Stormy Vows

by Iris Johansen

  For perhaps an hour she continued to watch with undiminished interest the goings-on at the roulette table before she, too, became restless. She looked down the table at Benjamin, hoping that he would also be ready to move on to another table. He looked quite content, however, his eyes fixed intently on the spinning wheel and a large stack of chips in front of him. He was winning heavily and would probably not even notice that she'd gone, she decided. She hadn't received more than a passing glance from any of the clientele of the casino. It should be safe enough for her to drift around by herself for a while.

  She faded away from the table and pushed her way through to the sidelines to decide where to go next. She spotted a dice table in the corner of the room and decided to start there. For the next thirty minutes she visited several tables, with gradually dwindling interest. It was with some relief and pleasure that she finally spotted Dominic at a table across the room.

  Jane started forward eagerly, only to stop abruptly after a few paces. The game Jake Dominic was playing was not confined to the cards in front of him. The ravishing Mexican dealer was leaning toward him with an unmistakable glint of invitation in her dark eyes as she murmured something to him that brought a cynical smile to his lips and a look of appraisal to his eyes. His eyes wandered leisurely over the woman's generous curves, lingering for a long moment on the cleavage that was blatantly displayed in the low-cut gown, before he gave the woman an answer that made her smile with sultry contentment.

  Jane felt a stab of pain so intense that it took her breath away. For a moment she stood there, her emotions raw and confused, before her mind clamped a protective shield over the hurt and started to provide her with a rationalization for that revealing moment of agony.

  Of course she had felt something when she'd seen Jake with that woman, she told herself. They had grown so close in the companionable evenings alone together that she knew a certain sense of possession. It was natural that she would feel a trifle bereft when Dominic showed the unmistakable signs of desire for another, even though the relationship he was contemplating with the sexy woman was far different from the casual friendship he had with Jane. She should have known that a virile man of Jake Dominic's reputation would immediately seek out a woman willing to satisfy his desires when the opportunity presented itself. It had been surprise, not pain, that had shaken her in that first moment, she told herself firmly.

  She turned away, carefully avoiding looking at the intimacy of the couple at the blackjack table. Jake would not welcome a third party at this stage, she thought unhappily. Abruptly all pleasure was drained from the evening, and the scene that had been fascinating a few minutes before was now merely sordid.

  She drifted over to the sidelines again, and leaned against the wall to watch the action in the smoky room with only casual interest. She was conscious now of the heat of the room. Her sweater and the loose coat that enveloped her were stifling, and she could feel a bead of perspiration form at the nape of her neck.

  Her gaze ran casually around the room and then stopped abruptly. There was a small, nearly hidden door at the far end of the long, mirrored bar, which she had overlooked in her first glance around the room. It obviously led outside to the rear of the building, and as she looked, a steady stream of gamblers wandered through the door. None ever returned, though she watched carefully for another ten minutes. Her curiosity was irresistibly piqued.

  She straightened slowly and moved forward, her gaze fixed in fascination on that mysterious door.

  Jake Dominic looked indifferently at the card the Mexican woman had just dealt him, before lifting his eyes to gaze with slightly more appreciation at the generous cleavage revealed by the dealer's low-cut gown. Then his forehead creased in a puzzled frown when his glance passed from those pleasant pastures to drift restlessly about the room. The crowd had thinned now, and he could see Benjamin, still at the roulette table. But where the devil was Jane?

  Suddenly there was a loud commotion at the far end of the bar as a short, stocky Mexican came bursting through the door shouting something to the bartender and waving his arms wildly. The bartender grabbed a baseball bat from under the bar and ran out the door, followed closely by the man who had summoned him.

  Jake hurriedly threw his cards on the table and crossed the room to the roulette table in seconds.

  He grabbed Marc Benjamin by the arm and asked tersely, “Where the hell is Jane?”

  “I thought she was with you,” Benjamin said, surprised.

  Jake had a chill of foreboding as he remembered the brilliant lights that surrounded the casino. The lights in the parking lot were self-explanatory, but what about the lighting in the rear?

  He reached across the table and grasped the dealer's arm as she reached out to take in the house's winnings. “That door by the bar,” he asked urgently. “Where does it lead?”

  The woman shrugged her bare shoulders. “Pelea de gallos,” she answered indifferently.

  “Pelea de gallos!” He started for the door at a dead run. “Cock-fight!” he shouted over his shoulder to Benjamin, and heard a violent exclamation. The captain caught up with him as Jake went through the door.

  The scene that greeted their eyes was a wild melee of shouting, angry Mexicans who had left their wooden spectator benches and gathered around the pit arena in the center of the clearing. The object of their rage seemed to be the small figure lying on the hard-packed dirt in the center of the arena who was virtually covered by the bodies of several furious men, their fists swinging as they competed with one another in their attempts to do the worst possible damage to the red-haired gringo beneath them.

  “My God! It's Jane!” Jake breathed, and without thinking he dashed forward, pushing and shoving through the crowd till he reached the pile of bodies. Lifting and pulling the men off her with frantic strength, he finally uncovered the dust- and blood-covered body of Jane Smith clutching a huge glossy black cock in her arms in a deathlike grip.

  “Are you all right?” he shouted as he warded off a punch to his midsection from a burly man who didn't appreciate having his revenge thwarted.

  Jane nodded as she got shakily to her knees and then to her feet, while Jake and Marc Benjamin, on either side of her, kept the crowd back by the primitive but effective method of punching whatever vulnerable spot on their antagonists' bodies presented itself.

  “Let's get out of here!” Jake shouted, as he saw the bartender with the baseball bat edging closer.

  They each grabbed one of Jane's arms and rushed forward, knocking heads and punching faces indiscriminately as they progressed slowly across the clearing to the side of the building. When they broke clear of the crowd, they ran desperately for the waiting taxi, with a stream of shouting men hard on their heels.

  They reached the taxi and piled hurriedly into the back seat. Jake shouted, “Vamanos!” in such a commanding voice that the startled taxi driver immediately reversed the car with a screech of tires, almost running over the first vanguard of their pursuers.

  This resulted in another burst of threatening curses and fist shaking, as the driver sped out of the parking lot with his foot jammed down on the accelerator and his frightened eyes on the angry mob in his rearview mirror. He continued to drive with breakneck speed down the hill, half muttering prayers for himself and half curses against the crazy gringos who had gotten him into this.

  Jake turned to Jane, his expression grim. “My God, you've still got that damn cock,” he said disgustedly, looking with disfavor at the beady-eyed bird in Jane's arms. “I gather that revolting creature is the reason for all this?”

  Jane nodded, her breathing gradually steadying. “It was terrible.” She shuddered, her golden eyes darkening to topaz at the memory. “Those horrible men were making them fight with those hideous spurs on their feet. They were bleeding and hurt and nobody cared. I tried to make them stop, but they wouldn't listen.”

  “So you grabbed one of the birds in the ring to assure that they would,” Benjamin surmised, sh
aking his head incredulously.

  “It was the only thing I could do,” she explained simply. “But it made them awfully angry.”

  “I can imagine,” Jake said dryly. “A good bit of money rides on those birds.”

  “Well, I'm glad I did it,” Jane said defiantly. “They were wrong to be so cruel.”

  “There are thousands of people doing cruel things in this world.” Jake said caustically. “Are you going to try to right all their wrongs?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I had to do it,” she repeated huskily.

  “Do you know that you almost got yourself killed back there?” Jake asked through clenched teeth.

  “Leave her alone, Jake,” Marc said with rough kindness. “She's had enough for one night.”

  “I could break her neck,” Jake said savagely, his gaze taking in her bruised and bleeding lip and her left eye, which was darkening rapidly. “Just look at her, damn it.”

  Jane shrank back against the solid shoulder of the captain. When she spoke, her lips trembled pitifully. “I'm sorry,” she apologized miserably. “I didn't mean to cause any trouble.”

  “You are trouble,” Jake said tersely as the taxi pulled up at the dock where the launch waited.

  He jumped out of the taxi and half assisted, half jerked Jane out of the car. He reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills, which he handed to the driver with a curt “Gracias.” The taxi driver's glower turned to a broad smile as he saw the size of the bills. He touched the brim of his wide straw hat in a respectful salute and drove off with a triumphant roar.

  Meanwhile, Marc Benjamin had exited from the other door and had lithely jumped down into the launch and started the motor.

  As Jake lifted Jane into the boat, the captain asked, above the low throb of the engine. “You're not going to let her take that cock on the Sea Breeze, surely?”

  “What the hell do you suggest we do with it?” Jake asked bitterly. “Toss it into the sea? Jane would probably dive in after it.”

  “We could always give it to your chef and see what he could do with it,” Marc drawled wryly. “It would certainly be a challenge to his expertise.”

  “No!” Jane cried, shocked. “You wouldn't.” Her arms tightened protectively around the rooster.

  “Of course we wouldn't,” Jake said disgustedly. “He's joking, for heaven's sake.” He turned to Benjamin. “Get us back to the Sea Breeze, Marc, or, so help me, I may toss them both into the sea!”

  When they arrived back at the yacht, they were assisted aboard by a surprised and curious young seaman who tried not to stare too obviously at the disreputable-looking trio. Both Jake and Marc showed the signs of the violent free-for-all they'd been engaged in. Jake sported a bruise on his cheekbone that was rapidly turning a livid purple, and Benjamin's usually immaculate uniform jacket was torn raggedly from the lapel to the shoulder seam.

  Jake carefully took the cock from Jane's arms and handed it to the seaman. “Be careful of the spurs,” he cautioned, ignoring the man's dumbfounded expression. “Take him down to the storeroom and give him feed and water.”

  “I'll do it,” Jane offered. “He's my responsibility.”

  “The hell you will,” Jake said annoyedly. “You're coming down to my cabin so that I can have a look at those bruises. Coming, Marc?”

  Marc Benjamin shook his head ruefully. “I'd better go to my own cabin and make some repairs. I'll be along later.”

  Jake nodded briefly and, taking Jane by the elbow, propelled her ahead of him, leaving the seaman to look after them, wondering blankly what the devil one fed a fighting cock.

  Jake opened the door of his cabin and pushed her ahead of him into the room, flipping on the lights as he did so. Jane looked around her with interest. The night of her intrusion, she'd had no opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the master cabin. The thick carpet, she noted, was a silver gray, as were the shades on the bedside lamps. The spread that graced the king-sized bed was black velvet. The simple, elegant decor was oddly ascetic, considering its owner's worldliness. The only glaring note in the understated richness of the cabin was her own graffiti scribbled on the wall across from the bed.

  Jane winced. “Can't you cover that up until you can have the panel replaced?” she asked.

  Jake followed her glance and shrugged. “Marc offered to have his men make some temporary repairs, but I told him to leave it alone. I'm learning to live with it.”

  He strode into the bathroom, pulling her along with him. Once there, he lifted her onto the vanity counter while he rummaged in the medicine cabinet for unguentine and iodine.

  “This isn't really necessary, you know,” Jane said gently, watching his lean, taut face. “I'm sure you and Captain Benjamin took more punishment than I did. Those crazy men were hitting one another more than they were hitting me.”

  “How very comforting,” Jake jeered. “So instead of broken bones and internal injuries, you only have severe cuts and bruises.” Despite the anger in his voice, his hands were incredibly gentle as he washed the cut on her lip with a cold cloth. “At the rate you're going, you'll be lucky if you live to be twenty-one.”

  She smiled tremulously. “I promise that I'll be more careful in the future,” she said lightly. “At least until the cruise is over. I fully intend to make sure you get your money's worth in labor to pay for that panel.”

  “Damn the panel!” Jake spoke harshly, his black eyes flaming. “Do you have any idea what would have happened if that mob in the pit tonight had discovered that you were a woman?”

  Her golden eyes flew to his face in bewilderment. “You mean…” she whispered, and blushed uncontrollably. “But they were so angry.…”

  “My God, Jane!” Jake said savagely. “Anger can be as much of an aphrodisiac as any other stimulant. Don't you know that?”

  She shook her head, her eyes suddenly frightened. “No, I didn't know that,” she answered simply.

  “It figures,” he said shortly. “For a girl who's lived all over the world, you've picked up relatively little common sense. That grandfather of yours must have kept you tied up.”

  “Everything happened too fast,” she replied defensively. “I didn't have time to think and analyze every movement I made. I just knew that I had to stop them before they killed those two birds.”

  Jake carefully applied iodine to the cut lip before answering. His tone was grim. “I should have chained you to my wrist before I took you into that place.”

  Jane dropped her eyes. “You would have found that a trifle inconvenient,” she said obscurely, remembering the sultry beauty at the blackjack table.

  His eyes narrowed. “What's that supposed to mean?” he asked, critically examining her eye. “You're going to have a beaut of a shiner,” he commented.

  “Nothing,” Jane murmured, as he tilted her chin and dabbed gently with the cold cloth at her swollen eye.

  “You should never try to lie, redhead,” he said dryly. “You're clear as glass. Now, answer me.”

  “It's just that I saw you with that woman,” Jane said awkwardly. “I'm sorry if my getting into trouble interrupted you.”

  “What woman?” Jake asked, puzzled. Then his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Oh, that woman.” He threw the cloth into the sink and uncapped the small jar of unguentine and started smoothing the salve around her eye. “We hadn't reached the point where an interruption would have caused me any really traumatic frustration.”

  Jane felt a rush of inexplicable relief at the knowledge that he had obviously forgotten the woman existed until she mentioned her.

  “She was very beautiful,” Jane said tentatively.

  “Luscious, quite luscious,” he agreed absently. Then he grinned mockingly. “What are you hinting at, brat? Are you under the same impression as Marc, that I can't survive the cruise without a woman in my bed?”

  “Well, you do have that reputation,” Jane said demurely, her golden eyes dancing, “but you seem to be holding up very well, for a s
atyr.”

  “You know, I'm tempted to make that black eye into a matched set,” he said in a conversational tone. “Not only do you deprive me of sexual solace, but you have the supreme insolence to taunt me with it.”

  She giggled, and he flashed her a smile of such warmth that her heart skipped a beat. “Laugh, will you?” he said with mock ferocity. “I ought to make you take the luscious Consuelo's place in my bed tonight.”

  She made a face. “You're not that hard up,” she said with an impudent grin.

  “Well, it would be a bit like taking a prizefighter to bed,” he granted dryly. “But you know how we satyrs are—anybody would do in a clinch,” he punned.

  She groaned. “That's terrible, Jake. I think I'd prefer the black eye.”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “You're lucky I can still joke after a night like this one. For a while it was a draw whether the mob would kill you before I did.”

  “Oh, my God, I haven't thanked you!” she gasped, horrified. “You and Captain Benjamin probably saved my life, and I didn't even tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  “You were a little busy at the time,” Jake said mockingly. “For that matter, so were Marc and I.”

  “And you were hurt,” she cried remorsefully, her fingers gently touching the bruise on his cheekbone. Impulsively she reached up and pressed a fairy-light kiss on the bruised flesh. Then she drew back in a panic of shyness.

  There was a curious flicker deep in Jake Dominic's eyes, but his voice was light. “Do you always kiss to make well? It's not a half-bad idea. Perhaps I'll try it.”

  His hands slowly reached up and cradled her face tenderly. She forgot to breathe as she stared wide-eyed up into the dark intentness of his eyes. “Shut your eyes, brat,” he said huskily. “I'm about to conduct a medical experiment.”

  She obediently closed her eyes, and was immediately rewarded with a kiss on the lips that wooed and caressed like the first gentle breath of spring. It was followed by a butterfly kiss on the closed lid of her bruised eye and then another, just as light, on the other lid.