Free The Bridal Bargain by Emma Darcy Page A

mark with her husband who had maintained an air of arrogant boredom towards her malicious game-playing.
    Tony had brushed off Jodie Lovett’s questions about Hannah, stating only that she held the position of chef on Duchess. Flynn Lovett had bluntly told his wife to “put a gag on it” when she’d started claiming that Hannah’s being a chef was ridiculous. He’d given Tony his full co-operation in diverting the conversation onto other subjects, much to his wife’s chagrin. Yet Tony was convinced Flynn had been playing his own game—a waiting game—and the focus of all the games today was Hannah.
    Why was the big question.
    And why would she want to run away from them?
    He could only think that old wounds had been reopened. Bad wounds. Bad enough that re-visiting them was intolerable.
    Tony didn’t like that, either.
    He wanted the butterfly flying free with him, not pulled away and hurt by these people.
    “We won’t take the usual route along the promenade deck to the office,” he instructed. “We’ll walk straight ahead into the shopping mall, bypassing the open-air table they’ve selected.” Without pausing a beat he added, “For someone who’s not a trained chef, I’d have to say you have a fine touch with barramundi.”
    She darted an apprehensive glance at him and he grinned at her. “You delivered. That’s what counts. Now smile back at me. We’re going to have a happy chat and not even notice the Lovetts.”
    Her smile flashed out, tinged with relief at his acceptance of her. “I have had training, Tony. Though not anything formal. More like an apprentice.”
    “Best training of all,” he approved, pleased she could still say his name with that spine-tingling lilt. “What’s more, everyone on the crew likes you. You’re amongst friends, Hannah.”
    “They’re a nice bunch of people.”
    “True. I picked them myself.”
    Her eyes flashed irony. “Except for me.”
    “You’re certainly the surprise package but I’m not about to give you up. They’re watching. Beam me another bright smile.”
    She did.
    “You’ve got killer dimples, Hannah O’Neill, and I want to hear you laugh.”
    She managed it, chasing away the hunted look his warning had briefly evoked.
    Having twigged that her quarry was heading towards the mall doors instead of the promenade, Jodie Lovett grabbed her husband’s arm, urging action. Flynn unfolded himself from his chair, waving to catch attention. “Tony, come and have a drink with us. Hannah, too.”
    The fingers Tony held instantly scrunched up, nails biting. It was disturbing proof that Flynn got to her more than Jodie did—Flynn, the man! And this was not the past. This was here and now. The idea of any man having a strong effect on Hannah stirred all Tony’s hackles.
    He did not so much as slacken their pace towards the mall, though he acknowledged the call by raising his arm in a farewell salute. “More work to do. Enjoy yourselves.”
    Which brought Jodie to her feet, fighting against having their plans frustrated. “Join us when you’re finished,” she pressed.
    “Other plans,” he cheerfully excused.
    The doors opened.
    As they reached the relative safety of the mall, closing out the Lovetts who would make themselves ridiculous chasing after them at this point, Tony was acutely aware of Hannah’s shoulders sagging in relief. He decided not to comment. He had a strong suspicion she was not home free yet. All his instincts were telling him she had become a strong focus of discontent between the Lovetts today and they were not the kind of people to accept having their own interests frustrated.
    They were used to winning.
    But they were on Tony’s home ground. So was Hannah. And Tony had no intention of losing. He’d take the battle right up to them if he had to. The hand in his gave him the right to do it and he was not about to let that right slip. Not for a moment. Not while ever Flynn Lovett was in town!
     
    Hannah’s knees were like