentions had been good—trying to focus him on the positive aspects of his past—but he was done with looking for positives because there weren’t any. Yes, he’d inherited his love of science and maths from his father, but it wasn’t his intellectual legacy that kept him awake at night. It was fear and anger. Fear of who he was inside; fear that Bram would never get better. Anger with his father for being so weak, so brutal; for leaving him with such a cocktail of anxieties and insecurities.
Outside of MolTec, who was he? For pity’s sake, he couldn’t even choose furniture or paint colours. He didn’t blame Bram for getting sick, but Bram’s illness had changed everything. For the past eight years, practically all he’d thought about was getting Bram better, keeping him out of harm’s way until he was strong again. Watching his brother slide backwards over and over again had only fed his anger, made him hate his father even more. The only positive thing to have come out of it was MolTec, because expanding the reach of the business, building the brand, had been a blessed distraction from all his inner turmoil.
He leaned on the rail, stared into the water until the choppy glints of sunlight turned into bright blurs. Madelon had warned him not to keep secrets from Mia, but for some reason he was struggling to tell her about Bram...and it wasn’t because Eline had hurt him so badly over it. He knew Mia well enough now to know that she’d never be like that, yet still he couldn’t find the words. When it came to his brother, his head was a maze. Blind alleys of fear, shame, disappointment, heartbreak, Bram in the middle of it. If he could find his way through it all somehow, separate everything, then maybe he’d be able to...
‘Cleuso!’
Mia’s indignant yelp spun him round. She was in the doorway, holding two coffee mugs. He followed her gaze, nearly choking on own his laughter. Cleuso was standing on the chair making short work of the sandwiches.
She lifted her eyes to his. ‘I told you to watch out for marauders!’ She was trying to look cross.
‘I’m sorry.’ He wiped his eyes, struggling and failing to look apologetic. ‘I got distracted.’
She put the mugs down on an upturned plant pot, shooed Cleuso off the chair then handed him the plate. ‘You might as well stick it on the roof for the birds. We can’t eat it now.’
He held in a smile and did as he was told. ‘I thought cats were carnivores.’
She rolled her eyes and made a little tutting noise. ‘You had one job...’ Her lips twitched into a smile. ‘I should make you walk the plank.’
He stepped in front of her, cupped her face in his hands. ‘I’ll make it up to you somehow...’ He leaned in and kissed her slowly.
‘Hmm.’ Warm hands slid to the back of his neck. ‘You could make it up to me in my cabin...’ She pulled him in again, ran her tongue along his lower lip. He felt heat kindling in his belly, spreading to his chest, surging through his veins. He imagined her cabin... Cosy...confined...the sound of the water on the hull...the sound of her sighs... She pulled away again, nuzzling his nose with hers, and then she smiled impishly. ‘Hold that thought...’
Mind-reader!
She sat down and reached for her coffee. ‘I’d have caught Cleuso sooner if Ash hadn’t called.’ She took a sip and then her eyes widened. ‘He was very excited to hear about Madelon!’
His heart stumbled. He’d forgotten about Ash: the potential repercussions of Ash knowing that Madelon was his sister. A wave of weariness washed over him. All he’d wanted was to sit with Mia, enjoy her company, but now there was yet another fire for him to fight. How had his life become so complicated?
‘Are you okay?’ She was staring at him.
‘Of course.’ He sat down beside her and picked up his coffee. He took a slow sip, trying to calm his racing heart. ‘Mia, do
