Children of the Sea 02 - Sea Fever

yesterday. Anyway, I’m almost done.”
     
    Dylan set down his bag. “Give it to me, then.”
     
    “I don’t think so.”
     
    “Regina.” He gripped the handle just above her hand, humor in his voice and temper in his eyes, hot and real and so close she could have kissed him. “You really want to get into a tug of war with me over a broom?”
     
    She thought about it. “No.”
     
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    “All right, then.”
     
    With a sigh, she released the broom. He swept the floor. She erased the day’s specials from the board.
     
    “Thanks for taking Nick out on your boat,” she offered. “It was all he could talk about all night.”
     
    “We had a good time.” Dylan emptied the dustpan into the trash.
    “I’ll take you out tomorrow.”
     
    Regina wiped her chalky fingers on her apron. “Can’t. I have work.”
     
    “You can’t work all the time.”
     
    He followed her back to the kitchen and hung the broom in the mop closet. That closet . . . Regina suppressed a shiver.
     
    Dylan frowned. “You look done in.”
     
    “I’m fine. Tired.” She dragged up a smile. “Morning sickness seems to be hitting hard and early this time around.”
     
    “You are sick?”
     
    His instant concern should have been gratifying. But she didn’t want him hanging around because he felt sorry for her. “I’m fine,” she repeated.
     
    “Is it the baby?”
     
    “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Worry sharpened her nerves and her voice.
    “I have cramps, okay?” Guys hated cramps. “I’ve had them all day.”
     
    “Tell me what to do,” he said.
     
    If she had to tell him, what good was that?
     
    “Nothing. I’ve seen the doctor. I don’t need you to play nurse.”
     
    He looked at her steadily. Silent. Willing. And completely clueless.
     
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    Emotionally arrested at thirteen, she thought. No one to teach him.
    To touch him. Ever.
     
    She sighed. “I could use a hug.”
     
    He put his arms around her, awkward as a boy at a sixth-grade dance.
     
    She let her head drop on a man’s strong chest for the first time since she was three years old. She wasn’t used to leaning on people. On men.
     
    She closed her eyes. He smelled like the sea.
     
    They stood in the center of the kitchen, lightly linked, until by degrees their breathing meshed and matched, until he’d warmed her with his body. She’d observed before that his temperature was hotter than hers.
     
    Gradually, her fears and worries, her annoyance and loneliness, slipped away. Her heartbeat quickened. His chest expanded. She could feel his erection growing long and hard against her stomach. Her hands fisted in his shirt at his back.
     
    “I have something for you,” he said.
     
    She smiled without opening her eyes. “I noticed.”
     
    His amusement stirred her hair. “Not that. Not only that.”
     
    He eased her away from him, patting his pockets like another man searching for his keys or a lighter. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and pulled it out: a fine gold chain with a single pearl suspended in a glowing twist of metal.
     
    A single, really beautiful, very large pearl.
     
    Regina sucked in her breath. She put her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t snatch it from him. She’d warned Nick repeatedly about the dangers of accepting gifts from strangers. Not that Dylan was a stranger any longer. But . . .
     
    “Take it,” he said. “You need a chain to replace the one that was broken.”
     
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    “A chain, fine. This is . . .”
     
    Too beautiful. Too much. Too painfully reminiscent of the kind of gift a man gave a woman he loved.
     
    “It was my mother’s,” Dylan said. “It may have power to protect you, as your cross protects you.”
     
    “Oh.” Her hands itched for it. “That’s very . . . practical.”
     
    His eyes gleamed. “I hoped you would think so.”
     
    She dug her crucifix from her pocket and threaded it on the chain with trembling fingers. The rounded pearl and the glowing cross slid together with a faint ching.
     
    “Thank you,” Regina said. “It’s beautiful.”
     
    She looked at the two charms lying together in her palm and then up at Dylan. Two bright spots of emotion burned on his cheekbones.
     
    “I need your help to put it on.”
     
    “I can do that. Turn around.”
     
    She did, lifting her short hair out of the way. She felt the fumbling brush of his fingertips and then a warm, brief touch that might have been his mouth. Her heart moved into her