Stranded With The Captain. Sharon HartleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
again? Not that I have room to criticize.
“Groggy,” Deb said. “I probably shouldn’t have taken a Dramamine on top of the sleeping pill.”
Cat felt Javi slip away, but didn’t turn to watch. He was being considerate by moving into his cabin to give them a little privacy, but she wanted to go in there with him, shut the door and finish where they’d started on deck. Let it go, Cat. You know the whole kiss thing was a giant mistake.
“Where are we?” Debbie asked.
“Anchored off Gun Cay exactly like we planned,” Cat said, realizing Deb was too out of it to notice anything unusual between her and the captain. Thank goodness. The embarrassment would be bad enough without Joan and Debbie knowing about her foolish behavior. She’d never hear the end of it.
“We’ve already cleared Bahamian customs?” Deb asked.
“Hours ago. You guys slept through it.”
Joan poked her head out of the bathroom, her dark hair a tangled mess around her pale face. She wiped her mouth with a damp washcloth.
“Are you okay?” Cat asked.
“Better now,” Joan said. “I just wish the boat would quit rocking.”
“It should be a calm night,” Cat said. “The winds are forecast to die down.”
Joan shuffled into the main saloon and looked out a porthole. “Can we go ashore?” she asked.
“No,” Cat said, sitting on the sofa surrounding the table.
Debbie moved next to Joan and also gazed hopefully toward land.
“It will be dark soon,” Cat explained. “And that’s an undeveloped island. There’s nothing but a small beach.”
“Precisely like the guys in the bar promised,” Deb said.
“Damn,” Joan muttered. “We lost a whole day.”
“We can take the dinghy and go ashore at first light,” Cat said. She felt bad for her friends. So far their holiday sucked. “Tomorrow will be fabulous.”
“Maybe,” Joan muttered.
“How come you didn’t get sick?” Debbie asked.
Cat shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” She didn’t remind them she’d followed Javi’s advice and remained on deck while her friends insisted on going to their cabin. No sense making them feel worse.
“So what have you been doing all this time?” Debbie asked.
Cat inwardly groaned as her cheeks warmed. She could never hide anything. Her feelings were always obvious on her face. The curse of the redhead.
“Helping the captain with the boat.”
But her friends continued to study the anchorage and didn’t notice.
“I guess you learned how to sail,” Debbie said, still sounding sleepy.
“A bit. Are you guys hungry?” Cat asked. “Javi and I had a sandwich during the sail here, but that seems like a long time ago.”
“God, no. My stomach is a wreck,” Joan said, sitting across from Cat.
“How about a diet soda? Sometimes carbonation helps.”
Joan nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Some vacation,” Debbie murmured.
“Sorry, guys,” Cat said. She stepped to the cooler and rummaged for sodas.
“It’s not your fault,” Debbie said, moving toward her cabin. “I’m going to bed. Until this sedative wears off, I can’t even have a conversation.”
“I hope you feel better,” Cat said.
She returned to the table with numb fingers and a couple of icy cans. She and Joan each popped a top, spraying cool mist, and Joan took a long, greedy swallow.
Wondering if Joanie had dumped too much too soon on an already queasy stomach, Cat also took a drink of the cool, sweet liquid. Maybe she should suggest they return to Florida. So far this trip hadn’t been much fun for anyone but her. And her enjoyment could be at an end now with that steamy kiss out there between her and the captain. She hadn’t known how to act around him before. How was she supposed to act now?
Sad to admit, but the scratch of his beard on her cheek had been the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.
This was a small boat. He was the captain. No way to avoid each other. Would he act like nothing had happened?
How unfair to feel awkward about one stupid kiss. If she were going to be uncomfortable, she should have gotten the full experience and enjoyed what was sure to be mind-blowing sex.
“Oh, God,” Joan said, closing her eyes. “The soda didn’t help, after all.”
“Can I do anything for you?” Cat asked.
“No. Sorry, Cat, but I’m going back to bed, too.”
Leaving her can on the table, Joan lurched to her feet and barely made it to the bathroom before the sound of dry heaves began again.
Cat sighed. Just great. Now what?
She hadn’t come on this holiday to spend the week alone.
Tomorrow would be a fresh start. The obvious thing to do would be retire to her own cabin and get some much-needed sleep. She could read for a while. Remembering the spectacular sunrise, her gaze drifted to the porthole. Sure enough, the sky already showed tinges of pink. The guys in Hattie’s Hammock had promised beautiful sunsets in Gun Cay. She didn’t want to miss the first one.
Plus, she did need to eat. The door to the head swung open. Joan emerged and slipped into her cabin, shutting the door.
Cat focused on the closed door to Javi’s cabin. Was he already asleep? She could rap lightly on the door and find out.
Yeah, she could, but a different woman would. Too bad this one didn’t have the nerve.
She could use the excuse of offering food. That wouldn’t seem too obvious.
Maybe she’d find the courage with a little more booze.
She poured her diet cola into a plastic cup, added ice, a healthy shot of rum and took a sip. Not bad. Debbie would insist on lime, but that was too much trouble.
Armed with her drink, Cat hurried up the steps to the cockpit where a gorgeous coral-streaked sky welcomed her. She froze when she spotted Javi sitting on the bow leaning against an aluminum railing and chugging out of their bottle of champagne. Or was it a second bottle?
He was bare-chested, as usual, but had changed into a dry pair of shorts.
How did he get up on deck without her noticing?
* * *
JAVI TOOK THE last swig of the champagne as he admired Irish’s approach. This novice sailor already had her sea legs—and such amazing legs they were. His gaze followed the lines of firm, strong thighs and curved calves beneath her shorts.
He frowned. Too pale. He hoped she didn’t burn.
But anyway, she was off-limits. Why couldn’t he remember that?
He’d heard the entire conversation between her and her friends. No help for it on a boat this size.
So she’d been abandoned for the night. Was she lonely? Looking for company to watch the sunset? Or something else.
Well, of course he aimed to please. He nestled the empty champagne bottle on the deck where it couldn’t roll overboard.
Irish sat down beside him, also facing the setting sun. Close enough to catch the fragrance of coconut-scented sunscreen.
Close enough for him to