You're a sap...a total moron!
The man could move mountains. She had no doubt he could find his own sandwich. She was there to care for Daisy, not Daisy's daddy.
That morning she'd caught a glimpse of Hunter deep in conversation with a pair of stern-looking businessmen. He was all sharp edges and intensity, that single-minded determination propelling him forward with the same inevitability of the tides. There was nothing comfortable or safe about him.
With Daisy he was approachable, loving, the kind of guy you could sit with at the kitchen table over pizza.
But the man she'd seen that morning was hard-driving, sophisticated, a man who took what he wanted, no matter the cost.
Not her kind of man at all. There were scores of interesting people on board--and many men just as gorgeous as Hunter Phillips. Wasn't it just her luck that the most interesting of them all was the one who didn't know she was alive?
Still he was working so hard, she thought, and he had managed to surprise her with that beautiful breakfast.
What would it hurt to do something nice for him?
Hunter was drowning in a sea of half-written proposals when Jeannie returned to the cabin.
"I couldn't find a BLT," she said in a matter-of-fact fashion, "but how does tuna on rye sound?"
He looked up from his work. Damn it. She still looked great. "Tuna sounds fine," he said, glancing around. "Where is it?" Images of dinner a deux sprang to life. Tuna wasn't chateaubriand but it was a good place to start. Besides, it meant she didn't have plans for the rest of the evening.
"In the lounge," she said, heading for the door. "Ask for Conrad. He'll set you up."
Coward, thought Jeannie, as the door closed behind her. You didn't have the guts to be alone with him.
Liar, thought Hunter, as he headed toward the lounge. You don't even want the damn sandwich any more.
He wanted to be with her.
Chapter 5
Jeannie woke up before dawn. She lay in bed, listening to the sound of Daisy's even breathing and waiting for Hunter to knock on the door.
And he was going to. Her feminine intuition, which had been silent the past few years, told her so. There weren't many things in life of which she was sure, but this was one of them. Any minute he was going to pop up at her door to fetch Daisy--and maybe shoot a quick glance in her direction, as well?
The thought was enough to make her laugh out loud. He hadn't given the slightest indication that he saw her as anything but Daisy's babysitter and there was no reason to think that situation was going to change.
You don't have to lie here like an idiot, waiting for him, Ross. Why don't you get up, get dressed, and have Daisy waiting for him when he shows up?
It was the logical thing to do. And it would certainly bypass the inevitable discomfort they would both feel when he stepped into the room.
But she didn't. She lay there, savoring the feeling of being connected to the world in a way she hadn't been in a long, long time. She was important, both to Daisy and to Hunter. It felt better than she'd remembered.
Meeting Hunter and his little girl had awakened in her a sense of wonder that made life seem to glow with promise.
Of course, being around Hunter had certain built-in drawbacks but she was reasonably certain she was doing a good job of concealing the attraction she felt toward him. She'd rather die than let him know she was mooning over him like a lovesick schoolgirl.
"Jeannie." She heard Hunter's voice from the other side of the doorway. "You awake?"
She cleared her throat. "Y-yes."
"Can I come in and get Daisy?"
Heat spread from the center of her body, over her breasts, her throat. "Come in."
The door squeaked open. He stood for a moment in the doorway, his broad frame silhouetted by the lights in the drawing room. He wore a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt and he looked aggressively male. She became extremely aware of the fact that beneath the covers she wore a lacy teddy. She'd never slept in a lacy teddy before last night. She didn't care to consider why she'd chosen to do so.
"Come on, Daisy," he said, leaning over the crib. "Rise and shine."
Her breath caught as he bent low to reach for Daisy. His legs were powerfully muscled, moving nicely up to a narrow waist and broad chest. It was a wonder someone at CN&S hadn't asked him to spend time on the other side of the camera.
"Breakfast's on its way up," he said, turning back to her with a sleepy Daisy curled against his chest. "The bathroom's yours."
"Great."
He stood there in the doorway, an absolutely gorgeous male specimen with an equally gorgeous baby in his arms. He met her eyes. She let herself be held by his gaze. Tension shimmered in the air between them, glittering like a golden thread of promise.
"Better hurry," he said. "Don't want the coffee to get cold."
So much for romance.
The thing to do was get out of there.
Hunter had it all planned.
The second Jeannie sat down to breakfast, he intended to grab a bagel and head for the hills.
Something was happening between them, something he didn't have the time or the energy to deal with. Back in that bedroom, all he'd wanted to do was drag her from that bed, pull her body up against his, and kiss her until he didn't want to kiss her any more.
Unfortunately, however, this was the 90s and enlightened men didn't do things like that unless they enjoyed law suits and exposes on Donahue and Oprah Winfrey.
A few minutes later she sat down opposite him. He was burning with lust; she looked cool as the ocean breeze.
"If I keep eating like this, I'll be too big to fit through the doorways," she said, reaching for a croissant. "Better hurry, Hunter, before I devour everything that isn't nailed down."
He polished off a cup of coffee and grabbed a bagel. "Hate to eat and run," he said, "but I have a meeting in five minutes, then two more meetings after that."
"I understand," said Jeannie. "This is a business trip, after all."
If only he could remember that....
Later that morning she saw Hunter talking to a woman she assumed was a showgirl from the Vegas-style revue and it occurred to her there was such a thing as being too tall and leggy and blond.
It also occurred to her that it didn't look much like business. Apparently Hunter could find a few spare moments for flirtation when he was motivated enough.
Of course he could do what he wanted with his time. She was the employee. He certainly didn't have to explain himself to her. Just because she was enmeshed in romantic daydreams, was no reason to assume he gave her more than a second thought.
If he wanted to have lunch with a blonde and dinner with a redhead, he certainly didn't have to ask her permission.
"Life is very complicated," she said to Daisy as they reclined on a deck chair and watched Hunter.
"Daah?" Daisy waved her hands in the air and strained toward Hunter.
"Yes, that's Daddy," Jeannie said, playing pattycake with the baby's hands. "Making a fool of himself over a girl half his age."
Another girl joined Hunter and the blonde. A redhead. Buzzes of conversation drifted across the deck toward Jeannie. "Probably talking about quantum physics," she said with a sniff that Daisy found quite amusing. Tough job, Phillips. Don't wear yourself out.
The group commandeered a table near the pool and continued their animated conversation sitting down. Nice work if you could get it.
"Come on, Daisy," she said. "It's time for lunch."
"Exactly what I was going to say."
She squinted up into the sunshine at an impressive male physique. "Excuse me?"
"Tim Reeves," he said, extending a hand. "Glad to see you're alone."
"Jeannie Ross." She gestured toward Daisy. "And I wouldn't say I'm alone."
"Great kid," he said, hunkering down next to them. "What I meant was--"
"I know what you meant," said Jeannie. "You're a friend of Eddie's, aren't you?" Her favorit
e obnoxious football player from the other night.
"Don't hold it against me." He flashed her a smile. "I'm a lot nicer."
Thank heaven for sunglasses. She cast a glance toward Hunter. To her delight, he was scowling in her direction.
She chatted with Tim for a few minutes, relishing the fact that Hunter apparently found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the touching scene.
Hunter excused himself from the table where he'd been talking print-ad space with two of the cruise lines junior executives.
"We'll continue this at the afternoon presentation," he said, then headed straight for Jeannie and that muscle brain who was making an obvious play for her. Look at the way the bozo was fawning all over Daisy. Talk about being blatant....
"Isn't it time for Daisy's lunch?" he asked without preamble.
Those damn sunglasses of Jeannie's hid her expression which was probably a good thing. He had the distinct feeling she didn't appreciate the interruption.
"Tim Reeves," said the bozo, extending his paw. "And you're--?"
"Phillips." He squeezed the guy's hand hard. The bozo didn't blink. He turned toward Jeannie. "Lunch time," he said, ignoring the predator at his side.
"Just what Tim and I were discussing." She paused, watching him through those damn sunglasses. If she thought he was going to volunteer to free her to have lunch with that clown--
"Great to meet you, Reeves," he said, placing a hand under Jeannie's elbow and steering her toward the indoor promenade. "Enjoy your lunch."
To her credit, she kept her own counsel until they reached the cabin, but then all hell broke loose.
"Of all the insufferably arrogant, high-handed things to do, that takes the cake. What on earth did you think you were doing?"
"I know his type," he said through clenched teeth.
"You are his type," she retorted. "Bull-headed, hot-tempered--" She stopped.
"Go ahead. Say whatever you were going to say."
She tossed her sunglasses down on top of the bar and stormed into her bedroom with Daisy.
He was right behind her.
"We're not through talking."
"Want to bet?" She placed Daisy in the middle of the bed and unfastened her diaper. She winced, and then disposed of it.
He handed her a fresh one.
"Thanks," she muttered, cleaning Daisy's bottom with practiced motions.
"Look," he began, "maybe I overreacted back there."
She looked up at him, brows lifted, then back down at Daisy. "No argument here."
"He's a friend of that creep you had trouble with last night. I didn't want to see you have--" Have what? Have a good time with him?
Have dinner?
An affair?
Gambling was legal beyond the three-mile limit. Good thing murder wasn't. Otherwise, Eddie and Tim would be history.
Jeannie's heart was pounding so furiously she had to take a series of deep breaths to calm down. Part of it was justifiable anger over his display of male territoriality, but an equal part was pure exhilaration.
He was jealous.
Unfounded.
Illogical.
But true.
Some things a woman just knew. It was in the set of his jaw the way his hands were clenched into fists at his side, the deep rumble of his voice.
She fastened Daisy's diaper then lifted her up. She nuzzled the baby's neck then handed her to Hunter.
"I want to change for lunch," she said blithely. "Tim will be waiting."
Hunter struggled with his temper. "I thought we could eat together."
"I thought you had a meeting."
"I do. My usual meeting after lunch."
"I wish I'd known."
"You could cancel your date with Jim."
"Tim," she said. "And no, I couldn't." She reminded herself that this wasn't real life they were talking about here. She didn't owe Hunter anything beyond taking good care of his little girl. Once they returned to New York City, he'd go his way and she'd go hers. There was nothing between them except a business agreement.
"My meeting's at two," he said, his tone brusque.
"Fine," she said, her tone equally clipped. "I'll be back in plenty of time."
"Good," he said.
"Great," she said, heading for the door.
Hunter listened to Jeannie's footsteps disappearing down the hallway.
"Go to work," he said out loud. "That's why you're here."
It seemed as if everything was conspiring to pull him away from his goal. For eight months he'd been mired on the Daddy track at work. Two steps forward, three back. That wasn't how great careers were made. Grantham had set up this trip to be Hunter's personal Waterloo. One screw-up and Grantham would have all the ammunition he needed to send Hunter's butt straight to the Unemployment Office.
How the hell had his life degenerated into such a pitiful mess, he wondered. He'd lived without romance for this long; he could live without it awhile longer. He was confusing convenience with chemistry, that was all. Jeannie was there to take care of Daisy, not provide inspiration for his sexual imagination.
The pre-dinner meeting was a success. So was the dinner.
The after-dinner meeting, however, turned out to be more social than constructive and Hunter found himself looking for a way out.
"You're a great dancer, Hunter." Sarah, an executive for the cruise line, tilted her head back and met his eyes. "You must get a lot of practice."
He looked at her blankly. "Did I miss something? I thought we were discussing TV ad time."
"I think we've pretty well covered the TV issue," said Sarah. "Serious conversations are anathema on cruise ships."
She was flirting. No doubt about it. The signals were clear, even to Hunter.
"So you think we've finished up for the night?"
"Absolutely," said Sarah.
The song ended. Hunter escorted Sarah back to the table they'd shared with other cruise line execs.
"I'm calling it a night," he said to the group at large. "I have some more paperwork to catch up on before the morning meeting." Good going, Phillips, he thought even as he uttered the words. You get them eating out of the palm of your hand and then you take a hike. He'd never get back in the fast lane this way.
"Stay," urged one of the cruise ship's top brass. "You've done enough hard work. How can you sell a cruise ship when you haven't experienced any of the fun?"
"Wish I could hang around," said Hunter, "but I'll have to take a rain check."
With that he shook hands all around then made his exit.
The ship was rocking badly and he negotiated his way through the lounge by grabbing ahold of chair backs and any stationary objects he could find.
"Slow down, sailor!" called out an inebriated man in a bow tie. "You're making me dizzy."
Hunter didn't slow down. It was nearing midnight and he wanted to get back to the cabin in time to patch over the rough spot he and Jeannie had experienced that afternoon. Besides, he found he missed Daisy.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside the drawing room. A tiny lamp burned on the tiny desk, but other than that, all was still. And quiet.
"Damn," he muttered, tossing his room key down on the mini-sofa. He considered knocking on her bedroom door but that would only wake up Daisy and defeat his purpose entirely.
He yanked off his tie then helped himself to a tumbler of Scotch. In some ways it might have been easier if he'd schlepped Daisy to all the meetings himself and saved himself the complications he'd found with Jeannie.
Of course he hadn't figured there would be any complications when he'd put the idea to her the night they'd shared the pastrami sandwiches. The whole thing had seemed pretty straightforward.
Showed how much he knew about life.
Watching her with Daisy called up all sorts of feelings inside him. Hallmark Card feelings. Nothing like he'd ever felt before--or even imagined, for that matter.
And tangled up in that mess of hearth and home
was a very real, very fiery attraction that was making it hard for him to remember this trip was work and not play.
Early Sunday morning the Star of the Atlantic executed a slow and lazy loop, then headed back toward New York.
Jeannie supposed it wasn't a moment too soon. She and Hunter had never recovered that easy camaraderie they'd shared at the beginning. Not that there hadn't been some fiery sparks of temper at the start. Funny thing, their bursts of temper hadn't really been the problem.
It was their growing awareness of each other that was making things difficult.
"Speak for yourself," she muttered as she fed Daisy her breakfast cereal and nursed her own cup of coffee. Just because she was mooning around like a starry-eyed schoolgirl was no reason to think her feelings were reciprocated.
Obviously they weren't. The man was doing his level best to keep his distance. In the past twenty-four hours they'd barely seen each other except to say hello and pass on information about Daisy.
After breakfast she dressed Daisy in an adorable bright blue romper outfit with a matching headband then donned skorts and a t-shirt. They watched a shuffleboard match, dangled their bare feet in the outdoor swimming pool, and watched the clouds drifting overhead in kaleidoscopic patterns.
Lunch came and went without a sign of Hunter anywhere. She knew he'd been sent on this cruise with expectations of failure. Bagging the cruise line's account would go a long way toward cementing his position at CN&S. And she wanted that for him.
Daisy's eyes drooped not long after lunch. Jeannie excused herself to put the baby down for a nap. In truth she'd half-expected to find Hunter in their cabin with his briefcase and papers strewn from stem to stern.
The cabin looked as immaculate as her apartment--and every bit as lonely. She hated that untouched look and she set about rumpling pillows and generally mussing things up the best she could.
She put Daisy down in her crib then rattled around the suite, at loose ends. She flipped on this ship's radio, heard a lushly romantic ballad, then switched it off. She gazed out the porthole but was too short to see anything but sky.
Daddy's Girl (Bachelor Fathers) Page 7
