Caught In A Storm Of Passion

Fear crawled into her belly like a sly fox invading a chicken coop.

“What about the radio? Did you try the radio?”

He sighed. “Of course I tried the radio,” he muttered irritably, without opening his eyes. “It’s fried—like the rest of the electronics. And before you nag me about where we are, and how we’re going to be rescued, all I can say is I don’t know.” His lids popped open and his dark eyes settled on her, oddly serious and hypnotic. “I checked earlier and all I can see is jungle. We crashed in a damn jungle.” He sighed again. “But better than the sea, huh?”

After a short silence, during which she had no clue how to reply to such male logic, his expression lightened and he gave her an up-and-down look that lingered a little too long on her breasts.

“So,” he said, deliberately changing the subject. “You’re a GP?”

“No, I’m an OB-GYN.”

“OB what?”

“OB-GYN. I specialize in pregnancy, birth and women’s...um...reproduction organs.”

He absorbed that silently while Eve felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She was a medical professional, for heaven’s sake. There was absolutely no need to blush at the mention of reproduction and childbirth.

It was normal. Completely natural.

So why did it suddenly seem intimate and...and slightly indecent, discussing it with him?

“And you’ve never been a lingerie model?”

“No,” she said with strained patience. “I’ve never been any kind of model. I’ve waited tables, cleaned motel rooms, and I did a stint at a doughnut shop and then a...” She stopped before she admitted that she’d also worked in an exclusive boutique, which was where she’d got her love of expensive lingerie. She could just imagine his reaction to that. “Well, never mind. Suffice it to say I’ve never had the slightest desire to parade around in my underwear.”

With a little smile tugging the corner of his mouth, he studied her until her face grew hot. “Huh.”

“What?”

He grunted an incomprehensible reply and returned his gaze somewhere over her head, as though disappointed by her answer. “I had this roomate in college who was specializing in gynecology,” he admitted after a short silence. “He was this huge bear of a guy who couldn’t ever seem to find clean socks, let alone know which end a baby was supposed to emerge from. You’re nothing like him.”

Unsure whether or not to be insulted, Eve rolled her eyes. “You went to college?” And then she could have kicked herself when his eyebrow rose up his forehead. She hadn’t meant to sound insulting.

At least she didn’t think so.

“Oh, yeah,” he said sleepily, and Eve leaned closer to study the gash on his head. “Even managed to get a degree and everything.”

“In what?” she murmured absently, more worried about his slurred speech and his pallor than the amount of blood. “How to raise hell while charming a girl out of her underwear?”