Bedroom Seductions. Nicola Marsh

      She smiled at the pun, though there was nothing funny about the situation. She was falling for him. There was only so much a girl could take, and with that non-stop charm chipping away at her defences almost twenty-four-seven what hope did she have?

      Considering he was a sailor and she was merely a landlubber, they had little hope of making a relationship work. Especially the type of relationship she wanted: husband, kids, noisy Sunday afternoons in her very own backyard, rolling in autumn leaves with her brood, face-painting, playing tag, scoffing sticky toffee apples. The kind of childhood she’d never had. The kind of childhood she’d yearned for.

      Beth understood. She’d wanted the same thing: they’d role-played happy families countless times as lonely six-year-olds, when their mums had died in the same car crash.

      Beth had found her happily-ever-after, and while Lana was pleased for her cousin there wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t secretly crave the same for herself.

      Taking this cruise had been a first. Well, chalk up another—it was also the first time she’d met a guy who saw beneath her prissy veneer; the first time since Jax that she’d trusted a guy enough to get to know him better; the first time she’d felt real passion, if his kisses were anything to go by, and she knew without a doubt that if the last of her defences totally crumbled it would be the first time she’d fallen in love.

      A knock on the door made her jump, and she opened it to find the man intruding on her thoughts filling the doorway, looking incredible as usual in full uniform, the gold embroidery on his epaulettes catching the light.

      ‘Hey, there.’

      ‘Hi.’

      Why was it that every time he caught her unawares her ability to respond coherently vanished as fast as her resistance?

      She dropped her gaze, taking in his polished dress shoes, his long legs in formal black trousers and the white jacket ending just below his waist. She usually laughed at men wearing monkey jackets, yet on Zac it accentuated his butt.

      ‘How did the class go?’

      ‘Great.’

      If she discounted her obsessing over inanimate fitness equipment and how it reminded her of him.

      ‘Just wanted to let you know I won’t make dinner tonight. Business calls, but maybe we can catch up later? The ship sails at ten, and it’s a magical sight as we pull away from dock, so how about we meet under the bridge then?’

      She hesitated. Was this wise? Spending more time with him when he’d said he wanted to get to know her better despite her resistance? Giving him the opportunity to chip away at her emotional barriers even more, to the point where they might disintegrate once and for all?

      Maybe it was the wariness he glimpsed in her eyes, maybe the hint of uncertainty tugging at her mouth, but he stepped forward and touched her hand.

      ‘Come on, you know you’ll miss me at dinner. This way I’m just trying to make up for lost time.’

      She laughed, as he’d intended, his charismatic smile disarming her quicker than she could say land ahoy.

      ‘Okay. I need to sharpen up a few barbs.’

      He squeezed her hand before releasing it. ‘Great. I’ll see you there just before ten.’

      For the second time in as many minutes she leaned against the closed door, her head filled with Zac, her heart filled with foreboding.

      ‘Hello, sailor.’

      Zac straightened from where he’d been leaning on a railing, a poster boy for the gorgeous nautical male, silhouetted against the bridge, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. A misplaced gleam, considering she wore a boring black calf-length skirt and an olive top which had seen better days.

      ‘Glad you made it.’

      ‘Didn’t think I would, huh?’

      ‘I had my doubts, considering it’s probably past your bedtime.’

      She chuckled and waved a finger back and forth in front of him. ‘Hey, I’m supposed to be the one practising barbs, not you.’

      ‘Maybe we can practise together?’

      His voice dropped lower and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She shook her head, unable to keep a smile off her face.

      ‘You’re hopeless.’

      ‘Your fault.’ He sniffed the air like a hound, coming closer, too close, almost nuzzling her neck. ‘You’re wearing that damn perfume again. Any wonder I’m a broken man? Didn’t I warn you that stuff was dangerous?’

      ‘It’s the only perfume I own.’

      Maybe she could blame the perfume for her gradual melting towards him? Ever since she’d worn it her resistance had slowly but surely unravelled.

      His low, sexy chuckle had her clutching the rail for support, all too aware that her collapsing resolve had little to do with the fragrance and more to do with the man staring at her with desire in his eyes.

      ‘Well, if you keep wearing it you’re definitely heading for a whole lot of trouble.’

      Heat flushed her cheeks and she gripped the rail so hard her knuckles stood out. ‘Oooh, I’m scared.’

      ‘You should be.’

      And for one crazy, loaded second as he leaned towards her she almost welcomed the danger of having a guy like him interested in her.

      Clearing her throat, she deliberately relaxed her fingers and straightened. ‘So, where’s this magical sight you promised me?’

      ‘Be careful what you wish for.’

      His deep voice rippled over her like a silken caress, and her knees almost buckled right then and there.

      As if on cue, the ship’s horn blasted as the massive vessel pulled away from the dock. Suva’s lights twinkled like a fairyland as the ship sailed up the channel, and a gentle breeze fanned her face—a welcome relief for her fiery cheeks.

      She was no good at this. Even with him being so nice this afternoon, even with her defences lowered, she still couldn’t throw herself into flirting unreservedly.

      Hiding away was a habit of a lifetime. She’d done it as a child, leaving her dad to work through his grief, and she’d done it as a teenager, flying under the radar of her father’s countless girlfriends who had waltzed in and out of a revolving door.

      No prizes for guessing where her abhorrence of casual sex came from. Her folks had had the perfect relationship, with their love for each other radiating out to include her. They’d been the epitome of the happy family before that car accident had ripped their lives apart.

      Her dad had always assured her she’d come first in his life and she had. He’d mourned her mum for seven long years before dating again. But she had never understood the women who could jump into bed so quickly when her dad made it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship—never understood what motivated them to be so free and easy with something she considered a gift.

      ‘Well, what do you think?’

      Her gaze swept the horizon, the sea. Eventually she raised her eyes to meet his, which were firmly fixed on her rather than the view. ‘You’re right. It’s magical.’

      His eyes glittered in the moonlight, a sexy smile curved his lips, and the skin behind her ears gave an alarming prickle.

      ‘You’re not looking at the view,’ she said.

      ‘I prefer this one.’

      She tensed as he lowered his head, barely grazing her lips, and the feather-light kiss sabotaged her initial determination to pull away, rendering her resolve to keep her distance useless.

      He kissed her again and again and again, gently increasing