Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [127]
“I'm fine. It's you we've been worried about.” He pushed her away to look at her face. His hand brushed at her tear-stained cheek with a gesture of exasperation. “If you don't stop that crying, you'll drown us both.”
Jane chuckled huskily and wiped her eyes childishly with the back of her hand. “I'm sorry. I can't seem to stop. Stupid, isn't it?”
“Very,” he said succinctly, as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “Just the sort of thing that I would expect from an annoying brat like you.”
She smiled, thinking how handsome he looked in his navy-blue slacks and white sport coat.
“I'm all right now,” she assured him, wiping her eyes thoroughly. “I expect it was only the nightmare. Please go on to dinner.”
“My dear girl, dinner was three hours ago. I was just stopping by to check on you before I called it a night.” A startled glance at the bedside clock verified that it was after eleven. She had slept all day and half the evening! “Ahmet sends his regards and hopes that you'll be well enough to receive a call from him tomorrow.”
“Oh, I'll be back to work tomorrow,” Jane said, surprised. “I'm fine now.”
“So fine that you wake up screaming,” Jake said grimly, his eyes fixed on the delicacy of her heart-shaped face. “We'll see how you are in the morning.”
“It was only the nightmares,” she insisted, her eyes darkening with strain. “I keep having the same dream over and over.” She shivered uncontrollably.
“I can guess what about,” he said slowly. “An experience like that may give you nightmares for some time to come.”
Jane swallowed anxiously at the thought of facing that horror every time she fell asleep. “I suppose so,” she replied nervously, moistening her lips. “Well, I'll just have to contend with them, won't I?” She smiled shakily.
“The hell you will!” Jake said abruptly, his dark eyes flaming. “I'm not about to let you shake yourself to pieces in this clothes closet of a cabin.”
“It's quite a nice cabin,” she said defensively, looking up at him in bewilderment.
“Jane, for God's sake, don't argue with me. I do not intend to spend the rest of the night in this cracker box holding your hand, after already spending the best part of the day here. There's just not enough room!” He stooped and picked her up in his arms, blanket and all, and strode swiftly from the cabin.
She looked up into his grim face and asked quietly. “I hate to be overly curious, but may I ask where you're taking me?”
“Why, to my bed, of course.” She stiffened in surprise, and he mistook her response for resistance. “Don't fight me, Jane. I'm not leaving you alone tonight. You can battle your own dragons some other night, when you're more fit.” His mouth twisted cynically. “You can't claim that one night in my bed will ruin your reputation, when everyone on the ship assumes you're already very familiar with it.”
When she merely continued to look at him with wide eyes, he went on aggressively. “Damn it, I'm not about to rape you, redhead, I just want to take care of you.” His mouth twisted wryly, as he added, “In a bed where I won't develop a displaced sacroiliac.”
She didn't answer, but her arms tightened around him nervously as he opened the door to his cabin and marched across the room to the king-sized bed and deposited her on the black velvet spread. He stepped back to look down at her still figure with wary dark eyes.
“What, no arguments?” he asked, arching an eyebrow inquiringly. “I expected you to fight me tooth and nail. You must be in worse shape than I thought.”
She looked up at him serenely, her hair a brilliant flame on the black spread. “Why should I fight you?” she asked quietly. “You're quite right. I don't have any reputation to lose and I don't want to be alone tonight.”
The wariness was still in his eyes. “That's very