The saltines were working a little magic, and for the first time since she’d eaten, Kate began to believe lunch might stay put. Relief flowed through her and she relaxed against Lucas’s chest. She became aware of his breath at her temple, the heat of his arms against hers. Gradually, relief morphed into self-consciousness. She felt silly and vulnerable. She wanted her strength, her dignity back. Yet, the security of his embrace comforted her.

“Feeling better?” The closeness of his voice startled her.

“I am, actually.” Her stomach still rebelled; her head still swam. But at least I’m not wishing I was dead. It was an improvement.

“Good.” He squeezed her and let go. “I’ll get us back to shore as quick as I can.”

He left, and the wind brushed the heat of her back where he’d been, chilling her skin. She watched him walk away, his long, steady legs navigating the deck. The wind tousled his hair as he adjusted one of the sails.

For some reason it was harder than she expected to look away. She rested her forearms on the railing and turned toward the horizon.

Later that night, Kate lay in bed alone, grateful to feel human again. Dry land was a wonderful thing. She didn’t plan on leaving it anytime soon. After they’d docked, Lucas had brought her straight home, even though she felt better. He’d left with her grocery list and returned with a half dozen bags of food, then scolded her for cleaning while he’d been gone.

She smiled against the feather pillow. She hadn’t figured on him being a mother hen. Then she remembered the feel of his solid arms around her and the roughness of his jaw at her temple, and something inside her stirred. Had he called her “honey” earlier?

What is wrong with me? I love Bryan. This isn’t a real marriage, but a business arrangement.

And good thing. She couldn’t have found a more polar-opposite husband. Lucas was everything she needed to avoid in a permanent relationship.

If she were to receive a Dear Dr. Kate letter spelling out her own circumstances, her advice would be to run. “Don’t get involved with someone ill suited to you; it’s an invitation for disaster,” she’d write.

But moments later, when the bed sank behind her with Lucas’s weight, she couldn’t stop her heart from speeding or her breath from catching. The covers shifted, and she felt the mattress dip down, felt his body almost touching hers.

Then she felt something else. A kiss pressed to the crown of her head.

Everything stilled for a moment as she waited . . . hopeful? Fearful? She wasn’t sure what emotion made her heart stutter.

The bed quivered again as Lucas settled on his side, and her heart’s pace slowly returned to normal as her eyes searched the darkness.

Fourteen

Fourteen