Authors: Kat Attalla
He poured a glass of water from the refrigerator and handed it to her. “Drink this.”
* * * *
Lilly took the glass. Instead of drinking, she spilled the water over her head, arching her back to let it roll down her body. The cool water felt like heaven, and she sighed longingly. “More. Please.” Their eyes met, and she caught his know-it-all grin. “Damn it. Don’t you dare say I told you
so!
”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He filled the glass again. She drank it, and then another. When she held it out for him to fill again, he took it from her and put it in the sink. “Slow down, or you’ll wind up over the rail again.
Although, it is a charming sight for a bridegroom to see.”
She moaned and shot him a scathing glare. “Stop laughing at me.”
“Would you like something to eat?”
Her stomach contracted at the mere mention, which she was sure he knew would happen. “You’re such a comedian.”
“Then let’s go back to bed.”
They walked back to the room, and to his visible surprise, she slid off her sweat pants and crawled in the bed next to him without complaint. She might be stubborn
,
but
she
learned quickly.
The
combed
-cotton
tee shirt
felt
more comfortable than any pajamas she’d ever owned.
She closed her eyes and tried to deny the strange sensations that pulsed through her. Perhaps she should have changed. The shirt held the musky smell of him, disrupting her determination to remain the repressed little American he believed her to be.
She propped her head up on the palm of her hand. “Jack?”
“Umm.”
“I didn’t say it before, but I’m sorry about your friend, Stucky.” She didn’t ask to be kidnapped, but she felt responsible all the same. The explosion was meant to kill her, not his partner.
He eased his arm under her neck and cuddled her in the crook of his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. Try to get some sleep.”
“Good night, Jack.”
“Good night.”
“Jack?”
“Shut up, Lilly.”
“Well, now you sound like a husband.”
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll start acting like one.”
Lilly decided not to push her luck. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore his presence. Now, if she could just shut out the soft sound of his breathing, close her mind to the masculine scent of him, ignore the feel of his arms holding her close. If she could just stop thinking about the feel of his arousal pressed against her, she might get some sleep tonight.
* * * *
Lilly spent the first few minutes of her day familiarizing herself with the compact galley. The cabinets were meticulously organized to utilize every inch of available space. Other than that, she found no difference in cooking for a ship’s crew or the farm hands back in Iowa during the harvest.
Since she hadn’t met any of the men the night before, her first introductions came at the breakfast table.
Because they thought her a married woman, they carefully avoided any physical contact, even in the cramped area. They stepped over each other to avoid her so that no accident could be misconstrued in any way.
She spoke no Arabic, but Mustafa still kept a careful ear on the conversation. Any time he didn’t like the tone of voice, he bellowed at his crew. With Jack absent, Mustafa must have assigned himself the task of watching over her.
She walked around the table serving coffee. Most men mumbled or grunted their thanks, never once looking her in the eye. At the end of the table, a young boy of about sixteen was the only one to raise his head.
“It is the most delicious food I eat,” he said, proudly showing off his limited vocabulary.
She smiled. “You speak English.”
“Yes. Hello, pretty American lady. What is your sign?”
“No Trespassing,” Jack answered from the doorway. He waved his finger sternly at the boy, but with a trace of humor in his eyes. “She’s my wife, Sharif. You
be
careful how you speak to her, or I’ll use you for bait today.”
The taunting jibes from the others put an end to the harmless flirting. They filed out, congratulating Jack for finding such a wonderfully talented wife.
At least in the kitchen.
Lilly took the opportunity to rest for a moment and sat down at the table.
“You sure can clear out a room, Mr. Murphy. Did you ever think about changing your brand of mouthwash?”
“They wanted to leave us alone so you can make your first breakfast for your new husband.”
She had no intention of returning to the hot kitchen to cook something special for him. “You should have come earlier when the food was fresh.”
“I wanted to make sure no one died of food poisoning first.” He took a piece of corn bread and sampled her culinary skills. “Not bad.” He sat next to her and leaned back in the chair. “So, feed me, woman.”
“With an ego as big as yours, it’s a wonder you have any room left for food.”
He laughed off her attempts to insult him. “So, pretty American lady, what is your sign?”
“Dead End.”
Rather than taking her warning seriously, Jack seemed to view it as another challenge. He hauled her out of her seat and into his lap with no effort. She squirmed and fidgeted but he snaked his arms tightly around her waist to hold her still. “Just relax. We have an audience.”
She glanced up and saw the shadow of someone standing in the hallway. Determined to keep her promise and play the part in public, she put her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. If there were justice in the world, her weight would cause his foot to get pins and needles.
“That’s better. How’s your stomach today?”
“Better than last night.”
He slid his hand down her waist and under the loose fitting cotton top she wore. Her stomach muscles bunched, and she gasped. A ripple of pleasure ran through her, and she fought hard to quell the feeling.
This is crazy
.
He’s the enemy
.
“Don’t do that,” she whispered, pulling his hand away.
“Why?”
“Because there’s no point.
Our voyeur has departed. Or is that part of the job too?”
* * * *
Jack swore under his breath. He thought he’d made some progress last night. Apparently, he had been mistaken. He unhooked his hands, and she slid off his lap. Her bottom hit the floor, and she let out a gasp of protest. He didn’t mean to hurt her, but she could be so infuriating.
What really bothered him? Was his ego bruised because she didn’t obey his orders, or because she didn’t want him? Play the game, he’d warned her. Suddenly, he behaved like a sore loser because she played better than him and stuck to the rules.
He needed to change the rules. Next time, she would have to come to him.
“I’m sorry.” He helped her up and held onto her hand as she tried to leave. “This is getting us nowhere, Lilly. When we get to Tangier, you’re free to go. Do whatever you want.”
She eyed him as if she didn’t quite trust his sincerity. “And what will you tell your boss?”
“I’ll tell him I lost you.”
“I doubt Edward Santana will be pleased to hear that.”
He cupped his hands on her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Damn it, Lilly! How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t work for Santana! He killed my partner, for God’s sake.”
She pushed him away and stepped back. “Then who do you work for?”
He paused, deciding whether or not to answer. The idea had been to frighten her
by
keeping
her in the dark, and again he’d mastered his craft. Her questioning stare reflected the battle scars of a war weary refugee too suspicious to recognize an ally. He’d learned the hard way that control by fear didn’t work with Lilly. Perhaps control through trust might.
“The United States Customs Service.
Special Agent Jack Murphy at your service, ma’am.”
He tipped his head and walked out the door.
Chapter Five
Lilly tried to compose a coherent thought.
The Customs Department?
What did they want with her? And why go to all the trouble of smuggling her into her own country when she could go back of her own free will?
She still had many unanswered questions, but when she looked up, Jack had gone. Well, he shouldn’t blame her when he’d lied to begin with. What was she supposed to think when a strange man followed her all over the world? Instead of feeling relief, her temper began to boil. If the good guys arbitrarily broke the law to achieve their goals, how could anyone tell them from the criminals?
She took the leftover eggs, sandwiched in a chunk of bread, and put it aside to eat later. The rest of the platters she neatly stacked and carried into the galley.
Crashing around some cast iron pots would help her let off steam.
She only wished she could crack one over Jack’s head.
“You’re free to go,” he’d told her.
Like she had anywhere to go now.
A blonde-haired, blue-eyed American would not go unnoticed in Morocco. A caftan and veil would help, but she had no place to hide anyway.
Free to go? If she had to, she would stalk him.
After finishing the dishes, she poured herself a cup of coffee and went to enjoy her breakfast. She saw Jack talking to Mustafa at the end of the hallway, but decided against speaking to him yet. As she entered the dining area she noticed her breakfast was no longer on the table. She turned back and glanced down the hall just as Jack took the last bite of her sandwich. The louse hadn’t been content with ruining her breakfast, he ate it too.
The day passed too quickly for her to find a chance to speak with Jack. She had a full time job just keeping the men fed. By the time she retired for the night, Jack had already started his shift.
Every time Lilly found a spare second, Jack disappeared. Oh, he cleverly kept up the charade. In front of the men he was playful and attentive, but the minute they were alone, he made a quick retreat to work. As the boat filled up with the daily catch there was always something that needed to be done.
The first day, she thought she’d never get used to the smell of fish, but after a while, she didn’t even notice. She worried about what would happen when they arrived in port. If she didn’t speak to Jack soon, it might be too late. Three days had already passed, and she had no idea how much longer they would remain at sea.
When she finished the last of the dinner dishes, she climbed up on deck in search of Jack. He stood at the rail of the bow, watching the red sunset. She took a deep breath and grabbed hold of his arm. “May I talk to you?”
He glanced down at the fingers grasping the fabric of his sleeve and raised his head slowly. “What do you want?”
She cast off the last remaining threads of her stubborn pride. “Please don’t leave me there by myself.”
“Why not?
That’s what you want, isn’t it? Or maybe I should stick around until you really do slit my throat.”
Her eyes flew automatically to the gash on his cheek. It had begun to heal, but there would no doubt be a scar. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know who you were. What would you have done in my place?”
* * * *
Jack opened his mouth and then clamped it shut again. How could he defend his actions? He had kidnapped her and he had lied to her. When he was honest with himself, which wasn’t often these days, he couldn’t blame her. He had, in effect, terrorized her across half of the European continent. Should he now expect her to see him as her savior and offer herself to him in undying gratitude?
Although, that mental picture appealed to him.
“You’re right.”
She let go of his arm and began pacing. “So, maybe I have a quick temper. I’m sorry. That’s the way I am. But I won’t complain about anything again. I promise.”
“Okay.”
She seemed so intent on getting the words out of her mouth that she stared straight down at the deck and walked back and forth. “Well, maybe I can’t promise that. But I’ll try. Although why I care if I get back is a mystery. I’m going to be paying off my credit cards for the rest of my natural life. However long that might be.”
Jack leaned back against the rail and smiled as she finished her monologue. He saw no point in trying to stop her. She didn’t pause long enough to listen.
“Of course, I won’t live very long if you leave me by myself. And, well, I said I’m sorry. And short of promising you my first born, which I’d have to survive to bear, I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Finally finished, she turned her desperate eyes up to him. “Jack?”