Nicola Marsh - Bedroom Seductions

She waved away his comment. ‘Impulse kisses. You turning on the charm.’

‘And tonight?’

After the time they’d spent together, after she’d grown to trust him through his actions—he hadn’t pushed her for sex once, despite his admission just now of how much he wanted it—emotion had more than clouded her judgment. It had taken over to the point she didn’t know why she was holding him at bay any more.

She raised her eyes to his, silently imploring him to understand. ‘Tonight I’ve realised you’ve crept under my guard. And I’m starting to like it.’

The first flicker of awareness in his steady gaze made her want to execute a perfect swan dive into the ocean.

‘How much?’

Drawing on her meagre reserve of resolve, she placed a tentative hand on his chest. ‘A lot.’

He caressed her cheek softly, lingering for an exquisite moment. ‘Then where do we go from here?’

Damned if she knew.

After Zac had walked Lana back to her cabin, he headed for the place he did his best thinking: the bridge.

Ever since he’d joined the fleet as a young, eager sailor he’d loved this control centre of a ship, the hub that drove these monstrous vessels. He loved the quiet efficiency of the staff going about their business, he loved the view, and—like any guy—he loved the gadgets. Hundreds of them, that beeped and lit up and made his fingers itch to touch them.

He usually popped up here on the pretext of consulting with the Captain over something, when in reality he loved the buzz, the feeling of control. He now owned this baby, and the decisions he made could drive her and the rest of the fleet further than the company had ever been before.

Ironic, considering he had no control over his situation with Lana. Or, more precisely, control over his burgeoning feelings.

He couldn’t believe what she’d just told him. Sure, he’d caught the odd gleam in her eyes that said she was thawing towards him in the attraction stakes—not to mention her genuine responses to his kisses—but to say she was emotionally involved?

Hell. It blew him away.

It was exactly what he wanted—what he’d hoped for to lead into a full-blown long-distance relationship, whatever that might entail.

The kicker was she’d given him the perfect opportunity to say he was emotionally involved too, but he’d held back.

For, no matter how long he stewed over this, hashing out scenarios, it all came back to Uncle Jimmy and the fact he couldn’t let him down—couldn’t let the man who’d given him everything die alone.

Which meant he’d be on the other side of the world for a year, a whole three hundred and sixty-five days, and he’d be damned if he expected her to wait for him for that length of time. She deserved more.

Besides, he’d travelled down this road before, with Magda waiting at home for him, and it had killed his marriage. She’d changed while he’d been away, irrevocably, and there’d been no going back.

But Lana wasn’t Magda, and he owed it to her—to himself—to let her make the decision.

Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he sank into the nearest chair, leaned back and focussed on the control panel in front of him.

He had to give her the option—had to know he’d tried his damnedest to make it work with this quick-witted, infuriatingly shy, naturally beautiful woman. She was worth it—every unaffected inch of her.

He just hoped she cared enough to take the risk.

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