Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [94]
Simon Dominic whistled soundlessly, his blue eyes twinkling. “How intriguing. I can't wait to hear how you managed to plant a bomb accidentally.”
Jane shook her head, smiling reluctantly. “It's a long story.”
“And one you're not about to confide,” he guessed.
“Not at the moment,” she agreed, grinning. “Dominic? Are you related to Jake Dominic?”
“Very distantly,” he confessed wryly. “Cousin Jake is about four times removed in blood and about forty million dollars removed in substance. He doesn't object to a bit of nepotism in the company, fortunately. My father is a vice-president of Dominic Shipping, and I'll be allowed to climb the corporate ladder myself as soon as I've put in my training period.” He frowned in puzzlement. “Why aren't you using the electric scrubber? I'd think it would be far easier on your knees.”
Jane's eyes darkened ominously. “The Sea Breeze has an electric scrubber?” she asked carefully.
“Several.” Simon Dominic nodded. “Would you like me to get one for you?”
Jane drew a deep breath, trying to control the anger that surged through her. Benjamin had given her the brush and bucket with no mention of the machine that could have made her task a hundred times easier. Damn him!
She was tempted to agree at once to Simon's suggestion. She doubted if Benjamin would push the matter once she'd switched tools. She opened her lips to ask Simon to bring the machine and then closed them again, her eyes thoughtful. According to Benjamin's reasoning, his action in making her work as difficult as possible was entirely justified. Benjamin's code required that she accept her punishment and earn her place as a member of the crew. Jane could understand and respect his philosophy. She had no doubt that her grandfather, given the same circumstances, would have reacted in the same way. It was going to be a long two months, and an aching back and sore knees might be a small price to pay to earn the captain's respect.
“No,” she said slowly, “that won't be necessary.”
Simon Dominic shrugged. “Whatever you say,” he agreed, rising to his feet. “Tell me, are terrorists permitted lunch, or are you only allowed bread and water?”
Jane smiled as she dipped her brush in the water. “I assume that I'll be eating all my meals with the crew from now on,” she answered dryly. “The captain made it quite clear that I'm to have no special privileges.”
“In that case, I'll brave his wrath and ask him if I can show you where the mess is located.”
“Thanks, I'd appreciate that,” Jane said warmly. She was going to like Simon Dominic.
With a blithe salute, the immaculate figure turned and walked back toward the bridge.
True to his word, Simon Dominic returned in an hour, and after accompanying her to her cabin, where she washed hurriedly and ran a comb through her hair, he escorted her to the crew's mess.
The mess was actually a large common room with a number of tables of varying size and a cafeteria-style serving area. The room was obviously used as a recreation area as well, she noted. There was a yellow-and-black dart board fixed on one wall, and one large table with leaves that could be opened to convert it into a Ping-Pong table.
Jane followed Simon through the serving line, conscious of the lull in conversation as she followed him to a small table, unloaded her tray, and sat down opposite him.
“I feel like Lady Godiva,” she whispered as she poured dressing on the crisp garden salad.
“We should be so lucky,” Simon joked, his blue eyes dancing. “They'll get used to you. We're not used to females on board ship, and you must admit your manner of signing on was a bit unusual.”
“I certainly wouldn't recommend it,” Jane answered, smiling. She took a bite of her salad and shook her head in amazement. “This dressing is absolutely fantastic. I imagine Captain Benjamin has no problem keeping his crew if the food is always this terrific.”
Simon lifted his brows wryly. “The chow isn't always this good,” he admitted. “Jake Dominic brings his own chef on these cruises, and he takes