Scarlet Butterfly Read Online Free PDF Page B

she admitted in a low, shy voice. “I think that I rather enjoyed it. Do you bring women here often?”
    Sean leaned forward, caught the edges of the shirt that dangled loosely on her, and drew them together under her chin so that the opening covered the pulse in her neck. “You’re the first woman to ever set foot on board the
Scarlet Butterfly
, Carolina, but I didn’t bring you.”
    “But I distinctly remember. I got very dizzy. I’m not accustomed yet to doing much walking, and it was so hot. Just as I collapsed, you caught me, and I must have fainted. I vaguely remember you undressing me and putting me in your bunk, then nothing else until you—I—this morning … Was that—what you were doing—foreplay?”
    Sean felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. Here they were standing almost thigh to thigh in his tiny galley, and she was looking up at him as if he had all the answers and she needed every one of them.
    “Ahh, Carolina. This is a very strange encounter. You must have dreamed it. I think you have a vivid imagination. You’re—you’re little more than a child, and you’re much too trusting.”
    “I’m twenty-five and I know I’m too trusting. I’m a sucker for Girl Scout cookies and band candy. I buy chances on new cars and every time Ed McMahon sends me a letter, I subscribe to another magazine. Imean I’d feel terrible if I won the grand prize and hadn’t ordered anything. Wouldn’t you?”
    Sean didn’t even know how to answer. If she’d feel bad about winning a contest when she hadn’t bought a magazine, how would she feel about building up to making love and then stopping short of the final act? He swallowed hard as he realized that she was still waiting for an answer.
    “That was foreplay. Haven’t you made love before?”
    “No, at least not anything like that. What you did was very … stimulating. My only experience was more like a poor simulation.”
    “Simulating foreplay?”
Only experience
? That idea blew his mind. What was she saying? That she’d only had one lover and he’d been inept? That was something Sean had never been accused of. And if the reaction he’d gotten was any measure of it, Carolina was a lady more than capable of responding.
    She was studying him earnestly. “I think I’d like to discuss this further, Captain. I’ll need to think about it. Would you like some breakfast?”
    Sean simply stared at her. He wasn’t certain that he’d answered until she turned to the refrigerator.
    For Carolina, the offer to cook breakfast for Rogan was a deliberate attempt to direct his attention to another subject while she got her emotions under control. It didn’t work.
    All conversation stopped. Sean was still trying to interpret the concept of simulated foreplay.
    Watching her move from the tiny gas cookstove to the table and back was like watching a child discovering the pieces of a dollhouse and arranging themin their proper places. She picked up the frying pan and ran her fingers across the bottom as if she’d never seen one, pleasure bringing a smile to her face. The small refrigerator beneath the counter brought another smile, as did the eggs she examined as if she’d never cracked one before.
    “I’ll make the toast,” he said, finding something on which to focus his attention. He ought to be asking for answers. He ought to be building a raft so that he could take her back to town. But he couldn’t forget the pallor of her skin, the fragility of her body, the heat that had flared between them. She wasn’t well, he rationalized, and he couldn’t subject her to the stress of getting back to civilization.
    “Oh, is there a real toaster?”
    “No, I just butter it and brown it in a skillet.”
    That was a mistake. One person could stand between the table and the stove, but two people filled every cubic inch of space, provided they were joined at the hip and willing to move in tandem.
    Awkwardly, Carolina cut chunks of cheese in the pan.
    “Are you