by Nicola Marsh
‘If she cares for you, she’ll forgive you. Besides, it’s only a little white lie. You have worked on ships as a public relations manager. You just also happen to manage the entire fleet.’ Raj chuckled, doing little to soothe Zac’s nerves.
‘I’m glad you find this situation amusing.’
‘You’re really in a bind, aren’t you?’
‘I feel so much better after talking with you.’
‘Sarcasm won’t help, my friend. I suggest you go back to your ship and think long and hard about your dilemma of the heart.’
‘Very poetic,’ Zac muttered, knowing all the soul-searching in the world wouldn’t get him out of this quandary. The way he saw it, there was only one solution: tell her the truth, start a relationship with her now and pray she’d be interested in continuing it.
Though he’d never been a fan of long-distance relationships, had seen them consistently fall apart around him over the many years he’d worked on ships, the thought of keeping in touch with her till he returned to Sydney, maybe seeing her on the odd flying visit, sent a thrill of hope through him.
‘You know, between you and Sujit you two old reprobates could start your own relationship counselling service.’
Raj laughed, picked up the car keys and slapped him on the back. ‘Come on, I’ll drop you off. Everything will work out for the best.’
He grunted in response and hoped to God his friend was right.
Lana finished her aerobics class still feeling stressed, despite rave reviews from the participants. How could she keep her mind on the job when flashes of her afternoon with Zac kept popping into her mind at the most inopportune moments?
Take the rowing machine: it reminded her of boats, which reminded her of water, which reminded her of beaches and ultimately Zac.
The treadmill wasn’t much better: walking hand in hand to the pristine lagoon, with Zac.
As for her towel, slung casually over a set of free weights, she wouldn’t even go there, considering her skin prickled at the mere thought of his hands stroking her back while she’d been lying on that towel.
Thankfully, she made it back to her cabin without any more flashbacks, though once she set foot in the small space and closed the door she slumped against it.
Of all the fish in the sea, she had to get hooked by a sailor.
She smiled at the pun, though there was nothing funny about the situation. She was falling for him. There was only so much a girl could take, and with that non-stop charm chipping away at her defences almost twenty-four-seven what hope did she have?
Considering he was a sailor and she was merely a landlubber, they had little hope of making a relationship work. Especially the type of relationship she wanted: husband, kids, noisy Sunday afternoons in her very own backyard, rolling in autumn leaves with her brood, face-painting, playing tag, scoffing sticky toffee apples. The kind of childhood she’d never had. The kind of childhood she’d yearned for.
Beth understood. She’d wanted the same thing: they’d role-played happy families countless times as lonely six-year-olds, when their mums had died in the same car crash.
Beth had found her happily-ever-after, and while Lana was pleased for her cousin there wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t secretly crave the same for herself.
Taking this cruise had been a first. Well, chalk up another—it was also the first time she’d met a guy who saw beneath her prissy veneer; the first time since Jax that she’d trusted a guy enough to get to know him better; the first time she’d felt real passion, if his kisses were anything to go by, and she knew without a doubt that if the last of her defences totally crumbled it would be the first time she’d fallen in love.
A knock on the door made her jump, and she opened it to find the man intruding on her thoughts filling the doorway, looking incredible as usual in full uniform, the gold embroidery on his epaulettes catching the light.
‘Hey, there.’
‘Hi.’
Why was it that every time he caught her unawares her ability to respond coherently vanished as fast as her resistance?
She dropped her gaze, taking in his polished dress shoes, his long legs in formal black trousers and the white jacket ending just below his waist. She usually laughed at men wearing monkey jackets, yet on Zac it accentuated his butt.
‘How did the class go?’
‘Great.’
If she discounted her obsessing over inanimate fitness equipment and how it reminded her of him.
‘Just wanted to let you know I won’t make dinner tonight. Business calls, but maybe we can catch up later? The ship sails at ten, and it’s a magical sight as we pull away from dock, so how about we meet under the bridge then?’
She hesitated. Was this wise? Spending more time with him when he’d said he wanted to get to know her better despite her resistance? Giving him the opportunity to chip away at her emotional barriers even more, to the point where they might disintegrate once and for all?
Maybe it was the wariness he glimpsed in her eyes, maybe the hint of uncertainty tugging at her mouth, but he stepped forward and touched her hand.
‘Come on, you know you’ll miss me at dinner. This way I’m just trying to make up for lost time.’
She laughed, as he’d intended, his charismatic smile disarming her quicker than she could say land ahoy.
‘Okay. I need to sharpen up a few barbs.’
He squeezed her hand before releasing it. ‘Great. I’ll see you there just before ten.’
For the second time in as many minutes she leaned against the closed door, her head filled with Zac, her heart filled with foreboding.
‘Hello, sailor.’
Zac straightened from where he’d been leaning on a railing, a poster boy for the gorgeous nautical male, silhouetted against the bridge, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. A misplaced gleam, considering she wore a boring black calf-length skirt and an olive top which had seen better days.
‘Glad you made it.’
‘Didn’t think I would, huh?’
‘I had my doubts, considering it’s probably past your bedtime.’
She chuckled and waved a finger back and forth in front of him. ‘Hey, I’m supposed to be the one practising barbs, not you.’
‘Maybe we can practise together?’
His voice dropped lower and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She shook her head, unable to keep a smile off her face.
‘You’re hopeless.’
‘Your fault.’ He sniffed the air like a hound, coming closer, too close, almost nuzzling her neck. ‘You’re wearing that damn perfume again. Any wonder I’m a broken man? Didn’t I warn you that stuff was dangerous?’
‘It’s the only perfume I own.’
Maybe she could blame the perfume for her gradual melting towards him? Ever since she’d worn it her resistance had slowly but surely unravelled.
His low, sexy chuckle had her clutching the rail for support, all too aware that her collapsing resolve had little to do with the fragrance and more to do with the man staring at her with desire in his eyes.
‘Well, if you keep wearing it you’re definitely heading for a whole lot of trouble.’
Heat flushed her cheeks and she gripped the rail so hard her knuckles stood out. ‘Oooh, I’m scared.’
‘You should be.’
And for one crazy, loaded second as he leaned towards her she almost welcomed the danger of having a guy like him interested in her.
Clearing her throat, she deliberately relaxed her fingers and straightened. ‘So, where’s this magical sight you promised me?’
‘Be careful what you wish for.’
His deep voice rippled over her like a silken caress, and her knees almost buckled right then and there.
As if on cue, the ship’s horn blasted as the massive vessel pulled away from the dock. Suva’s lights twinkled like a fairyland as the ship sailed up the channel, and a gentle breeze fanned her face—a welcome relief for her fiery cheeks.
She was no good at
this. Even with him being so nice this afternoon, even with her defences lowered, she still couldn’t throw herself into flirting unreservedly.
Hiding away was a habit of a lifetime. She’d done it as a child, leaving her dad to work through his grief, and she’d done it as a teenager, flying under the radar of her father’s countless girlfriends who had waltzed in and out of a revolving door.
No prizes for guessing where her abhorrence of casual sex came from. Her folks had had the perfect relationship, with their love for each other radiating out to include her. They’d been the epitome of the happy family before that car accident had ripped their lives apart.
Her dad had always assured her she’d come first in his life and she had. He’d mourned her mum for seven long years before dating again. But she had never understood the women who could jump into bed so quickly when her dad made it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship—never understood what motivated them to be so free and easy with something she considered a gift.
‘Well, what do you think?’
Her gaze swept the horizon, the sea. Eventually she raised her eyes to meet his, which were firmly fixed on her rather than the view. ‘You’re right. It’s magical.’
His eyes glittered in the moonlight, a sexy smile curved his lips, and the skin behind her ears gave an alarming prickle.
‘You’re not looking at the view,’ she said.
‘I prefer this one.’
She tensed as he lowered his head, barely grazing her lips, and the feather-light kiss sabotaged her initial determination to pull away, rendering her resolve to keep her distance useless.
He kissed her again and again and again, gently increasing the pressure with each kiss as a languorous heat stole from her lips to her fingertips—a heat she’d never experienced, a heat that stole through her body and into her heart.
He hadn’t laid a hand on her, yet every inch of her skin tingled as if he’d caressed it, and their lack of contact only served to increase the pleasure of their lips locked together, tasting, sampling, searching in an endless quest for satisfaction.
But she couldn’t give him satisfaction—at least not the kind a virile man like him wanted, deserved. She pulled away, wishing she was another type of woman, wishing she had the courage to let go of her reservations all at once, throw caution to the wind and see what happened.
‘Definitely magical.’ He touched her lips, still quivering from the impact of his kisses, with a reverent fingertip, gently tracing the contours, undoing her one little stroke at a time.
She needed to reassemble her wits, to say something, but her mind wouldn’t co-operate while her body was still in shock.
‘I take it this is part of your plan to get to know me better?’
As if she’d tripped a silent trigger, the shutters descended over his eyes and his smile faded. ‘Plan?’
She shrugged and wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly chilled despite the balmy breeze. She had to say this—had to be bluntly honest. It was the only way she knew. ‘You’re trying to seduce me.’
‘Am I?’
His sombre expression, the way his voice tightened, the distance he’d established between them by taking a step back, all indicated one thing: she’d insulted him.
Tugging on the end of her ponytail, matted by the wind, she met his bitter gaze head-on.
‘Come on—level with me. I may be some naïve recluse who hasn’t been on a date in far too long, but I’m not stupid. You said you like me. A guy like you has needs. So what I want to know is this. Why are you going through this game of charming me, kissing me, when there isn’t a hope in hell I’ll sleep with you?’
There—she’d said it. And while her gut churned with trepidation, her hands were surprisingly steady as she folded them in front of her, before realising she probably looked like a prim and proper nun and promptly released them.
A vein pulsed at his temple as he raked a hand through his hair, dishevelled and spiked and thoroughly tempting. Then he met her gaze, his clouded with disappointment, hers wary yet relieved that she’d asked what had been bugging her since that afternoon.
She’d had the guts to speak her mind, and he had no idea what a big deal that was.
‘This isn’t just about sex.’
‘Oh, really?’
He jammed his hands in his pockets, shoulders squared, back rigid. ‘I meant what I said this afternoon. I want to spend time with you, get to know you. But I’ll be damned if I stand here and lie about wanting to drag you back to my cabin right this very minute and have amazing sex with you all night long.’
Her mouth dropped open, a squeaky ‘oh’ escaping before she shut it.
His eyes flashed blue fire as he fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘There. Is that what you wanted to hear? Do I want to have sex with you? Hell, yeah. But I’m not going to push you. If you want me half as much as I want you, you’ll have to show me.’
She bit her tongue, biding her time, trying to unscramble her brain long enough to answer, to give him a response halfway decipherable that didn’t consist of another scintillating ‘oh’.
Her hands trembled and her belly rolled in time with the ship as it headed out to the open sea. She searched for the words to make him understand half of what she was feeling: confused, scared, excited, a mish-mash of emotions that terrified her as much as falling for this incredible man who pulled no punches and spoke the truth without flinching.
Honesty was all-important to her—one of her top criteria in her perfect man, courtesy of the elaborate lies Jax had told to manipulate her. She’d never trust a liar again, and here was a guy who was dead-set honest about what he wanted. She admired him for it, even though the blunt truth of exactly what he wanted from her scared her beyond belief.
After a drawn-out silence, he reached out and she let him take her hand.
‘Look, I’m sorry for laying all that on you. But you have to know you’re driving me crazy.’
‘Totally unintentional, I can assure you.’
His mouth kicked up at her wry answer and hers twitched in response.
‘Do you want me to back off? Slow down? Just say the word.’
Oh-oh. It was like being given a choice between a decadent double choc fudge sundae—something wickedly indulgent she knew she’d end up regretting later—and a single scoop of vanilla—plain, boring. She knew exactly what she’d get if she took the safe option.
Did she want him to back off? Really?
Her head said it was the logical thing to do, considering she’d be off the ship shortly, but her heart was giving strange little twangs it never had before, quietly urging her to take a risk for once in her sedate life.
Maybe it was her turn for a dose of healthy reality? If he ran, it wasn’t meant to be. If he didn’t… Well, she’d face that frightening prospect if it arose.
Taking a deep breath, she went for broke. ‘I can’t get physical with a guy unless I’m emotionally involved. That’s just me. And I hate to break it to you, but I wouldn’t have let you kiss me just now unless I wasn’t already starting to invest some emotion in us.’
Understanding, stark and pure, splintered in his eyes before coalescing into a bright, hard blue.
‘I’ve kissed you before.’
She waved away his comment. ‘Impulse kisses. You turning on the charm.’
‘And tonight?’
After the time they’d spent together, after she’d grown to trust him through his actions—he hadn’t pushed her for sex once, despite his admission just now of how much he wanted it—emotion had more than clouded her judgment. It had taken over to the point she didn’t know why she was holding him at bay any more.
She raised her eyes to his, silently imploring him to understand. ‘Tonight I’ve realised you’ve crept under my guard. And I’m starting to like it.’
The first flicker of awareness in his steady gaze made her want to execute a perfect swan dive into the ocean.
‘How much?’
Drawing on her meagre reserve of resolve, she placed a tentative hand on his chest. ‘A lot.’
He caressed her cheek softly, lingering for an exquisite moment. ‘Then where do we go from here?’
Damned if she knew.
After Zac had walked Lana back to her cabin, he headed for the place he did his best thinking: the bridge.
Ever since he’d joined the fleet as a young, eager sailor he’d loved this control centre of a ship, the hub that drove these monstrous vessels. He loved the quiet efficiency of the staff going about their business, he loved the view, and—like any guy—he loved the gadgets. Hundreds of them, that beeped and lit up and made his fingers itch to touch them.
He usually popped up here on the pretext of consulting with the Captain over something, when in reality he loved the buzz, the feeling of control. He now owned this baby, and the decisions he made could drive her and the rest of the fleet further than the company had ever been before.
Ironic, considering he had no control over his situation with Lana. Or, more precisely, control over his burgeoning feelings.
He couldn’t believe what she’d just told him. Sure, he’d caught the odd gleam in her eyes that said she was thawing towards him in the attraction stakes—not to mention her genuine responses to his kisses—but to say she was emotionally involved?
Hell. It blew him away.
It was exactly what he wanted—what he’d hoped for to lead into a full-blown long-distance relationship, whatever that might entail.
The kicker was she’d given him the perfect opportunity to say he was emotionally involved too, but he’d held back.
For, no matter how long he stewed over this, hashing out scenarios, it all came back to Uncle Jimmy and the fact he couldn’t let him down—couldn’t let the man who’d given him everything die alone.
Which meant he’d be on the other side of the world for a year, a whole three hundred and sixty-five days, and he’d be damned if he expected her to wait for him for that length of time. She deserved more.
Besides, he’d travelled down this road before, with Magda waiting at home for him, and it had killed his marriage. She’d changed while he’d been away, irrevocably, and there’d been no going back.
