on him before he finished the sentence and was about to deliver the right hook he'd perfected in the outback when a purser entered the office and pulled him off the younger man.
"What the hell's your problem?" Ian barked, rubbing his throat where Jake had grabbed him.
Jake glowered at him. "Say another word about her and, so help me, I'll--"
"I get the message," said Ian, "but the question is, why?" He forced a nervous grin. "Don't tell me you staked your claim already."
"None of your goddamn business."
"What's the deal, Lockwood--we got a conflict of interest case building here?"
"Just stay away from her, that's all. She's not your type."
Macmillan laughed, then rubbed his jaw again. "I haven't met one yet who isn't."
"Congratulations," Jake said, putting a sarcastic spin to the word. "Then this one's a first."
"I don't take orders from you, Lockwood. We're partners, remember?"
Jake knew he'd gone overboard but the feelings Megan had roused in him refused to be quieted. The thought of another man putting his hands on her made him want to punch first and ask questions later. Primitive, maybe, but effective.
"I'm wound pretty tight these days," he said by way of apology. "The Sea Goddess is the only woman in my life."
"You gotta get out more, Lockwood," said Ian with a relieved laugh. "I know a sweet little blonde who--"
Jake was no longer listening. He'd come close to screwing up royally and the near-miss rocked him.
The thing was, he wasn't supposed to feel this way. He'd expected to want her. Desire had been a major force in their relationship and there'd been no reason to imagine its power wouldn't make itself known again.
He knew how to handle those chemical urges, how to enjoy sex but avoid involvement. What he hadn't been prepared for were these other emotions, equally strong, that were tangled up in his desire for Megan.
Anger, for one, and regret. Both of which were understandable considering the way the marriage had ended. So much left unsaid between them. So many dreams destroyed. What surprised him was the irrational sense of hope that had flared to life in the darkness.
Another man might call it love. Jake called it ridiculous.
Only one woman had ever managed to breathe life into all the hidden recesses of his soul and he'd managed to drive her away with his selfish pursuit of his own goals. Love was a thing of the past, an artifact like an arrowhead or an old tombstone.
What he was dealing with now was lust, pure and simple. Despite everything, he'd never quite gotten her out of his system and, he expected, she felt the same attraction to him.
And there was only one way to deal with it.
They needed to come together in a blaze of heat and desire, and burn away the last vestiges of their marriage. He had to find out that she was only a woman and not the elusive goddess time and fantasy had transformed her into.
Ignoring Ian's curious look, he excused himself then left the office.
"Damn it to hell," he swore as he made his way toward the dining room. He didn't want a second chance. He only wanted to put finish to whatever mysterious force it was that still tied him to her.
Why else would he be feeling guilty, pretending to be one of the crew? The idea had been for the partners in Tropicale to blend in with the other passengers, so they could hear first-hand what the passengers thought of the cruise. A clever idea and one that was extremely workable, given the more intimate size of the Sea Goddess when compared to a traditional cruise ship.
Yeah, it was a great idea--or, at least, it had been until he'd found himself looking into Megan's eyes and everything they'd had and lost came rushing back in on him like the tide....
#
He hadn't wanted to marry.
Only a fool would tie himself down with a wife and family when the future beckoned, all promise and glitter. He liked his freedom. He liked taking what he wanted from life, caution be damned.
Yet from that first moment on the beach when she'd looked up at him with those lazy green eyes and turned his soul to flame, he had known there were some things you didn't do with a girl like Megan McLean.
She'd been sweet in his arms and yielding, and he had little doubt he would have been able to part those shapely thighs of hers and bury himself inside her willing body.
But, damn