"Alex needs someone he can depend on," he said fiercely, forcing his arms to his sides, not allowing them to move lest he take them both in his grasp.
"He can depend on me."
The magic was back in her eyes once more. He had to fight its pull, couldn't let himself surrender, for if he put himself at risk, Alexander would be at risk, also, and he couldn't let that happen again to someone he loved.
"Can you promise you'll be around for the next twenty years?" he demanded.
Pain streaked her face and lodged in her eyes. "No one can guarantee that."
He wanted to hold her, comfort her, never let her go. "That's what's required," he said instead.
A lifetime commitment was something his mother had never understood. She had enjoyed her children only when it was convenient, but was too swiftly bored and eager to escape with people as rich and bored as herself, giving no thought at all to the family she left behind. She bestowed on others the attention he and Claire had needed, hadn't seen that without their mother, a child's heart could break.
It had happened to Claire. He wouldn't let it happen to Claire's child.
"I know what's required," Jann replied breathlessly, as though no air had made its way from her throat to her lungs, as though she continued to stand through sheer will power alone, "and what I intend, but—"
"There are no buts."
"No one knows what the future holds." Her face paled as though she'd already looked through the door to the future, and never again wanted to look that way.
"Take control of the present and the future will take care of itself," Peter advised firmly.
"You can't control the present or the future either. No one can."
"Then how can you take charge of a baby?" He saw the hurt in her eyes, longed to somehow eradicate it. "No one will blame you, Jann, if you give up Alex now. You're young. You're not tied down. He's not your blood."
"I love him," she said simply.
His mother had said the same, when speaking of him and Claire, but he'd discovered that without care, the words meant nothing.
"Love's not enough," he growled. "You can't say you want him now then lose interest when something more interesting comes along."
"There's nothing more interesting to me than Alex."
The way she looked at his sister's baby, he could almost believe she meant it.
"I've seen how you live," he countered, "and your passion for your work. What happens when you can't do both?"
"Alex is my passion."
"Maybe for today, but what about next week, next month, next year?"
"I made a promise."
"What happens when you wake up one morning and realize just how tied down you are?"
Peter's words jolted her, turned her cold. She'd spent half a lifetime keeping herself free, warding off emotional commitments like a fish would a shark. And now with this baby, she was prepared to fling her freedom away and welcome the tie to another human being.
"I don't look upon custody of Alex as tying myself down," she said, aware of a lightening in the area of her heart. It was true what she said, and the knowledge gave her joy.
"What about a husband?"
"I don't need a husband."
"You say that now, but what will you say when you meet someone you like?"
"I'm not intending to fall in love." Heat warmed her cheeks as she made her denial and she lowered her gaze, not sure what was in her eyes. Or in her heart either. She only knew that in some strange way Peter Strickland was starting to get to her, to mean more to her than was wise. She was equally sure she couldn't afford for him to know.
"People never intend to fall in love," Peter told her solemnly.
"I thought you didn't believe in love."
"I don't."
"It could happen just the same."
"It won't."
"And if you do fall in love, what then? If you have Alex he'll be in your way, too."
"Babies are seldom convenient," he asserted, flinging back at her what she'd said to him. "Mostly they just happen, like Alexander happened for Claire." He bent and kissed Alex's head, their dark hair mingling. "You don't turn your back and say, not now, thank you very much."
"I didn't turn my back," Jann cried. "Alex has me to take care of him. You're not obligated to react to anything. Claire wanted me to have Alex and I want him, too. He's safe. He's loved."
"He's my nephew," Peter said, "and I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"Afraid?" she demanded.
"No."
"Every time we speak of love and marriage in relation to you, you try to change the subject."
"Your questions are too personal."
"No more personal than what you asked me." She stared at him hard. "I'd like to know the answer. Besides, you seem to know a lot about me, so no doubt you've had your lawyers working overtime on that. I'm entitled to ask questions too."
"You're entitled to nothing."
"You're afraid," she accused again then ruthlessly went on. "The woman you fall in love with might not care that Alex is your nephew. She'd probably prefer to have her own children than care for someone else's."
"The same could be said about you." His words smashed against her like storm waters against the shore.
"I don't want my own children," she denied, feeling her lips tremble, knowing as she spoke that what she said was a lie. "Alex is all I want. All I need. To me," she finished starkly, "Alex is everything."
* * *
Jann wearily put the last of the picnic dishes into the galley cupboards, wishing the words she and Peter had spoken would stop reverberating in her brain.
They had taken a stab at eating the feast she had brought, but neither had been very hungry. When at last they finished trying, Peter had packed up the food and dishes, while she wandered the Cultural Center with Alex in the stroller.
She had managed somehow then to control her brain's whirling, but it was impossible to do so now in the silence of her own space.
"Are you alone?" Peter asked, his voice coming from somewhere behind her.
"What are you doing here?" she cried, whirling to face him again. She should no longer be startled by Peter's sudden appearances, should be used to his frequent comings and goings. But the truth was, each time she saw him, the electricity between them grew, reaching for her like a magnetic current and jolting her into connection.
He swept one broad palm through his thick hair, pushing it back and away from his face. "I came to say goodnight to Alexander," he explained.
Jann touched the crystal around her neck and was grateful for its coolness. She needed it tonight to protect herself from this man.
"I wasn't expecting you," she whispered, wishing her heart would stop its pounding, trying hard now to remember that this man was her enemy.
"I wanted time with Alexander."
"He's asleep."
"That's what you always say."
"That's what babies mostly do." She smiled faintly. "You've already spent a lot of time with him today."
"Which is a good thing. I want him to feel comfortable with me when you go away."
Her blood seemed to freeze as it coursed through her veins.
His eyebrows lifted. "I'm not mistaken, am I? You are going to Maui tomorrow?"
Jann swirled her tongue around the edges of her mouth, but was unable to find the moisture she needed.
"How did you find out?" she finally managed.
"Ruby," Peter said shortly.
"Ruby told you?" Jann's limbs grew heavy. If Peter could get around the best friend she had in the world, he'd have no trouble with a judge.
"She's worried about you going by yourself."
"Worried?"
"You better sit down. You look as though you're about to faint."
"I am not about to faint."
"Here's a chair."
"I don't need a chair. What I need is for you to go away and never come back."
"That's not go
ing to happen." The steel in his voice shafted through to her heart. "I'm not leaving Hawaii without Alexander."
"You're not leaving with him."
"That'll be up to the courts."
"You're not to see him while I'm gone." She was too tired for this, hadn't the strength to fight this man.
"Who's going to stop me?"
"Ruby... and... and... John." Even as she spoke, Jann knew her friends would be useless. They could never hold out against a man like Peter Strickland, would not even try. For they had liked him enough to tell him her plans.
"I think it's time we re-think this supervised access thing," Peter said gently.
"What do you mean, re-think?" All heat seeped from her body, like water from a sieve.
"It's not working."
"It's working fine!"
"I intend to apply for unsupervised access."
Jann leaned against the cabin wall and spread her palms over the wood, seeking strength and support, but not finding either. Then her gaze fell on the photo of the aged Hawaiian woman, and the wisdom of centuries in the old woman's face. She would have found the strength to fight for her child. Jann clenched her fists. She could too.
"That won't be necessary," she said. "I'm sure when I get back we can come to some satisfactory solution."
"And while you're gone?"
She fought to control the trembling building in her heart. She bit her lip, the pain steadying her.
"Ruby was right," she said, ignoring his question.
"About what?" he asked.
How could she meet his eyes? He would read the truth in hers.
"I am sailing to Maui..." If she led into it slowly, perhaps the plan that had unexpectedly lodged in her brain wouldn't seem so impossible. "I plan to photograph the finish of the Victoria—Maui yacht race." She forced herself to look at him now. "I need someone to handle the boat while I take the pictures. Would you like to come along and do that?"
A long silence.
Jann waited, held her breath. If he accepted, it would be unbearable, even worse if he didn't.
"Let's see if I've got this right," Peter said slowly. "You don't want me to see Alexander while you're gone so you've concocted this plan to ensure that I don't."
She winced. He'd got it right.
"Plans like yours tend to backfire."
She was already regretting it.
"Call me crazy..." His lips widened into a grin. "...but I'd like to see what happens."
Her trembling ceased.
"I accept."
Chapter 9
Jann frowned. Alex's cheeks were awfully red. And his nose was running as if there were two feet of snow outside and he'd caught the granddaddy of all colds.
What if he were really sick? Chilled, she pushed the thought away. She would have him checked out first before allowing herself to worry, and if Alex was sick, she wouldn't be going to Maui. At least then she wouldn't have to spend three days alone with Peter Strickland.
Her only regret would be the race. Two years ago when the race was held, she had promised herself next time she would be at the finish line taking pictures. Two years ago, she hadn't had a buyer for her work. That had now changed. Her photos were becoming known.
But none of that mattered if Alex was sick. Gently, she rolled him onto his tummy and rubbed his back. He soon fell asleep, his body hot and restless beneath her hand.
"Ja... nn." Ruby's voice filtered towards her down the passage way.
"I'm in here with Alex," Jann softly called back. "I'll be right out." She tucked a cotton blanket around the baby and moved as quietly as she could back down the passage to the main cabin.
Capt'n was pacing restlessly, stirring the peace of the cabin's confined space, while Ruby perched on the arm of the settee. They both glanced up expectantly when she entered the room.
"Thanks for coming to help move Alex's things over," Jann said, "but I might not be going on the shoot after all."
"What do you mean, girl?" Capt'n demanded, abruptly ceasing his pacing. "Why aren't you going?" His bushy brows drew together, and beneath them his eyes pierced hers.
"Hush, Capt'n," Ruby admonished. "What is it, Jann? Has Peter been giving you problems?"
"When hasn't he?" Jann asked wearily. "But this is nothing I can blame on him." She met Ruby's gaze and knew, when the older woman's eyes widened, that her own concern was evident on her face.
"Alex is sick," she continued briskly. "He's hot, his nose is running, and he looks downright miserable."
"The little beggar probably got too much sun," Capt'n said ferociously, hiding his worry, Jann could tell, behind his bluster. "I warned you he needed a hat yesterday, girl."
"Let's have a look at him," Ruby said, shooting a repressive glance at her husband.
Alex was awake again by the time they'd all crowded into the tiny fore-cabin.
"Doesn't look sick to me," Capt'n muttered. "Women," he spat, "getting into a tizzy over nothing."
Ignoring him, Ruby lifted Alex out of his cot and carried him through to the main cabin. Jann's throat was tight as she watched the older woman put her hand to the baby's forehead.
"He is warm," Ruby agreed then she cast Jann a reassuring smile. "But not overly so." Peering down at Alex's drooling mouth, she gently inserted her little finger between his lips. "Swollen," she pronounced, as she felt his gums. "I thought as much."
"What is it?" Jann asked, catching a breath and holding it.
"Well, speaking as a nurse with over forty years' experience..." She grinned broadly then assumed a learned expressed. "...I'd say, he's teething."
"Teething!" Jann exclaimed.
Ruby chuckled. "Don't worry about it, honey. Even seasoned moms get fooled. Just give that baby to us and you go off and enjoy yourself."
"I'm not going on vacation," Jann protested. "I'm there to work."
"We can manage a bit of both, don't you think?"
Jann spun around. Peter stood on the stairs behind her, his eyes very light this morning, and shining, as though from excitement. Anticipation shot through nerve-endings already taut with anxiety, anticipation she'd have to resist, along with the man himself. Despite the fact they were adversaries, she was attracted to him. And that had to stop. All he cared about was Alex and taking her baby from her.
* * *
Jann shifted her gaze from the setting sun and watched as Peter uncorked a bottle of chilled Chardonnay. A spattering of goose bumps erupted on her arms. Her boat had seemed much larger in port, her plan of keeping her distance from Peter more possible. Here at sea, it was excruciatingly apparent what a tiny space they were in, and that within its limited confines, they were alone.
Splashing some wine into two glasses, Peter handed one to her.
"How long will it take us to get to Maui?" he asked.
"Most of the night." She took a sip of her wine, not wanting to think about the night or her awareness of Peter Strickland.
"You've got it on self-steering now?"
"Yes. Unless we get a change in the wind or some marine traffic, it'll be fine like that until dark."
"Which watch would you like me to take?"
She looked up at him, surprised. "I wasn't expecting you to take a watch."
"Were you planning to do everything yourself?"
"I don't need any help."
"Then why am I here?"
"I..."
"I'll take the first four hours," he suggested, "you take the second then I'll be on again 'til morning."
"Who do you think you are?" she flared. "I don't even know if you can trim the sails, let alone steer. I have no intention of entrusting my boat to a novice!"
"I'm no novice," he said, raising his hand to stop her as she opened her mouth to speak, "which is why I've allocated myself the first shift. That way, you'll be able to see for yourself." He held out one hand, palm upturned. "Fair enough?"
Her mind racing, Jann reluctantly nodded.
"Good." Peter clinked his gl
ass against hers. "Let's drink to it."
* * *
Darkness had closed around them like the arms of a lover, the water rolling beneath the keel as ageless as all eternity. Watching Peter at the wheel from her place in the cockpit, Jann felt strangely at peace. Men and women had been riding the sea for centuries and would no doubt still be doing so long after she and Peter had said their final good-byes.
She stared thoughtfully out over the black water. Peter was a good sailor, for which she was more than a little grateful. Steering all night, then working the next day would have been difficult. If they had got away more quickly from Honolulu it wouldn't have been necessary, but last minute chores had positively eaten up the hours.
"Made a wish?" Peter asked softly.
"I beg your pardon?" she said, turning to him.
"Shooting star," he said, motioning toward the sky. "Didn't you see it?"
She leaned against the pillow she'd propped behind her back and stared up at the heavens.
"You don't usually see them this early in the evening," she said. "But then again, you can see much more clearly out here than in the city."
"I know what you mean."
His voice sounded so strange, she glanced at him again. He was looking down at her, but against the dark sky she couldn't see his face properly. Her stomach muscles tightened. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
"What did you wish for?" he asked, his soft voice at odds with the hard line of his jaw.
"Nothing," she replied, too aware of him here in the dark. "I didn't see it." It was the way he stood—so easily, so powerfully—the way his arms had felt when he pulled her to him—the way his lips thrilled hers.
She blinked and shook her head. Images thrust up by the night, mirages, nothing more.
"Where did you learn to sail?" she asked, struggling to divert her thoughts from those she couldn't afford.
"My father," he answered, adjusting the wheel to starboard a fraction of an inch. "Sometimes when he was home, we'd mess about in boats."
Jann's throat tightened. She'd spent hours with her father, also, fishing, playing catch....
A Woman's Heart Page 9
