quasi-feminine love of gossip, to which Samantha listened avidly, making
an occasional exclamation of surprise.
His wife ran away with another man, she could be out of her mind, don't
you think? Dearie, a change is like two weeks at the seaside. Or asking
a question. He owns this ship, actually owns it? Not just Master? I
He owns this ship, and its sister, and the company. They used to call
him the Golden Prince. He's a high flyer, dearie, didn't you recognize
it? I didn't Of course you did. You're too much woman not to.
There is no more powerful aphrodisiac than success and power, nothing
like the clink of gold to get a girl's hormones revving up, is there?
That's unfair, Angel. I didn't know a thing about him. I didn't know
he was rich and famous. I don't give a damn for money Ho!
Ho? Angel shook his curls and the diamond studs flashed in his ears.
But he saw her anger flare again. All right, dearie, I'm teasing. But
what really attracts you is his strength and air of purpose. The way
other men obey, and follow and fear him. The air of command, of power
and with it, success. I didn't knOw, be honest with yourself, love. It
was not the fact he saved your life, it wasn't his beautiful eyes nor
the lump in his jeans You're crude, Angel.
You're bright and beautiful, and you just can't help yourself. You're
like a nubile little gazelle, all skittish and ready, and you have just
spotted the herd bull. You can't help yourself, dearie, you're just a
woman., What am I going to do, Angel? We'll make a plan, love, but one
thing is certain, you're not going to trail around behind him, dressed
like an escapee from a junk shop, breathing adoration and heroworship.
He's doing a job. He doesn't need to trip over you every time he turns.
Play hard to get. Samantha thought about it for a moment. Angel, I
don't want to play it that hard that I never get around to being got -
if you follow me. Beauty Baker had the work in hand, well organized and
going ahead as fast as even Nick, in his overwhelming impatience, could
expect.
The alternator had been manhandled through the double doors into the
superstructure on B deck, and it had been secured against a steel
bulkhead and lashed down.
As soon as I have power, we'll drill the deck and bolt her down/he
explained to Nick.
Have you got the lines in? I'll by-pass the main junction box on C
deck, and I will select from the temporary box But you've identified the
fore-dec winch circuit, and the pumps? Jesus, sport, why don't you go
sail your little boat and leave me to do my work? on the upper deck one
of Baker's gangs was already at work with the gas welding equipment.
They were opening access to the ventilation shaft of the main engine
room.
The gas cutter hissed viciously and red sparks showered from the steel
plate of the tall dummy smoke stack. The stack was merely to give the
Golden Adventurer the traditional rakish lines, and now the welder cut
the last few inches of steel plating. It fell away into the deep, dark
cavern, leaving a roughly square opening six feet by six feet which gave
direct access into the half-flooded engine room fifty feet below.
Despite Baker's advice, Nick took command here, directing the rigging of
