LITMIR.BIZ

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haunted him. She wasn’t tall, yet her perfect proportions gave the illusion of height—and he ached to touch her, every tempting inch.

      Dammit, why couldn’t she have stayed hidden behind those loose dresses and revolting pants she wore? First the wet one-piece and now this: tight candy-striped Lycra bike shorts, and a T-shirt fitted enough to highlight the curves he’d love to run his hands over.

      He’d snuck back to the gym, watched the last few minutes of her class. And he had been blown away.

      In a whirl of high kicks, arm twirls and jiggling breasts, she’d morphed from shy innocent to action goddess, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t wipe her from his mind.

      This teasing was getting out of hand. It had been fun at the start, amusing to get a smile out of that prim mouth, a rare fiery flash from those sombre hazel eyes. But some-where along the way the lines had blurred, and what had started out as a bit of harmless fun to get a subdued woman to lighten up had morphed into his wanting her.

      Seriously wanting her. His thoughts consumed by her day and night.

      That kiss on the beach last night had changed everything.

      He’d given in to temptation unprepared for the ferocity of her response—a response that had kept him up all night wishing he hadn’t let her flee.

      First her astounding response. Now her metamorphosis from shy and nervous to bouncy and brilliant.

      If he hadn’t been intrigued enough before, he sure as hell was now, and despite the importance of keeping his mind on the job this cruise, he had to know more.

      What was it about her that had him coiled tighter than an anchor chain?

      He rubbed the bridge of his nose, but it did little to erase the beginnings of a headache building behind his eyes.

      She was forthright and tetchy—not his type at all. Yet she was so delightfully unaffected, with an underlying hint of vulnerability that tugged at his heartstrings no matter how hard he tried to ignore the fact he still had a heart.

      But he couldn’t get involved. At least not emotionally. Not now.

      Besides, how would she feel if she knew he’d conned her? He hadn’t placed any call to head office. He didn’t have to. One of the perks of being the boss.

      Speaking of which, he needed to get back to work. He was close, so close, to discovering the saboteur who was plaguing the company.

      While Shelley’s fall might well have been an accident, there had been a couple of other incidents that weren’t as easily dismissed. His uncle’s suspicions that the Ocean Queen would be the next target had been well-founded. And the sooner he found the person who hadn’t disclosed a reckless disregard for everyone’s safety and comfort when boarding, the easier things would be for his uncle.

      He owed Jimmy and, as he’d told Lana, he always paid his debts.

      What would she think of the purely carnal payback system he’d like to instigate with her?

      Lana stood under the shower, cool water sluicing down her body. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, enjoying the spray peppering her face, though it did little to wash away the memory of that damn kiss.

      She was determined to forget it, to relegate it to the back of her mind alongside other horrific moments, like the time she had walked in on one of her students with the museum taxidermist in a decidedly unstuffy moment in the archive room, or the time she’d bawled when she’d got her first promotion.

      Truly shuddery, forgettable moments—just like her response to that kiss last night.

      So why couldn’t she wipe the memory, however hard she tried?

      As she tipped her head forward and tied a towel turban-style around her dripping hair, she had a vision of Zac’s hungry stare as she’d left his office. Not that she’d wanted to provoke him—far from it. But he delighted in rattling her, in teasing her, and she’d wanted to get one back.

      It hadn’t worked. The desire in his gaze had been real, potent, and oh-so-scary for a novice like her. Old Lana would have jumped ship and swum back to shore before he could wink. But she wasn’t the old Lana any more.

      The old Lana wanted a husband, a family, a house in the suburbs to come home to every night after another satisfying day at the museum.

      The new Lana still wanted all those things, but for the first time in her life she was experiencing the flicker of excitement that came with self-assurance—the heady rush of having a guy like Zac pay attention to a geek like her.

      She’d never had that. Jax had faked a few compliments, fuelled her need to be noticed by a guy—any guy—and had reeled her in as part of his plan. He had used her before saying she was frigid when she couldn’t deliver what he’d wanted. His disdain haunted her to this day.

      She knew his accusation was why she didn’t date very often, why she froze when a guy got physically close.

      So why had she combusted in Zac’s arms during that kiss?

      Subconsciously she knew.

      She wanted to feel alive, wanted to tap into the passion simmering deep inside, wanted to be bold and brazen and beautiful rather than a mousy, boring workaholic.

      Zac had a way of looking at her as if she was the only woman in the world, and when he did the small, wistful part of her that wanted to be that confident woman dared to hope.

      She made it back to his office with a minute to spare.

      ‘Come on in. I’ve got the forms for you.’

      ‘Great.’

      As she stepped into the office he briefly touched her elbow, bending lower on the pretext of closing the door. ‘What? No perfume?’

      Her gaze snapped to his, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of a cheeky grin before he turned away. Her scowl was wasted.

      ‘Why don’t I take them away with me, fill them out, and drop them at the front desk when I’m done?’

      She might be feeling braver after breezing through the class, but there was something about him now—the way he looked at her, as if seeing her in a new light. While she should be happy, her inner introvert trembled at what he might do if he sensed the change in her.

      He tapped the stack on his desk, beckoned her over. ‘Believe me, when you take a look at these you’ll be thanking me for filling them out here. I’ve helped employees through the rigmarole before; we’ll get it done in half the time.’

      Okay, so he was being helpful. Then why did it feel like the Big Bad Wolf lending Red Riding Hood a hand before gobbling her up?

      ‘Right—let’s get to work, then.’

      She plopped on the chair opposite his, drew the forms towards her.

      He stilled her hand by placing his on top, setting her pulse racing as she stifled the urge to yank her hand away.

      ‘Not much intimidates you, does it?’

      She raised an eyebrow. If he had any idea how her heart thumped, her lungs seized and her insides quaked at his simple touch, he’d withdraw that statement.

      ‘I can usually handle stuff.’

      Professionally, that was. Anything else and she was about as poised as a toddler on ice-skates.

      ‘Think you can handle me?’

      His voice had dropped seductively low, and the smouldering flame in his eyes warmed her, warning her that she was in way over her head with this one if she thought for one second a small boost in confidence could cope with the likes of him at his tempting best.

      ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard.’

      She almost bit her tongue in frustration, unwittingly adding to the wordplay. Heat suffused her cheeks, and she wished

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