To Love Honour and Disobey

‘You’ll want one to refresh later.’

‘Sure I will,’ Ana said. ‘Just add it to his bill.’

They bonded more over her high-heeled strappy sandals.

‘Some time today would be good.’ Seb’s voice came through the curtain.

‘Ignore him,’ Ana said sotto voce to the assistant. ‘I do.’

It was another full ten minutes to get finished and then summon the confidence to exit the room. She couldn’t bear to wait for his reaction so went straight on the offensive.

‘What are you buying?’ She stared suspiciously at the tissue-wrapped somethings going into the big bag. There was already one full bag to the side of the counter.

‘Nothing.’ Evil grin in place. ‘Wedding present.’

‘You’re giving your father’s new wife frilly knickers?’

She moved closer to see them, still not looking at him, noticing instead how his hand had curled into a fist on the counter.

‘What did you do to your arm?’ The laugh in his voice had vanished.

‘Oh, nothing.’ Damn, he’d seen it through the wrap.

‘Nothing doesn’t need a plaster.’

It was the thinnest plaster she’d been able to find. But it was a big square—had to be, to cover her moment of lunacy. ‘All right.’ She breathed out and prayed for cool indifference. ‘I got a tattoo.’

‘What?’ He pushed the shawl back, his fingers gently lifting the edges of the tape. ‘When?’

‘On Mnemba.’

His fingers stopped. ‘Mnemba? I didn’t realise there was a Tattoo You on the island.’

‘Oh, yes. They had everything there. I got it on the last day when I went for that massage and you were swimming.’

‘A tattoo. Needles, Ana? In Africa?’ Now his fingers were gripping her too hard.

She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s henna, Seb. It’ll fade.’

Colour slashed his upper cheeks and she felt his harsh breath out. ‘So why are you covering it up, then?’ His fingers were back at work, carefully peeling the sticky tape.

She held back the wince and made her excuse. ‘It’s not exactly classy, is it, for your dad’s wedding?’

‘Dad’s wedding isn’t classy.’

He lifted off the plaster. Damn. She instinctively rubbed her arm, hoped by some miracle it would have faded in the last sixty minutes. But from the impenetrable mask that his face had just become, she knew she’d had no such luck.

They were a regular sideshow for the shop assistants, weren’t they? Discreet as those perfectly coiffed women were, they weren’t able to hide either their smiles or their interest. There was a long moment of silence during which all the indoor plants decorating the room grew an additional three inches from the heat radiating from her face.

Finally he spoke. ‘What does it stand for?’

‘South Africa.’

Their initials were entwined in the centre of some completely intricate swirling, flowery design that was in a sort of oval shape covering almost all of her upper arm.

‘You seem to have been misinformed—We weren’t in South Africa. We were in Tanzania.’

‘The girl did it,’ Ana mumbled—mortified. ‘It was her idea. The design.’ Oh, hell, this was too embarrassing. ‘They thought we were on our honeymoon.’

‘I told them we were,’ he said so softly she hardly heard. She was too busy trying to explain.

‘She’d done it before I knew. I…I thought it was just going to be a…a pretty pattern…’ Her feeble mutterings ceased as she felt his finger trace over the letters, following the swirls down her arm.

She looked at him; his smile had disappeared altogether.

‘I’ll put the bandage back on.’

‘Leave it.’

‘I have the wrap—it’ll cover it. It’s cold anyway. This dress is too short.’

‘The dress is stunning.’

She didn’t listen. Too busy staring where he was rubbing his hand over his jaw. ‘You’d better take your wedding band off. Why do you wear it?’

‘Because I’m Mr Married at work. Why didn’t you take yours off?’

‘I did. Months ago.’

‘Rubbish.’ He picked up her hand. ‘The tan mark is still there. I saw it days ago.’

‘I only had it on because the travel guides suggested it for women travelling alone.’ She snatched her fingers from his.

He made a sound that suspiciously sounded like a snort.

She glared at him. Forgot the assistants. Forgot everything but how close he was now. And he glared back. Then—as if he couldn’t help it—his gaze coasted down her body. She felt it like a caress.