Free Gentle Pirate by Jayne Castle Page B

Simon demanded, pulling back to get a look at her face.
    "The thought of you bashing Jim Talbot! A typical Marine approach to the situation! Still, it might have been interesting to see him try and talk you out of beating him up on the grounds that you had both been comrades in arms! He was big. too, but not quite as large as you. You probably could have crunched him, but, then again, maybe not. He used to be proud of the fact that he didn't mind flghting dirty!"
    "What Marine isn't?" Simon smiled smoothly, one large finger flicking the hint of a tear away from the corner of her overly bright eye. The silver of the hook gleamed for a moment in the morning sun as he lowered his arms.
    Kirsten shook her head, grimly aware that she never would understand the male approach to life. At least, not the approach of very large, macho types such as ex-Marines!
    "So Talbot put a lot of stock in the fact that he had been a Marine, did he?" Simon went on musingly, apparently unaware of Kirsten's disgust.
    "I think his time in the service was the only thing that ever meant anything at all to him," she sighed. "All of his other emotions seemed superficial, almost falsely dramatic, like that hint in the letter that he might not ever see me again. But he really did care about the Marines." Kirsten tossed one braid back over a shoulder, amazed to find some of her earlier resentment against Simon disappearing. He was the first person she had ever told about Jim Talbot and after the past months of silence, it was a relief to talk it out. Even her father had never heard the full story.
    "Are you ready to eat now that you've completed the inquisition?" she asked on a carefully flippant note.
    "I'm starving. In all fairness I ought to warn you that I didn't get this size from eating a slice of toast and a cup of coffee in the mornings, which is probably what you subsist on." Simon responded lightly, a crooked little smile touching his mouth. It was astounding, Kirsten thought inconsequentially, how many of his smiles actually did reach his eyes. Yesterday she had been quite certain none of them ever did.
    "Is that a hint that I'm supposed to use a couple of extra eggs in the omelets?" she demanded darkly, grateful to be able to get onto another subject and put the past behind her again.
    "Umm. And lots of toast with jam and butter. I'll set the table," he added, opening drawers until he found the one he wanted. "Aha! I thought I remembered seeing the silverware when I was picking up this morning!"
    "I-I haven't thanked you for what you did in here." She waved in the general direction of the living room, concentrating on counting out the eggs she needed. "It was nice of you to get some of that stuff off the floor and back where it belonged." It took an effort to thank him, but Kirsten was aware she owed him that much.
    "It was the least I could do after making use of your couch last night. Although my back may never be the same." he added reflectively as he set the napkins and glasses on the small round kitchen table, which had been designed to resemble an old-fashioned ice-cream-parlor table.
    "You have only yourself to blame," Kirsten began severely as she whipped the eggs furiously.
    "But, Kirsten, honey! You made it very plain that I wasn't welcome to share your bed and I didn't care for the idea of sleeping on the floor…" He caught her eye with an expectant look. "Maybe tonight you'll take pity on me and let me try your bed?"
    "No!" She flung the eggs into the pan with a savage motion, her softer feelings toward the man evaporating rapidly. "I sleep alone, Simon Kendrick, and will for a long time to come! Besides," she went on spitefully, "if you turned in your sleep, you'd probably crush me to death!"
    She was unaware that he had moved up behind her until his hand settled on her small waist. Kirsten continued to watch the omelet as if it were a snake.
    "I'd be very, very careful with you, Kirsten," he murmured in a low, roughly textured tone