The Omaja Stone Page 31
“Well, muchacha, you had better get around to it soon because I am very much looking forward to getting to bed before dawn.” He was unable to mask the weariness in his voice.
She picked up the bandage, wrapping his arm as she spoke. “I am so deeply sorry, Captain, that I thoughtlessly insulted you. I did not mean what I said. How could I think you a bas—anything less than brave and honorable, when you have done nothing but save my life, twice now, at unselfish risk of your own life, provisions, peace of mind—”
“Hold it right there, Jolie,” he interrupted. “Don’t pin a medal on me, all right? I am not up for it tonight.” He watched her hands work for a moment. “And I wish you would stop calling me Captain.”
“But you told me to.”
“I know, but I’ve changed my mind. We are living in extremely close quarters; we’ve learned intimate details about each other’s pasts, and we’ve shared two near-death experiences—make that three since we were about to kill one another here in the cabin just hours ago. Are we not close enough”—in more ways than one, he thought wryly, as her silky hair draped his forearm and pooled on his thigh—“for you to call me Gabriel?”
Jolie smoothed the bandage carefully around his arm. “I can’t say it like you do.”
“Of course you can. Repeat: Gabriel.” That came out huskier than he’d intended.
She glanced at his face and imitated his pronunciation. “Ah…Gabriel?”
“Perfect.”
She smiled, finished tucking the bandage, and sat back on her heels.
Holding the pillow over his erection, he moved to slide under the blankets on the cot, then stuffed the pillow behind his head. Jolie didn’t move from her position on the floor beside him; she knelt there staring at him, apparently with something else she wanted to say on her mind. He sighed, waiting.
“Sleep in the bunk tonight,” she said softly.
Marcano blinked in surprise. Surely he had heard wrong. It took him a moment to find his voice. “Are you asking me to—”
“Yes,” she begged in a rush, grasping his arm. “I really want you to. You look quite uncomfortable.”
Was his discomfort that evident? He glanced down at himself through the blankets. Hearing her begging him to join her in the bunk sent intense shivers straight to his groin. He searched her lovely face in the dim light. Her eyes were beseeching pools of invitation. “Jolie, are you certain?”
“Oh, yes, Gabriel, completely certain. I need you to do this.”
She needed this? Her bold honesty jolted him. He raised up to prop himself on one elbow, feeling a new energy seep into his bones. “But are you too tired?”
“Not at all. I know I would sleep even better. Please.”
She wanted him so much, she was begging! Elated, he sat all the way up, allowing the blankets to fall to his waist. Get a grip, Gabriel. You look far too eager. “Jolie, I did not expect this from you tonight,” he murmured silkily, gazing down at her hopeful face.
“I know you didn’t, but I’ve been miserable. I know you think I shouldn’t because Velez says I need to rest better, but I feel fine, really I do.”
“You’ve been...miserable?” he breathed. He didn’t know how he would manage it, but if the rigid state of his erection was any indication, he would make personal history: defeat a pirate sloop in battle, prevent two determined freebooters from taking over his ship in hand-to-hand combat, and make love to an eager young woman all in one night. And to think she’d been as miserable as he!
“Yes, of course I was miserable, thinking about how big you are, over here on this cot…”
“How big—?” He could hardly believe his ears.
“Now go on over there to the bunk—I won’t look until you are under the covers,” she said in that seductive British accent of hers, standing up to turn her back.
Shy minx! His gaze raked over the sheath of hair swinging down her back, over her slender form in the nightshirt. The shapeless garment revealed nothing of her body’s curving beauty, but oh, how well he remembered it from peeping in on her sponge bath the day before. His groin throbbed insistently against the weight of the blanket and he threw the covers back, glad she wasn’t watching him make his way, a bit awkwardly, to the bunk. He almost let out a whoop of joy as he slipped beneath the heather-and-rose-scented sheets of his bed. He adjusted the blankets over his legs up to his waist, turned to face her, and propped up on one elbow, pasting an inviting smile on his face.
But she had disappeared. His eyes scanned the darkness and located her in the cot that he’d just vacated, twisting and snuggling beneath the blankets.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to switch beds, Gabriel. Ooh, you’ve got it all warmed up for me!” she crooned happily from across the cabin.
He stared at her bundled form, slack-jawed, then swore under his breath. Sí, it’s all warmed up for you, all right. He turned over to fluff the pillows in frustration.
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