She sets her jaw, but shrugs into it. Good.
I head for the cabin, shut off the beeping instrument, then check my weather coordinates, and swear aloud.
"What’s wrong?" Her voice sounds right behind and I want to tell her to leave, but hell, if there is no time for that.
"Storm’s headed for us," I grit out through clenched teeth.
"But we just passed one last night."
"That, sweetheart, was a rainstorm."
"A… rainstorm?" She gulps.
"Idle sport, the kind I wouldn’t hesitate to take on with my eyes closed.”
"And this…this is—"
"A category 3 which, if you weren’t on board, I wouldn’t hesitate to face head on, but since I do care about your sweet little ass, I am going to have to find a way to steer around it."
"So, I was right then, you like to drive your boat straight into rough weather?"
"You could say it’s a specialization of mine."
I take in the progression of the storm…which is too rapid for me to outrun. Even at top speed, there is no way we can beat it. I can only think of one way out… But I have to be sure. I begin to plot out the coordinates on the map as she leans around me to peer at the screen.
"You do realize how crazy that sounds, right?" She moves closer and her scent intensifies. My cock twitches in response, and damn it, why is it, that even trying to figure out how to save our lives, I am so aware of how completely edible she is?
"What’s crazy, is that you are still here trying to distract me while I plot a course to get us to safety."
"What are you going to do?"
"Find a place to take shelter until the storm blows over."
"And how long will that take?"
"Hours, days…"
"Days?" She scowls, "I’m assuming those days are part of the thirty days I have to spend with you?"
"No."
"No?" Her eyes widen.
A chuckle breaks free and I turn it into a cough.
"It’s not part of the deal," I reiterate. "You’ll simply have to put it down to time invested in your attempts to have a baby. Not to mention, time invested in saving your life."
"Aargh," she makes a noise deep in her throat, "this cannot be happening. As it is, I’m regretting having made this deal with you, and now you’re telling me I’m going to have to spend more time with you?"
"More time to ensure that you get pregnant…unless," I jerk my head in her direction "you’re already with child?"
A strange sensation flutters in my chest. A child. My child. With Karina—the woman who’d entranced me from the first day I’d laid eyes on her; the sassy spitfire who’d never hesitated to go up against me. How would a baby we created look? Would she have her golden eyes, my dark hair, her pert nose, my stubborn jaw? A little girl…or boy… Either is good… Ideally, twins. Shit, that means we’d have multiplied by two overnight. We? Did I just think of myself in the plural there?
She pales, "You…you don’t think I’m already…?"
"Well, if the right sperm found its way up your Fallopian tube and fertilized an egg, then—"
"Stop," she holds up her hand, "I know how it works, you ass."