'Looking for you.'
It was warm in the galley, and she was sure that was the reason she was suddenly feeling so lightheaded. It couldn't be a reaction to the way he was looking at her.
'Have you ever made soup before?'
She walked over to stand in front of him before giving her answer. Nathan leaned against the doorway, looking as relaxed as a panther about to spring.
'No,' she said. 'I didn't know how to make soup. I do now. It wasn't difficult.'
'Sara…'
'The men were all blaming me for Ivan's mishap. I had to do something to win their loyalty. Besides, I want my staff to like me.'
'Your staff?'
She nodded. 'Since you don't have a house and you don't have servants, well, you do own this ship, and so your crew must also be my staff. When they taste my soup they'll like me again.'
'Why do you care if they like you or not?' he asked.
He straightened away from the wall and moved closer to her. Hell, he thought, he was drawn to her like a drunk drawn to drink. It was all her fault for looking so damned sweet and pretty.
Her face was flushed from the heat in the galley. Strands of her curly hair were wet. He reached out and gently brushed a curl away from the side of her face. He seemed to be more surprised by the spontaneous touch than she was.
'Nathan, everyone wants to be liked.'
'I don't.'
She gave him a disgruntled look for disagreeing with her. He took another step toward her. His thighs touched hers. 'Sara?'
'Yes?'
'Do you still hurt because of last night?'
Her blush was instantaneous. She couldn't look him in the eye when she answered him but stared intently at his collarbone. 'It did hurt last night,' she whispered.
He tilted her face up with his thumb. 'That isn't what I asked you,' he said in a soft whisper.
'It isn't?'
'No,' he replied.
'Then what is it you wanted to know?'
She sounded out of breath to him. She needed some fresh air, he decided. Hell, he didn't want her fainting on him again. 'I want to know if you hurt now, Sara,' he said.
'No,' she answered. 'I don't hurt now.'
They stared at each other a long, silent minute. Sara thought he might want to kiss her, but she couldn't be sure. 'Nathan? You still haven't given me a proper greeting.'
She put her hands on the front of his shirt, closed her eyes, and waited.
'What the hell is a proper greeting?' he asked. He knew exactly what she wanted from him, but he wanted to see what she would do next.
She opened her eyes and frowned at him. 'You're supposed to kiss me.'
'Why?' he asked, baiting her again.
Her exasperation was obvious. 'Just do it,' she commanded.
Before he could ask another aggravating question she clasped the sides of his face with her hands and pulled his head down toward her. 'Oh, never mind,' she whispered 'I'll do it myself.'
He didn't offer any resistance. But he didn't take over the duty either. Sara placed a chaste kiss on his mouth, then leaned back. 'This would feel much better if you cooperated, Nathan. You're supposed to kiss me back.'
Her voice was low, sensual, as soft as her warm body pressed against his. A man could only take so much teasing. Nathan lowered his head and slowly rubbed his mouth over hers. He caught her sigh when he opened her mouth and deepened the kiss.
She was already melting in his arms. He was once again nearly undone by her easy response to his touch. His tongue dueled with hers, and he couldn't contain his low growl of pleasure.
When he finally pulled back from her she slumped against him. He couldn't stop himself from putting his arms around her and holding her tight. She smelled like roses and cinnamon.
'Who taught you how to kiss?' he demanded in a rough whisper. It was an illogical question, he supposed, given the fact that she'd been a virgin when he'd taken her to his bed, but he was compelled to ask anyway.
'You taught me how to kiss,' she answered.
'You never kissed anyone before me?'
She shook her head. His anger dissipated in a flash. 'If you don't like the way I kiss…' she began.
'I like it.'
She quit protesting.
He suddenly pulled completely away from her, grabbed hold of her hand, and dragged her over to the candles. He blew both flames out and then headed for the corridor.
'Nathan, I can't leave the galley,' she announced.
'You need a nap.'
'I what? I never take naps.'
'You do now.'
'But what about my lovely soup?'
'Damn it, Sara, I don't want you cooking again.'
She frowned at his broad back. Lord, he was bossy. 'I already explained why I took on this duty,' she muttered.
'Do you think you can win the men's loyalty with a bowl of slop?'
If he slowed down just a little, she thought, she would be able to kick him in the back of his legs. 'It isn't slop,' she shouted instead.
He didn't argue with her. He continued to drag her along all the way back to their cabin. She was a bit surprised when he followed her inside.
He shut the door behind him and bolted it.
'Turn around, Sara.'
She gave him a good frown for being so dictatorial, then did as he commanded. He was much quicker unbuttoning the gown than he had been the last time.
'I really don't want to have a nap,' she told him again.
He didn't quit prodding her until her gown fell to the floor. It still hadn't dawned on her that he really wasn't interested in forcing her to sleep. He stripped her down to her chemise, but when he tried to remove that garment she pushed his hands away.
Nathan stared at her a long minute. Her body was simply perfection to him. Her breasts were full, her waist narrow, and her legs long, shapely, exquisite.
His hot stare soon made her uncomfortable. Sara tugged on the straps of her chemise, trying without much success to conceal a little more of her breasts.
She quit feeling embarrassed when he unbuttoned his shirt. That action gained her full attention. 'Are you taking a nap, too?'
'I never take naps.'
He tossed his shirt aside, leaned back against the door, and began to pull his boots off. Sara backed up a space.
'You aren't just changing your clothes, are you?'
His grin was lopsided, endearing. 'No.'
'You don't want to…'
He didn't look at her when he answered. 'Oh, yes, I want to,' he drawled.
'No.'
His reaction was immediate. He stood to his full height and walked toward her. His hands were on his hips. 'No?'
