Stormy Vows/Tempest at Sea (28 page)

Jane drew a quivering breath of relief. “I don't suppose you'll let me work off my debt now,” she said uncertainly. “I can understand if you want to turn me over to the police. It was a terrible thing to do.”

“You're damn right it was terrible,” he said harshly. “It was also stupid, irresponsible, and dangerous. You should have your
head examined to have become mixed up with a bunch of idiots who would perpetrate something like this. You obviously need a keeper!”

Benjamin's voice sounded from behind Jane. “Shall I ready the launch?”

Dominic's eyes flared angrily. “Hell, no,” he said. “Why should I let a group of crackpots do me out of my personal slave? She goes with us. Now, get her out of here before I change my mind.” He turned away and gazed out the porthole, his back taut and angry. “We'd better get underway at once and not wait until tomorrow. Someone's bound to have seen that explosion, and we don't want to answer questions from the Coast Guard.”

“Right,” Benjamin said laconically. He opened the door and, taking Jane by the arm, pushed the dazed girl ahead of him into the hall. Before he shut the door he spoke dryly to Dominic's expressively furious back. “I'll have to agree with you, Jake. She's certainly not boring.”

Jane was pleasantly surprised by the interior of the cabin she was shown to on one of the upper decks. Though small and compact and obviously meant for crew instead of guest occupancy, it contained a narrow single bed covered with a bold gold-and-cream plaid spread, and a built-in Danish-modern night table was beside it. The floor was covered with an attractive beige carpet. There was a small matching chest of drawers to the right of the door, and the walls were paneled in the same rich walnut as the master suite.

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, stepped out of the stall, and reached for the fluffy white bath towel on the rack over the commode. Her grandfather would have been horrified at her present dilemma, she thought ruefully, patting herself dry. But the situation wasn't all that bad, when she thought about it. She would no doubt have to work extremely hard in the next two months, but she was used to that after her years with her grandfather. She
would just take one day at a time, and soon her sentence on the
Sea Breeze
would be over.

Jane tossed the towel aside and, picking up the clothes she'd discarded, hung them up neatly in the tiny built-in closet. She was glad the jeans and sweater were sturdy and easily cared for, as were the briefs and bra. There was no telling when she would be able to scrounge a change of clothes on board.

She flipped out the light and slipped between the sheets, shivering as the crisp, cool material touched her bare skin. She plumped the pillow vigorously and nestled her fiery head in its softness with a sigh of content. The last thing she was conscious of was the low throb of the engines as the yacht put out to sea.

three

THE NEXT MORNING PROMPTLY AT SIX CAPTAIN
Benjamin showed Jane a stretch of deck that appeared to extend into infinity. He then handed her a bucket of water, soap, and a scrub brush, and said silkily, “I won't waste your time on needless instructions. I know how eager you must be to get started on your new duties. Just carry on until you're told to stop. You did say that you'd be willing to do anything, Miss Smith.”

Jane made a face at his straight, uniformed back as he strolled briskly away.

Four hours later she wished her defiance had taken a more tangible form. Very tangible. Like a swift blow with a sledgehammer on that distinguished, gray-streaked head. Jane dipped her scrub brush into the bucket of dirty water, then leaned forward on her hands and knees to vigorously scrub the wooden deck. She felt as if she must have prayed herself around the entire circumference of the blasted ship by this time. She brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead for the hundredth time, leaving still another smudge on her face. Though the denim material of her jeans was quite tough, it didn't offer sufficient protection for her knees. She was dreaming longingly of a lovely pair of thick athletic knee pads when a deep voice spoke over her head.

“So you're our big bad terrorist?” it drawled teasingly.

Jane looked up to see two long legs clad in sparkling white polyester standing directly in front of her. She sat back on her heels to regard balefully the vigorous young male torso and handsome face connected to those legs. Her tormentor was in his early twenties, dressed in the pristine freshness of white slacks and the beige waist-length jacket of a steward. His crisp blond hair and tanned features added to the impression of wholesomeness. The original Mr. Clean, Jane thought sourly, brushing a curl away from her perspiring forehead.

He squatted before her and looked with such frank, good-humored curiosity into her face that she was forced to admit grudgingly that there had probably been no malice in the remark. The clear blue eyes and sunny smile reflected only a gentle camaraderie.

Jane rubbed the small of her back wearily. “Aren't you afraid of being contaminated?” she asked dryly. “You're the first crew member except Captain Benjamin who has spoken to me this morning.”

“It's not the men's fault,” he said defensively, “The old man has passed the word that there's to be no fraternization.”

“Then why are you disobeying the orders?” she asked, “Aren't you afraid of the captain, too?”

“Yep.” He grinned amiably. “But I figure that I'm safe for the next thirty minutes or so. I just took the captain his lunch.” He offered a large brown hand. “I'm Simon Dominic. Did you really plant a bomb in Jake's cabin?”

“Jane Smith.” She started to put her small hand in his; then, noticing the dirt and soap on it, she withdrew it hastily. “Sorry,” she muttered with a grimace, “I'm not very presentable. Yes, I did plant a bomb in Mr. Dominic's suite, but it was purely accidental.”

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.”