‘I don’t!' Her voice rose raggedly to deny the accusation of stupidity. 'Heights have never worried me before.'
'But then perhaps you've never been this high before on such a flimsy open staircase.'
Elizabeth moaned into his chest, hopeless tears dampening the white cotton pocket over his steady-beating heart.
‘I didn’t mean that kind of flimsy,' he said patiently. 'This lighthouse has stood the test of time. It is only dangerous if you are careless, and I am not a careless man.'
'You ran up... your leg...you could have slipped!' she accused shrilly. She refused to take her face out of its warm, comfortable human nest of security.
'You are filled with fear and yet you still find room to be frightened for me?' he said gently. ‘I know my capabilities, Beth, and I do have a very good head for heights.' He moved testingly.
'No!' Elizabeth locked her limbs instantly.
'Yes,' he said firmly. ‘I can’t carry you, Beth—if it were flat ground I could but my leg won’t take the strain of all these steps with your added weight. You'll have to do it yourself-'
‘I can’t!'
'Yes, you can. You're intelligent, you're young and healthy and sternly independent—all excellent qualifications for going up and down staircases.'
‘I'll fall.' She hated herself for being so weak but she couldn’t help her unreasoning fear.
He tipped her chin up with a firm hand, his stern gaze unrelenting as he studied her tear-washed cheeks. 'No, you won’t. Because I'll be in with you, holding your hand with each and every brave step.'
'There's not room for two of us,' she protested. 'Not side by side, no. So I'll be on the step below you.'
'Going down backwards?' Elizabeth was awe-stricken with fresh horror. 'No, I won’t let you-'
'You'd rather do it entirely by yourself?'
‘No!'
'Well, then...'
'Please, don’t make me do this...' she begged in a shaky whisper.
‘I won’t have to. You'll make yourself do it. Come on, chérie. Before someone else decides to come up...'
Pride warred with her fear. The thought of her pitiful exhibition of abject cowardice being witnessed by anyone else was almost enough to galvanise her frozen limbs— almost...
'Jack...'
He kissed her tear-salty lips. Kissed her with a hard, practised thoroughness until he felt her shock turn to angry confusion, then the tentative beginnings of response.
'Trust me...'
He kissed her again before she could react to his order, holding her very tightly, controlling both her response and his with an aggression that eased only when he raised his head.
‘I won’t let anything happen to you...' It was a statement of fact rather than a promise as he lowered his head again, smothering her doubts with relentless sensuality that heated her to the tips of her cold extremities.
With each kiss Elizabeth felt the hard knot in her stomach unravel a little further. It was an exercise in male dominance but also a demonstration of strength and certainty that she couldn’t help but feel grateful for. When he released her mouth for the last time she took an unsteady breath.
'All right, I'm ready...'
His eyes silvered with mockery. 'So am I, but we'd have to be acrobats to do anything about it here. Wait until I get you on top of me in bed, chérie, then I'll show you what real vertigo is!'
'My God, you're an arrogant animal,' she said, flushing with a combination of shock and embarrassment, not even noticing as he stepped down in front of her, holding both of her hands in one of his as the other firmly gripped the central rail.
'Thank you.' He held her angry eyes with the hypnotic power of his as he stepped down and drew her down the first step. Before the knowledge of what she had just done registered he murmured, 'Ever thought of entering a wet ‘I-shirt contest? You have such a superb natural advantage, your victory would be a walk-over.'