The Devil and the Deep - By Amy Andrews Page 0,37
from pale to white as the sail billowing above their heads. ‘Thanks. You okay?’ he asked. ‘The bureau says it’ll only last for another couple of hours.’
Stella gripped the leather back of the high captain’s chair where his butt was parked. He looked totally in his element. Calm and confident. Relishing the inclement weather even, as if it were nothing more than a sun shower. Stella nodded. ‘I’m fine.’
He grinned at her, his long hair blowing behind him in true pirate fashion. ‘There are some sea sickness pills in the cupboard above the sink,’ he offered.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied.
Rick laughed. ‘There’s a lot of that going on today.’
Stella was sure if her cheeks weren’t so cool they’d be heating up nicely. ‘I practically grew up on a boat.’
Rick shrugged. ‘Just saying...’
She went below deck and checked every room, securing any items that were lying around. She grabbed her spray jacket and pulled Rick’s off the hook on the back of his door and headed to the galley, finding a couple of cans of soup and emptying them into a saucepan. The boat rolled to the side as she placed it over the element and her stomach lurched.
Damn it.
She reached above the sink and threw back two of the little blue pills, praying they’d work in a hurry.
She stood over the soup as it heated, shifting her weight from leg to leg with the motion of the boat. When it was done she puréed it, poured it into thermal mugs, cut off thick chunks of bread from the loaf they’d bought yesterday and loaded it all onto a tray. She shrugged into her jacket and folded his over her arm.
By the time she rejoined him fifteen minutes after taking the anti-emetic she was actually feeling markedly better.
‘Thanks,’ Rick said, relieving her of the tray and quickly shrugging into the jacket.
She could see water droplets clinging to his eyelashes and spattering his bronzed chest. Just as the shower spray had done last night.
She dragged her eyes away. Must not think about the shower.
‘Hmm, this is good,’ Rick said, watching her face as two pink spots appeared on her pale cheeks. ‘I think I’ll keep you.’
Stella’s gaze flicked to his, to the teasing light in his pirate eyes. Two could play at that game. ‘I think I’ll let you,’ she murmured.
Rick cocked an eyebrow, surprised at her easy comeback, then chuckled. He warmed his hands around the mug, taking another sip of the rich, fragrant pea and ham soup. ‘Weather’s easing up.’
Stella looked out at the lurching ocean. ‘It is?’
He chuckled some more. ‘You’ve become such a landlubber. Can’t you feel it beneath your soles?’
Stella felt the laugh reach right inside her and warm her from the inside out. She guessed she had. ‘No, Captain Ahab, I can’t.’
‘Ah, Moby Dick, my favourite book,’ he teased, because he knew how much Stella hated it.
She rolled her eyes at him. ‘You’ve never read it.’
‘I have,’ he protested.
‘When?’
‘When you dared me to,’ he said.
Stella frowned at him, thinking back through the mists of time to that long-ago summer dare. ‘I was twelve.’
She’d been going through a classics phase and also trying to read anything nautical to connect with her father, to try and understand why he’d loved the sea more than her mother.
It hadn’t helped.
‘I never back down on a dare. Besides, I liked it.’
Not as much as the hot pirate sex in Pleasure Hunt...
They had a discussion about its merits while they finished off their lunch and even Stella felt the sea was calmer by the time she reloaded their tray. The wind had definitely dropped. The sprinkling rain had stopped and they shrugged out of their jackets. A bare bicep brushed against her shoulder as he threw his jacket over the back of his chair and she shut her eyes briefly as heat licked at the point of contact.
‘I’ll get rid of these,’ she said briskly, pulling away from him.
Rick watched her go, her hips full and round and swinging enticingly as her gait compensated for the lurch of the boat. Hips that had appeared one summer along with the bra and, no matter how much he’d tried to ignore them in his day-to-day dealings with her, they’d been right there in his fevered teenage dreams.
A sudden gust of wind caused the boat to roll to the side and he watched as she shimmied to counteract the swell. He smiled, admiring the move until he realised she’d overbalanced and was going down.
‘Stella!’ he called