Caught? What did he mean? She gazed up at the dark figure towering over her, and all trace of hysterical humour left her. He was virtually naked; his robe, hanging loosely off his broad shoulders, hid nothing of his magnificent body, or his obvious state of sexual arousal. Her earlier fantasy was fulfilled. His powerful body was tanned all over, except for a pale strip across his lean hips! Mesmerised by the stark beauty of his virile form, she could not look away…
‘Remember, you’ve been warned,’ Alex said coldly as unselfconsciously he folded the robe over his chest and knotted the belt around his waist. ‘Now I suggest you do what you were supposedly hired for and look after Mother.’ And with that he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Saffron lay where he had left her, completely shellshocked. Nothing in her life so far had prepared her for such a lightning attack on her senses. Her body still pulsed with unfamiliar heat, her breasts felt heavy, the tips aching for she knew not what, and the lingering scent of Alex hovered in the air around her, seducing her even in his absence.
It was incredible—no, impossible, she told herself. She did not like the man, and yet for an instant she had wanted him in a shockingly sexual way. She who could count the men she had kissed on the fingers of one hand!
Slowly, as her breathing reverted to normal, she justified her reaction. It must have been a mental apparition; her response was not real, just a figment of her imagination. She was twenty-five years old and knew herself well enough to realise she was not a sexual person. Two unfortunate events in her teenage years had quickly squashed any real interest in the male sex.
At the age of ten she had lost her parents in a car crash and, left alone in the world, she’d been placed in an orphanage. It was quite nice, the staff friendly, but it could never make up for the loss of her home in Surrey and her parents. She had been thirteen, her body beginning to develop, when one of the older boys had caught her and forced her to the ground, his hands grabbing at her breasts. But Eve, her friend, had stopped him.
Saffron sighed and swung her legs off the bed. A soft film of moisture glazed her eyes as she stood up, remembering the past. Eve, two years older than Saffron, had been her best friend at the orphanage. Even after she’d left, she’d still called back occasionally to see Saffron. Eve’s untimely death not many months ago had affected Saffron deeply; she still wasn’t over it. She brushed the moisture from her eyes and headed for the en suite.
Memories were best left where they belonged—in the past. She stepped out of her nightie and into the shower; turning the tap on full force, she tossed her head back and let the reviving water wash over her.
The sensible thing to do was to pack in her job as soon as the boat docked and return to England. She would miss Anna, but common sense told her that the older woman would have no problem getting someone else to fill her role, and if she stayed she would have a problem with Alex Statis. He was a powerful, dangerous man, and he made no secret of the fact that he thought she was after something from his mother. It would be difficult; she had given up her room in the apartment she had shared with two others, Tom and Vera, and they had been quite happy to see her go as they had decided to marry, and quite naturally preferred to have the place to themselves. She supposed she could stay in a hotel or hostel until she found somewhere else, but it would certainly cut into her business fund, she realised sadly. Then she recalled once more Eve’s last message to her.
You have it all, Saffron—the looks, the character and the expertise to make it on your own. Not like me. I was born a loser. Promise me, Saffron, you won’t let some bastard of a man get at you. Stick to your dream. Start your own business, be your own boss. Do it for me. You show them.
Squaring her shoulders, a new light of determination in her lovely green eyes, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a large fluffy towel around her slender body, she walked back into the bedroom. She would not allow Mr Statis to frighten her out of her job. Anna had employed her. Anna was happy with the arrangement, and in any case once they got back to London she would not have to see the man. But her salary for the next few months would be enough to fulfil her dream. Ten minutes later, neatly dressed in navy shorts and a plain white T-shirt, she opened the door of Anna’s suite.
‘Oh, you’re awake!’ Saffron smiled at her employer, sitting propped up in bed, her glance going to the tray beside her. ‘And already at the coffee, I see,’ she chided gently; if Anna had one weakness it was that she drank far too much coffee.
‘Yes, my dear. I received the same service as you, apparently. Alex delivered it.’
Saffron felt the colour rise in her face. Anna certainly had not been attacked by the great brute as she had! Walking to the dressing-table, she busied herself with the case that contained her oils and other supplies. Trying to hide her blush, she said, ‘Would you like me to order breakfast or would you prefer a shower and massage?’
‘The massage, but make it quick. I have been instructed by Alex to meet him on the deck for breakfast at nine-thirty, and I don’t dare argue. I have already wasted three days of his time, he informed me.’
‘Wasted!’ Saffron’s temper rose at the comment. ‘Surely it’s his own fault? We were perfectly all right on the Pallas Corinthian. This was his idea.’ She flung out an arm, gesturing around the luxurious room.
‘Well, not exactly. I have a confession to make.’
Saffron spun round to stare at her charge.
‘You see, dear, we always cruise in June for a week or so. But with Alex being in Australia and not sure when he was coming back I decided I wanted to cruise on my own…well, with you. The poor boy arrived in London last weekend and didn’t know where I was and so he spent three days tracking us down, instead of working. Ordinarily I would have joined the yacht at the weekend along with Alex and the rest of the relatives.’
‘If that’s so, why are we moving now?’ Saffron glanced out of the window at the vast expanse of clear sunlit water. ‘We could have waited in port for the other guests and your son could have stayed at work.’
‘That’s my fault. I insisted we set sail straight away because I was frightened that with a couple of days in port you might change your mind and go back to England. I know what a pain my son can be, and I didn’t want to lose you. This way you can’t get off the boat and I’ve told Alex he has got to make friends with you.’
‘Why, you conniving lady,’ Saffron opined, with a wry shake of her red head.
‘Yes, but you know my secret. In any case no one can do my hair or make-up as well as you. Not even me when I was fit,’ Anna said with blunt honesty.
An hour later Saffron put the finishing touches to Anna’s hair and then followed her along the passageway down the companionway, through the staterooms and through large glass doors to the poop deck where Alex was waiting for them.
It had been dark last night when they had arrived, but Saffron had been awed by the luxury of the cabins, the elegant main lounge and equally stunning dining-room, but the deck was something else again. Under a plain white awning were arranged three plump-cushioned long sofas covered in William Morris shades of blue and green printed cotton satin, a couple of over-stuffed armchairs and one large low table plus a handful of smaller ones discreetly stacked beside one of the potted vine trees that dotted the area. Beyond the seating area, on the open deck, was a circular swimming-pool. Through the sparkling water Saffron saw the outline of dolphins patterned in the tiles; the effect was as if they were swimming in the pool and completely magical. Around the pool was scattered a dozen sun-loungers, and a few more tables
