A Woman's Heart (10 page)

"Sometimes the truth is hard to take," Peter added.

"I'll be on my way now, dear," Ruby said hastily, bustling past Jann and moving toward the stairs. "Nice to see you, Peter. Drop by our boat on your way out. Capt'n's got some pictures he wants to show you."

Escaping, that's what her friend was doing. But who could blame her? Jann waited until Ruby had slipped past Peter and disappeared up the companionway before fixing her gaze on Claire's brother.

"You want the truth?" she demanded, determined to finish now what she'd left unsaid the night before.

His gaze didn't falter.

"Claire thought if she told you about Alex, you would have taken him from her, too."

Some emotion flickered in Peter's eyes, but before she had a chance to assess it, he swept his hair from his forehead, his hand blocking her view. "She knew me better than that."

His words triggered a silence so deep it was impossible for Jann to continue. Did he expect her to believe him? To trust him? The only thing she knew for certain was that Claire's brother wanted Alex and was prepared to go to any lengths to get him.

She clutched her baby more tightly. Alex wiggled and twisted. His plump body suddenly seemed an impossible weight in her arms, nicely matching the leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Here," Peter said, holding out his arms, "give him to me."

Alex leaned toward his uncle's outstretched arms, squirming with anticipation.

"It's time for his nap," Jann lied, struggling to retain her grip. She turned, and swiftly made her way down the passage to the baby's cabin. Alex whimpered as she laid him in his crib.

"Shh," she whispered, gently stroking his cheek, but his eyes screwed tighter and he began to cry. Slipping her crystal heart from around her neck, Jann dangled it in front of him. Alex loved the shiny stone, was usually soothed by it as much as she.

"Hush," she begged softly, praying Peter would go away.

The crystal worked its usual magic. Alex reached for it once or twice, then his eyes fluttered shut, flickered open once then shut again. Jann tiptoed out of the cabin and slowly moved back along the passage. Peter was still standing where she had left him and from the stubborn look on his face, he wasn't going anywhere.

An angry wail, filtered only by Alex's door, suddenly filled the cabin with sound.

"He doesn't sound tired to me," Peter remarked mildly.

"What would you know about it?" Jann muttered, wincing as the wailing continued.

"Enough to know that baby is not going to sleep." He brushed past her. "I'll get him."

"You will not." Jann chased after Peter and grabbed his arm.

He turned to face her, the narrow passage impossibly tight for two people. One look at his lips and Jann's heart sank. Perhaps Ruby was right. Perhaps it was time to let a man into her life. Maybe then her knees wouldn't turn to rubber every time she came close to Claire's brother.

She yanked her hand from Peter's arm, but the rubbery knees didn't disappear. She was fooling herself if she thought another man might help.

Peter gave her a long, hard look then continued on his way. He spoke soothingly to Alex before picking him up, continuing to murmur endearments when he held the baby in his arms.

Alex's sobs dulled to a whimper and his stiff straight body gradually melted against his uncle's contour.

Fierce, unexpected tears welled up in Jann's eyes. She spun around, fleeing back to the main cabin. She had come to believe if she tried hard enough she could escape the fate she knew was hers. But against her better judgment, she had let first Claire and then Alex into her life, convincing herself she would be safe, that they would be safe.

She had been wrong.

Claire had died.

Peter might win.

Fear as black as a moonless night settled around Jann, blocking the sunlight pouring in through the portholes and filling her heart with dread. She clutched her crystal heart, desperate to find strength.

"You're out of diapers," Peter said, appearing at the head of the passageway.

She gaped at him, stupefied, his comment so ordinary, in other circumstances, even homey. But only in someone else's life, where a man, woman and baby were a family. Not here. Not now.

"How do you know?" she asked, grasping for something to say and finding only that.

"Alexander needed changing," he replied, with a shrug. "So I did it then put him back to bed."

Claire's brother wasn't supposed to know how to change a baby. He wasn't supposed to be good at any of this.

"Could you go to the shop then and get some more diapers?" Jann asked. That would get him gone.

"You do it," he said. "I'll stay with Alexander."

"Not without me, you won't."

"You're being ridiculous." He shook his head. "I'm hardly going to spirit Alexander away in the time it takes you to go to the store."

He was capable of anything.

"I'll get Ruby," she said, and moved toward the stairs.

* * *

Jann glanced up at the sun. It must be close to noon already. It had taken her nearly half an hour to go to the store and back but Alex must be asleep now. She couldn't hear a sound from
Heart's Desire
as she hurried down the dock.

She stepped on board and paused, listening by the open hatch. Not a sound out of Peter or Ruby or Alex. With any luck Peter had left, and she'd find Ruby curled up on the settee reading. With a lighter heart, she stepped down the companionway, halting abruptly on the bottom step.

A dozen piles of neatly folded baby clothes lay in front of her on the floor. Ruby must have worked like a Trojan to get all that done in the short time she'd been gone.

Thank you, Jann whispered silently.

"That didn't take long," Peter drawled, abruptly stepping out from the galley.

"You're still here," Jann said, stunned. She stumbled down the last step. "Why?"

"I'm just putting away the dish towels." He held up empty hands. "I'm not making off with the silver."

"Where's Ruby?"

"She went home."

"And left you here alone?"

"I'm a big boy, Jann." He smiled, looking nothing like a boy, looking only like what he was, a very strong, very sexy, man. "I'm not afraid to stay alone."

"You know very well what I mean." Then her breath abandoned her chest. "Everything's all right, isn't it? Nothing's happened to the Capt'n?"

The teasing light left Peter's eyes and he stepped toward her, until he was so close, she gave up any attempt to re-capture her breath.

"It's all right, Jann," he reassured her. "Nobody's hurt." He frowned. "You're awfully quick to assume the worst."

Relief rushed through her. "It's usually better to expect the worst than be ambushed by it," she muttered.

"What's made you so wary?"

"People like you..." She twisted away, not wanting to seek refuge in his eyes. "...who turn up and expect to get everything they want, even if it's something that belongs to someone else."

"I don't believe that's the reason." He took hold of her shoulder and pulled her gently around. "Tell me," he demanded again. "Tell me what's hurt you so badly."

"That's none of your business."

"Everything about you is my business."

"Why? So you can hold it against me in court?"

His eyes flashed dangerously and his grip tightened. A current crackled between them as he pulled her to him. At least it appeared he was pulling her closer. He seemed also to be pushing her away. She felt in limbo. Not closer, not farther, but locked in his arms nonetheless.

Her lips parted, the tug of war she saw waging in his eyes being also played out in her heart. Desire stabbed her loins, and she pressed her eyes shut, praying for the strength to resist this man, wishing someone, anyone, was there to help.

But there was no one there. She was on her own.

As she had been for a long time.

Peter groaned, as if the final giving in to desire had ruptured the bond between mind and body and the rending had caused him pain. His lips met hers as a moving train meets the air. Exacting, unswerving, relentless, his tongue probed deep, exploring her mouth.

No matter what her brain demanded, her limbs turned to jelly and her blood to fire. She could no more thrust Peter aside than stop the passage of time. And she admitted reluctantly... she didn't want to.

His hands spread possessively along her back, caressing and kneading her skin until her nerve endings were ablaze. She flowed toward him like water into a chasm, her warmth seeking his as a moth seeks a flame. Her brain shrieked for release before she became consumed, but even if her body had obeyed, his did not. His hands were like steel draped in silk—soft enough to drive her desires to desperation—strong enough to hold her for all eternity.

He explored her lips unhindered, trailing kisses across her cheek to her neck. Then she arched backward, helpless with need as his mouth paved a path down her throat to her breasts. Her breathing all but ceased.

Far away, in the distant recesses of conscious thought, she felt the niggling pull of fear. If her passions raged out of control, she would lose everything.

Not only her soul, but Alex as well.

But beyond that lay a deeper fear, that the desire she felt was false, that it would die as it had always done in the past, leaving her cold and untouched.

She moaned, her lips dry with longing, and her chest heaved, air rushing into where, only an instant before, there had been none. Summoning her last remaining shred of will, she placed her hands on Peter's chest and pushed.

His lips froze. "Damn," he swore softly, withdrawing as swiftly as he had pulled her to him.

For a long moment, he stared down at her, his face drawn and grim. He, too, seemed to be fighting for control. The breath expelled from his lungs came out in a downward blast of air—like the heat of a dragon about to devour its victim.

Swallowing hard, Jann stepped backward. Away from his reach, she struggled to ease the tightness in her throat and the pulsing need in her loins.

"We keep doing this," Peter said hoarsely.

"It has to stop."

"Yes."

His single word sounded so final, Jann's racing heart stilled.

"I don't want it," she whispered, searching for the strength to believe her own words.

He simply stared at her.

"I don't need it. Especially not from you."

"You do need it," he said quietly. "But you're right about one thing. It can't come from me." He turned to move away.

Some impulse urged her to hold out her hand to stop him, but she cradled her body instead, locking one hand under each arm.

"Why did Ruby leave?" she asked, desperate to talk of other things, not wanting to think now of how he affected her.

"I told her there was no need to stay." He shrugged, the movement strangely stilted, as though his muscles no longer did his bidding.

"You told her to go?"

"Yes."

"That's my decision, not yours."

"Is it?" He went to the settee and scooped up two piles of the baby clothes. They looked ridiculously small in his large hands.

"You know it is!"

"Not for much longer."

Jann's head began to spin as she tried to focus, which was impossible while looking into Peter's eyes. She stared at his hands instead.

"What are you doing with Alex's things?"

"Thought I'd put them away. I like to finish what I start."

"Didn't Ruby fold those clothes?"

"No." He smiled faintly. "I take it there's no difference in our technique?"

She angrily sucked in a breath. Access was one thing, but this man was beginning to dominate her life. And most irritating was the fact that she couldn't help but be impressed with the way he handled Alex. Besides playing with the baby, Peter changed diapers and folded laundry. Did things only a parent would want to do.

Without warning, he swept past her, carrying the clothes to Alex's cabin. Then within seconds, he was back for another load.

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, putting her hand on his arm. "I'll finish after you've gone."

"I'm not going anywhere." He shook off her hand and reached for a stack of sleepers.

Then he looked at her, and his eyes darkened to a deeper green. He took one hesitant step toward her, as though not trusting himself to be close.

"I don't want to hurt you, Jann," he said softly. "That's never been what I wanted."

"If you try to take Alex, that's exactly what you will be doing."

"He'll be better off with me."

"He's best where he is."

"I think we should have dinner together."

"Together?" she repeated stupidly.

Two tiny undershirts spilled from the pile in Peter's hand and landed on the floor. "Yes," he said, ignoring the fallen clothes.