What The Greek's Wife Needs - Dani Collins Page 0,17
a harder pitch than could be blamed on the boat, and a cold flush of nausea washed over her.
“No,” she moaned softly as she realized she was sick. She touched Illi, but she had no sign of fever. Her growing fussiness sounded like hunger and a wet diaper.
Tanja changed her and used a wet wipe to wash her hands, remembering the water in the tanks might not be potable. Was that what was causing these knifing pains that kept accosting her? They were a lot worse than monthly cramps, something she hadn’t had in a while, probably due to worry and weight loss.
She had to leave Illi crying while she clattered around the galley, using bottled water to make the formula. The small task pretty much wiped her out. When she had the bottle ready, she made a herculean effort and brought Illi up to the seat across from the helm to feed her.
The door abruptly slid open and Leon halted as he saw them.
“I have to look at the horizon,” she said with a lip-curl of self-deprecation.
“Seasick?”
“Yeah.” That’s what she was telling herself, even though hot and cold chills were rolling over her.
“Eat something.” He moved to flick through the screens.
Her stomach had writhed with agony at the scent of the formula. She swallowed back a reflexive gag and said, “No, thanks.”
“Take the wheel while I make a cup of soup?”
It was all she could do to hold on to the baby and move those few steps to slide into the pilot’s seat. She concentrated on measured breaths, willing the growing nausea to subside.
As Illi was finishing her bottle, Leon brought two cups of soup and offered her one.
Tanja averted her face.
“I know you don’t feel hungry, but it’ll help.” It was an order.
“I drank some of the tap water,” she admitted.
“Why? I told you not to.”
“You didn’t tell me soon enough. I did it last night.”
He sighed with impatience and set both cups into nearby holders. His hand suddenly loomed in front of her eyes, startling her into recoiling, but he was only wrapping his wide hand across her forehead. After a moment, he shifted the backs of his fingers to her cheek, his touch cool and incredibly soothing.
His tone, however, as he swore under his breath was less comforting. “You have a fever.”
“It’s a water bug. At least it’s not contagious.”
“We hope,” he muttered.
“Move then. I’ll get away from you.”
He stepped back and she wriggled from the helm, juggling baby and empty bottle.
Her struggle must have looked pretty bad because Leon locked his arms around both her and the baby. He plucked the empty bottle from her hold and eased her into the nook seat, scowling at her with a disgruntled expression.
“Are you in pain? Maybe it’s something more serious. Appendicitis?”
“Oh, that’s very calming, thanks. It’s not that bad,” she insisted, even though she was so weak Illi felt as heavy as a bag of cement in her arms, one that wriggled and kicked with joy.
It was so nice to see her full and happy, Tanja couldn’t begrudge her energy. She played a game of wiggling Illi’s soggy hand against her soggy mouth, saying nonsense things. Illi released her infectious baby chortle, making Tanja chuckle in turn.
When she heard Leon snort, she glanced at him and caught him watching them with the strangest expression on his face. Amusement, but something intensely personal.
He quickly snapped his attention to the horizon, showing her only his stoic profile, but her heart took a stumble over what she had glimpsed. Envy? Longing? Tenderness?
“Oh,” she groaned as a sudden stab went into her stomach, sharp enough to push the noise out of her. She swallowed, but didn’t think the porridge was going to stay down. “Can you—” She stood and shoved the baby at him before hurrying to the head.
A few minutes later, feeling scraped hollow, she shakily returned to the helm.
“There are anti-nausea pills in my shaving kit.” He had Illi clasped in one bent arm against his chest.
“They knock me out and I have to look after Little Miss.”
“I can hold her. Go lie down.”
“If I’m lying down, I might as well have her beside me.” She moved down the ladder and held out her hands.
He hesitated, then crouched to transfer the baby. “Call me if you need help. It’s only a few hours until we intersect with Poseidon’s Crown. You might feel better once we’re not rocking so much.”
“I’m sure I will,” she said, but already knew it was