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She impulsively rested her hand on his and Daniel looked at her earnestly.
‘I think I’ll survive,’ he said, making no move to remove his hand.
She had beautiful fingers. Long and slim and soft—the fingers of an artist or a musician. He was tempted to ask if she played any instruments...
‘In fact, you aren’t the first person to have told me that I can sometimes be a little arrogant,’ he confessed, with such a rueful, charming, self-deprecating smile that Delilah could feel all her bones begin to melt.
Which made her yank her hand away at the speed of light. Her heart was beating so fast that she would have bet that if everyone in the bar fell silent they would all hear it.
‘But I prefer to think of it as being self-confident...’ he expanded softly. ‘Now, if you insist on buying a drink for me, then I will graciously accept—but on one condition...’
‘What’s that?’ She barely recognised her voice, which sounded high-pitched, girlish and breathless. She cleared her throat. She was a teacher, being paid to do a job. He was her pupil. She was also sworn off men.
Her ego had been battered and bruised by her experience with Michael. She wondered whether, instead of toughening her up the way it should have, it had somehow made her more vulnerable to someone like this guy, with his smooth charm and his insanely sexy good looks... Or was he the equivalent of a strong dose of pick-me-up tonic? Was that light, musing, flirtatious banter just a soothing balm, restoring her fragile self-confidence, making her feel good about herself?
And if it was then why should she be nervous around him? It wasn’t as though she was going to actually let him get under her skin, was she? He was nothing more than a passing stranger whose innate charm made her feel better about herself.
She relaxed when she looked at it in that light. It made sense.
‘I buy you dinner.’
‘What for?’
‘Why not?’ Daniel frowned.
‘You’ve already bought me lunch. Twice. So that we could talk about the course I offer and your contribution.’ She was doggedly determined not to let a couple of non-dates and a dinner invitation—extended because he was obviously a very sociable animal, probably accustomed to an abundance of female company—go to her head. ‘I don’t see the point of dinner. What do you want to talk about now?’
‘Good God...what sort of an answer is that?’
Delilah thought it was a very good answer to give a guy who was probably bored by the lack of female eye candy on the ship. A bit of mild flirting might do her the power of good, but it was important for him to realise that she wasn’t easy. She was probably over-thinking the whole thing, because she knew that she was no supermodel—and he was good-looking enough to have supermodels banging on his door even if he wasn’t made of money. But still...
‘How old are you?’ Daniel asked, while she was still in the middle of getting her thoughts together.
‘Twenty-one, but...’
‘We’re not at school, Delilah... Do you mind if I call you by your first name? We’re two adults on a cruise ship. I think it’s fair to say that accepting a dinner invitation from me doesn’t actually require hours of mental debate and indecision. It’s a simple yes or no scenario...’
‘Of course, but...’ But why did it feel so dangerous? Like he said, they were both adults—and why not?
‘Besides...’ He leaned forward, drawing her into an intimate circle where only the two of them existed. ‘I was given a little money before I...er...embarked on this adventure, and I promised myself that I would spend it buying dinner for a beautiful woman...’
Delilah felt a thrill of forbidden pleasure race through her at his blatant flattery. He was so utterly serious that she could feel herself going hot and cold. Gripped with sudden panic and confusion, she tried to remember if she had ever felt like this when she had been with Michael—or had that been more of a slow-burning attraction? The meeting of two minds, connected, she had thought at the time, at the same level? Of course he had been a very attractive man, too, but certainly not in this full-on, sledgehammer-to-the-ribs kind of way.
Two different situations, she told herself, frowning. This was pure lust—her body reminding her that whilst her emotions had been knocked for six, she could still respond to other men. Reminding her that she would recover from the blow she had taken and that being physically attracted to another man was the first step. This was a healthy and positive reaction to someone with drop-dead good looks.
‘Surely you wouldn’t insult me by throwing my invitation back in my face? And I thought we could make it something a bit more special than the buffet in the restaurant...’
Daniel hadn’t actually tried the buffet, but judging from what he had sampled of the other meals, he didn’t think it would be too hard to top it.
‘What would that be?’ Delilah asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
‘I’d like to see you with your hair loose,’ he heard himself say—which surprised him as much as it surprised her.
Delilah’s hand flew to her hair and her eyes widened. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Tonight. Have dinner with me. Dress up...wear your hair loose... I have money to blow and I’ve never been one to hang on to money if I can spend it. I’m going to ask your head chef to prepare a meal especially for us, and I intend to pay him way over the odds for it. Of course I’ll make sure I clear it with the captain and his...er...wife first...’
He had no doubt at all that they would accept his offer with alacrity, and it would afford him the opportunity to see exactly what standard the head chef was capable of cooking to. As with all the other members of the crew, he would be more than happy to keep the chef in gainful employment if he was up to scratch. He might be on the verge of staging a hostile takeover, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be fair in certain areas.
To his complete mystification she continued to look dubious, even though he could sense that she wanted to take him up on his offer. Even though he could sense that there was a part of her that was drawn to him...
‘I’d bet that Stan...that is his name, isn’t it?...would love nothing more than to practise the skills he’s learnt without having to consider a budget...’
‘Isn’t it a bit extravagant to blow a lot of money on a meal when you’ve still got travelling to do...? I mean, I’m assuming this is just a single leg of your journey...’
‘I’m very touched by your concern,’ Daniel said gently, ‘but I’m more than capable of looking after my finances... So what time will you be ready to join me? It’s going to be a stunning night. The water is as calm as a sheet of glass. I think I’ll get a table laid out for us in a secluded corner of the deck outside... Dining under the stars has always been something of a dream for me, and when else would I be likely to get the chance?’
Delilah wondered how much money he had to spend. She couldn’t fight the fact that it was incredibly flattering, and a bit of flattery was just so seductive to her at this point in time. What was the harm in responding to it? As long as she remained in control everything would be fine—and she knew that she was more than capable of remaining in control. She might not be very experienced, but she was experienced enough to know that she would never risk making an idiot of herself again.
‘Just dinner,’ she said quickly.
‘As opposed to dinner and...what?’
Unaccustomed to this sort of sexual banter, Delilah flushed and cleared her throat. ‘I don’t feel comfortable accepting an invitation from you when I know that it’s going to cost the earth,’ she offered lamely, only just rescuing herself from launching into a ridiculous speech about sex not being on the agenda because she wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship and she wasn’t the sort of girl who went in for meaningless flings.
‘Hardly the earth,’ Daniel pointed out drily. ‘I’ll pay the going rate for a good meal in Sydney. Or London. Or New York. Plus a little extra for the setting, of course...’
He named a figure that made her eyes water.
She had no idea what it felt like to spend that much money on a single meal in one reckless go. Her parents had seldom eaten out. In fact her mother had been a terrible cook and Sarah had usually done the cooking duties in the house. Delilah could remember meals, but they had all been basic, with food bought on a budget, because her parents had never had more than a couple of dimes to rub together. And then later, at art college, she had scraped by and so had everyone else she had known.
Even when she had been going out with Michael they had gone out on the cheap.
This seemed so generous...so impulsive...so tempting... Would it be so very wrong to accept? Would a couple of hours of being made to feel better about herself really hurt?
‘I would offer to pay half, but there’s no way I could afford it,’ she said—and if that was the end of that, then so be it, she thought. Though her mind was already leaping ahead to the seductive prospect of being made to feel desirable and attractive by a man like him. ‘I mean, I earn... Well, not much, in actual fact...because...’
‘Because they’re not making much money on this liner...?’
‘Times are tough,’ she said vaguely. ‘The economy isn’t booming and cruises aren’t the sort of things that people race to throw money at...’
Too true, Daniel thought wryly. Especially ill-conceived cruises with sub-standard food that only seemed to attract ageing hippies with limited disposable incomes...
He was mentally making a note of everything she said and everything he saw, because when it came to putting in an offer there was no way he would allow the Ockley couple to try and pull a fast one by pretending their cruises were anything but loss-making ventures.
‘Besides...’ Delilah thought of the money she was currently sending to her sister, trying to pull her weight in paying off the interest on the loan they had secured from the bank for their building work.
Daniel tilted his head to one side and looked at her narrowly. ‘Besides what...?
‘Nothing. Okay. Well, why not? Dinner might be nice... And maybe,’ she tacked on dutifully, ‘I could persuade you to extend your stay on the ship...?’
‘Maybe,’ Daniel said, non-committal.
He thought that that kind of conversation would hit a roadblock in under thirty seconds. No, this evening would be about finding out about the cruise and her fellow crew members.
And finding out about her. She’d been on the verge of saying something about where her limited income went and he had to admit that he was curious. Unlike the women he had dated in the past, she was reluctant to try and engage his attention by bombarding him with every single detail about herself. That in itself fired up his curiosity.
‘And you can tell me about your travels,’ she said wistfully. ‘Where you’re planning on heading to next...’
‘That’s easy. London.’
‘Really?’
‘I have some...some business to attend to over there...’
‘What do you do?’ Delilah asked with interest. ‘I mean, what’s your profession?’
‘I work in the leisure industry.’
Which was absolutely true. Although in fairness she probably wouldn’t get close to suspecting the role he actually played. Not so much working in the industry as running and dominating it...
‘That probably explains how you managed to get the time off to do a little drifting,’ she said with a smile. ‘I guess if you worked in an office your manager mightn’t be too thrilled if you told him that you wanted time off to explore the artist in you...’
Daniel laughed. He was rarely bothered by a guilty conscience, but he couldn’t help feeling another twinge of guilt at his deliberate manipulation of the truth.
‘I don’t have a manager,’ he murmured. ‘Funny, but I’ve always found it galling to obey someone else’s orders.’
Delilah laughed, her eyes tangling with his. He was so sexy. He had that indefinable sexiness that came with not caring what other people thought about you. He didn’t give a damn if she or anyone else thought that some of the things he said were arrogant. She got the feeling that he wouldn’t care what anyone thought about him.
Her heart picked up speed. The way he was looking at her, his eyes narrowed and brooding, sent little thrills of pleasure racing up and down her spine.
Why shouldn’t she allow herself to feel like a woman again? Surely if she didn’t then Michael would end up having the last word?
Yes, Sarah had told her that she had to learn from her experience and make sensible choices when it came to men, and Delilah knew that her sister was right. But the sensible choice held as much attraction as a bout of flu, and wicked rebellion flared inside her.
She licked her lips in a gesture that Daniel thought was unconsciously erotic.
‘No one likes taking orders from other people,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I guess we’d all like to be able to do our own thing, but unfortunately that’s not how life is.’
Daniel looked around him before settling his gaze back on her flushed face. ‘This strikes me as a pretty loose situation for you,’ he pointed out. ‘Didn’t you tell me that you’re all allowed to do your own thing on the liner, without constraints?’
‘Yes, but I’m only here for a few weeks,’ she reminded him.
‘And then what? Going to hitch a ride on another cruise ship?’
‘If only...’
Daniel leaned forward, intrigued. ‘So tell me...?’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
From a young age she had learnt that there were just too many kids who were happy to snigger behind her back. She and Sarah had been the sisters with the weird parents. They’d learned that the less they’d said about their home life, the better, so they had kept themselves to themselves. The habit was so deeply engrained that even now, as a young adult, Delilah automatically shied away from confiding.
So what was it about this guy that made her want to open up?
And why did the thought of acting against her better judgement in accepting his invitation feel so appealing?
‘I should be heading back to my cabin...’ She barely recognised her voice and took a few steadying breaths. ‘I... I’m going to do some preparation for my class tomorrow and...and...grab a bit of this beautiful weather... We should be at another port the day after tomorrow... It will be nice to just sit and soak up the sun with my book... You know... It’s all go, go, go when we dock...and my students expect me to have clever things to say about all the places of culture that we visit...so...’
Daniel smiled slowly. ‘So...’ He sat back and thought that he needed to use the afternoon productively himself. Various deals going on required his attention. Time, as they said, was money. ‘Seven sharp,’ he murmured. ‘Out on the deck. Far from the crowds...’
‘You haven’t got permission yet...’ Delilah pointed out.
‘Oh, I’ll get permission,’ he drawled.
‘Because everyone listens and obeys when you talk?’
She’d said that jokingly, but there had been a thread of seriousness behind the jest and she wasn’t all that surprised when he looked at her, eyebrows raised.
‘Without exception...’ he replied, deadly serious.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_af8e6441-aeaf-5f72-9a85-7173837a170b)
DELILAH HADN’T CATERED for dining under a starry sky with an Adonis. When she thought of guys at all now she vaguely assumed that the one meant for her would be a little dull, a little staid and a lot reliable. She’d had her brush with adventure and had pronounced herself jaded with love, only interested in a guy who would never use her, let her down or make inflated pie-in-the-sky promises he had no intention of keeping because he had girlfriends in every other port.
She hadn’t been looking for racing pulses and sweaty excitement, and she couldn’t quite believe that racing pulses and sweaty excitement had found her.
Consequently she possessed nothing in her wardrobe that was remotely suitable for dining with a man like Daniel. He hadn’t talked about his love life, but she imagined him with lots and lots of beautiful women—the female equivalent of him. Head-turning model-types who wouldn’t wear long skirts and baggy tops.
Somehow, despite his artistic inclinations, she couldn’t picture him actually going out with an artist. At least, none of the artists she knew.
In the end at precisely six-thirty, after a quick shower in her cramped en-suite bathroom, she extracted the dressiest of her outfits from the single unit wardrobe.
Another long skirt, but black, and a fitted tee shirt with sleeves to the elbows—also black.
At five foot ten, she owned no high shoes at all, so she slipped on a pair of ballet pumps, giving a welcome rest to her flip-flops.
She left her hair loose.
Even in the brief length of time it had been exposed to the blistering sun it had lightened in colour. She was accustomed to tying it back. It was just more practical. Now, staring at her reflection in the mirror, she realised that the long, unruly hair she had always wished she could tame didn’t look half bad.
Heart beating madly, she made her way to the outer deck to find him—she had had no idea where exactly he might be.
The sky was velvety black and pricked with tiny glittering stars. As he had said the ocean, dark and fathomless, was as still as a sheet of glass. The air was balmy, salty, indescribably fresh.
The sound of the passengers inside was barely discernible out here. There were a few couples strolling around, but most had confined themselves to the upper deck, which was more brightly lit and allowed easier access to the entertainment taking place inside.
Tonight, someone was doing a cabaret, and Delilah guiltily thought that it was a true indication of the finances of the liner that the person singing was really not terribly good—but then, as with Stan, Alfie, who was in charge of entertainment, was working on a tight budget.
