The Bridal Bargain (5 page)

“I’ll be there on the dot. Probably earlier just to be sure. You can count on it,” she assured him.

“Good!” He nodded but his head was the only part of him that moved. He seemed stuck there in the doorway, his gaze still locked on her, like he was trying to burn his way into her mind to see if she could be trusted.

“I’ll keep everything here spick-and-span. You don’t have to worry I’ll make a mess of it.”

“I’m not worried,” he asserted, frowning over her supposition. “I’d better give you my card so you can contact me if you run into any problems. The mobile phone number can always reach me.”

He started forward, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and opening it to extract a business card. Hannah also moved forward to meet him halfway, anxious not to hold him up since it was clear he wanted to get away. He was looking at the card, stuffing his wallet back in his pocket and walking so fast he almost collided with her.

Shock on his face.

His hands instinctively grabbed her upper arms to steady her as she rocked back from him.

“Sorry...” The word rushed out of her mouth, just before her throat completely choked up as shock hit her, as well.

His face was so close his eyes seemed to blaze into hers, and the fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her arms...they seemed to burn, too. She felt invaded by an electric current that was playing total havoc with her entire body.

Heat was swarming through her like a giant tidal wave, making her senses swim, filling them with a huge awareness of the man holding her, the overwhelming maleness of him tugging at her own sexuality, the strength he emanated, the power, even the masculine scent of him was flooding through her nostrils, an intoxicant that jammed all thought.

She stared back at him, her mouth still half open though incapable of emitting sound. Her ears seemed to be roaring with other messages...a million bells exultantly ringing that he wanted to do far more than hold her arms, far more than tunnel into her brain to find out who and what she was. There was no reason at all in what sizzled from him but its sheer physical blast held Hannah totally captivated.

His gaze dropped to her parted lips and the certainty he was going to kiss her clutched her heart. His head started lowering towards hers, then unaccountably jerked up. For one shattering moment she saw horror in his eyes. The hands on her arms sprang open, releasing all contact. He shook his head, stepped away, bent and scooped up the card that had fallen on the floor.

Hannah was too dazed to move a muscle. He lifted one of her hands and pressed the card onto her palm, actually curling her fingers around it. “There!” he said on a heavy expulsion of breath. “Must go now. Must go. Number’s on the card if you need me.”

His fingers brushed her cheek as though driven to draw her out of what had happened between them and into the immediate
now.
“Okay?” he asked, the horror in his eyes replaced by anxious alarm and a need to paste something else in place.

She nodded, still unable to get her throat to work.

“Okay,” he repeated, backing off, swivelling around, heading straight for the way out.

He was gone with the door closed behind him before Hannah could even blink. She found herself touching her cheek as though his fingers had left some imprint there.

She’d never felt anything like this before.

Not even with Flynn, whom she’d loved.

Tony...Tony King.

She
hadn’t called.

Tony brooded over this absence of any contact with Hannah O’Neill as he drove to the marina on Saturday morning. For the past two days and three nights he had been more conscious of having his mobile phone on hand than he’d ever been, waiting for Hannah to test his response to her, anticipating her voice almost every time it rang. Part of him had wanted it to be her voice. At least then he could have dealt with a real problem instead of being subjected to this continual inner restlessness.

He’d even taken his mobile to the party he’d attended in Cairns last night—just in case she called— and fully intending to let her hear the party sounds in the background so she’d know he was out enjoying himself and not thinking of her. And he’d meant to enjoy himself, too. Except he couldn’t stop thinking of how
she
made him feel and not one woman at the party had lit the slightest spark of interest in him.

The inescapable truth was he wanted
her.
Only her. It didn’t matter what his mind dictated, his body was in full rebellion against all restrictions where Hannah O’Neill was concerned. He’d barely caught himself back from kissing her on Wednesday afternoon, and he strongly suspected he wouldn’t have stopped at kissing, given they’d been in the apartment with a bed handy.

Unless, of course, she’d said no.

Which she might have.

She certainly hadn’t called.

Tony kept telling himself he should be pleased about that. It proved she did not intend to take any advantage of her power to get at him. Or maybe she was simply waiting to check out his behaviour towards her today. Which should be exemplary—treating her as he would any other staff member, making a few allowances for her newness on the job—except he wasn’t sure how far he could trust himself to act as he should.

He could only hope she wouldn’t have such an undermining impact on him today. The surprise element was gone. When he saw her again, he might very well wonder why he’d got himself into such a twist about her. He’d probably been blowing the whole thing up in his mind because...well, he wasn’t used to being struck so strongly by any woman. It had never happened before.

Tony decided he didn’t like it.

A guy was supposed to be in control, knowing exactly what he was doing and why. He had to stamp his authority on this situation. Be captain of his own ship.

This resolution burned in his mind as he parked his jeep and checked his watch. Five past eight. The whole staff should already be on board
Duchess,
preparing for the day ahead of them and their passengers. He strode down the wharf, feeling a swell of pride in his newest acquisition to the Kingtripper line. This cat left all the others for dead, not only in speed but in looks and amenities.

And Hannah O’Neill had better live up to his grandmother’s judgement when it came to cooking seafood! If she didn’t dish up the best barramundi he’d ever eaten, then nothing about her could be trusted.

He greeted the catering people who were just leaving
Duchess,
having delivered the day’s order of fresh salads and bread rolls. At least that much of the guaranteed sumptuous lunch was reliable, he thought, stepping on board to more greetings with the dive team who were checking equipment against a passenger list.

“How many coming with us?” he asked.

“Thirty-six,” Tracy answered. “Almost a full complement.”

The limit was forty. Thirty-six meant a busy day for all hands, especially Hannah’s as people drifted in and out for lunch.

“How’s our new chef fitting in?”

“Hannah is amazing!” Tracy declared with a little shake of the head denoting awed admiration.

“Doesn’t miss a trick, that girl,” Jai remarked with a nod of agreement.

“It’s the energy she gives out,” Eric said more consideringly. “Lots of positive vibes. Gives everyone a good buzz while she gets ‘em doing what she wants.”

Aha! Tony thought triumphantly. So that was how she’d got his grandmother in! Hannah O’Neill was a witch weaving spells and she’d caught him in her magic trap before he’d built up any objective immunity.
Amazing
was right. Everyone was giving her what she wanted—the job, free accommodation, approval all around, and she’d probably wanted to be kissed, too.

“What about her cooking?’’ Tony asked.

“Don’t know,” Jai answered. “Chris was doing it yesterday.”

“I think she was helping until she started the exotic fruit thing,” Tracy chimed in.

“Yeah! Now that’s what I mean,” Eric said pointedly. “She got everyone having fun tasting all that stuff. I reckon Hannah could sell anything if she put her mind to it.”

“No worries, Tony,” Jai assured him with a grin. “Even if her cooking isn’t great, she’ll sell it to them with her smile and they’ll
think
it’s great.”

“I hope you’re right,” Tony bit out, feeling he’d been an all too easy victim of that smile.

“Hey! Don’t forget that scrumptious salad she brought along yesterday,” Tracy reminded the other two divers. “Anyone who can create a salad as good as that is sure to be a fine cook.”

Tony frowned. “She doesn’t have to bring salads with her.”

Tracy shook a finger at him. “Don’t discourage it. I sneaked back for seconds it was so yummy. And I wasn’t the only one. The stuff we get delivered didn’t rate in comparison. Wait and see, Tony.”

“Okay. I’ll wait and see. I’m glad you’re all happy with Hannah. I’ll go and have a word with her.”

“A lot more cheerful to be around than Chris has been the past few weeks,” Eric tossed at him for good measure.

All of which formed a very positive picture, Tony acknowledged as he moved on into the saloon. The need to be fair-minded about Hannah O’Neill, particularly where this job was concerned, bore down on the personal prejudice he’d been nursing. There was not a hint of envy or anything negative coming from Tracy, and while Jai and Eric obviously
liked
Hannah as a person, neither guy had given any indication of hot sexual interest.

Was he the only one turned on by her?

Energy...chemistry...all he really knew was that some compelling force was being generated and he needed to get a hold on it so it didn’t mess him up. Captain of his ship, he thought again as he approached the L-shaped bar that enclosed the galley. Consciously relaxing, he was ready to smile at both Hannah and Megan who were busily setting out cups and saucers for the first rush on tea or coffee by the incoming passengers.

“Good morning, Tony!” A bright greeting from Megan who spotted him first. She had a very short crop of brown hair and was into ear-piercing in a big way—at least a dozen studs and rings hanging off her lobes—but Tony didn’t mind her taste in fashion. Nothing about Megan distracted him.

“Good morning,” he echoed, barely managing a glance at her. His attention was riveted on Hannah, who was very slow to raise her gaze to him.

There was tension in her sudden stillness. Her shoulders squared as her chin lifted, eyelashes at half-mast, veiling her feelings until she had them guarded enough to deflect any probe from him. He caught the wary expression instantly. And more. A flash of vulnerability that made his stomach flip.

She
was as unsettled by him as he was by her.

No devious plan.

The thoughts flashed through his mind and a wild satisfaction surged over the questions that had nagged so infuriatingly. It wasn’t one-sided. He wasn’t her victim. A bite had been taken out of her breezy confidence with that almost-kiss on Wednesday, which surely meant she’d been left in some sexual turbulence, too.
Over him.

It put a grin on his face.

“Hannah...” he said with an encouraging nod, not stopping to consider whether
encouraging
was a good move.

She had her hair braided again. Such long, thick wavy hair had to look fantastic when it was not constricted, even more fantastic spread across a pillow. Funny how both she and Megan wore the same uniform—white T-shirt and shorts with coral cuffs and the Coral King insignia on the pockets—yet it simply looked neat on Megan. Hannah filled it with luscious curves. Tony had a mental image of the hidden butterfly and wondered if it was fluttering.

“Got here in time!” a triumphant voice declared behind him.

A voice he instantly recognised.

Matt’s
voice!

His younger brother swung past him and dumped two trays of fruit on the wide counter of the bar. “Hi, Tony!” he tossed over his shoulder, the barest acknowledgment before concentrating the full blast of his big personality on Hannah. “You must be the new chef. I’m Matt King. I supply the exotic fruit you ran out of yesterday. And from what Chris said, if you want a job change...”

“Stop right there, Matt!” Tony cut in. “Hannah is mine!”

“Hannah...” Matt rolled her name off his tongue with obvious pleasure and completely ignoring Tony, thrust his arm over the bar, hand extended. “Glad to meet you!”

She took his hand, looking at him somewhat dazedly. Matt was almost as big as Alex and always a hit with women, an uninhibited talker with the gift of the gab, not to mention his good looks, curly hair, and dark chocolate eyes that apparently had the power to induce swooning.

Tony unclenched his jaw and bit out, “If you think you can come in here and poach on my territory...” He stepped right up to the bar in belligerent challenge, which served to unhook Matt’s hand from Hannah’s so he could hold it up to Tony in a gesture of peace.

“I know you need her right now with Chris leaving,” he said reasonably. “But...”

“No buts. You’ve delivered your fruit. Now beat it, Matt!”

Both hands up now, warding off the fire-power Tony was in no mood to tone down. “Okay, okay,” Matt soothed. “Didn’t mean to make waves. Just letting Hannah know I appreciate her talent for getting people to try something new. Not many people have that kind of entrepreneurial skill, Tony. It takes...”

“What does it take to get you moving out of here, Matt?”

He huffed. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re out of line.”

Lowered brows, eyes shooting some private meaning. “Alex said...”

“I don’t care what Alex said,” Tony snapped, wishing he hadn’t implied to his older brother that Hannah was more Nonna’s choice than his and he didn’t like being boxed into a corner.

“I thought...”

“Think again.” And Alex should have kept his mouth shut!

“Fine!” Matt slanted an appealing smile at Hannah. “Just keep up the good push on my exotic fruit. Could tap into new markets with the kind of people who go out on
Duchess.”
He clapped Tony on the shoulder. “Got the word. No poaching!”

He swaggered off in such apparent good humour, Tony knew he’d just been baited. His younger brother was too damned clever, and he enjoyed nothing better than getting a rise out of Tony or Alex. It probably came from having been bossed around by them when he was little, but Matt really needed being taken down a peg or two. In the meantime, he’d better stay clear of Hannah if he didn’t want to get thumped.

With a sense of having settled something important, Tony swung his gaze back to the woman who’d triggered this territorial battle. In his mind she now belonged to him. It had been a swift transition in his thinking about her but Tony didn’t pause to ponder reasons or gather doubts. How they were going to get over the employer/employee hump was still a complicated issue. Nevertheless, there had to be a way.

The green eyes were opened wide, staring at him as though she didn’t know what to make of his sharp exchange with Matt. Hot colour in her cheeks indicated a fast pumping of blood. Had she picked up the inference that he’d complained to Alex about their grandmother’s arbitrary choices?

“First day without Chris,” he rolled out, using business to remove the personal element from her thoughts. “Let me know if you run into any problems and I’ll do what I can to ease them for you. Don’t try to go it alone. Teamwork is always better. Okay?”

She nodded, still wide-eyed and looking totally confused.

He moved off to greet the passengers now streaming onto
Duchess,
a new zest for life leaping happily through his veins. His confusion had smoothed out into an understanding he found both exhilarating and highly challenging. It was great to feel captain of his ship, master of his fate, the holder of knowledge he could use as he saw fit.

He wasn’t expecting to be rocked again.

Fate decreed otherwise.