Free The Immortelles by Gilbert Morris Page B

joined her. “Pull all the straw you can over yourself.” Damita grabbed handfuls and threw them over her legs and torso. The smell was rank and chaff got into Damita’s nose and made her sneeze. “We’ll put your coat over the top of the straw,” Yancy said.
    â€œI’ve got to get warm,” she whispered. “I’m so cold.”
    Yancy put his arms around her and drew her to him. They were face-to-face, and Damita felt a faint heat in his body. Terror was still in her, and as his arms went around her, she put her arms around his neck greedily to absorb some of his warmth. She felt him reaching back, pulling more straw over them, and finally she felt the first small indications of her body temperature rising.
    â€œI didn’t think we were going to make it,” she whispered.
    â€œNeither did I.” The two of them listened to the wind as it whistled through the cracks of the barn. Both of them were thinking of the ship.
    As Damita’s shaking began to subside, Yancy said, “You’re getting better. We’re going to live.”
    â€œDo you think anyone else is alive?” she whispered.
    Yancy answered, “I doubt it, Damita. She went down too quick. It’s a miracle that we lived.”
    Tears filled Damita’s eyes, and she put her forehead against his chest and began to weep. Memories of Juanita’s thousand kindnesses flew through her mind. She could not bear to think of the body down in the cold darkness of the sea. Her own body shook—not from cold, but from her sobs. Yancy held her without speaking. Once he whispered, “I’m sorry about your aunt, but it was quick.”
    She stopped crying, and she lay in his arms, trying to regain something that she had lost. He held her without speaking. She felt the warmth of his breath on her face, and she savored the closeness of his body. But then she began to realize that this was a man she was holding, and who was holding her. She felt his hand on her back begin to stroke her, and she lifted her head. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. As he kissed her, she felt a soft, wild, half-giving and half-refusing in her own body. Everything for that moment was unreal: the sinking of the ship, the desperate fight to stay alive, the wind howling outside their cocoon. But his warmth was real, and the touch of his lips on hers was real. She felt that his caress kept loneliness and fear away.
    Her mind would not function. It seemed to have become incapable of thought. Yancy’s growing passion made a turbulent eddy around them both, and then she knew that he was not alone in his desires. She returned his kiss with a fierceness that shocked her.
    At that moment she was helpless and open to his strength. She longed for love and assurance and security and hope, and they all seemed to lie within his arms.
    Suddenly, Yancy jerked away and took a deep breath. He slid himself away from her. His withdrawal stunned Damita. “What’s the matter?” She tried to pull him back.
    He caught her hands in his and did not answer for a moment. When he did, his voice was hoarse. “This is a bad time for you, Damita. You’re not yourself.”
    Damita could not believe what was happening. She had offered herself to him, and now he was refusing her. She whispered, “Don’t you want me?”
    â€œNot like this.” He moved away from her slightly. “You’d hate me, and you’d hate yourself, too, when this was over.” He turned away and said roughly, “Try to sleep. It’ll be light soon, and we can walk out of this place.”
    Damita felt devastated. He had rejected her, and the thought ran bitterly through her mind.
    And then, shame came, burning like a fire in her conscience. She turned over quickly, curling up, her eyes tightly shut. As she lay in the darkness, she could hear his breathing and knew that he was not asleep. She knew she would remember