Playing the odds by Nora Roberts

quiver run through him as he crushed her against him. Too astonished by the newly discovered power to be pleased with it, Serena merely clung. He whispered something low, in a primitive tongue she didn't understand, before he buried his face in her hair.
    Her heart urged her to stay as she was, warmed flesh to warmed flesh. Could it feel so right if she didn't belong there? If her body had not been fashioned for this, could they fit together so unerringly? If her mouth had not been made for his, would it heat at even the thought of a kiss?
    No. Serena caught herself before the weakness could spread too far. She wouldn't let herself be ruled by a need… or by a man.
    She pushed firmly away, knowing she was free only because she'd caught him off guard. Slowly, praying her legs would hold her, she bent down to retrieve the dashiki which had fallen to the deck. Without a word Serena slipped it over her head. It gave her a moment, just a moment, to brace herself before she looked at him.
    She saw desire—a reckless desire that had her heart thudding painfully—in his eyes. And she saw the wariness. It strengthened her to know he'd been no more prepared for the attack on the senses than she had been. Because of it, she had the edge.
    "If and when I decide I want to make love with you, you'll know." She said it calmly, then turned and walked away without a backward glance. Her knees were shaking.
    Justin watched her. Oh, he could drag her back, he thought as his hand curled into a fist. He could drag her to his cabin and have her within a matter of moments. He could say the hell with the game plan and assuage this gnawing hunger that seemed to be eating him from the inside out. If once, just once, he was truly alone with her… With care, Justin unclenched his hand. It never paid to let emotions rule your moves. That was something he'd learned too many years ago to forget now.
    Bending, he picked up the bottle of lotion Serena had left beside her chair. She'd been intrigued with his offer, he mused, absently tightening the cap. And while she might try to shrug it off, the idea had been planted. After a year of following orders, the notion of giving them would appeal to her. Having come fresh from a victory, she would consider herself well able to handle him on the personal front He counted on there being enough MacGregor in her to make a challenge irresistible.
    A slow, cool smile touched his mouth. Justin was just as susceptible to a challenge as Serena. He'd made his bid, he decided. For the moment, he'd let it stand.
    Serena's room was completely dark when the phone beside her bunk shrilled. Blindly, she groped about, fumbling for the button of the alarm. When this did nothing to stop the ringing, she pushed at it in annoyance, then knocked the receiver from the phone. It conked her smartly against the temple.
    "Ouch, damn it!"
    "Good morning, little girl."
    Hazy with sleep and rubbing her head, she cradled the receiver against her ear. "Dad?"
    "How's life on the high seas?" he asked in a booming, cheerful voice that made her wince.
    "I—um…" Running her tongue over her teeth, Serena struggled to wake up.
    "Come on, girl, speak up."
    "Dad, it's…" She pushed at her alarm again until she could read the luminous dial. "It's barely six A.M."
    "A good sailor's up with the dawn," he told her.
    "Uh-huh. Good night, Dad."
    "Your mother wants to know when you'll be home."
    Even half asleep, Serena grinned. Anna MacGregor had never been a mother hen, but Daniel… "We'll be in Miami Saturday afternoon. I should be home by Sunday. Are you going to have a brass band?"
    "Hah!"
    "One Highland chief with a bagpipe?"
    "You were always the sassy one, Rena." He tried to sound stern, and ended up sounding proud. "Your mother wants to know if they're feeding you proper."
    She swallowed a giggle. "We get a whole loaf of barley bread a week and salt pork on Sundays. How is Mom?"
    "Fine. She's already gone to the hospital to cut somebody