Bedroom Seductions. Nicola Marsh
you? How’re you feeling?’
A slight pause followed by a grim throat-clearing. ‘Can’t complain.’
James Madigan wouldn’t. He hadn’t complained when Zac had left him in the lurch for a year, after he’d run off to marry Magda, hadn’t complained when he’d had a near-fatal heart attack as a result of the stress from his increased workload—picking up the slack because of Zac’s selfishness—and hadn’t complained when Zac had outlined his plans for a future in direct opposition to his.
He was that sort of man: rock-solid, steadfast. And he was the man Zac owed everything to—the type of man he aspired to be.
‘Your PR stint working out okay?’
‘Yeah, the staff are buying it, and I’m getting the info I need, so that’s the main thing.’
Jimmy coughed—an ear-splitting, hacking cough that chilled Zac’s blood. Aware that his uncle hated appearing weak in any way, he quickly tried to distract him.
‘Get this. I had Helena Rock on my case this morning, going berserk. Can’t tell you how close I was to telling her I actually run the company now. That would’ve put the old battle-axe back in her place.’
Jimmy chuckled—something Zac wished he could hear more often. ‘Lucky you didn’t. Otherwise you’d have had a mutiny on your hands. Imagine if everyone knew I’d made you head honcho and hadn’t announced it officially yet? You wouldn’t get to catch the bastard hurting our ships, for a start.’
‘You’re right. But I hate lying. The staff respect and trust me as a fellow employee. I feel like I’m using them.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. This is business. Cruise lines are becoming more competitive every day. We can’t afford to let this stuff continue or it’ll really start to hurt us. It’s your company now.’ He paused, the rattle in his throat indicating another cough coming on. ‘I’d do the job if I could. Unfortunately, I’m just an old sea dog who has to live vicariously through you these days, so make sure you do a damn good job.’
Zac searched for words to reassure him, to explain he couldn’t be prouder that Jimmy was leaving him the company he’d built from scratch. Though he was glad to get a chance to feel the salt air in his face one last time.
As if reading his mind, Jimmy said the right thing—as usual.
‘I wouldn’t have placed you in charge of my empire unless I thought you were capable, Zachary.’
‘Yeah—a regular shipping magnate, that’s me.’
He’d wondered why his uncle had pushed him into shipping after he finished his commerce degree, not twigging that the crafty codger was grooming him till a year into his first contract. By then he’d been hooked—addicted to the shifting deck under his feet and the tang of salt air in his lungs.
He was proud to be in charge of the Madigan Shipping conglomerate, and would do whatever it took to make it the best damn shipping line in the world. He had big shoes to fill. He owed Jimmy. Now more than ever.
‘You’re doing a fine job, my boy. Now, you better get back to work. Just because you’re the boss now, doesn’t mean you can slack off.’
Zac laughed, half raising his hand in a salute just as he’d used to when he was a little boy, before dropping it uselessly, all too aware he wouldn’t have much time left to share a joke with his uncle.
‘You look after yourself.’
He only just heard a mumbled, ‘You’re as bad as these damn nurses,’ before Jimmy hung up.
Life was short. Seeing a strong, vibrant man like Jimmy fade away reinforced that, and he’d be damned if he sat here and let Lana disembark next week without fully exploring this unrelenting attraction driving him to seek her out almost every second of the day.
He didn’t want to look back on this time and regret it—didn’t want to be left with memories of a kiss and little else.
She could run but she couldn’t hide, and tonight he’d make sure she knew exactly how much he wanted her.
A woman like Lana needed to be wooed, deserved to be treated right—starting with a romantic first date designed to bring a smile to her face and banish her doubts that he was anything other than genuine—in his pursuit of her, at least.
SHE was lousy at this.
Zac had flirted with her over starter, main course and dessert, showering her with flattery, teasing her, making her laugh. By the time she’d finished a divine lime tart smothered in lashings of double cream her sides and her cheeks ached, and he’d well and truly slipped under her guard despite logic telling her he was playing a game.
‘Fancy having coffee in one of the lounges?’
He leaned towards her, immediately creating an intimacy excluding the rest of the people at their table. It set her pulse racing, throwing her off balance quicker than the two-metre swells buffeting the ship.
‘Only if you let up with the compliments.’
‘Why?’
His eyes darkened like storm clouds scudding across a midnight sky.
‘It’s overkill.’
‘But all true.’
She raised an eyebrow and sent a pointed look at her unadorned navy shift dress. ‘You think I look good in this?’
His gaze dipped to her dress, lifted to focus on her lips, before his curved into a roguish smile.
‘What you wear is irrelevant. You’re beautiful.’
She exhaled on a soft sigh, wishing for one incredible moment she could be seduced into believing him, giving in to his low voice, his hypnotic eyes, his sincere expres-sion. But she wasn’t beautiful, far from it, and falling under a suave sailor’s spell was beyond foolish.
‘Now that you’ve exercised all those smooth sailor boy lines for the evening, maybe I will have that coffee. I’m in need of a caffeine hit to wake me from the stupor you’ve got me in after all that stuff you’ve been shovelling.’
He laughed. ‘It’s a date. Just let me drop by the office to check on a fax, and I’ll meet you in the Crow’s Nest Lounge in ten minutes?’
‘Make it five?’
‘Can’t bear to be away from me for long?’
‘Actually, I was thinking more of the fact I need to be up early for my first official aerobics class, so I don’t want to be out too late.’
‘Spoilsport. I thought you might be pumping up my ego for a delusional moment there.’
‘Like you need it.’
Tapping her watch face, she sent him a saccharine-sweet smile. ‘Four minutes and counting. If you want that coffee you’d better get a move on.’
He held up three fingers. ‘Bet I beat you there.’
‘You’re on.’
She made a dash for the Ladies’ on the way, unable to resist touching up her lipstick. Woeful behaviour for a girl who rarely wore anything but a slick of moisturiser back home, but considering he kept studying her as if she was a priceless painting she had no choice. That sort of scrutiny put a girl under pressure—especially one who didn’t feel beautiful, let alone believe she deserved compliments—and she needed all the help she could get.
As she strolled into the Crow’s Nest with ten seconds to spare, her stomach somersaulted as she caught sight of Zac at a cosy table for two in the farthest corner, beckoning her over with a smug smile.
‘What