thing I could do,’ she protested, shaking her head vehemently. ‘I don’t want love.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Marc said, his skin looking tight after an intense tanning session followed by a competitive volleyball match in the pool. ‘It’s all you want.’
Music was pumping loudly through the speakers; coloured lights were on around the bar area as the sun bumped along the horizon, unable to sink. It was approaching ten and all the families had long since gone home; the sea club was filled to capacity, with partygoers overflowing onto the gangplanks, beers in their hands and the ambient noise levels of laughter and conversation rising rapidly. Every boat in the marina had people on it, deck parties and dinners adding to the carnival atmosphere as others stood on the rocks with binoculars, watching the lead race boats clip past. It was party time again on Sandhamn.
‘Love and good sex very often don’t go hand in hand,’ Tove said, with a gravity that suggested she was passing on divine wisdom. ‘I mean, I get it when people bang on about intimacy adding to it, blah-blah-blah, but sometimes, with a stranger, it’s actually better.’
Bell closed her eyes, remembering again the moment she had leaned across and kissed him –
‘Stop it!’ Kris wiggled her foot, knowing exactly what she was thinking. ‘Not him.’
‘No,’ she sighed again. ‘I wasn’t. I –’ She didn’t have the energy to lie.
She gave a small shiver as a sea breeze rippled over her bare skin. She was still in her bikini, having just pulled on a pair of denim shorts, and she tried to remember what she had worn here this morning. It was so long ago now. Fourteen hours spent lying and drinking and crying on this sun lounger.
‘Bell?’
They all turned as one to find a blonde-bearded guy smiling down at her, several beer bottles precariously held between his splayed fingers.
‘Mats?’ She saw Kris and Marc give him the once-over. He was an attractive guy – athletic physique, twinkly eyes, ready smile. ‘Mats!’ she cried, scrambling to stand and accidentally delivering a glancing blow to Kris’s nether regions in the process.
‘Oof!’
‘Guys, this is Mats. He’s Emil’s skipper.’
‘Emil’s skipper?’ Marc repeated, as though this counted against him. Guilty by assocation?
She reached over the lounger and greeted him like an old friend, giving him an enthusiastic kiss on each cheek. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked excitedly. ‘I thought you went back to the city.’
He hesitated. Could he tell she was tipsy? Perhaps she wasn’t doing a terribly good job of hiding it. ‘I did, but I just got back in time. I always like to watch the race from here.’
‘From the bar?’ she laughed, looking down at his beers.
He gave a rueful shrug, as though busted. ‘That was the plan, anyway. You want one?’
‘Oh, I shouldn’t, I’ve had so much already,’ she demurred, before taking it in the next instant anyway. ‘Oh okay then.’ She took a swig. ‘So what are you doing here?’ She winced, catching herself as he laughed; she’d already asked that. God, she was drunk. ‘I mean, I mean, who are you here with?’
‘Those guys over there.’ He jerked his thumb to show a group of eight or so, standing on the other side of the pool. There were five guys and three women, all talking in a group.
‘Oh.’
He looked back at her quickly. ‘But they’re not, I mean, I’m not –’
‘You’re not . . .?’
His gaze fell to her mouth, then back to her eyes. ‘I’m not with them.’
Did he mean the women? ‘Oh.’ She put her lips to the bottle and watched him as she drank. Everything seemed to slow down a little.
‘And you?’ His eyes grazed over Marc and Kris questioningly, as they stood protectively a step behind.
‘Oh. Oh, no,’ she laughed. ‘We’re not a . . . four. They’re a two, in fact,’ she said, taking both Kris and Marc’s chins in her hands and squeezing their handsome faces together like chipmunks. The two men blinked back obligingly.
‘Right,’ Mats grinned, looking relieved.
‘Yes, this is Kris and I’m Marc,’ Marc said as they all shook hands. ‘We’re her pimps.’
‘And me. I’m Tove,’ Tove said, leaning in. ‘I’m her pimp too.’
‘Actually, I’d say you’re the chief pimp, Tove,’ Marc deadpanned.
They all looked back at Mats, who was motionless and open-mouthed, before collapsing into fits of hysterics. ‘Uh . . .’
‘They’re messing with you,’ Bell laughed, slapping a hand on his chest and leaving it there. He looked down at it – and