Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [100]
One by one, with seeming casualness, they wandered by the area where she was working. And always they brought gifts, ranging from a drink from a thermos of coffee, to the presentation of a panama hat to shade her from the sun and a pair of rubber gloves to relieve her chapped and reddened hands. Though the gifts were invaluable in themselves, it was the sympathy behind them that gave her the strength to complete that second agonizing day.
Her time with Jake Dominic in the evenings became a priceless oasis in the desert of those next few days. No matter how excruciatingly tired she was at the end of the day, she had only to open the door of the lounge and see Jake look up with that mocking smile to feel a rush of new vitality. It was inexpressibly soothing to sit over the chessboard and watch the wary flickering behind those ebony eyes as she presented him with an unexpected challenge, or to listen to his amusing stories of life on the set as they sat over coffee. Jake Dominic continued to treat her with the affectionate indulgence that he might show a precocious niece, and this arrangement met with her entire satisfaction. She was fully aware that in any other role, he would be a highly dangerous commodity. She doubted her ability to handle any encounter with the much-publicized rake of the tabloids. She much preferred the Jake Dominic who teased her about her cat eyes, trounced her soundly at chess, and let her leave him at the end of the evening with no more than a casual wave of his hand.
But by the fourth day not even the anticipation of the evening to come could dull the sheer agony Jane was experiencing. She'd borrowed two elastic bandages from Simon to bind her knees, which were now swollen twice their normal size and were a livid purple. The bandage provided a little protection, but as the day progressed she began to feel a trifle nauseous from the pain. She did not bother to go to lunch that day. She merely crawled to the rail and sat leaning against it, her eyes shut against the glaring noonday sun. She gently massaged her left kneecap, which for some reason appeared to be in worse condition than the other. She really must eat dinner, she thought wearily. She'd need all the strength she could muster to get through tomorrow.
But by evening it didn't seem to be worth the effort to make her way to the mess. After a quick shower, she rebandaged her knees and lay down on her bunk to nap for the two hours' respite before she had to report to the lounge. Luckily she took the precaution of setting the alarm on her clock, for when she collapsed on the bed she fell into an exhausted sleep.
The alarm woke her with its strident ring, and for a moment Jane was tempted to shut it off and roll over and go back to sleep. Then she sat up and began to dress in the oversized khaki trousers that she had worn that first evening. She grabbed her own black turtleneck sweater, which she'd washed out by hand the night before, and slipped it on. She went into the bathroom to run a comb through her hair, and her reflection in the mirror over the sink sent a shiver of distaste through her. She looked like a sick cat, she thought gloomily. She spent the next few minutes massaging her pale cheeks with the rough terry towel to restore the color to them.
When she opened the door to the lounge ten minutes later, she drew a deep breath and fixed a bright smile on her face before she strolled forward, making a conscious effort not to hobble.
Jake Dominic was sitting at the bar, a glass of bourbon in his hand and an impatient frown on his lean dark face. Tonight he was wearing faded jeans that hung low on his hips and hugged the muscular line of his thighs with loving detail. His navy cotton shirt was left carelessly unbuttoned almost to the waist, and Jane's eyes were drawn in fascination to the triangle of dark wiry hair on his powerfully muscled chest.
Jane had a fleeting memory of the rough virile feel of that hair against her fingertips. She felt a sudden warmth in her cheeks, and she looked away hurriedly.