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ChapterOne
As the taxi screeched to a halt, Lana Walker flung open the door and scrambled for her bags.
“Hey, slow down, you haven’t missed the boat.” The deep groove in the driver’s caterpillar mono-brow had been honed with years of practice if his glare was any indication.
The way she saw it, she may have arrived on time to board the Ocean Queen but she’d missed the boat metaphorically in every other way that counted—which was exactly why she was taking this trip.
She scrimmaged for the fare and darted a curious glance at the ship, spotting several officers in white uniforms on deck. Very impressive—and the ship wasn’t half bad either.
A shadow loomed over the open passenger door as the driver dumped her suitcases and held out his hand. “Some people have all the luck. How about my fare, lady?”
Grouch. She resisted the urge to poke out her tongue as she handed him the money, stepped out of the cab, picked up her luggage, and headed for the escalators.
What would he know about luck? She’d worked hard for what she had, damn hard: five years as curator at Melbourne’s premier museum followed by sixteen months as head curator at a notable museum in Sydney had been amazing, stimulating, and stressful. Sure, she had a stellar reputation in the industry and a gorgeous apartment in the beachside suburb of Coogee, but that was about it.
She didn’t have a life.
No time-out, no socialising, no fun.
Over the next two weeks, she planned to change all that.
Though luck had played a part in this trip; if she hadn’t won the cruise, she wouldn’t have taken a vacation, considering her sad workaholic status.
As thoughts of work crowded her head, namely how she’d missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime courtesy of her crippling shyness, she stumbled at the top of the escalator and pitched forward, silently cursing the three-inch heels her shoe-crazy cousin Beth had loaned her for the trip. So much for the illusion of height giving her extra poise. It would be difficult to feign elegance when she landed on her butt.
Grabbing wildly at anything more stable than her, she exhaled on a relieved sigh as a strong pair of arms shot out, holding her in a vice-like grip.
“Whoa. These escalators are lethal if you don’t concentrate. Too busy daydreaming, huh?” The smooth voice, with more than a hint of amusement in its husky depths, sent an unexpected shiver down her spine as she looked up into her rescuer’s face.
Wow.
Seeing good-looking guys on a daily basis was a perk of her job. The museum was a haven for sexily scruffy archaeological students, attractive teachers, even the odd distinguished university professor. Yet this guy who pinned her with arms displaying a great set of biceps was so much more than that. Striking was more appropriate. Even sex-on-legs as brazen Beth would say.
Hypnotic eyes, a deep, cobalt blue, were fringed with long dark lashes any woman would envy, and those baby blues were focused on her, a teasing glint in their rich depths.
She inhaled sharply, unprepared for an intoxicating fresh, citrus scent that left her head spinning and not just from her near-fall. As for his lips curving upward with the hint of a smile, for the first time in her reclusive life she understood the term kissable.
All too aware she was staring—gawking, more like it—she lowered her gaze, only to be confronted by an equally intriguing sight, a broad expanse of tanned chest where the two top buttons of his shirt were undone.
She’d wanted to gain confidence, step outside her comfort zone, and experience new things this cruise; broaden her outlook to the extent she was never passed over for a business opportunity again, and had been thinking along the lines of dance lessons, lectures on exotic destinations, shore excursions, that sort of thing.
However, being held by this guy had her mind sailing down channels she’d never usually contemplate. Not a bad thing entirely, if taking this vacation had already affected her mindset. Maybe shy, geeky Lana—as she’d once overheard some colleagues call her—was already slipping into vacation mode.
Her heart thumping, whether in fear of her strangely errant thoughts or excitement at what they might urge her to do, she eased out of his grip.
He grinned, and typically, he had a sexy smile to match the rest of him. “Do I pass inspection?”
Great, he knew she’d been checking him out. Her subtlety skills were on a par with her wardrobe: shabby at best.
“What makes you think I was inspecting anything? You were holding me so tight I had nowhere to move, let alone look.”
“Feisty.” His eyes gleamed and the corners of his too-tempting-for-comfort mouth twitched in amusement. “I like that.”
Heat suffused her cheeks as she struggled to come up with a comeback. She hated how she always thought of a great retort ten minutes too late. How was it she could bail up a slack student in a second, but right now her brain—a whiz at cataloguing priceless artefacts, leading tour groups and calculating storage data—was totally befuddled?
“Thanks for breaking my fall.”
As replies went it was pretty lame. Pathetic, in fact; looked like her comeback skills had sunk to the same level as her flirting expertise: below average bordering on non-existent.
