Romancing the Seas
Cait O’Sullivan
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
www.crimsonromance.com
Copyright © 2012 by Cait O’Sullivan
ISBN 10: 1-4405-6261-X
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6261-7
eISBN 10: 1-4405-6262-8
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6262-4
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © 123rf.com
For my family, a constant source of optimism and encouragement.
Neecy, Steph and the wonderful Jennifer at Crimson, Jonathon and Pippa wouldn’t have made it off the page without you.
Big thanks.
Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
Also Available
Chapter One
Pippa Renshaw took a deep breath and reached for the door. The well-oiled hinges swung open too easily and she nearly fell into the hotel reception area from the stair well. An anxious giggle started in the pit of her tummy and her hand flew to her forehead to hide her face, even as she steadied herself on the jamb to look around.
If she had been in any other situation than that of meeting her new boss, she would have laughed aloud with nerves as everyone in the foyer stared. It reminded her of going into a little country pub, where newcomers intrigued the regulars. Was it like that everywhere in New Zealand? And where was her new boss? Looking around, she couldn’t see him anywhere.
Her gaze flickered over two suited executives and away, but as though elastic, it was pulled straight back again. Her tummy felt like it was careering down the stairs as liquid gold eyes pierced hers, arousing feelings of familiarity. But she’d surely remember a man so attractive if she had met him before.
Pippa shook her head slightly to shift the cloud of confusion clamping down over her tired brain, shocked by the heat his gaze ignited deep within her. Embarrassed at her reaction, she lowered her eyes, sure her attraction to him flickered within them for all to see. Yet she couldn’t prevent her gaze from lingering over a set of broad shoulders, encased in a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to show strong forearms resting on long, muscular thighs.
Yummy!
Her gaze roamed further all of its own accord, enjoying the sharp square edges to his jaw, lightly flecked with stubble, the cleft in his chin, the full lower lip, the Roman nose, and those impossibly golden eyes. Eyes that were watching her with an amused expression.
Electric mortification shot through her.
The shock brought control back to her. Momentarily. She winced whilst raising a shaky hand to try to smooth down her curls.
A fine time to be looking such a mess.
His companion tapped at a sheet in front of them, and like a liquid golden sunray dissipating, the man’s gaze left her.
Feeling cold, Pippa hauled her attention back to the here and now.
Where was she again? Oh yeah. Auckland, meeting her new boss. Shame he was a not-so-attractive middle-aged man and not a drop dead gorgeous specimen like Hotty over there. Actually scratch that, who wanted sexual attraction at work? Certainly not her, not anymore.
• • •
Jonathon Eagleton gazed unseeingly at the accounts in front of him. A breath of fresh air had blown through the staid five-star Stevenson Hotel when the fire door had opened to frame an image, a vision, a what?
Whatever or whoever she was, she stole his breath. Auburn hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her cheeks flushed despite a heaving chest trying to keep oxygen in good supply. He had seen a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she’d glanced around, only for her gaze to hook on his.
Yes, he had been staring — what man wouldn’t, after all? Her simple green t-shirt hugged firm breasts, tapering to a slim waist and faded denims encasing long legs. He’d watched with increasing interest as she made a leisurely inspection of him. Visions of her hands following her gaze had caused his skin to tighten, and when her green eyes lit on his, a spark had shot through him, inciting blatant desire.
He almost got up there and then to … what? Drag her off to his cave? Crazy thoughts.
He turned back to his laptop, shaking his head to rid himself of her, and his temples throbbed with renewed vigour. As the newly hired CEO of Queen Cruises, he was fire fighting, hurtling headlong from one disaster to another. He had enough on his plate as it was.
He drummed his fingers on the table, stifling a sigh. It was only his second day on the job. His first day had gone down in history as utterly shambolic, and it looked as though today was going the same way. This meeting over-ran as he kept discovering things that warranted his immediate attention, and his next meeting hadn’t even showed.
But he hadn’t risen to the role of CEO by the age of thirty-seven for nothing. He hadn’t failed yet, and didn’t intend this stint at Queen Cruises to besmirch his excellent reputation.
He looked at his accountant, watching the redhead walk through the lobby out of the corner of his eye. “Queen Cruises are missing seven million dollars, Steve.” He gestured at the figures on his laptop screen. “These accounts could win a cooking competition.”
Steve shook his head, pulling a crooked smile. “Mulberry was a pro at conning the company. I would say he pocketed the profit for his entire three years as CEO.”
Jonathon placed his elbows on his knees and raked his hands through his hair.
“But what about James Houghton? Did he not notice anything?” It was unthinkable that the chief financial officer wouldn’t have been holding a tight rein on the company’s money.
“They were all in on it. I only joined six months ago, but the corruption was obvious. However, now that you’re on board — if you’ll excuse the pun — that’s going to change.”
Jonathon leaned back into his chair, putting one arm over the back. He smiled. “Damn right it is. The first major change is to make you CFO. I need to know I have a man I can trust in charge of finances.”
Steve stared at him with a shocked expression. “I have no experience as CFO.”
“Well, you soon will. Congratulations.” Jonathon put out his hand and shook Steve’s. “But it’s not going to be easy — your first task is to claw back that seven million.”
And to find out who the redhead is … Shame the role of CFO didn’t encompass investigating for the CEO.
Jonathon tapped his finger against his cheek. “What about the customer accommodation expansion, how did it go? I see we overspent on our budget.”
“Very well, actually,” replied Steve. “With one exception. When they ran out
of space, Mulberry gave them the all clear to expand into the staff quarters — so now we are one down on staff accommodation. But he probably didn’t worry about that, if you catch my drift.” Steve shifted in his chair.
“Care to expand?” Jonathon looked at Steve and narrowed his eyes, knowing what he was going to hear.
“It just meant someone would share his bed when he was on board. When he interviewed, the good-looking girls invariably got the job, and if they had any friends looking for a job, then they got one too. Mulberry wasn’t too picky about their capabilities as long as they were sufficiently, how shall I put it, grateful to him.” Steve nodded at him, a weary expression in his eyes. “I think that’s what happened with your new head chef of Corals restaurant, as I know Elizabeth Rankin, the previous sous-chef — not greatly talented — who enjoyed an easy ride in the kitchen recommended her.”
Lips tightly compressed, Jonathon shook his head and added head chef of Corals Restaurant to the list of employees for checking out.
The sound of an English accent broke through to him and he heard the redhead ask at the reception desk for Mulberry.
“Case in point.” Steve pulled a wry smile in the general direction of reception. “It’s not as if she isn’t good-looking, is it? And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and check on orders for tomorrow.”
“Fine, fine,” said Jonathon, concentrating instead on the girl’s voice. So she was Mulberry’s latest acquisition. Damned shame. Just when he thought she looked interesting. He prayed the sous-chef would be worth his salt.
Standing up, he strode over to the redhead. He looked pointedly at his Breitling watch and thrust his hand toward her. “Jonathon Eagleton.” He bit his name out. “You’re late.”
• • •
It was him! Oh my God!
Pippa could have cried. It had been a long couple of days, and here was a man who reduced her to a quivering wreck. Her thoughts were all a jumble — what she wouldn’t give to be back in England with no devastatingly attractive man clearly annoyed by her very presence right in front of her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eagleton,” she said with a smile that, try as she might, she couldn’t quite force into her eyes. “Had I known it was Mr. Eagleton and not Mr. Mulberry meeting me, I would have left a message for you, rather than him. I had a ten-hour delay in Melbourne, so I just got in the door. I haven’t even had time to change. However, I called the hotel from the stopover and asked them to pass the message on.”
“Well, you should have left it for Queen’s Cruises, rather than a named associate. Anything could have happened, and as it turned out, anything did.” His English accent gave his words an added edge and she flinched inside with each crisp articulation. He towered over her, implacable, a hard edge to his jaw.
Adrenaline pulled her back from the brink of tears. “Well, I do apologise. I didn’t know. I got here as soon as I could and haven’t had time to freshen up since my flight. I even ran down twelve flights of stairs because the lift isn’t working.” It was rare she felt like a naughty child, and the feeling wasn’t a very comfortable one.
She satisfied herself by returning his bad-tempered look, putting the full force of her jetlag and exasperation with discourteous men into her gaze. A picture could tell a thousand words and she was sure she was a portrait of annoyance.
“Mulberry has left the company.” His words were glacial.
“Right, so who is in charge then?”
“I am. I’m the new CEO.”
Pippa stared in disbelief. The feelings this man inspired in her were nothing short of cataclysmic. She felt like she was finishing a marathon, head spinning and running on instinct. Which told her this man was dangerous. The similarities — arrogance and impatience — between him and Marcus were already there. And look what Marcus had done to her.
She shivered suddenly with a premonition. Jonathon Eagleton was overpowering, and she would be helpless if ever he turned his charm on her. She swayed on her feet, and just stopped herself from clutching at his arm.
He put out his hand to steady her and looked irritated at the touch, which seared through her skin to imprint itself on her very bones. “I appreciate this is a surprise to you. Mulberry left very suddenly.” He eyed her and giving a half nod, gestured over to his table. “I have another hour’s work to do here. Why don’t you go and freshen up, and see me back down here when you’re ready.”
“Okay, thanks.” Pippa felt she should have said something else, but she was just too darned overwhelmed and not very capable anymore. Turning on her heel, she walked over to the fire exit door.
“Ms. Renshaw?”
What did he want now? She glanced around to see him pointing to the lobby.
“The lifts seem to be working.”
“Okay, thanks.” Hadn’t she already said that? Great, he had her reduced to a parrot, and not a very intelligent one, either. When the lift pinged its arrival, she fled into the corner to be out of his line of sight.
She reached her light, airy room in a daze and walked through it, shedding her clothes, wishing she could shed her thoughts as easily. Unease shifted around her lower tummy, bringing with it a feeling of foreboding. Probably just the jetlag combined with the lack of sleep and food. Nothing whatsoever to do with that man downstairs.
She turned on the shower jets and tried to scrub away the image of him looking up at her as she had walked through the door, but it was no good. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see his dark eyes piercing her soul. Her blood shivered as she remembered the unfathomable look in his eyes. Her earlier impression of golden eyes was wrong, they were tawny but with come hither flecks of gold. A girl could lose herself in such a look. Would he save her if she did? She groaned aloud, resting her head against the tiled wall.
They were destined to have a working relationship. But no more. On the bright side, at least they weren’t going to be shoulder to shoulder as she had been with Marcus. She’d be damned if she would let herself go down the same route again. Sleeping with the boss, no matter how many times he declared undying love, was a mistake made only once.
Never again.
She needed to stay away from Jonathon. He was the CEO after all, the man in charge of the company, and would have little to do with her. She took out her only set of good clothes — slim leg black trousers with a cream silk blouse — and armed herself with pep talk as she dressed.
Last meeting with him for a while so let’s get it over with and then stay as far away as possible.
She grabbed her bag and walked out the door, head held high. She could do this.
As she stepped out of the lift, her gaze flew impatiently to his. Yup, darn it, the same sizzling attraction simmered. He was on his mobile, ankle of one leg atop knee of the other, and his arm stretched along the back of the chair. He nodded to her and gestured at the chairs in front of him, carrying on talking.
Pippa folded herself into the chair, crossing her ankles neatly and casting her gaze around for something to look at, rather than him.
Hurry up, I want this over with.
He wrapped up the call, dropping the phone on the low coffee table in front of them.
“I’ve ordered some sandwiches and a pot of tea.” He gave her a half smile. “You do drink tea, I assume, being English?”
Pippa smiled to herself, briefly flirting with the thought of saying no to what sounded like an accusation, but the desire for a nice cup of tea won out. “I do. Lovely, thanks.”
“Good.” He looked at her as if seeing her properly for the first time. Pippa’s toes curled, and she distracted herself by trying to read his illegible notes on the table. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her?
Jonathon leafed through his papers until he came to the one he wanted, and holding it up, frowned at her. “Mr. Mulberry has left n
o interview details and no notes except when and where he was due to meet you. All I have are your references. Do you have a copy of your CV?”
Pippa handed over her manila folder, thanking her lucky stars she had thought to bring it. “I attended Catering College in England and came top of my class with a First. One of my friends there, a girl called Elizabeth Rankin, worked for Mr. Mulberry and suggested I get in touch about the position of head chef. She said she would recommend me, and Mr. Mulberry seemed delighted he didn’t have to advertise.”
He took her CV, throwing it on the table without even glancing at it. Pippa could’ve sworn his lip curled as he did so. “So where did you interview?”
“He was in London, passing through, and I met him there.”
“I see.” Jonathon drew the word out, and Pippa understood how a mouse might feel faced with a fierce cat closing in on it. There was a pause, and she struggled not to fidget and to meet his direct gaze. What was his problem?
He broke the awkwardness. “Tell me about your previous position.”
“I worked as sous chef for Marcus Longbottom for four years, and have worked in each of his double Michelin starred-restaurants around London.” As Pippa spoke, she drew herself up in her chair, and her voice lost its shake. It had been hard work, but she had risen to the challenge and had made quite a name for herself as an up and coming young chef.
“He’s got a first-class reputation; you must be good at what you do.” Jonathon’s tawny eyes sharpened on her face as he said this.
To her chagrin, her cheeks heated and she looked at her shoes. A few people she worked with had been jealous of her success. As a result, rumours were rife, saying she had risen to the top so quickly by sleeping with the boss. She felt, rather than saw, the keen look Jonathon gave her. She was being put through the wringer here.
“Why did you leave?” he asked.
“It was time to move on.” Pippa ignored her flush and raised her chin determinedly. She was a good chef, whether this guy believed it or not.
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