Seger, Maura (22 page)

She bit her lip, unable to look at him. "I think so. I'm not sure."

"Damn!"

The word, torn from him so spontaneously, could not have been more ill-chosen. Erin jerked away as though burned, her hands flying to her abdomen in an instinctively protective gesture.

"If you didn't want this to happen, you should have thought of it sooner. Even I know that babies are a natural outcome of what we've been doing so much of."

"Of course I want it. I just. . ."

"You certainly don't sound that way."

"I was surprised. You can hardly blame me for—"

"You're surprised?
How do you think I feel?"

"I don't know," Storm admitted somberly. "How do you feel?"

"I. . ." Erin broke off. She turned away from him, staring sightlessly at the gray sea beyond the porthole. Despite her robe, it felt very cold in the cabin. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

So softly that he could barely hear her, she murmured, "It's all so strange to me. The thought of a baby growing inside my body is miraculous . . . but frightening."

Storm longed to comfort her, but he sensed she would not accept his touch just then. Not while his angry denunciation still rang between them.

"That's why I wanted us to wait," he said quietly. "But now that it's done . . ."

Erin's back stiffened. Her indigo eyes glittered dangerously as she faced him. "Since you're obviously displeased by what's happened, just forget about it. I can take care of myself."

That was so patently absurd that Storm could not help but laugh. "Don't be stupid. Of course you can't."

"Oh, so now I'm stupid, am I? Last night I was the joy of your life. What a difference learning about the baby makes!"

"Don't throw my words back at me," Storm growled. "You're deliberately misunderstanding."

"No, I am not. Maybe I have been stupid. All that talk about loving me and being so eager to marry me lulled me into believing you would want the baby. But now I can see that I made a mistake."

"The only mistake you're making is right now." Her behavior bewildered him. He was torn between the desire to chastise her— impossible under any circumstances, but especially in her present condition—and the desperate need to hold and reassure her.

"Are you saying you're happy about the baby?"

Storm balked at resorting to an outright lie. The thought of a child coming so soon stunned him. After all the turmoil and tragedy of the last few years, he was ill-prepared to cope with the responsibilities of fatherhood. For the moment, it was all he could do to realize that he had found a woman he could happily spend the rest of his life with.

The fact that her pregnancy was his fault only heightened his dismay. How had a man of his experience managed to be so oblivious of the need for precautions? Unaccustomed to questioning his own feelings, he was bewildered by them. It was as though a stranger had suddenly taken control of his actions.

His refusal to answer seemed to confirm Erin's worst fears. In her anguished state, she could only conclude that the child who should have been a precious gift was instead unwanted by its own father. The love he had so ardently professed was hollow and meaningless. She had been a fool to be taken in by him, especially since he had every reason to want to punish her for her actions eight years before.

That thought reverberated through her sickeningly. Was all the joy and tenderness of the last few weeks nothing more than a trick? Had he intended from the beginning to hurt her like this?

Something of her fears must have shown on her ashen features, for Storm took a quick step toward her, grasping her by the shoulders. "I don't know what's going through your head, but whatever it is, you're dead wrong. I love you and I want you to be my wife. Yes, the baby is something of a shock. But I'll get used to the idea."

"Don't bother," Erin snapped. Her pride could not bear the thought that he would merely tolerate the child she already cherished. "I told you I can take care of myself, and I meant it. As soon as the
Emerald Isle
and the
Nantucket Moon
are ready, I'll sail home with them. You can just forget about me and the baby." A painful sneer distorted her soft mouth. "Even the most cautious men occasionally make mistakes. Chalk it up to experience."

Under any other circumstances, the look on Storm's face would have frozen her with fear. But she was too enmeshed in her own anguish to even notice the suddenly feral glitter of his eyes or the savage tightening of his mouth.

Rage such as he had never known before in his life roared through him. Her willful refusal to admit his love and her maddening threat to leave him were more than he could endure. His big hands were clenched into fists as he grabbed his boots and strode over to the door.

Slamming it open, he growled, "For your sake, and the baby's, I'd better not remain in the same room with you. At least not until you learn to curb your tongue and rein in your pride." Ominously he added, "Don't think for a moment that I will let you get away from me, Erin. Even were you not carrying my child, I would stop you. If I have to hold you prisoner, I will do so."

With a final damning glance at her rigid form, he stepped out into the corridor and yanked the door shut. Too late, she hurled herself after him. A harsh laugh reached her from the other side as the key turned in the lock and she was securely sealed in.

"Erin," Odetsu called softly, "are you feeling well enough to eat some breakfast?"

Turning over in the bunk where she had shed so many tears the night before, Erin moaned. A wave of nausea struck her. Dimly she remembered hearing that expectant women were prone to such upset. But having not yet experienced it for herself, she was unprepared for the intensity of the dizziness that assailed her. The slightest effort to raise her head made her want to retch.

"I don't think so, Odetsu," she called weakly. "Anyway, the door is locked from the outside."

"Davin-san gave me the key," her friend explained. The next moment she was bustling into the room, inspecting Erin's wan features with concern. "I will tell the cook to make tea and plain rice for you. That will settle your stomach."

"I doubt it. It seems to be doing cartwheels."

Odetsu smiled gently. "I've never heard that word before, but I can guess what it means. When I was carrying Saido, the mere thought of food was enough to make me ill."

"Then you know about. . . ?"

"Davin-san told us." At Erin's surprised look, she explained, "Takamori found him on deck late last night. I'm afraid he had drunk a bit more rum than is good for him. Anyway, after he settled down, he explained why you were locked in the cabin." A stern look touched her delicate features. "I am surprised at you, Erin. You and Davin-san love each other. How can you talk of leaving him when you are carrying his child?"

"But that is exactly why I have to leave," Erin said sadly. "He doesn't want the baby."

"Nonsense, of course he does. He just needs time to get used to the idea."

"I wish I could believe you. But he told me he wanted to wait several years before I got pregnant."

Odetsu smiled wryly. "He should have thought of that sooner."

"I'm sure he's sorry he didn't."

"Are you? It seems to me that Davin-san is far too intelligent and sensible a man to make such a mistake. But like most men, he has trouble understanding his own feelings. Just give him time and he'll come round."

As she spoke, Odetsu took a cool cloth and gently wiped Erin's flushed face. She was privately concerned about the younger girl's condition. Being confined to a small cabin with only her own unhappy thoughts for company was hardly good for an expectant mother. Added to that was the fact that the sea had turned unexpectedly choppy during the night. Her nausea was likely to worsen unless she could get up on deck and breathe fresh air.

"Erin, I must lock you in again while I go talk with the cook, because I promised Davin-san I would do so. But I will find him and tell him you cannot remain in here. You need exercise and sunshine. I'm sure he will understand."

"I don't want any favors from him. If he won't let me on deck, fine. At least I won't have to see him."

Odetsu shook her head ruefully. "We certainly know one thing about the baby already. With you for a mother and Davin-san for a father, he is guaranteed to be stubborn."

"I am not stubborn," Erin groused. "It's Storm who's so bullheaded he can't unbend an inch. He's the most obstinate, recalcitrant, infuriating man I've ever—"

"Do you have to talk so loud?" a deep voice inquired peevishly. Both women looked up, surprised to find the object of their discussion tottering into the room.

Erin's heart turned over. He looked decidedly the worse for wear. A night's growth of beard could not obscure the gray tautness of his features or the shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes. His shirt and trousers were rumpled and his hair clung in an unruly mass.

He had every appearance of being a man who had waged a long, hard conflict with himself. But Erin was determined not to be misled by that. She told herself his only struggle had been with a bottle of rum, and the bottle had clearly won.

"To what do I owe this unlooked-for honor?" she demanded icily.

Storm winced. Several dozen hammers were banging away inside his head. A furnace burned where his stomach had been and his legs felt as though they might give way under him at any moment.

Sitting down heavily at the foot of the bunk, he eyed her cautiously. "If you're going to keep shouting, I'll have to leave. As Odetsu may have mentioned, I had a drop too much to drink last night."

Erin laughed heartlessly. She couldn't deny a certain enjoyment of his condition. It made her own seem far pleasanter. "A drop? More like an ocean. You reek of the stuff."

"I'll take a bath after we talk. First, how are you feeling?"

"Marvelous. On top of the world. Top-notch."

"That bad, huh?"

Odetsu giggled. She put a hand over her mouth and tiptoed out of the room. Such a moment called for privacy.

Erin straightened up in the bed, ignoring the peculiar gyrations of her senses. "I told you. I am perfectly all right. Now, kindly go away."

Storm glared at her. He had spent an agonizing night berating himself for being such an unfeeling lout before being finally driven to drown his remorse in a rum bottle. He was in no mood to bandy words with the devastatingly beautiful woman he adored. "This happens to be my cabin too. Move over."

Erin gaped at him in disbelief. "I will not. If you think you can come in here and take over after what you said to me—"

"Sweet Lord, woman, have you no more compassion than to argue with a man in my condition?"

Now that he mentioned it, he did look as though he was about to collapse. Still reluctant, but unable to refuse him, Erin inched over to the other side of the bunk.

"All right. But don't you get any ideas about touching me. That's all over."

"Believe me," Storm groaned as he flopped down next to her, "if I tried, I'd only disappoint us both."

"You flatter yourself. It will be a cold day in hell before I seek pleasure with you again."

From beneath furled brows, baleful eyes glared at her. "Now it's my turn to give you a piece of advice. Don't think for a moment that you will have any chance to satisfy yourself with other men. I intend to keep you on a very short rein until we get this matter cleared up."

"How dare you!
You're even more witless than I thought if you imagine you can keep me imprisoned. I'll escape you, no matter what it takes."

"Then maybe I'd better make sure you don't want to," Storm growled, turning over swiftly to trap her beneath his body. The surge of pain that tore through him was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of feeling her slender form helpless in his arms.

"Witless, am I?" he taunted. "Then why is it you're on my ship, in my cabin"—a lean finger toyed with the gossamer thinness of her sleeping gown—"more or less naked in my bunk with my child growing inside you? It seems to me, my sweet, that if one of us has been foolish, it is you."

At the mention of the child, Erin flushed. She told herself she must be mistaken about the fiercely possessive gleam in his eyes. It was only the aftereffects of the rum. But there was no mistaking his intent when he abruptly pushed the covers aside and laid both his big hands on her abdomen.

Shivering beneath his touch, she could only stare in wonder as he murmured huskily, "You said it was both miraculous and frightening to be carrying a baby. But I want to know more than that. Tell me what it feels like."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Can you feel him moving?"

Despite herself, she laughed softly. "No, it's too early for that,"

"Oh . . . that reminds me. When do you think he will be born?"

"He?"

"Or she," Storm amended. The thought of a daughter pleased him easily as much as that of a son. Despite the vast quantities of rum he had swallowed, or perhaps because of them, he had managed to confront his true feelings on a previously unattained level. While he would hardly recommend the method, and had no intention of ever repeating it, he could not deny it had served its purpose.

With the arrival of morning, every throb of his head seemed to be telling him what an idiot he had been. Takamori's assurances that men were frequently such fools were small comfort. He had his work cut out for him if he were to have any chance of winning Erin's forgiveness. Reminding her that he could easily hold her prisoner was hardly the way to begin.

Gazing into her eyes, he repeated gently, "When do you think our child will be born?"

Erin tried to look away but could not manage it. Her throat was tight as she said, "In about seven months."

"Will it bother you if people guess he was conceived before we were married?"

"That's hardly an issue. I'm not going to marry you."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm—"

"Erin, we are both tired and not at our best. What do you say we postpone this discussion until a later time?"