Fleming! What the hell's the matter with you? She's just a girl, for Pete's sake. If you're not careful, you 're going to turn into a dirty old man.
Yet he couldn't deny his response. She had felt exactly right in his arms, as though she'd been made for him alone. And that was what scared him. He had known many women, but never in his life had he wanted one as desperately as he had wanted Joanna.
The waiter topped up his coffee cup. Without thinking, Sean snatched it up, downed half the contents in one long swallow and gasped as the scalding brew seared his throat. Cursing under his breath, he returned the cup to its saucer just as Joanna took her seat on the opposite side of the table.
Anger, resentment and another emotion he didn't care to put a name to, gripped Sean at the sight of her. Her skin glowed and her hazel eyes were clear and direct. There were no dark circles under them, no drawn look. Dressed in a yellow sundress that left her tanned shoulders bare, her glossy hair pulled back at the sides and secured with white and yellow combs, she looked annoyingly fresh and lovely. It was obvious that Joanna hadn't spent a sleepless night.
"Good morning, Sean," she said politely.
Sean's mouth firmed, but before he could reply the waiter materialized beside her and filled her cup with coffee. When he had taken her order and disappeared Joanna folded her hands on the table and looked directly into Sean's eyes.
"Before you get angry all over again, I just want to say one thing. I'm sorry."
Surprise darted through Sean, but the only sign he gave was the infinitesimal narrowing of his eyes.
"I shouldn't have followed you on this trip. I realize that now," Joanna continued in a soft, serious voice. "But I promise you, for the rest of the cruise I'll do my best to stay out of your way."
Her discomfort was obvious, but there was determination there, too. A part of Sean admired the courage and strength of character it took to make the apology. But, dammit! He'd just spent the better part of the night agonizing over her and that damned kiss, and her freshness and composure were galling. For once, his lazy insouciance deserted him.
"Oh, sure." Sean's look was as deliberately skeptical as his tone, but Joanna met it squarely, one brow lifting.
"I'm sorry. That's the best I can do. I can't very well get off the ship in the middle of the ocean. I don't walk on water, you know."
Sean's admiration deepened, but he hid it well. "I don't suppose you'd consider getting off at St. Thomas and flying home?"
Hurt flickered in Joanna's eyes, but her steady gaze never wavered. "No, I wouldn't. But I promise I won't pester you anymore." Her chin tilted a bit higher at Sean's derisive snort, and she added with the barest trace of annoyance, "I've already asked the purser if I could change to another table, but he said it was too late. So, I'm afraid at meals we'll just have to make the best of the situation."
Sean just looked at her, his expression unyielding. After a moment she lowered her eyes. He watched her pick up her cup and take a sip of coffee. Then she folded her hands in her lap and gazed off into the distance. Only the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat betrayed her nervousness.
Her pride was evident in the tilt of her chin, in her stiff posture, yet she still looked like a defenseless waif. Even though he knew she'd brought the situation on herself, after a moment Sean began to feel churlish. Exhaling heavily, he raked a hand through his hair and let it slide down the back of his head to massage the taut muscles in his neck.
"Look, Joanna," he began, frowning, "About last ni—"
But the statement was never finished, for at that moment the Wrights and Tony Farrell arrived.
"Good morning, you two," Mary said, slipping into the seat beside Joanna. "Looks like you're the early birds."
Joanna looked up eagerly, a smile of pure relief lighting her face. "Good morning."
Battling his frustration, Sean greeted them
Yet he couldn't deny his response. She had felt exactly right in his arms, as though she'd been made for him alone. And that was what scared him. He had known many women, but never in his life had he wanted one as desperately as he had wanted Joanna.
The waiter topped up his coffee cup. Without thinking, Sean snatched it up, downed half the contents in one long swallow and gasped as the scalding brew seared his throat. Cursing under his breath, he returned the cup to its saucer just as Joanna took her seat on the opposite side of the table.
Anger, resentment and another emotion he didn't care to put a name to, gripped Sean at the sight of her. Her skin glowed and her hazel eyes were clear and direct. There were no dark circles under them, no drawn look. Dressed in a yellow sundress that left her tanned shoulders bare, her glossy hair pulled back at the sides and secured with white and yellow combs, she looked annoyingly fresh and lovely. It was obvious that Joanna hadn't spent a sleepless night.
"Good morning, Sean," she said politely.
Sean's mouth firmed, but before he could reply the waiter materialized beside her and filled her cup with coffee. When he had taken her order and disappeared Joanna folded her hands on the table and looked directly into Sean's eyes.
"Before you get angry all over again, I just want to say one thing. I'm sorry."
Surprise darted through Sean, but the only sign he gave was the infinitesimal narrowing of his eyes.
"I shouldn't have followed you on this trip. I realize that now," Joanna continued in a soft, serious voice. "But I promise you, for the rest of the cruise I'll do my best to stay out of your way."
Her discomfort was obvious, but there was determination there, too. A part of Sean admired the courage and strength of character it took to make the apology. But, dammit! He'd just spent the better part of the night agonizing over her and that damned kiss, and her freshness and composure were galling. For once, his lazy insouciance deserted him.
"Oh, sure." Sean's look was as deliberately skeptical as his tone, but Joanna met it squarely, one brow lifting.
"I'm sorry. That's the best I can do. I can't very well get off the ship in the middle of the ocean. I don't walk on water, you know."
Sean's admiration deepened, but he hid it well. "I don't suppose you'd consider getting off at St. Thomas and flying home?"
Hurt flickered in Joanna's eyes, but her steady gaze never wavered. "No, I wouldn't. But I promise I won't pester you anymore." Her chin tilted a bit higher at Sean's derisive snort, and she added with the barest trace of annoyance, "I've already asked the purser if I could change to another table, but he said it was too late. So, I'm afraid at meals we'll just have to make the best of the situation."
Sean just looked at her, his expression unyielding. After a moment she lowered her eyes. He watched her pick up her cup and take a sip of coffee. Then she folded her hands in her lap and gazed off into the distance. Only the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat betrayed her nervousness.
Her pride was evident in the tilt of her chin, in her stiff posture, yet she still looked like a defenseless waif. Even though he knew she'd brought the situation on herself, after a moment Sean began to feel churlish. Exhaling heavily, he raked a hand through his hair and let it slide down the back of his head to massage the taut muscles in his neck.
"Look, Joanna," he began, frowning, "About last ni—"
But the statement was never finished, for at that moment the Wrights and Tony Farrell arrived.
"Good morning, you two," Mary said, slipping into the seat beside Joanna. "Looks like you're the early birds."
Joanna looked up eagerly, a smile of pure relief lighting her face. "Good morning."
Battling his frustration, Sean greeted them
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