At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? by Rachel Bailey

you’d be a perfect gentleman on this trip.” The kiss on the plane had already broken his rules, but she was positive he hadn’t planned that. This cruise however…
    â€œAnd I will be a gentleman.” He laid a hand over his heart, the picture of innocence. “This is only lunch. On what’s rumored to be the most spectacular harbor in the world.”
    The boat picked up speed a little and she leaned against the guardrail as she assessed his rugged features. “Nothing more?”
    He clenched his hands around the waist-height metal bar, leaning out into the wind, his shirt billowing, his closely cropped hair tousled. Then he looked back, and even through his sunglasses she could tell his eyes were full of the devil. “Unless you ask.”
    â€œI won’t,” she said with certainty. It wasn’t fair to give him mixed signals on this point.
    He shrugged. “Then nothing more.” He turned back to watch the water as it whipped past.
    They traveled for a couple of minutes in companionable silence, only broken when Ryder pointed out Clark Island, one of the green bumps of land he said he recognizedfrom watching Sydney Harbour on television. For a moment, Macy forgot about the undercurrents of their banter and was simply absorbed in sharing the beauty of her adopted country.
    The steward emerged and handed them each a glass of champagne before showing them to a mammoth platter of tropical fruits and cheeses on the shaded upper deck.
    Macy took her seat and eyed the mouthwatering choices, suddenly aware of how hungry she was. She took star fruit and an assortment of melon slices first, and as she sampled a sliver of honeydew melon, she realized Ryder was watching her. She stopped chewing and lowered the rest of the piece. “Is something wrong?”
    â€œI’m watching you eat.” He said the words innocently enough, but the heat in his eyes betrayed him.
    A shiver of awareness erupted across her skin and she placed the melon on the plate. “You said you’d be a gentleman.”
    â€œI am. Mostly.” He grinned and scooped a piece of honeydew from the platter for his own plate. “It’s hard not to watch when you’re enjoying your food so much. It’s compelling. Sensual.”
    She refused to blush. Instead, she arched an eyebrow. “A gentleman wouldn’t notice.”
    â€œA gentleman would have no blood in his veins not to notice your mouth and that fruit. But point taken.” Within two bites he’d devoured his slice of melon. “Tell me, have you been on the Harbour before?”
    Macy looked out across the blue, blue water. “No, I’ve never been to Sydney for more than a couple of days at a time.”
    â€œYou’ve always worked in Melbourne?” He cut several wedges of brie, placed them on wholegrain crackers and put them on her plate before making some for himself.
    She smiled her thanks and selected one as she spoke. “When I first moved to Australia, I studied for a business degree in Melbourne. Straight after I graduated, I took a six-month project in Brisbane.”
    â€œThat’s in the north?”
    She nodded. “The capital of Queensland.” It had been a great place to start her career—a city big enough to support large businesses, but small enough to make her mark. She’d had an apartment downtown that overlooked the botanical gardens, close to good eating places, and within walking distance to work. Just how she liked it.
    â€œThey have great beaches up there,” Ryder said.
    â€œSo I’ve heard.” Many of her colleagues had raved about their holidays on the coast either north or south of Brisbane. She took a bite of the creamy brie, then followed it with a sweet red grape.
    He sipped his champagne and watched her over the rim. “You didn’t see the beaches?”
    â€œI’d just graduated.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I