The next few hours proved this comment to be depressingly true. It took a relatively short time for Jane to determine that she was hopelessly outclassed by Jake Dominic. Her grandfather had been a good, solid methodical player, but this man was clearly in the master class. His strategy was as complex and ruthless as the man himself. She knew herself to be a fairly good player, with flashes of almost intuitive brilliance. Her fatal weakness lay in that streak of impulsiveness that had been the bane of her grandfather's existence. Even so, at the end of two hours of play, when Jake Dominic had inevitably put her in check, she felt that she'd given a reasonably good account of herself.
Jake leaned back in his chair, one long, graceful hand toying idly with her queen. “You know that you could be much better than you are?” he asked quietly. “All you need is a little self-discipline.”
“I know,” she agreed, making a face. “It was drummed into me often enough by my grandfather. But I can't bring myself to play that way. It would take all the fun out of it.”
“Even if it would eventually furnish you with the fruits of victory?” His eyes were curiously searching.
“I'm not that goal-oriented,” she said casually. “I'd much rather enjoy myself along the way.”
“I'm afraid I can't agree with your philosophy.” His mouth curved in that familiar mocking smile. “I always find winning worthwhile. I make a habit of it.”
She already knew that. Jake Dominic had devoted the same single-minded effort to his chess game that he would to any more serious project.
Jane smiled happily as she helped him to collect the ivory chess pieces and replace them in their velvet-lined box. “Well, the contrast of viewpoints makes for an interesting game,” she commented, and concentrated on putting each piece properly in its indented place in the box.
Dominic's eyes flickered with amusement as they fixed on the girl's almost childishly intent face, her pink tongue unconsciously protruding from the corner of her mouth as she gravely put the last piece in the box and closed the lid carefully.
“Yes, it makes for an interesting game,” he repeated slowly, accepting the box from her and replacing it in the drawer.
Jane smothered a yawn as she pushed back her chair and stood up. Now that the tension of the game had ended she was suddenly overpoweringly sleepy. “Thank you for the game, Mr. Dominic,” she said, sounding like a polite little girl. “If you don't mind, I'll say good night now.”
“Would you like some more coffee?” he offered lazily, rising to his feet. He looked at his watch. “It's only a little after eleven.”
She shook her head firmly. “I must get to bed,” she said with a grimace. “I have to get up at six.”
“Oh, yes, I'd forgotten,” he replied absently, with a trace of annoyance in his voice. “Run along to bed, then,” he said curtly. “But be sure you report here at eight sharp tomorrow evening.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked, smothering another yawn. “You want me to come again tomorrow evening?”
“I said so, didn't I?” he asked testily, his expression half amused, half annoyed at her obvious lack of appreciation of his desire for her company.
“Okay,” she muttered inelegantly, turning to leave.
“Jane!”
She half turned, to gaze at him like a sleepy kitten from those great golden eyes.
“See that you eat dinner tomorrow. I refuse to wait on any woman two nights in a row.”
four
THAT FIRST DAY SET THE PATTERN FOR THE ones that were to follow. Jane's second day scrubbing decks was even more uncomfortable than the first. The pain in her bruised knees was agonizing, and seemed to grow in intensity as the day wore on. The only relief from the misery of pain and exhaustion came from the increasingly open display of sympathy and support from the other members of the crew.
Simon had introduced her to a number of the crew at breakfast that morning, and Jane had found them to be a genial and friendly group, altogether different from the rough, tough, blustery image she had always had of men who made their livelihood on the sea. That they all possessed a streak of gallantry she was to learn later in the day.
One by one, with seeming casualness, they wandered by the area where she was working. And always they brought gifts, ranging from a drink from a thermos of coffee, to the presentation of a panama hat to shade her from the sun and a pair of rubber gloves to relieve her chapped and reddened hands. Though the gifts were invaluable in themselves, it was the sympathy behind them that gave her the strength to complete that second agonizing day.
Her time with Jake Dominic in the evenings became a priceless oasis in the desert of those next few days. No matter how excruciatingly tired she was at the end of the day, she had only to open the door of the lounge and see Jake look up with that mocking smile to feel a rush of new vitality. It was inexpressibly soothing to sit over the chessboard and watch the wary flickering behind those ebony eyes as she presented him with an unexpected challenge, or to listen to his amusing stories of life on the set as they sat over coffee. Jake Dominic continued to treat her with the affectionate indulgence that he might show a precocious niece, and this arrangement met with her entire satisfaction. She was fully aware that in any other role, he would be a highly dangerous commodity. She doubted her ability to handle any encounter with the much-publicized rake of the tabloids. She much preferred the Jake Dominic who teased her about her cat eyes, trounced her soundly at chess, and let her leave him at the end of the evening with no more than a casual wave of his hand.
But by the fourth day not even the anticipation of the evening to come could dull the sheer agony Jane was experiencing. She'd borrowed two elastic bandages from Simon to bind her knees, which were now swollen twice their normal size and were a livid purple. The bandage provided a little protection, but as the day progressed she began to feel a trifle nauseous from the pain. She did not bother to go to lunch that day. She merely crawled to the rail and sat leaning against it, her eyes shut against the glaring noonday sun. She gently massaged her left kneecap, which for some reason appeared to be in worse condition than the other. She really must eat dinner, she thought wearily. She'd need all the strength she could muster to get through tomorrow.
But by evening it didn't seem to be worth the effort to make her way to the mess. After a quick shower, she rebandaged her knees and lay down on her bunk to nap for the two hours' respite before she had to report to the lounge. Luckily she took the precaution of setting the alarm on her clock, for when she collapsed on the bed she fell into an exhausted sleep.
The alarm woke her with its strident ring, and for a moment Jane was tempted to shut it off and roll over and go back to sleep. Then she sat up and began to dress in the oversized khaki trousers that she had worn that first evening. She grabbed her own black turtleneck sweater, which she'd washed out by hand the night before, and slipped it on. She went into the bathroom to run a comb through her hair, and her reflection in the mirror over the sink sent a shiver of distaste through her. She looked like a sick cat, she thought gloomily. She spent the next few minutes massaging her pale cheeks with the rough terry towel to restore the color to them.
When she opened the door to the lounge ten minutes later, she drew a deep breath and fixed a bright smile on her face before she strolled forward, making a conscious effort not to hobble.
Jake Dominic was sitting at the bar, a glass of bourbon in his hand and an impatient frown on his lean dark face. Tonight he was wearing faded jeans that hung low on his hips and hugged the muscular line of his thighs with loving detail. His navy cotton shirt was left carelessly unbuttoned almost to the waist, and Jane's eyes were drawn in fascination to the triangle of dark wiry hair on his powerfully muscled chest.
Jane had a fleeting memory of the rough virile feel of that hair against her fingertips. She felt a sudden warmth in her cheeks, and she looked away hurriedly.
“You're thirty minutes late,” Jake said. “I was about to send someone to get you.”
&n
bsp; She made a mocking bow. “Forgive me, O honorable master,” she said in a singsong, lowering her lashes demurely. “Your lowly servant humbly begs to be excused for this grievous misdemeanor.”
A reluctant smile curved his lips. “Impudent scamp,” he charged. “Be careful, redhead. One of these days I'm going to teach you a little respect.” He rose to his feet and swallowed the rest of his drink.
“What do you call our chess games?” she asked lightly. “If you ever think of a more severe lesson than you dish out over that chess table, I may not show up at all.”
A flicker of annoyance touched Jake's face. “You'll do as you're told,” he said coolly. “I own you, remember?”
Perhaps it was her weariness that urged her to prick at that arrogance. “But only for two months,” she reminded him sweetly. “Our agreement was just until the end of the cruise.”
His face became even darker, and Jane wondered idly what had served to put him in such a savage humor. Surely the fact that she was a little late couldn't have annoyed him to this extent.
An unpleasant smile twisted his lips. “That's right, redhead,” he said silkily. “It was just for the duration of the cruise. But I don't believe I specified the exact length of the cruise. Who knows—I may feel the need for an extended rest.” His eyes flickered moodily. “How would you like to continue with your duties for the next six months?”
Jane gave him a distinctly skeptical look. “That would be a greater punishment for you than it would be for me,” she said serenely. “I'd wager you'd be bored to tears in no time, Mr. Dominic. You're not exactly the playboy type.”
“There are a number of people who would disagree with you,” he said bitterly. “Don't you read the gossip columns?”
“I'm not saying that you don't try to maintain the pose,” Jane said kindly. “But you're much too dynamic to be really successful at it.”
Jake Dominic's dark eyes narrowed. “You're very confident of your own powers of judgment,” he said softly. “I think you should be aware that I heartily dislike being considered predictable, little one.” There was such a wealth of menace in his tone that Jane took an involuntary step backward.
The action brought a glint of satisfaction to his eyes. “If you're through with your amateurish psychoanalysis, I suggest we get on with the game,” he said coldly, and he turned and walked away.
The game that night bore no resemblance to the ones that had preceded it. Jake Dominic was out for blood tonight. From the first move it was clear that he meant to vanquish her in the most brutal and humiliating method possible. In a little under an hour he had her in check.
Jane looked across the table into the ebony eyes gleaming in triumph, and said ruefully, “I guess you put me in my place. Remind me not to make you angry again. My self-esteem can't take it.”
Some of the ruthlessness faded from his face, to be replaced by an odd watchfulness. He shook his head incredulously. “Don't you know that you're supposed to be ground beneath my heel?” he asked dryly. “What does it take to put you down, Jane?”
Jane shrugged, her smile shaky. “Oh, I'm suitably chastised, I assure you. You can be a very intimidating man, Mr. Dominic.”
“Jake, damn it,” he said impatiently. “What's the point in addressing me so formally, when you know I get nothing but cheek from you?”
“Jake,” she repeated, the name sounding strangely intimate on her lips. She pushed back her chair and rose slowly, her knees stiff from inactivity. “Well, Jake, I believe I'll call it a night. I'm afraid your court jester isn't providing you with the proper degree of amusement this evening. Perhaps another time.”
The dark eyes flared with annoyance. “It's early yet. Stay a bit,” he ordered arrogantly. “I'll give you another chance.”
She shook her head. “Not tonight,” she said, turning away.
Jake's hand snaked out to grasp her wrist, obviously meaning only to stop her, but the stiffness of her legs caused her to be momentarily unbalanced, so that her left limb rammed into the table leg. A flash of hot agony shot through it, and a cry of pain broke from her.
Jake's eyes widened in surprise. “What the hell!” he exclaimed, his hand loosening around her wrist. His lightning glance took in the pasty color of Jane's face and the helpless quiver of her lips. “My God, what the hell happened?” he asked roughly. “You look like you're about to pass out.”
She shook her head as the wave of nausea gradually subsided. “I hit my leg,” she said shakily. “I'll be all right in a minute.” She sank back into her chair and closed her eyes, breathing deeply to still the sudden quivering weakness in her stomach.
With a muttered oath Jake was out of his chair and kneeling in front of her, his hands swiftly rolling up the loose leg of her khaki trousers.
She opened her eyes in sudden alarm and reached down to stop him. “No,” she said quickly. “I'll be fine. Just give me a moment.”
Jake's dark eyes were grim. “You're not going to stop me, Jane, so don't try,” he said harshly. “You barely touched that table leg and yet you're almost fainting with pain. I'm going to find out why.”
His determined gaze held hers for a long moment before she dropped her eyes. She couldn't fight him right now, she thought wearily. She hadn't the strength.
He had rolled the cuff over her knee, and now his swift, dexterous hands were unrolling the elastic bandage. He unwrapped the last layer of cloth and pulled the bandage away to reveal the ugly purple swelling of her kneecap.
“Good God!” he swore harshly. “What the hell have you done to yourself? That knee must be terribly painful.”
Jane wet her lips nervously with her tongue. “It's not that bad,” she said. “It will be fine in a few days.” She tried to cover the discolored bruise with her trouser leg, but he stopped her, an ominous frown clouding his face. His sharp glance had now noted the slight thickness beneath the other pant leg, and with a terse but descriptive obscenity he proceeded to roll it up. His face was rigidly controlled as he unwrapped the second bandage and saw the swollen knee.
He sat back on his heels, and his gaze traveled from knee to knee with incredulous eyes. “You've got to be the most stupid little bitch on the face of the earth!” he said explosively. “Haven't you got the sense to know that those bruises need attention? You shouldn't even be on your feet, for God's sake.”
“They'll be all right,” she insisted stubbornly. “I'll bathe them in cold water when I get back to my cabin.” She started to rise, and he pushed her unceremoniously back into the chair.
“Stay where you are,” he ordered. “I don't want you on your feet again until you have my permission. Which probably won't be for at least a week,” he added grimly, as he eyed the abused knees sourly.
“That's not possible,” Jane said stubbornly. “I've got to work tomorrow.”
Jake's lips were taut with anger as he remarked sarcastically, “Your devotion to duty is praiseworthy, but I run things around here, if you recall. You'll do what I say and like it. I'll tell Marc I'm sending you to bed for the next week.”
“No!” she cried forcefully, her golden eyes blazing. “I won't have Captain Benjamin think I came running to you because I couldn't take it. I'm going back to work tomorrow, and you can't stop me!”
Jake's eyes narrowed at her words. “What can't you take, Jane?” he asked with the softness of a stiletto sheathed in velvet. “Why should Marc think that you'd run to me?”
“I can take anything your precious captain hands out,” Jane said, breathing raggedly, “anything! And neither you nor anyone else is going to keep me from being on that deck in the morning!”
“We'll see about that,” he said. “But right now you're going to tell me what you're going to be doing on that deck tomorrow.”
“Why, scrubbing it, of course,” she said bitterly, suddenly reckless. “Miles and miles of it. How else do you think my knees would get like this?”
Jake Dominic went suddenly still. “You're saying that Benjami
n has had you scrubbing decks on your hands and knees for the past four days?”
Jane tossed her head. “Why not? Fresh sea air, sun, healthful exercise,” she enumerated caustically. “As you said, quite a change from the classroom.”
Anger flared in the dark eyes. “Damned if I don't almost see why Marc did it,” he said between his teeth. He rose to his feet and crossed to the phone extension at the bar and dialed rapidly. He spoke into the receiver. “Marc, I want you in the lounge immediately.” Without waiting for a reply he replaced the receiver and turned to look at her.
Jane looked infinitely vulnerable lying back in the chair, her cheeks pale, her diminutive body in its oversized garments slight and fragile. The only signs of strength were in the defiance in her eyes and the indomitable set to her soft pink mouth.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked curtly.
She lifted her chin. “It wasn't your concern. For that matter, it still isn't. It's entirely between Captain Benjamin and myself.”
He gazed at her in incredulous anger. “Damn it,” he said harshly. “I own the Sea Breeze. I employ every person aboard her, and you say it's not my concern when my captain abuses you?”
“I am not abused,” she said crossly. “I wish you'd just stay out of it.” She tightened her hands on the arms of the chair and attempted to lever herself into a standing position.
“Damn it, can't you ever obey orders?” he roared. He crossed the room in four strides and swung her up in his arms, ignoring her startled gasp.
She started to speak, but he cut off her words. “Shut up! Just shut up!” He carried her to the brown leather couch in the center of the room and dropped her on it with all the gentleness of one disposing of yesterday's garbage. “Now, stay there!”
Jane pulled herself into an upright position, very affronted by this undignified treatment, and opened her mouth to tell him just what he could do with his orders. This extremely hazardous course of action was interrupted by the arrival of Marc Benjamin.