He stabbed at the disconnect button on the phone, threw his pen down and leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head.
‘Well, well—if it isn’t our very own Jane Fonda.’
With a shrug, she crossed the room and plopped into a chair opposite him. ‘Jane Fonda? Aren’t you showing your age? Her exercise videos are years old.’
He laughed. ‘So how did it go? Bet those women didn’t give you a hard time.’
‘Why would they? Besides, I think they took out all their frustrations on you.’
‘Did they ever.’
He dropped his hands and stood, his sudden proximity making her rethink her choice of seat. The wide, stuffy leather chair in front of his desk had seemed perfect while he was seated, but now, with him towering over her, it wasn’t so appealing.
‘Thanks for stepping in and saving my butt.’
Oh, no. She wouldn’t think about his butt… wouldn’t go there… wouldn’t remember how she’d made a grab for it last night in that fit of insanity.
Grateful she could blame her flaming cheeks on exercise rather than embarrassment, she cleared her throat. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘Now that you’re here, it’s time we had a chat.’
‘About?’
His eyes bored into hers, challenging, determined, as he gestured towards a document on his desk.
‘Your employment contract, of course.’
‘PARDON?’
She tapped her ear, just to make sure she’d heard correctly.
He picked up the document and offered it to her. ‘Take a look. It’s your employment contract.’
‘You’re kidding, right?’
She stared at the document as if it was her marching orders to walk the plank. ‘I’m on holiday. A well-earned holiday, I might add. I helped you out of a tight spot back there, but that’s it.’
He threw the contract back on the desk and perched on the desk in front of her—way too close for comfort.
‘I understand how you feel, but I need your help. You’d only have to take two classes a day. In return, you’ll be well paid, and it won’t interfere with your holiday at all. You love your job, don’t you?’
‘My job?’
A puzzled frown knit his brow. ‘You said you’re a qualified fitness instructor?’
‘I am.’
But that wasn’t her job. Her job entailed wearing boring business suits, cataloguing boring artefacts and devising boring staff rosters.
Okay, so she did love her job, and it wasn’t always dull, but after she’d been passed over for the Egypt trip she’d started craving more, needing more, and—strangely—the opportunity now came from the most unlikely source. She stared straight at him.
Right then, it hit her like a meteor from Mars.
She needed to build her confidence this trip, and wanted to try new things in order to do so, but still she felt stifled by her conservative nature.
So what if she stepped into a new role? Became the type of person she’d like to be if she had more nerve? Besides, it wasn’t as if she was lying. She was a qualified aerobics instructor. She just didn’t do it for a living.
And who knew? Maybe doing this would give her the ability to form a coherent answer without wanting to duck her head in embarrassment every time he smiled her way?
‘Let me take a look at that.’
Trying to hide a triumphant grin and failing, he handed her the contract.
‘I took the liberty of contacting Madigan Shipping, the company that owns the Ocean Queen. I explained the circumstances and they approved a temporary employment contract—particularly when they heard the Rocks were onboard. They’re influential people in shipping circles.’
‘Do you always organise other people’s lives, or will I actually have a say in your grand plan?’
His grin broadened. ‘You’re here, aren’t you? And I’m giving you the option to sign on or not.’
‘Yeah, right.’
Skimming the contract, she nearly fainted when she spied the remuneration—on a par with her monthly salary.
For taking two lousy classes a day? Too easy. And there was that new futon she’d coveted for the spare bedroom in her flat. Not to mention the slight shoe fetish she’d developed thanks to Beth’s cast-offs. This extra cash would come in mighty handy for a pair or two of her own.
‘What do you think?’
‘I think I’m nuts, but why not?’
She picked up the pen he’d discarded earlier and signed the contract. ‘There.’
‘Don’t forget I owe you.’
His eyes glowed, magnetic and enticing, and she suppressed a shiver at what her payment might entail.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She tugged at her ponytail, twisting the ends around her finger in a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. ‘This is turning into some holiday. The ship’s amazing, the ports are interesting, and that kiss last night—’
She bit her tongue and mentally slapped herself for running off at the mouth and thinking out loud. That kiss was history, remember? Forgotten. Never happened.
His gaze focused on her mouth, and her lips tingled as his blistering stare remained riveted. Surreptitiously she scratched behind her ear, where her skin prickled the most.
What had happened to the woman who’d just instructed an aerobics class for the first time and nailed it? What had happened to her newfound bravado? It looked as if it had deserted her, along with her common sense. Imagine thinking she could sign on as an employee and keep her distance from Zac.
She fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, then rubbed the nape of her neck, wound her hair around her finger.
His gaze finally lifted from her mouth, only to lock onto her eyes, and all that endless blue was enticing and intense. She looked away first and gestured to the desk.
‘Don’t you have work to do?’
‘It can wait.’
She couldn’t stand all this tension, the air practically crackling between them, and she backed towards the door. ‘Well, I need a shower, so I’d better go.’
He stalked towards her, like a powerful alpha wolf shadowing a helpless, quivering rabbit.
‘But what about working out what I owe you?’
She waved her hand, fluttering. It was ineffectual at keeping him at bay. ‘The payment’s all there in the contract. Clearly spelled out in black and white.’
Stopping less than a foot in front of her, he leaned forward and she gasped.
‘Nothing’s ever that clear. There are many shades of grey here I think we need to figure out.’
Her breath caught as his head lowered, her heart pounding as if she’d just taken ten aerobics classes back to back.
‘Like?’
It came out a squeak, and she darted a glance to the door handle a few inches from her hand. She should grab it, twist it, make a run for it. But she couldn’t, was trapped beneath that