Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [110]
Her eyes filled with tears. “I had to do it,” she repeated huskily.
“Do you know that you almost got yourself killed back there?” Jake asked through clenched teeth.
“Leave her alone, Jake,” Marc said with rough kindness. “She's had enough for one night.”
“I could break her neck,” Jake said savagely, his gaze taking in her bruised and bleeding lip and her left eye, which was darkening rapidly. “Just look at her, damn it.”
Jane shrank back against the solid shoulder of the captain. When she spoke, her lips trembled pitifully. “I'm sorry,” she apologized miserably. “I didn't mean to cause any trouble.”
“You are trouble,” Jake said tersely as the taxi pulled up at the dock where the launch waited.
He jumped out of the taxi and half assisted, half jerked Jane out of the car. He reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills, which he handed to the driver with a curt “Gracias.” The taxi driver's glower turned to a broad smile as he saw the size of the bills. He touched the brim of his wide straw hat in a respectful salute and drove off with a triumphant roar.
Meanwhile, Marc Benjamin had exited from the other door and had lithely jumped down into the launch and started the motor.
As Jake lifted Jane into the boat, the captain asked, above the low throb of the engine. “You're not going to let her take that cock on the Sea Breeze, surely?”
“What the hell do you suggest we do with it?” Jake asked bitterly. “Toss it into the sea? Jane would probably dive in after it.”
“We could always give it to your chef and see what he could do with it,” Marc drawled wryly. “It would certainly be a challenge to his expertise.”
“No!” Jane cried, shocked. “You wouldn't.” Her arms tightened protectively around the rooster.
“Of course we wouldn't,” Jake said disgustedly. “He's joking, for heaven's sake.” He turned to Benjamin. “Get us back to the Sea Breeze, Marc, or, so help me, I may toss them both into the sea!”
When they arrived back at the yacht, they were assisted aboard by a surprised and curious young seaman who tried not to stare too obviously at the disreputable-looking trio. Both Jake and Marc showed the signs of the violent free-for-all they'd been engaged in. Jake sported a bruise on his cheekbone that was rapidly turning a livid purple, and Benjamin's usually immaculate uniform jacket was torn raggedly from the lapel to the shoulder seam.
Jake carefully took the cock from Jane's arms and handed it to the seaman. “Be careful of the spurs,” he cautioned, ignoring the man's dumbfounded expression. “Take him down to the storeroom and give him feed and water.”
“I'll do it,” Jane offered. “He's my responsibility.”
“The hell you will,” Jake said annoyedly. “You're coming down to my cabin so that I can have a look at those bruises. Coming, Marc?”
Marc Benjamin shook his head ruefully. “I'd better go to my own cabin and make some repairs. I'll be along later.”
Jake nodded briefly and, taking Jane by the elbow, propelled her ahead of him, leaving the seaman to look after them, wondering blankly what the devil one fed a fighting cock.
Jake opened the door of his cabin and pushed her ahead of him into the room, flipping on the lights as he did so. Jane looked around her with interest. The night of her intrusion, she'd had no opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the master cabin. The thick carpet, she noted, was a silver gray, as were the shades on the bedside lamps. The spread that graced the king-sized bed was black velvet. The simple, elegant decor was oddly ascetic, considering its owner's worldliness. The only glaring note in the understated richness of the cabin was her own graffiti scribbled on the wall across from the bed.
Jane winced. “Can't you cover that up until you can have the panel replaced?” she asked.
Jake followed her glance and shrugged. “Marc offered to have his men make some temporary repairs, but I told him to leave it alone. I'm learning to live with it.”
He strode into the bathroom, pulling her along with him. Once there, he lifted