Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [92]
Benjamin gestured to the door at the foot of the bed. “Shower,” he said briefly. He turned away saying. “You'd better get some sleep. Your work day aboard the Sea Breeze will start from tomorrow on at 6:00 A.M.”
“Captain?”
He turned back, his gray eyes inquiring.
“Are we really going to leave right away?” Jane asked hesitantly.
Benjamin nodded. “You heard Dominic. I'm not accustomed to disregarding my employer's orders, Miss Smith.”
“No, of course you're not,” she said absently, her golden eyes clouded with worry. “It's just that if I don't let my roommate know that I'm safe, she'll be absolutely frantic. Would it be possible for you to get a message to her before we set sail?”
“It might be arranged,” he replied expressionlessly. “If you'll write down the phone number, I'll see what I can do.”
“Thank you. I'd be very grateful,” she said, accepting the pen and paper he extracted from his jacket pocket. She wrote Penny's name and their dormitory phone number on the paper, and continued, “It's a phone in the hall at the dormitory. If Penny's not at home, give any of the girls the message.”
“And what message is that?” Benjamin asked dryly.
“Just that I had to go out of town for a few months, and that I'll write her as soon as I have the opportunity.”
“Very discreet,” he observed laconically. “I'll see that she's told, Miss Smith. Good night.” The cabin door closed quietly behind him.
Jane looked longingly at the bed before turning away resolutely and striding briskly to the tiny shower cubicle Benjamin had indicated. She felt positively grimy from the perspiration and dirt resulting from the evening's strenuous activities. She would not climb between the sheets of that pristine single bed until she, too, was fresh and clean. Besides, she thought grimly as she stripped off her clothes and stepped beneath the spray of hot water, if she was to be summoned to work in just a few hours, it was quite doubtful that the stern, crisp captain would tolerate being kept waiting while she showered.
The fountain of warm water was deliciously soothing as it poured over her stiff muscles, releasing the coiled tension, which she had not even been aware of. The evening had really tied her in knots—and no wonder, she thought ruefully. In all her life she'd never lived through such a wild, madcap sequence of events.
Not that her life had ever been tame, she acknowledged wryly. Her grandfather had sworn that she attracted trouble like honey attracted bees, and she couldn't deny the charge. She had never tried to cause her grandfather problems, but she knew from the moment she came to live with him that his precise, well-ordered existence had altered irreversibly. It was her impulsiveness that had caused most of the problems, she thought gloomily. No matter how many times her grandfather had told her to think twice before she plunged into action, she could not live with the maxim. Perhaps her grandfather's life would have been more serene if his work as a colonel in the Army Corps of Engineers hadn't taken them to the four corners of the earth. There certainly had been more scope for mischief in the more primitive parts of the world, where she'd spent a good many of her formative years.
It had been even more difficult for her grandfather to understand his volatile young charge because he himself was not a warm or affectionate man, nor the least bit impulsive. Jane shook her head in self-reproach at the familiar pang, remembering the hurt and bewilderment she'd felt as a child when her advances had been met with such chilling formality. All that was in the past now. When her grandfather had died of a stroke eighteen months ago, she'd sworn never to indulge in maudlin self-pity.
She turned off the shower,