TWENTY-SIX
It didn’t matter how she tried to busy herself with cleaning in the galley or preparing food for the men on their return, Sassi couldn’t stop worrying. Her fears about what they were facing weren’t helped by the man making a bad show of reading his newspaper at the mess table.
Jockey had started by staring without making even an attempt to pretend he was reading. He’d moved on to forcing himself to flick some pages. But it had been a good ten minutes since she’d heard the paper move.
Sassi hadn’t been able to look at the first-mate. She just stole glances from the corner of her eye, relying on peripheral vision. Even without eye contact, she could feel his disapproval burning into her.
Her paranoia reached critical mass, she couldn’t take it anymore. Coiling the towel in her
