No problem. She would still have her little one. She only hoped that her child would inherit her creativity and his father’s brains. A nice balance.

Lying back on the pillow in Jack’s “bunk”—which happened to be queen-size—she allowed the steady rock of the boat to lull her into bliss, but it did nothing to bring about sleep. Oh, well. She would just try to imagine the man who had fathered her child.

She saw only Jack Dunlap.

If only she could get him out of her mind. But how could she? The man was sleeping in the next cabin wearing who knew what. Maybe nothing. That consideration brought about both chills and steam running helter-skelter through her body.

How silly she’d been to think that she could actually seduce him. They certainly hadn’t taught her that technique in school. How ridiculous to believe that he would fall into her bed with the bat of an eyelash. If she chose to consider she couldn’t even entice a man who’d obviously been by himself for months, then she would definitely be depressed. So she just wouldn’t think about it at all.

But she couldn’t quit thinking about him, his handsome features, his sober demeanor, his occasional smile that could knock the floor out from under her if she hadn’t had good sense to ground her. Not to mention his strong arms earlier on the deck. Boy, had he smelled great. He’d felt great, too. And come to think of it, he’d kissed even better.

Though he hadn’t taken her up on her offer for a little night magic, he had shown some signs of life when, for reasons unbeknownst to her, he had decided to give her mouth a try. Maybe he’d been trying to shut her up.

Rolling to her side, Lizzie curled up into a ball and attempted to generate some heat. Thoughts of the good captain’s lips aided her somewhat, but she could still use some extra covers. Might not hurt to tell Ahab good-night since an hour ago he’d pointed her in the general direction of the bedroom then left her alone. She didn’t like being alone.

On that thought, she slipped out of bed and padded into the adjacent living area. The room was shrouded in darkness, the boat continued to sway and she accidentally knocked her knee on the sofa’s arm.

She stifled her urge to yell out in pain for fear that she would startle Jack, and he might have found more bullets.

“Are you awake?” she whispered.

No answer.

“Ahab?” she called, this time a bit louder.

Still no answer.

Having somewhat adjusted to the limited light, she moved toward the sofa now made into a bed and used her hands to feel for Jack, a rather pleasant prospect. He wasn’t there.

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