A Woman With Secrets. Inglath Cooper
“How long have you been like this?”
“I just now woke up this way.”
She barely finished the sentence before she jumped to her feet and leaned over the rail again, gagging.
He went to the galley and wet a towel, returning to offer it to her along with a small bottle of pills. “Take one of these,” he said. “It won’t help for a while since you’re already sick, but it will eventually.”
He removed the lid and shook one into his palm, then held out a glass of water for her.
Hand shaking, she took it, forcing the pill down. “Can’t you just throw me overboard?” she asked.
He looked down at her for a moment, then said, “As a matter of fact, I’d be happy to.”
CHAPTER FIVE
A little help is better than a lot of pity.
—Celtic Proverb
LESS THAN TWO minutes later, Kate found herself being lowered into the water on an inflatable life raft. She’d followed his directions, letting him fasten a life vest around her, then guiding her into the dingy, not caring that she wore nothing more than a thin cotton nightgown or that her skin probably had the hue of green cheese in the moonlight. She was just too sick to care.
Once the raft reached the water, he buckled his own life vest and jumped over the side, tying the dinghy to the Ginny, then reaching a hand toward her and saying, “Come on, I’ll help you in.”
“This seems kind of crazy,” she said.
“It’s the only thing that will help until that medicine takes effect.”
Intent only on escaping the nausea threatening to consume her once more, she shimmied over the side and into the arms of a man she’d known less than twelve hours. She forced herself not to think about what might be lurking in the inky depths below them.
The water felt cool. Too lightheaded to hold on to the raft, Kate leaned against him, her back to his chest, his right arm around her waist, his left holding on to the raft. Her nightgown floated up and made a lily pad on the water, leaving her legs bare against his.
She couldn’t find the energy to protest.
“Give it a few minutes,” he said. “You should start to feel better soon, Ms. Winthrop—”
“It’s Kate,” she corrected him, perversely annoyed that he’d continued to address her that way even though she’d never asked him to do otherwise.
“You should feel better soon, Kate,” he amended, emphasis on her name.
She breathed in the cool night air, willing the nausea to recede. Eventually, it did, enough that she could open her eyes and stare up at the star-dotted sky without that same wretched feeling of sickness. “This is horrible,” she said, the words weak and barely audible.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding a shade more sympathetic than he had a few moments ago. “Never had it before?”
She shook her head. A few seconds passed before she managed, “How did you know this would help?”
“On my first ocean dive, we went out right after breakfast. Everyone on board was ill, including me. The dive master made us all get in the water even though we were too sick to move. Ended up with a sea full of cornflakes, but it worked eventually.”
Kate moaned, an unexpected bubble of laughter breaking free from her aching throat.
“Sorry for the visual.”
“At least I’m still alive enough to laugh. A few minutes ago, I was beginning to wonder.”
He chuckled beside her ear, the sound unexpected and somehow soothing. “You don’t seem the type to let a little seasickness get you down.”
As the dizziness lessened, and the nausea remained at bay, she became aware of the arm around her waist, the chest to her back, the strong legs against hers beneath the water.
Suddenly, she had the wherewithal to feel some embarrassment for her predicament. The situation felt intimate. As intimate as two people could be when one of them had just spent the last hour heaving her insides out.
Reaching for the raft, she slipped free of his arm and turned to face him. “I feel a little better now, Captain—”
“Cole,” he said.
“Captain Cole,” she corrected with a half smile.
He smiled then, too, a real smile. It beamed a shaft of awareness straight through her. Along with it came the knowledge that a sheet of paper wouldn’t fit between them in their current position. She kicked her feet to insert a little distance.
“Stay where you are,” he said. “I don’t want you fainting on me.”
Imagining herself unconscious in the ink-black ocean, she did as he said, despite her overly sensitized body. “Thank you. For helping me.”
“You’re welcome.”
The night hung dark and endless around them. They floated in silence for a long time while she battled with the desire to extricate herself from this awkward situation and the realization that getting back on the boat probably meant getting sick again. She chose what seemed the lesser of two evils and stayed where she was.
“So how do you know Tyler?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“He’s my lawyer. And friend.”
Cole didn’t say anything for a few moments. She sensed the unspoken question and said, “I’m also good friends with Peg. His wife.”
“Ah. So what made him think you wanted a vacation like this?”
She started to say she hadn’t wanted a vacation like this, but found herself being honest with him. “I actually talked him into selling me their tickets. I’m kind of at a crossroads. Some time away seemed like a good thing.”
“And is it?”
“I’ll file that under ‘remains to be seen’,” she said, a little surprised by the question. “I’ve taken up enough of your night. You don’t have to stay out here with me. If you want to get back on—”
“And leave you to the sharks?” he said.
She jerked her head up. “Sharks?”
“Just kidding,” he said. “It’s rare to see one in this area.”
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“And besides,” he added, “maybe we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot earlier, but do you really think I’d leave you out here by yourself?”
“I guess not,” she said.
“I’d be liable if anything happened to you.”
“Of course,” she said, feeling suddenly deflated by the obvious explanation.
A LITTLE OVER an hour later, Cole helped Kate back onto the boat, wondering what had possessed him to put himself in this position. She’d been sick, and his only thought had been to help her. He’d then spent a half hour in the ocean with his arm around her waist, calling himself a select range of names for getting involved. He’d never known anyone to die of seasickness, and besides if Harry had woken up and found him in the water with her, he’d never hear the end of it.
He cut the thought off there, leaving the raft in the water for now and telling himself the sooner he got her back to her cabin the better.
She unbuckled the vest and shrugged out of it. The white cotton gown was now plastered to her skin, the fabric clearly outlining the shape of her body.
He quickly averted his gaze, the night air noticeably warmer on his face.