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      Tony gave up. Hannah O’Neill had somehow wormed her way into his grandmother’s good books and she was now being given the ultimate seal of approval—afternoon tea with Isabella Valeri King in the loggia. He was going to have to run with this ball, whether he liked it or not.

      His grandmother proceeded to play grand hostess, aided and abetted by Rosita who fussed around, making sure everything was to their liking. She even produced the carrot cake with the cream cheese and walnut topping—a sure sign the company rated five stars. He was definitely down the mine here without a tin hat to protect him.

      Having accepted the inevitable, Tony pulled over the manila folder that contained Hannah O’Neill’s particulars, and focused his mind on getting down to business. Pleasure was now out. Regardless of how strong the temptation, it was utter madness to get sexually involved with an employee. He had to keep Hannah O’Neil at arm’s length. Though even the width of the table didn’t feel far enough.

      “I see we addressed our reply to your application, care of Mason’s Shop at Cape Tribulation,” he started off, needing to establish a properly serious vein to this meeting.

      “Mmm…”

      He looked up to find her licking cream from her lips, and his stomach instantly contracted, hit by a bolt of desire so hard his mind was out for the count.

      “I was picking up my mail there,” she explained, once she had her sexy mouth composed for speech. “I spent a couple of weeks exploring the Daintree. Such an amazing rainforest. Being in the midst of it was like being plunged back in time to when…”

      “Yes,” he snapped, cutting off her disturbingly lyrical voice. He picked up a pen and jabbed it at the form she’d filled out. “So where are you staying at Port Douglas?”

      She took a deep breath.

      Her breasts rose distractingly.

      “I haven’t found a place yet. I only came down from Cape Tribulation this morning. For the interview. But I’ll find somewhere before tonight. I’ve noticed there are loads of accommodation places here.”

      Tony was gaining the fast impression Hannah O’Neill operated on a wing and a prayer. She wasn’t prepared for taking on this job.

      “Tourist accommodation,” he pointed out. “If you intend to stay the whole season…”

      “Absolutely,” she assured him. “I’ll look for something appropriate.”

      “Where have you left your luggage?”

      “I put it in a locker at the marina.” She leaned forward, smiling an eager appeal for understanding. “You see, it did rather depend on whether or not I got this job what I did next, so…”

      Definitely a wing and a prayer, Tony thought sternly, battling not to drown in her eyes.

      “You will need an apartment with a well-equipped kitchen,” his grandmother inserted authoritatively. “Antonio, until Miss O’Neill gets her bearings here, I think it best you put her in one of the guest apartments Alessandro keeps in the Coral King block.”

      “A guest apartment?” Tony eyed his grandmother, wondering if she’d gone stark raving mad. Hannah O’Neill was not family or friend. She was an employee, and hardly a highly valued one at this juncture! She hadn’t even been on trial yet.

      “I’m sure there’ll be one that’s not being currently used,” came the unshaken reply. “It will give Hannah the chance to settle into her new job and time to look around for suitable accommodation.”

      So, it was Hannah now!

      “This is very kind of you, Mrs King,” the fair-haired witch chimed in, her dangerous green eyes obviously casting spells in all directions.

      “A simple resolution to immediate problems,” his grandmother declared.

      “Right!” Tony agreed, knowing he was outgunned before he’d fired a bullet. Feeling constrained to fire other bullets before they could be diverted, he fixed a steady gaze on Hannah O’Neill and stated, “Please understand you start this job on a trial basis. The people who pay for a trip out to the reef on Duchess are promised the best of everything. Any failure to deliver it, in any area of service on that boat, cannot be tolerated.”

      “You mean…no second chances?” A touch of anxiety.

      “That depends on how large the blunder is. The odd mistake can be glossed over. Anything that spoils a day out…”

      “Would be terrible!” she exclaimed, looking appalled at the thought. Like quicksilver her expression changed, her eyes filling with eloquent earnestness. “Any little problem I might cause, I swear I’ll make up for it a hundredfold. I’ve never had any complaints lodged against me, Tony.”

      He could believe it. She could probably get anyone to forgive her anything. In fact, before they knew it, they’d probably be helping her out of whatever fix she got herself in. Here was his grandmother, giving her prime accommodation, and every time she called him by his name, his heart did this weird curl which took his mind off what he should be concentrating on.

      Was she going to be a hazard for the male members of his crew? What if the dive team lost concentration? She’d better stay in the galley where she belonged. No straying out on deck. At least his current chef on Duchess was gay, so she shouldn’t disturb him while he familiarised her with the job she’d be taking over.

      “Chris, the chef you’ll be replacing, wants to leave at the end of the week, so it would be good if you could start tomorrow, learning everything you can from him before he takes off. He’s been a top chef for us and I’m sorry to be losing him.”

      “Why is he going?”

      “Personal problems.” He sighed, giving vent to some of his frustration. Then with an ironic grimace, he added, “His partner is yearning for the more sophisticated scene in Sydney. Paradise has its limitations.”

      “I’m sure I’ll be very happy here.”

      She twinkled so much happiness at him Tony’s chest tightened against the barrage. He forced his gaze down to the papers in front of him. He couldn’t even hope she might start yearning for city lights and fly out of his life. It was clear from her résumé she’d been working in tropical climates for some time— Broome, Darwin, even a six-month stint at King’s Eden in the Kimberley. Port Douglas probably was a paradise to her.

      “So what time am I to be at the marina tomorrow?” she asked eagerly.

      “Eight o’clock. Duchess leaves at eight-thirty and returns at four-thirty. You’ll be provided with a uniform which is to be worn onboard at all times.” Which should cover up her most distracting assets. He glanced at his watch. “If we leave now, I can introduce you to the crew when they disembark this afternoon.”

      She immediately leapt up from her chair.

      The butterfly pulsed at him.

      Tony closed his eyes for one tight moment and rose to his feet, turning to his grandmother and lining up his vision on her.

      “Always in a rush, Antonio,” she sighed. “You didn’t eat anything.”

      “Sorry, Nonna. Had a big lunch,” he excused, stepping over to kiss her cheek. “Thanks again for doing the interviews.”

      “Perhaps Hannah will tempt you with her cooking.”

      Her culinary expertise was very low on the list of temptations where Hannah O’Neill was concerned. “As long as she tempts our trippers, I’ll be happy,” he said, hiding his dark thoughts.

      “Mrs King, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your kind consideration and the chance to do my best for Duchess,” came the fervent flow from the seductive voice, working some more magic on his grandmother who bestowed her most benevolent smile.

      “I hope everything works out well, my

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