Elusive Dawn by Kay Hooper

bunk and watched the cat curl himself into a contented ball, then she gathered up some things and went into the tiny bathroom. She coped with the narrow shower stall almost automatically, her mind occupied with what Shane had said. Emerging from the bathroom minutes later, she found that he had fixed the litter box for George and left it in the hallway. She was at her cabin door, wearing her terry robe and carrying odds and ends, when Shane stuck his head out of the galley.
    "I got my sleeping bag and some other stuff from the cabin, so I won't have to disturb you later. Good night, honey." The emerald eyes flared slightly as they took in the damp robe, but he said nothing more.
    Robyn murmured a good night and went into her cabin, shutting the door quietly behind her. She sat on her bunk for a long time, watching George with eyes that never really saw him.
    Shane was right: they had to be honest. In theory, that was fine. But in practice...
    She could never be truly honest with Shane, she knew, until he was told who and what her husband had been. Until he knew how terrified she was of giving her heart to another reckless man...

 
CHAPTER SIX
    George claimed his new role of ship's cat with great gusto and rapidly learned certain key words of nautical terminology. Phrases such as "You damned cat!" irately bellowed at him by Shane while Robyn laughed obviously meant that sail-climbing wasn't encouraged.
    Robyn tried her best to teach the seagoing cat a few manners, but he seemed obstinately determined to get on Shane's nerves. In fact, as Shane pointed out menacingly, he seemed to have a death wish. Robyn spent most of Thursday alternately yelling at the cat and warning Shane not to yell at the cat. She finally pointed out to George that swimming back to land wasn't something to look forward to, but since her pet chose to ignore the lecture in order to attack the end of a line Shane was tying off, she couldn't feel that she had done much good.
    "Robyn!"
    "I know, I know! George, don't do that! Maybe if I wrap you up in one of these ropes, you'll stop playing with them."
    "I'm going to tie him to the anchor and drop him overboard!"
    "You wouldn't do that to a defenseless creature-"
    "Defenseless? He scratched the hell out of me not an hour ago!"
    "You pulled his tail!"
    "How else was I supposed to get him down from the sail? Now look at him, dammit ! You stupid cat, that's a mast not a tree!"
    "Shane, don't-" She listened to words of blue origin for a moment, then murmured, "-pull his tail."
    "Robyn, I'm warning you-!"
    "All right, all right! I'll get him down."
    When she wasn't saving George from the jaws of death or becoming an accomplished sailor, Robyn spent most of her time trying to learn how to work the stove in the galley. Shane had fixed breakfast- and very well, too. Lunch had been sandwiches, but supper had to be cooked. Robyn was elected.
    The stove was a gas model, and the pilot kept going out. Being just a bit wary of fires on boats at sea, Robyn kept yelling for Shane to come down and light it for her. After his fifth patient trip below deck, Robyn noticed a somewhat frantic gleam in his eyes, and she decided prudently to handle the stove by herself from then on.
    She pulled out all the stops with supper, determined to give Shane the best meal he'd ever had on land or sea. The boat was anchored in a small cove near Long Key, and Shane was topside getting everything ready for night, so other than stepping over George every time she turned around, Robyn was able to work undisturbed.
    She delved into her memory for Marty's cooking lessons and produced a meal that even that stern critic would have praised. Ruthlessly making use of all the fresh vegetables Shane had stocked, she fixed a savory stew, the heavenly aroma of which made her mouth water. She took advantage of the cook's privilege of "tasting" and managed to stave off starvation while completing the rest of the meal.
    The stew was to be accompanied by