She laid a dramatic hand across her forehead. “For a minute there I thought you might put your poor disabled boat out of its misery, or use it on yourself in a moment of desperation.”
“You thought wrong.” He angled toward her and studied her long and hard. “What you did a minute ago, chasing after me knowing I was armed, wasn’t a very smart thing to do. For all you knew, I could’ve meant to harm you.”
“You could’ve done that by not saving me earlier, but you rescued me anyway. So I figured you wouldn’t murder me, even if you did massacre Bessie.”
“Bessie?”
“My balloon. And that wasn’t too smart, either.”
“It’s an inanimate object, Dorothy.”
“An inanimate object with propane tanks, Ahab. You could’ve blown us back to Kansas.”
He hinted at a smile, but it didn’t form all the way. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
“And I wasn’t exactly thinking when I rushed at you knowing you had the gun. I only knew I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
He took a step closer. “Why?”
A weird question. “Because everyone deserves to live, even if they are a bit cranky.”
He took one more step. “Cranky?”
She couldn’t exactly back up without being obvious, and for some reason she didn’t really want to. “Yeah. Cranky. Not that you don’t have a reason to be a bit put out.” She studied her bare feet, unable to look at him directly, not with him so close that she could count the whiskers on his chin and the character lines around his assessing eyes. “I’m sorry. Really I am. I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me and Hank.”
“Hank?”
She raised her gaze to his and smiled. “My baby.”
He looked as though she’d announced she intended to birth a skunk. “You call your baby Hank? For God’s sake, why?”
“My father’s name was Hank. He died almost two years ago. I’ve never known a stronger, kinder man.”
Lizzie saw a glimpse of guilt in Jack’s eyes before his gaze dropped to her belly. “Then you know it’s a boy?”
“No. I only confirmed the pregnancy this morning, so it’s too soon to tell.” And what a way to celebrate the news, stranded with a sullen sailor. “But I hope it’s a boy. Not that I don’t like girls. I’ve just always gotten along better with men.”
His features mellowed, from staid to a tad less stoic. “That’s good to know considering I’m a man, and you’re a woman, and we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. In very close quarters.”
Had that really sounded like a sexy, sinful guarantee? No way, Lizzie thought. No how. Not her and him. “Then we’re really—”
“Stuck. Together.” A slight smile surfaced. “You and me, babe. Until someone happens to come along.”
First princess, now babe. He had a lot to learn about her dislikes, and she was more than willing to teach him. “I am not a babe, and doesn’t anyone know where you are?”
Any inkling of a smile disappeared from his face. “I haven’t talked to anyone for a year, except for a few people in port, and now you.”
A year? Had he been without a woman for a year? The prospect that her virtue might be in peril momentarily crossed Lizzie’s mind, and yes, somewhat excited her, but he really didn’t seem to be in an amorous mood. Except for his proximity. Except for his eyes. He kept looking at her in a way that made her flesh threaten to crawl up her neck and over her head, pleasantly so. In fact, just thinking about him making love to her doused her whole body in slow, scrumptious heat. How goofy to even consider that. Obviously she had been visited by the hormone fairies.
Lizzie snapped her thoughts back on the situation at hand. “I’m sure Walker will send someone out to look for me.”
Finally, he put some distance between them. Now Lizzie could breathe normally instead of pant.
“Who is Walker? Your car?”
“Ha, ha. The head of the chase crew.”
He looked hopeful. “And he saw you drifting?”
“As far as I know, he did. When I came awake, I tried to contact him but I couldn’t pick anything up on my radio. That leads me to believe I drifted farther off course than I’d realized.”
“You have a radio?”
“I did. It’s kind of submersed at the moment.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to rely on your good fortune.”
“Or yours.”
He looked altogether too serious, and almost sorrowful. “Apparently my good fortune ran out a while ago.”
Lizzie didn’t dare ask what life-altering event had driven him onto his boat, by himself, for months, away from all humanity. She’d already done enough damage for one day; no need to rock the boat, figuratively speaking. “Okay. I’m fairly lucky most of the time.”
“Good, because the last time I checked the weather, there was a storm heading our way. That’s the reason I was returning to port.”
“Until I fell from the sky.”
Finally, he smiled all the way, stripping years off his handsome face. “Yeah, but them’s the breaks. Just as long as you know what you’re up against. The weather could get pretty rough.”
Living for years in Ohio, smack-dab in the middle of tornado alley, Lizzie had grown up with storms. She had overcome her fear and learned to respect their majesty, their power. Come to think of it, not much seemed to frighten her because long ago she’d learned you just have to have faith that things would work out.
However, Jack Dunlap did frighten her in a way, or maybe it was his sensual pull. Not that she would tell him that. She didn’t dare reveal her attraction to him. In fact, she was determined not to let him see that each time she was close to him, she entertained some really dubious thoughts.
Lizzie pulled her gaze away from his lest she give herself away. “I’m sure everything will work out fine.”
“Just so you know,” he added, “it might get rocky around here.” His eyes narrowed and he took on that look again. The one that said he meant business, she’d like to think the kind that involved undressing and caressing. “Can you handle it?”
Oh, yeah. “Oh, sure. What’s a little wind and rain?” A little bedtime adventure.
Halt, Lizzie.
“In the meantime,” he said, moving a bit closer, “I’ll have to show you what I need you to do in case the situation calls for it.”
Visions of him instructing her on the finer points of lovemaking leaped into her brain. What a way to weather a storm. She could consider that later. First, she needed food.
Her stomach rumbled loud enough to rouse the Loch Ness monster. “Maybe this is a really bad time to ask, but do you have anything to eat? I’m starving.”
His grin went wicked and a little wild. “So am I, Dorothy. So am I.”
Jack was very hungry, thanks to the woman busily raiding his cabinets. He should’ve thought twice, ten times before he walked in on her in the tub. He should’ve turned around and headed out the door. He should leave her to her own devices now, before he did something really ridiculous, like run his hands down her bare thighs, then up again, then down again….
He