Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [121]
Though his absence relieved Jane from the strain of acting the adoring paramour Jake had described, their meetings were still charged with the same burning restlessness that had characterized their association before Kahlid's arrival.
Jane looked back wistfully at those first uncomplicated evenings they had spent in the lounge, bent in amiable conflict over the chessboard. Now it seemed that everything she said to Jake was wrong. She seemed to have a talent for setting off that famous mercurial temperament without the least effort, and her own temper responded like a brushfire in a strong wind.
She had reluctantly come to the conclusion that Jake Dominic was entirely correct in his assessment of Kahlid's attitude toward her and the necessity for their charade. Though Ahmet was perfectly charming to her in their brief encounters when she acted as steward, a few times she had noticed an appraising glance that was totally foreign to the innocent teddy-bear image. Once, when he joined them for a swim, his frank approval of her in the tiny bikini verged on pure lechery.
It had struck her as positively ludicrous that a girl of her quite ordinary appearance should provoke passion in the breast of the sheikh, and she had tried to make Jake see how funny it was. She had finally faltered and fallen silent before the stormy anger in Jake's face. It appeared that she had blundered again, she thought morosely. It seemed everything she did these days was wrong.
During one of her periods of depression, she had asked Jake if it might not be safe now to stop their morning rendezvous, since Kahlid had ceased his visits with them. The answer she received was rude, explicit, and ended with Jake's telling her icily that he would decide when they would call a halt to their meetings, and would she please refrain from making stupid suggestions.
After this savage, unprovoked attack she did, indeed, refrain from making any suggestions at all, as well as much conversation. Their time together, before she could escape to the less demanding duties required by Brockmeyer, rapidly became a painful chore.
Jane had even taken to arriving on deck a few minutes early and diving into the sea before Jake Dominic arrived, so that she could have a few minutes by herself in the silken serenity of the cobalt water. She desperately needed that time alone before she faced the tension that his presence aroused.
Marc Benjamin was at the rail, staring absently at the swimmer whose slick red head bobbed in and out of the waves as she cleaved through the water with smooth, economical strokes, when Jake Dominic appeared on deck one morning. The captain had formed the habit of occasionally dropping by to have a cup of coffee and chat with the two of them before he went about his duties. He turned at the sound of the other man's footsteps and appraised the bronze, muscular figure in black swim trunks, a white terry-cloth robe slung carelessly over one shoulder. Marc Benjamin's calm eyes drifted up to Dominic's face, and he saw there the tense, restless frown he wore constantly of late.
“She's really very good,” Benjamin commented casually, nodding toward the figure in the water.
Jake gave Jane a cursory glance before throwing his robe on the deck chair and turning to the captain. “A veritable water baby,” he said caustically. “She tells me she learned to swim in Tahiti. One wonders how the island survived.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, Benjamin continued to stare at Jane's distant figure. “It's strange that a girl who has knocked around the world as much as she has still retains that almost crystal simplicity.”
Dominic did not reply, but his dark eyes turned to gaze at Jane's red, seallike head, his face taut. Benjamin glanced keenly at that face before asking softly, “Why don't you let her go, Jake? You're making her miserable.”
Dominic's head