"No. Don't be. It was... it was nice. Really nice. Your kisses, your body... it's... I'm... I'm just... I don't think..."
"Mm. It's a real pity," she whispered. "Because you're very much my type. Gosh, you're so very, very much my type. Oh well. Such is life, right? Right, let's stop scandalising the fish."
"We've got more wine," I managed. "I'm not ready to go to sleep just yet. Please come back with me? Please don't leave me now, Charley."
She sighed.
"Like I could ever do that," she said, so softly I almost didn't hear it.
We returned to the beach, tugged our clothes onto our wet bodies, and made our slow, silent way back up the hill.
She clung tightly to my hand on the walk back to my chalet, and despite the weirdness of what we'd just done, the idea of letting go never once cros
