was his back that hit first. She landed flat on top of him.
There was a moment of stunned quiet.
Then Griffin's hands ran unsteadily over her body. "Jane," he said, his voice suddenly urgent. Anxious. "Jesus, Jane." He sounded panicked, and his hands kept rushing along her skin, feeling her from head to toe. Then his arms dropped to the sand, limp. "Jesus. For a second..."
Her breath had been knocked out of her. It took another moment to inhale a decent lungful of air, then she coughed it back out. "For a second what?" she asked huskily, rolling off of him.
He was staring upward at the million pinpricks of stars tossed like glitter across dark sky. "When our Humvee was bombed," he said, his voice slurred, "it was Jackal who landed on me. Jackson was his last name, but we called him Jackal. Little guy, not much bigger than Duncan. I said to him, to Jackal, 'You all right, kid? Are you all right?' 'Yeah,' he said. He said he was good, just that effing ringing in his ears. So he shifted off of me...and that's when I realized I was all wet, wet with his blood, and when he'd moved he'd left one of his legs behind."
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
She had no idea how to respond to that. Call her a coward, but the story only made her more eager to get back to her own cottage. Ted didn't seem any braver than she. Though he helped Jane draw Griffin to his feet, he left them both at the door of No. 9, mumbling something about a girl back at the bar.
Griffin allowed her to steer him to his bedroom. It was dark except for the glow from a small lamp on the dresser. She had plans to shove him into bed and then beat a hasty retreat. He, naturally, resisted. "Gonna take a shower," he said, brushing off her hands and heading for the bathroom. The door shut with a definitive click.
Jane paced back and forth as she listened for the rush of water. He didn't appear sober enough to leave safely alone. She had visions of him falling on the slick tile and hitting his head or breaking a limb. I realized I was all wet, wet with his blood, and when he'd moved he'd left one of his legs behind.
A shiver rolled down her back, quickly followed by another and another. She was trembling with cold or with reaction to what he'd shared. When Griffin got out of the shower, she'd see him under the blankets and then go bury herself beneath her own set next door. Probably pull them right over her head.
Five minutes later, he emerged, naked except for a pair of ratty jeans that hung low on his hips. She kept her gaze trained on his face. He looked exhausted and not quite so drunk, if you didn't count the bloodshot eyes and the disheveled hair. It was wet, and she could smell the shampoo from across the room, but it was long enough to need a comb now, and he hadn't bothered.
Did he realize she was here? He leaned against the wall, then pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Rex?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "Any news?"
"No change." She'd called the nurses' station about a half hour ago.
"Good. That's good."
"Yes." She could leave now.
"About before..." His gesture could encompass a host of things.
"It doesn't matter. We'll figure it out tomorrow."
"No." He pushed away from the wall. With erratic strides he left the room and headed down the hallway.
"What are you doing?"
He didn't answer. When the light blazed in the office, he took a half step back, his hand shielding his eyes, but then he moved in, determined steps taking him to the desk. The pile of shredded manuscript was inches from his bare feet, but he didn't disturb it as he started going through the drawers.
"What are you doing?" she repeated.
"I'm going to fix it. Right now." One hand pointed to the mess on the floor, while the other continued rifling through pencils and pens. "I'm going to fix this for you, Jane."
Oh. Oh, God.
"As soon as I find the tape, I'll put it back together."
Jane closed her eyes. His movements were suddenly frantic and so was her pulse rate. The pirate wanted to make amends...and yet there was no way to repair all that was wrong. As she watched him become increasingly frenzied, she knew her brief bout