20
“Storm’s coming.”
Nikita raised her head enough to look over Drake’s chest and out the master bedroom’s doors. She didn’t remember exactly when they had moved indoors. Cygnus had flown out of sight over the other side of the ship and Pegasus had proclaimed the zenith when they shifted locations.
Now, the rising sun was masked by deep red clouds. The sky above was still blue, but the old sailor’s adage had more truth than not: Red at night, sailors delight. Red in the morning, sailors take warning. A storm arriving from the east across the open reaches of the Caribbean Sea.
That wasn’t the only storm coming. Last night Drake had awakened something in her.
Not merely an insatiable need, but the firm conviction that her need had only one focus: Drake Roman. Up on one elbow and looking
