‘Watch who you call old,’ retorted James. It was great that they were enjoying friendly banter while I was having a mild panic attack. I stood up and hunted around the roomy couch for my handbag. I found it just as I caught James’s eye. ‘I must see Sarah back to the yacht. It’s getting late,’ he added.

Back to the yacht? Not back to his hotel? I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. I think there was even a smidge of ‘insulted’ in the mix of emotions churning inside me. Or was that the brandy mixing with the gin?

‘Yes,’ I said thrusting my hand towards Armando, ‘we must be off. It’s getting late, and you know how old people are if they have too many late nights.’ Well, that was a tad bitchy, Sarah. Armando ignored my hand and pulled me close for a series of kisses on my cheeks. There were so many, I lost count after three.

‘Sarah,’ he gushed, ‘you are delightful. It’s wonderful to meet a woman who can handle Jimmy so deftly.’

Handle him? Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was behaving like a toddler.

James put a light hand on my shoulder and gently steered me to the door. He gave Armando a hug and two cheek kisses – Europeans! – and then we were outside in the fresh evening air, alone. My chin jutted out at an angle that would have made Reese Witherspoon proud. I tucked it in a little lest I looked too impertinent.

‘Shall we?’ he said, gesturing towards the pathway leading to the marina.

‘We shall,’ I replied. We walked in silence for a few minutes. The air was still, and it smelled intoxicatingly of bougainvillaea. I inhaled deeply, knowing I’d forevermore think of the Greek Islands whenever I smelled that sweet aroma. Thousands of stars lit up the sky and lights from homes dotted the hillside down to the marina. The island was stunning.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ I found myself saying.

‘It is.’ He touched my hand and pulled me to a stop. ‘You are also beautiful.’

‘You make me nervous,’ I blurted out, the tranquil moment shattered. To his credit, he responded by laughing – not a mild, smarmy laugh, but a throw-your-head-back-and-laugh-out-loud kind of a laugh. I found myself laughing too – mostly at how silly I was being.

‘Why on earth,’ he said through the laughter, ‘do I make you nervous?’ He shook his head as though he couldn’t believe it.

‘Because. You’re a grown-up. You’re an adult in every way, and I feel like a ridiculous schoolgirl around you.’

‘Sarah, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you, my lovely, are all woman – there’s not a schoolgirlish thing about you.’

‘Really?’

We were walking again. ‘Really. And not only that, if I’m completely honest, you make me a little nervous too.’