The Bridal Bargain (13 page)

“Mmm...if that means I still get to fly with you,” she answered lightly.

He laughed and kissed her hand again. “It certainly does. I fancy we may do quite a lot of flying together.”

She heaved a happy sigh. What either of them would make of the future—together or apart—she had no idea. For so long now she had taken one day at a time, never planning too far ahead because then you started counting on the plans and they could go badly astray. It was better to simply take life as it came and hug all the spontaneous joys it brought.

Joy was bubbling up in her right now.

The night was young.

And she was with Tony King.

Tony
had the emerald ring in his pocket. It was burning a hole in his pocket. He wanted it on Hannah’s finger. The big question was whether she would accept it and she’d given him no solid encouragement to believe she would.

Yet she
was
happy with him. He was certain in his own mind that she loved him. It couldn’t be otherwise. In the month since he’d got rid of Flynn Lovett they had spent all their spare time together and every minute of it had proved his instincts right. Hannah O’Neill was the woman for him in every sense and on every level. And he was right for her. He knew it in his bones.

So it was highly frustrating the way she shied from any talk of marriage. Just the mention of it and her gaze would slide away from his and she’d quickly fasten on some other line of conversation that led away from any talk of
the future.
It was almost as though she didn’t want to think in any terms of permanence.

A butterfly...

Tony was beginning to feel haunted by the tattoo that just might symbolise Hannah’s attitude to life, taking pleasure in a place and its people for a while, then flitting on. Was he simply part of her sojourn in Port Douglas? When it came to the end of the tourist season, did she intend to kiss him goodbye and move on?

She had her own apartment now, clearly determined on maintaining an independent situation, and she was always careful not to take any advantage of their intimacy on board
Duchess.
The chef was the chef and she did the job with such good cheer and appealing flair, the crew and passengers invariably responded positively to her. No one could ever say she hadn’t given value in the position she held.

But was she really content, just being a chef? It hardly stretched the skills he knew she had. And while this part of far North Queensland was and always would be his home, she might come to view Port Douglas as
a hick town,
and start hankering for a more sophisticated city life again. Like Chris’s partner, Johnny, who’d been happy enough to while away a year up here. But only a year.

He wanted to give her the ring. He wanted her to want what it symbolised. Impatience surged through him as he landed the helicopter in the castle grounds. Pressure of business had forced him to stay in Innisfail last night but today was Saturday, and a whole weekend with Hannah lay ahead of him—time to settle his doubts.

Regardless of any evasive tactic she tried to use he was going to propose marriage. What was the point of waiting any longer? The need to know where he stood with her was eating at him. Maybe he was being like a bull at a gate, but he’d either open the gate this weekend or smash it down.

He drove his jeep down to the marina in a very determined frame of mind.
Duchess
had been chartered for a family party today, only twenty-four passengers, so he might be able to snatch some private time with Hannah while they were anchored at the reef. One way or another, he had to pin down how she was thinking.

“So, how’s it going with Tony?”

Hannah threw a startled glance at Megan. They were putting the salads away in the galley and such a direct personal question from her younger workmate caught her by surprise.

Megan laughed. “We all
know,
Hannah. Just because you don’t talk about it or throw it in our faces, you can’t hide the vibes between you two. We’re betting that Tony’s down for the count this time.”

“The count?” Hannah echoed.

“Fallen hard.” A waggle of eyebrows emphasised the point. “And since you light up like a Christmas tree every time he’s around...”

“Do I?”

“All smiles and sparkles. Gotta be love, I’ve decided.”

“Well, since you’re the expert,” Hannah drawled teasingly. “Is it the great-while-it-lasts kind of love or the forever kind?”

“You mean...is Tony likely to walk you down the aisle?”

Hannah sighed. “Marriage isn’t really the question. Divorce is so very common these days.” Flynn and Jodie hadn’t even lasted two years, and before that, Flynn hadn’t lasted ten months before being unfaithful.

“Well, I can tell you one thing,” Megan said, nodding seriously. “When the King family makes a commitment, it’s rock-solid, providing you keep your side of the bargain. They’re renowned for it. If any agreement with them falls through, you can be dead certain it’s the other party who’s broken trust. That’s how they operate. So if Tony King asked you to marry him, he’d mean to make it work, Hannah. And he sure wouldn’t like it if you were thinking of divorce as an option.”

“How do you know this, Megan?”

She shrugged. “Lived here all my life. The Kings are like legends all up and down the far north. They go way back, you know? There are so many stories about that family standing by its word, playing fair, making things stick...that’s just the way they are. Everybody knows that.”

Megan had said something about Tony being a very fair boss the day Jodie and Flynn had come on board
Duchess,
and he’d certainly made getting rid of them stick. As for standing by his word, he certainly hadn’t let her down on anything yet, but it was still early days. The problem was, it was so easy to be in love with him, she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe something so easy and wonderful would last. Just seeing him made her bubble with joy...but bubbles did break.

“Good morning!”

They both swung to face Tony who had just stepped into the saloon, bringing with him his own special charge of energy that instantly set Hannah’s pulse racing and made her feel vibrantly alive.

“Morning!” Megan chimed back at him.

“Hi!” Hannah breathed, her mouth already breaking into a smile that precluded forming more words.

His smile, as always, illuminated how very handsome he was, and again Hannah could hardly believe her luck that he found her so attractive and their desire for each other was so blissfully mutual. At least her work couldn’t come between them, she thought, happy to hold a relatively simple job that left her with plenty of hours for them to be together.

“The family party is streaming down the wharf now,” he informed them. “I’ve forgotten their name.”

“Anderson,” Hannah replied.

“Is it some celebration? Birthday? Anniversary?”

“Family reunion.”

“Then they should be happy just talking to each other,” he said with satisfaction, his eyes simmering with some private intent that definitely included Hannah.

The sound of voices moved him into his usual position to greet the incoming passengers who were always directed into the saloon by the dive team inviting them to get their coffee or tea and meet the captain.

Hannah quickly carried two cups to the coffee machine, ready for the first requests. She heard Tony say, “Ah! Mr and Mrs Anderson, welcome aboard
Duchess.
I’m Tony King, your...”

“So you’re Tony King,” a voice she instantly recognised cut into Tony’s spiel.

Shock speared through her. It was lucky she’d just put the cups down or they probably would have dropped from her hands. She stared disbelievingly at
her parents
who were eyeing Tony up and down as though they wanted to take in and assess every detail of his appearance and character.

“Yes, I am,” Tony confirmed, looking somewhat perplexed at being the focus of such pointed interest.

“The man who’s going to marry my daughter,” her father ran on in his booming voice, galvanising stunned attention even from Megan.

“What?” spilled from her lips.

Hannah was speechless.

“I beg your pardon?” Tony queried, heavily frowning, as well he might, being faced with such an outrageous assumption.

“The name is not Anderson. It’s O’Neill,” her father corrected. “Connor O’Neill. My accountant booked the charter for me.”

“O’Neill,” Tony repeated dazedly.

“Hannah’s father,” came the pointed assertion. “This is her mother, Maureen. And may I say right here and now, we are not about to let you marry our daughter without her entire family present and we’ve come to make that known. Do I have your hand on that, Tony King?”

A hand was aggressively offered for Tony to take and shake on this man-to-man agreement. He shot a piercing look at Hannah, loaded with questions she couldn’t answer. She was still speechless. Her stunned mind couldn’t find any clue to how her father—her family—had arrived at the idea that she and Tony were getting married. It hadn’t come from her. She hadn’t even mentioned Tony to them in her e-mails. Not one word about their relationship.

A flood of heat rushed up her neck and scorched her cheeks. This was so embarrassing! He had to be thinking she had, at the very least, speculated to her parents about marrying him. His eyes glittered, undoubtedly from the electric activity in his mind. Then, apparently deciding the only way to rescue the situation and save her and her family major embarrassment, he seized her father’s hand, pumping it vigorously and said what her father wanted to hear.

“You certainly have my agreement on that, Mr O’Neill. And may I say I’m delighted to meet you and Mrs O’Neill. I look forward to getting acquainted with the rest of Hannah’s family today.”

A masterly piece of diplomacy. Hannah didn’t know if she appreciated it or not. Didn’t it perpetuate a terrible mistake which should be corrected?

Her mother then grabbed his hand with both of hers, pressing anxiously. “You mustn’t let Hannah talk you into some quick little register office wedding, Tony. I may call you Tony?”

“Of course.”

“I told her father we had to get up here in time to stop that. Thank God we could get this trip arranged before the month was up.”

“The month?’’ Tony queried.

It completely blew Hannah’s mind. They’d been worrying about a marriage between her and Tony for a whole month? She’d barely been with him that long! Only since the day Jodie and Flynn... understanding crashed through her confusion like a thunderclap.

“You can’t get married under a month without a special licence,” her mother rattled on. “Which was a worry, knowing how good Hannah is at organising things, but I hoped...”

“Mrs O’Neill...”

“You can call me Maureen, dear.” Patting his hand in approval now.

Hannah opened her mouth to rush out an explanation for the situation that had brewed up because of Tony’s tactic for getting rid of Flynn. Before she could manage to form sensible words, he plunged on, compounding the whole problem a thousandfold.

“Maureen, I can assure you Hannah and I will have a very proper wedding with all the trimmings and all family present. My grandmother would never speak to me again if we did anything else.”

Hannah choked. It was one diplomatic step too far, letting her parents think there would be a wedding. She had to stop this. But how was it to be done without making Tony feel like a fool for coming to her rescue so gallantly in front of her parents?

Weddings could be cancelled, she thought wildly.

Who knew that better than she did?

“How long will you be staying in Port Douglas?” Tony went on charmingly, probably wondering how long he had to keep up the pretence. “I know my grandmother would love to meet you.”

No, no, no! screamed through Hannah’s mind. Isabella King might think it was real. They had to contain the damage, not spread it.

“Only the weekend,” her father answered, much to Hannah’s relief. She and Tony worked Sundays so...

“In that case, I’ll re-arrange the crew roster for tomorrow so Hannah and I are free to be with you,” Tony declared, ruining everything again.

Her mother beamed at him. “That will be wonderful! I can see why Hannah...”

“Mum!” Enough was enough! “You, too, Dad!”

That snapped their attention away from Tony and their faces lit up with triumphant delight at sight of her behind the galley counter. Hannah still gave them both barrels of her displeasure at their gross assumptions.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, dragging the whole family up here and expecting...”

“If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain...” her father rolled out.

Her mother hastily broke in. “Hannah, we waited and waited for you to tell us about Tony yourself, and when you didn’t...”

“I’ve got a right to my own private life!” Hannah hurled at them.

“Now that’s enough, young lady,” her father boomed, marching up to the galley counter to dress her down. He was a big barrel-chested man who made a habit of mowing down any opposition and he went straight into attack mode, wagging his finger at her.

“We respected your need to flit off and find some new direction for yourself, never mind how much your mother worried about you. For two years you’ve deserted your family.” His fist slammed onto the counter for emphasis. “Two years!”

“I kept in touch,” she fiercely retorted, her eyes every bit as battle-green as his as they locked in challenge. “You always knew where I was and what I was doing.”

“Travelogue stuff!” her father scoffed.

“Connor, stop scolding!” her mother cried, ranging up beside him, her slender build and the rather scatty mop of grey curls that framed a face full of friendly appeal belying the strength she wielded in the O’Neill household. “We’re here to build bridges and don’t you forget it.”