The Bridal Bargain (7 page)

“See?” Megan commented smugly as she helped Keith stack the tray. “Tony’s got those two eating out of his hands. No problem.”

Except what they might be giving him in exchange, like personal information Hannah would prefer to keep private. She was utterly powerless to stop that and the thought of her past history being laid bare— especially to Tony King—made her feel vulnerable on too many levels.

It took considerable willpower to keep herself operating on a professional level, chatting to the passengers, ensuring what they ordered was cooked to perfection, delivering with a smile. Her inner tension eased somewhat once the lunch rush was over. No mishaps. No complaints. No problems apart from those in her head.

The afternoon wore on.
Duchess
left the outer reef at three o’clock for the run home. Most of the passengers trailed into the saloon, their scuba-diving and snorkelling finished for the day. Hannah forced herself to repeat the exotic fruit presentation which formed a pleasurable and refreshing wind-down during the ninety minutes it took to get back to Port Douglas. Tracy and Jai offered to man the bar and serve drinks, freeing Megan to take samples of the fruit to the upper deck.

Nothing was actually said, but Hannah sensed the whole staff had been worded up to shield her from the Lovetts. Ironically, this probably meant Flynn and Jodie had received five-star service all day, watched over and handled with kid gloves. All Tony King’s doing, of course, though Hannah was under no delusions she’d be paying for it, one way or another.

If Jodie and Flynn didn’t pounce on her the moment she walked off
Duchess,
Tony would, wanting to know what else in Hannah’s background might raise an ugly head to disturb the smooth running of his ship. She tried not to think about it until she had to. Maybe everything could be avoided, relegated to the past where it belonged.

It was a vain hope.

They docked at the marina on schedule. The passengers streamed off, heading for transport back to their accommodation. The crew cleaned up after them. When there was nothing left to be done, they moved as a group onto the wharf, ready to report back to the office and be briefed on tomorrow’s passenger list.

Predictably, Tony fell into step beside her, waving the others ahead to ensure a private conversation. Hannah’s nerves jangled an instant protest, but her head told her she owed this man for saving her from an unbearable situation today, regardless of whether it had been simply a pragmatic decision to avoid a bad scene that might upset people who’d paid for pleasure.

A grateful “thank you” pushed to be said, yet it was an admission that led straight into territory she didn’t want to tread. An apology did the same thing. Better not to say anything. Let him lead into the raw area, if he had to.

“Are you planning to skip out on me, Hannah?’’

The question startled her into halting. Her head jerked up as the realisation hit that the last previous sight he’d had of her today was the confrontation over the bar when she had been on the verge of bolting. She met a hard piercing gaze that was determined on nailing her down.

Her own sense of fairness forced a reply. “No. I’m sorry about today. Those people...” The heat of acute embarrassment burned up her neck and into her cheeks, “...they’re not likely to book another trip on
Duchess.
’’

“Right now they’re sitting at a table out on the deck of the Fiorelli Bistro and Bar, which we’ll be passing on the way to the office. You are being targeted, Hannah. I can keep them from getting to you but I’ll need your co-operation. Are you willing to go along with me? Yes or no?’’

“Yes.” The word tumbled out, driven by an anguish of spirit that begged to be free of any further involvement with Flynn and Jodie.

“Then take my hand now and leave everything to me.”

She didn’t really take it. He took hers with a confident command that pulled her along with him. Another rescue mission, she thought, too shaken by the prospect of having to confront Jodie and Flynn by herself to even consider resisting Tony King’s offer of support and protection.

It felt good, having him at her side.

She could feel his strength pumping up her arm, giving her wrung-out heart a much needed shot of adrenaline. Her frazzled mind didn’t even begin to consider what Tony might do to ensure she wasn’t harassed. He’d said to leave everything to him and her instincts had no trouble believing he would be master of the situation, whichever way it turned.

Tony
liked the feel of Hannah’s hand in his. He liked having her trust, too. What he didn’t like was her reaction to the couple whose appearance on
Duchess
this morning had killed her natural exuberance stone-dead. Worse. She wouldn’t even glance at the guy, and it had looked to Tony as though she’d been on the verge of quitting to escape the sense of entrapment with those two.

No need to be Einstein to work out the equation—
if he wanted to keep her, keep them out of her way.

No need to consider his response, either. Losing Hannah O’Neill at this point was not acceptable. Not only would he be without a chef who had already won the approval of the crew, but he hadn’t yet had the chance to explore what there could be between them on a personal level.

Nevertheless, this extreme stand from Hannah raised many questions that had Tony’s mind buzzing, particularly since it hadn’t softened one bit in the intervening hours of being free of the Lovett couple. Her current tension over their nearby presence was just as strong as it had been this morning. Which brought him to one firm decision. There was something going on here that
he
didn’t want to walk away from.

It had been a very interesting day, observing the interplay between the Lovetts. No love left in that marriage. Tony doubted there ever had been love. The woman was a man-eating sex-pot, mixing manipulative flirting with sly sniping, neither of which hit their mark with her husband who had maintained an air of arrogant boredom towards her malicious game-playing.

Tony had brushed off Jodie Lovett’s questions about Hannah, stating only that she held the position of chef on
Duchess.
Flynn Lovett had bluntly told his wife to “put a gag on it” when she’d started claiming that Hannah’s being a chef was ridiculous. He’d given Tony his full co-operation in diverting the conversation onto other subjects, much to his wife’s chagrin. Yet Tony was convinced Flynn had been playing his own game—a waiting game—and the focus of all the games today was Hannah.

Why
was the big question.

And why would she want to run away from them?

He could only think that old wounds had been reopened. Bad wounds. Bad enough that re-visiting them was intolerable.

Tony didn’t like that, either.

He wanted the butterfly flying free with him, not pulled away and hurt by these people.

“We won’t take the usual route along the promenade deck to the office,” he instructed. “We’ll walk straight ahead into the shopping mall, bypassing the open-air table they’ve selected.” Without pausing a beat he added, “For someone who’s not a trained chef, I’d have to say you have a fine touch with barramundi.”

She darted an apprehensive glance at him and he grinned at her. “You delivered. That’s what counts. Now smile back at me. We’re going to have a happy chat and not even notice the Lovetts.”

Her smile flashed out, tinged with relief at his acceptance of her. “I have had training, Tony. Though not anything formal. More like an apprentice.”

“Best training of all,” he approved, pleased she could still say his name with that spine-tingling lilt. “What’s more, everyone on the crew likes you. You’re amongst friends, Hannah.”

“They’re a nice bunch of people.”

“True. I picked them myself.”

Her eyes flashed irony. “Except for me.”

“You’re certainly the surprise package but I’m not about to give you up. They’re watching. Beam me another bright smile.”

She did.

“You’ve got killer dimples, Hannah O’Neill, and I want to hear you laugh.”

She managed it, chasing away the hunted look his warning had briefly evoked.

Having twigged that her quarry was heading towards the mall doors instead of the promenade, Jodie Lovett grabbed her husband’s arm, urging action. Flynn unfolded himself from his chair, waving to catch attention. “Tony, come and have a drink with us. Hannah, too.”

The fingers Tony held instantly scrunched up, nails biting. It was disturbing proof that Flynn got to her more than Jodie did—Flynn, the man! And this was not the past. This was here and now. The idea of any man having a strong effect on Hannah stirred all Tony’s hackles.

He did not so much as slacken their pace towards the mall, though he acknowledged the call by raising his arm in a farewell salute. “More work to do. Enjoy yourselves.”

Which brought Jodie to her feet, fighting against having their plans frustrated. “Join us when you’re finished,” she pressed.

“Other plans,” he cheerfully excused.

The doors opened.

As they reached the relative safety of the mall, closing out the Lovetts who would make themselves ridiculous chasing after them at this point, Tony was acutely aware of Hannah’s shoulders sagging in relief. He decided not to comment. He had a strong suspicion she was not home free yet. All his instincts were telling him she had become a strong focus of discontent between the Lovetts today and they were not the kind of people to accept having their own interests frustrated.

They were used to winning.

But they were on Tony’s home ground. So was Hannah. And Tony had no intention of losing. He’d take the battle right up to them if he had to. The hand in his gave him the right to do it and he was not about to let that right slip. Not for a moment. Not while ever Flynn Lovett was in town!

Hannah’s knees were like jelly. But any chance of a forced meeting with Jodie and Flynn was now behind her so at least she could breathe freely again. She took a big gulp of air and shot Tony King a genuine if somewhat wobbly smile.

“Thank you for escorting me.”

His eyes lightly teased. “I quite enjoy the role of white knight to fair maiden in distress.”

Very conscious that she had put him to considerable trouble on her account today she promised, “I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

He squeezed her hand. “Let’s get through today first.”

It reminded Hannah there was still work to be done and she had to get her mind focused on what needed to be ordered to cater for tomorrow’s trip. She didn’t think of extracting her hand from Tony’s. He didn’t release it, either, until they reached the office and they went about their separate responsibilities. Only then did she realise how deeply comforting that physical link with him had been.

Over the past two years she had become accustomed to conducting her life on her own. She hadn’t minded being alone. It was easy enough to seek company when she wanted it. Strange to recall now how wary she had been of Tony King’s effect on her this morning. It was different, feeling he
cared
about her. Or maybe it was just the job he cared about, making sure she didn’t let him down.

Somehow that didn’t matter. He had held her hand when she had needed it held and it had felt good. Better than anything she’d felt for a long time.

Having completed the salad and seafood orders for Sunday, and feeling more positive about her job now that Tony had been so decisive about keeping her on—pleased by her cooking, too—Hannah set her mind on tomorrow as she prepared to leave the office. She didn’t have to think about Jodie and Flynn anymore and she wouldn’t. Tomorrow would not be darkened by the past. Tomorrow she would see more of Tony King who might be the man to blot Flynn out of her memory on every level. Mr Right...

Now there was a piece of whimsy, she thought, given how wrong she’d been about Flynn wearing that title. Still, one could but hope. Better than wallowing in old mistakes.

“Hannah!”

Her heart jumped. Tony was coming out of his private office, obviously wanting some last word with her. She paused, nervous tension gripping her again at the thought of being queried on her connection to Jodie and Flynn.

“I’ll drive you home,” he said with serious intent. “See you safely to your door.”

She stared at him, realising he thought there was a possibility of her being accosted by the two people she wished to avoid. It didn’t seem likely to Hannah, yet...they had been waiting for her to come off
Duchess.

“It’s only a ten-minute walk,” she started to reason.

“A two-minute drive,” he returned pointedly. “And not out of my way. I have to drop by the castle. My grandmother will want to know how you’re doing.”

He didn’t allow for any further argument, asking Sally to lock up the office and sweeping Hannah out to the car-park with him. The reminder of his grandmother’s part in her current situation was exercising Hannah’s mind as they settled in his jeep.

“Sally said I have Monday and Tuesday off,” she quickly mentioned, once they were on the road. “I’ll find some accommodation for myself then.”

“There’s no big hurry,” he said offhandedly, as though her staying in the Coral King apartment was of no concern to him.

Had she taken a completely wrong impression of his attitude last Wednesday? Needing the issue clarified, she said, “I thought you would prefer me out as soon as possible.”

He slanted her a look that seemed to simmer with personal re-assessments, setting her pulse skittering and re-igniting a very strong sexual awareness of the physical attraction she’d tried to put at a sensible distance.

“I’d prefer you to feel settled in Port Douglas,” he answered. “Take your time in finding what’s right for you.”

They were reasonable words, especially in the light of her urge for frantic flight this morning. On the surface of it, he simply wanted to remove sources of anxiety, give her a bit of space, yet she felt he was now closing the distance he had put between them at their first meeting.

On the other hand, maybe she was just being supersensitive, a nervous hangover from the stress of the encounter with Jodie and Flynn. “That’s very kind of you,” she said quickly, flushing self-consciously as she felt impelled to add, “You’ve been very kind all day. I do appreciate your help and...and consideration.”

He pulled the jeep up on the verge of the road in front of the apartment block and Hannah rushed to alight. “Don’t switch the engine off. I’ll be fine from here. Many thanks again, Tony.”

Her feet hit the ground.

He switched off the engine.

It thumped into her heart that the last word had not been said and this driving her home was meant to lead to something else. The plain truth was... Hannah wasn’t ready for anything else. She recoiled from giving any explanation of her reactions today, and her feelings for Tony himself swirled in an ambivalent mess. She shot him a desperate look of appeal, only to find his focus not on her at all.

His gaze was on another jeep—a common form of transport in Port Douglas, particularly with the hire-car companies. It had just passed their parked vehicle and was moving slowly up the hill towards the castle. It came as a very severe jolt to Hannah to see that the male driver had chestnut hair and his female companion’s long black locks fell over a red shirt.

“They followed us!” The shock of it spilled out the all-too-telling words.

“Yes!” Tony shot her a fiercely determined look. “No argument, Hannah. I’m coming in with you.”

He was out of the jeep, his door banged shut in emphatic purpose before she could gather any wits at all. Her mind was in a ferment over the ramifications of Jodie and Flynn now knowing where she could be found in her private time.

As Tony rounded the jeep, she had the sense of a torrent of dynamic energy coming at her, encompassing her in his personal force-field. His eyes had the glitter of battle in them and his strong male face wore a hard aggression that was not about to countenance any denial of his intention.

Her knees had gone to jelly again. She felt helplessly caught by elements she had no control over and all her mind could do was bleat,
It’s not fair...not fair...

Tony scooped her along with him, an arm around her waist clamping her to his side. Somehow her legs kept up with his strides and they were at the front door of the apartment so fast, she then had to fumble in her handbag for the key. The moment it was produced, Tony took it, opened the door, and swept her inside. He was right behind her and she heard the door click shut, trapping her into what was now an inescapable situation.

“Okay!” he said with satisfaction. “When the Lovetts drive back down the hill, as they must, they’ll see the empty jeep and conclude I’m here with you, so I don’t anticipate they’ll want to intrude because it’s not me they want contact with.”

It was impossible to refute his reasoning. Hannah felt sick at being pursued like this. What more did Jodie and Flynn want from her? Hadn’t they taken enough, abusing everything she’d given them? She looked bleakly at the man who had appointed himself the safeguard between her and them. His eyes were ablaze with a demand for answers. The only words she could think of to say were, “It’s not my fault.”

His expression softened to sympathetic concern. “I think a stiff drink is in order. You go on out to the balcony and breathe in some fresh air while I raid the complimentary bar. What would you like?”

“I usually only drink water. It’s good for you,” she added so stiltedly, it brought an ironic smile to the grim set of Tony’s mouth.

“Okay. A long glass of iced water coming up.”

“Thank you.”

Better to keep a clear head than fuzz it with alcohol. There was no possibility of drowning her sorrows in it anyway. She had a few minutes’ respite before Tony’s questions would start. With the feeling of having her privacy terribly violated and being helpless to stop it, she walked towards the setting sun outside, knowing it couldn’t give her the sense of peace that this fraught day was finally over.