found both exhilarating and highly challenging. It was great to feel captain of his ship, master of his fate, the holder of knowledge he could use as he saw fit.
He wasn’t expecting to be rocked again.
Fate decreed otherwise.
CHAPTER SIX
Hannah is mine!
The possessive ring of those words had been so loud and strong, nothing else had really penetrated Hannah’s mind during the brief meeting with Tony’s brother, the tropical fruit plantation King, Matt... Matteo...more Italian-looking than Tony or Alex, his eyes so dark they were almost black, reminding her of his grandmother.
Tony had cut him off so fast, she’d only had an initial impression of big vitality, then... Hannah is mine! Was it simply a territorial demarcation, brooking no interference with his staff placement? Or was it as personal as it had sounded? Intensely personal.
She’d been incredibly nervous about coming face-to-face with Tony this morning. Having watched and assisted Chris for the past two days, she was reasonably confident of handling the job. That wasn’t the problem. It was the feeling that Tony King had the power to stir things in her she had no control over, which really threw her into a loop.
Physical attraction was fine. It was natural. Mutual attraction made it all the more exciting. But chaos had never been acceptable in Hannah’s world. She liked to plan, to have her life proceeding in an order that made sense to her, that resulted in foreseeable outcomes. Of course, one had to make reasonable allowances for the unpredictable, and she’d always been able to adjust quickly to external surprises. But she’d been well and truly rocked by the internal shocks Tony King had left her with on Wednesday afternoon.
Hannah is mine!
Did he sense he could just take her if he wished?
It was a terribly disturbing thought. She wasn’t just a body that responded willy-nilly to his. She needed to get some respect going here. There was a little matter of freedom of choice, too. Tony King did not own her, not even as a chef. Being on trial went both ways. She could leave if she wanted to.
Though when it came to wanting, she couldn’t help thinking he looked stunningly handsome in his white and navy captain’s uniform. Most of the incoming female passengers obviously thought so, too, glowing as he greeted them on entry to the saloon, then casting an interested second glance at him as they advanced to the bar for tea or coffee.
“A terrific host,” Sally had said, and certainly he was giving out pleasure as though he had an endless well of it to give. In fact, Hannah was beginning to feel quite jealous of the smiles he bestowed so easily on other women. She remembered his first smile to her up at the castle, before his grandmother had declared her the new chef for Duchess. Definitely pleasure. But he’d withheld it from her ever since. Which begged many questions and didn’t make her feel good.
Nevertheless, she put on a happy face for the people she was serving, automatically feeding their anticipation of having a wonderful day ahead of them and fully intending to contribute to it every way she could. It wasn’t her fault that the smile froze on her face at the sound of a voice she’d never wanted to hear again.
“Hannah! I can’t believe it! What on earth are you doing here? I thought you must have taken some topflight job overseas...”
Jodie! Her ex-best friend, Jodie Dowler. Who was now Jodie Lovett, Flynn’s wife. Which meant... Hannah’s heart dropped like a stone at the thought of Flynn being on board, too.
Here was Jodie almost at the bar, her long black hair still styled into a sexy tousled look with artistic strands hanging around the darkly pencilled blue eyes, bright red lipstick matching a bright red shirt, gold belt, tight white slacks—gorgeous Jodie, babbling loudly about Hannah having completely dropped out of the scene. Had she always been so loud?
Tony was frowning, his gaze darting between the two of
He wasn’t expecting to be rocked again.
Fate decreed otherwise.
CHAPTER SIX
Hannah is mine!
The possessive ring of those words had been so loud and strong, nothing else had really penetrated Hannah’s mind during the brief meeting with Tony’s brother, the tropical fruit plantation King, Matt... Matteo...more Italian-looking than Tony or Alex, his eyes so dark they were almost black, reminding her of his grandmother.
Tony had cut him off so fast, she’d only had an initial impression of big vitality, then... Hannah is mine! Was it simply a territorial demarcation, brooking no interference with his staff placement? Or was it as personal as it had sounded? Intensely personal.
She’d been incredibly nervous about coming face-to-face with Tony this morning. Having watched and assisted Chris for the past two days, she was reasonably confident of handling the job. That wasn’t the problem. It was the feeling that Tony King had the power to stir things in her she had no control over, which really threw her into a loop.
Physical attraction was fine. It was natural. Mutual attraction made it all the more exciting. But chaos had never been acceptable in Hannah’s world. She liked to plan, to have her life proceeding in an order that made sense to her, that resulted in foreseeable outcomes. Of course, one had to make reasonable allowances for the unpredictable, and she’d always been able to adjust quickly to external surprises. But she’d been well and truly rocked by the internal shocks Tony King had left her with on Wednesday afternoon.
Hannah is mine!
Did he sense he could just take her if he wished?
It was a terribly disturbing thought. She wasn’t just a body that responded willy-nilly to his. She needed to get some respect going here. There was a little matter of freedom of choice, too. Tony King did not own her, not even as a chef. Being on trial went both ways. She could leave if she wanted to.
Though when it came to wanting, she couldn’t help thinking he looked stunningly handsome in his white and navy captain’s uniform. Most of the incoming female passengers obviously thought so, too, glowing as he greeted them on entry to the saloon, then casting an interested second glance at him as they advanced to the bar for tea or coffee.
“A terrific host,” Sally had said, and certainly he was giving out pleasure as though he had an endless well of it to give. In fact, Hannah was beginning to feel quite jealous of the smiles he bestowed so easily on other women. She remembered his first smile to her up at the castle, before his grandmother had declared her the new chef for Duchess. Definitely pleasure. But he’d withheld it from her ever since. Which begged many questions and didn’t make her feel good.
Nevertheless, she put on a happy face for the people she was serving, automatically feeding their anticipation of having a wonderful day ahead of them and fully intending to contribute to it every way she could. It wasn’t her fault that the smile froze on her face at the sound of a voice she’d never wanted to hear again.
“Hannah! I can’t believe it! What on earth are you doing here? I thought you must have taken some topflight job overseas...”
Jodie! Her ex-best friend, Jodie Dowler. Who was now Jodie Lovett, Flynn’s wife. Which meant... Hannah’s heart dropped like a stone at the thought of Flynn being on board, too.
Here was Jodie almost at the bar, her long black hair still styled into a sexy tousled look with artistic strands hanging around the darkly pencilled blue eyes, bright red lipstick matching a bright red shirt, gold belt, tight white slacks—gorgeous Jodie, babbling loudly about Hannah having completely dropped out of the scene. Had she always been so loud?
Tony was frowning, his gaze darting between the two of
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