He smiled reluctantly, forcing himself to adopt a bantering tone. “The better to see you with, my dear.”
“If you’re going to play that game, I’d better not go on listing your best attributes,” she complained. “It could get embarrassing.”
“Don’t be shy.”
“Fishing for compliments?” she teased, luxuriating in the gentle aftermath of their passion. These special moments would not last long, and she wanted to store up the tenderness and the memories. They were unique and they would remain so for the rest of her life. Amy knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Jase had succeeded in doing what he’d wanted to do: He’d imprinted her body with his own. She would never forget him. But then, she’d known that after their first night together.
“I’ll trade you compliment for compliment,” Jase suggested helpfully. “In exchange for telling me I have beautiful eyes, I will tell you that yours are the color of the sea in the morning or after a storm.”
Amy glowed, even though it was only a game. “That’s pretty good. Let me see. You have terrific shoulders. Not bulky like a weightlifter’s, but strong and sleek. Must be all that swimming “
“And you,” he murmured, bending close for a second to touch the tip of his tongue to one of her nipples, “have the nicest breasts. Soft and sensitive. Just like the rest of you.”
Amy smiled and let her hand trail down to his thigh. “You have a tight, lean waist. No fat. Not bad for a man who makes a living running a bar,” she added approvingly
“And your tummy has the cutest little curve to it,” he countered.
“You’ve got good legs too,” she tried.
“Your legs feel unbelievably exciting when they’re wrapped around me,” he drawled, eyes gleaming. Then he put out a hand and sank his fingers into her buttock. “But if I had to choose the part I like best...”
“I told you this could get embarrassing!”
“Never!” he vowed, touching her mouth with his own in a slow, satisfied kiss. “Nothing about you is cause for embarrassment! Except, perhaps, the way I react to you!”
“Oh, no,” she protested on a soft note of laughter. “I like that part best.”
“You like to see me lose all control?”
“Umm. Gives me a feeling of power.”
He stared down at her, the humor fading from his eyes as he studied her face intently. “I’m the one with the feeling of power. But it’s all a fantasy, isn’t it?”
“What? Jase, what’s wrong?” Amy looked up at him uncomprehendingly as he sat up beside her.
At once he turned back, slapping her lightly on the rump. “Up and at ‘em, woman. I’ve done my manly duty, asserted myself forcefully and put you firmly in your place. Now I’m starving.”
“Banishing me to the kitchen?” she pouted.
“Right after a shower,” he confirmed, reaching down to help her to her feet. “What did you get for dinner?”
“Sex and food. Is that all you ever think of?”
“Mankind’s two most basic motivators.” He lunged, grabbing her lightly around the waist and tossing her over one of the shoulders she had recently been admiring. “Let’s hit the showers, lady. Then you can hit the stove. You didn’t answer my question. What did you get me for dinner?”
“How long has it been since you’ve had biscuits and honey and old-fashioned chicken potpie?”
“Oh, God, I’m salivating already.”
The fantasy they had created in the aftermath of their passion, that of being two happy lovers without a care in the world or a future to consider, persisted right through dinner. Amy was aware that she was deliberately trying to prolong it, and it seemed that Jase was willing to go along with the illusion.
She was watching him down the last biscuit when she remembered something.
“What’s wrong?” Jase asked instantly, seeing the line of her brows.
“I was just wondering—did anyone ever find out what really was so valuable about that mask?”
Jase hesitated. “Murdock let Haley think it held a list of US agents operating in the Pacific. He implied that he intended to sell the list to the highest bidder someday if he ever found himself in need of money or leverage.”
“And is there such a list inside?”
“Murdock says no. He said he was only using it as bait for Haley. The only value in that mask is whatever sentimental value it might hold for Melissa’s son someday. I can get it off the bottom for you, Amy, if you really want to take it back.”
She thought about it. She had come so far to find out the secret of the mask and to discover what had happened to Ty Murdock. Now she knew the answers to both questions. “No,” she said finally, “don’t bother retrieving it for me. Craig will have a new father soon—a real one, I hope. He doesn’t need any souvenirs from a man like Ty Murdock.”
“Are you going to tell Melissa the truth about Murdock? That he’s still alive?”
“Yes. It’s probably best. But it won’t make any difference. She’s very much in love with Adam and I don’t think she’d give up the reality of his love for the illusion of Ty’s.”
“And you, Amy?”
“I haven’t had any illusions about Ty Murdock from the beginning, Jase,” she said very steadily. The only illusions I’m entertaining at the moment, she thought bleakly, are about you.
She didn’t know for certain when or where the fantasy had been born, but it blazed now in her head, full-blown and in living, breathing color. The fantasy was a mental image of Jase surrounded by a comfortable home, enveloped in her love, living a normal, civilized sort of life.
This was the man for whom she wanted to create a home.
She had finally chosen a man, and in her incredible clumsiness she had selected a man who had already cut himself off from civilization. A man who had no real interest in a home.
Chapter Ten
The fragile web of illusion that had been constructed between Jase and Amy in the heat of passion began to fade as soon as dinner was over. Reality returned all too quickly.
Amy knew what was happening, what was going wrong on her side of things. She could only guess at the reasons for Jase’s increasingly dark mood.
From her perspective it was simple enough to define the reasons for her deteriorating sense of well-being. As the rosy illusion of happiness faded, she was forced to face the inevitable question: How long could she extend her stay on Saint Clair now that her business had been accomplished? The question was ringing through her head as she walked beside Jase to The Serpent after dinner. How long could she stretch out the painfully thin excuse of taking a couple of extra days to see the island before she boarded the plane home?
How long did she really want to stretch out that excuse? The longer she stayed with Jase, the harder the final parting would be. She was doing herself no favors by lingering on Saint Clair.
As if by mutual agreement, neither she nor Jase had talked openly about the date of her impending departure. But the prospect of it yawned before Amy like a vast chasm of emptiness. Jase, she suspected, was following his own hammered-out philosophy of taking each day as it came. He would take what she had to give for as long as she was willing. She knew he rarely thought in terms of the future. It was the way he had learned to survive emotionally during the past ten years and it worked for him. She had no right to criticize it. Nevertheless the realization of how basically different they were on even this fundamental level was depressing.
The crowd in The Serpent was beginning to get lively. There was another Navy ship in the harbor, and in addition to the sailors who had already found the place, a number of locals had turned out for a beer and a little gossip about the day’s events. Fred Cowper was seated at one table with a couple of fishermen Amy had seen on the docks. All three nodded in a friendly fashion as Jase led her to a table on the waterfront side.
&
nbsp; Ray smiled cheerfully, bringing a glass of red wine for Amy and a glass of rum on ice for his boss. Amy held out a small sack she’d brought with her. “Here you go, Ray. Dessert.”
His smile broadened into a grin as he grabbed the package enthusiastically and tore it open. “Chocolate chip cookies! My favorite!”
You said coconut cream pie was your favorite,” Jase grunted, lifting his glass of rum and taking a long sip. “That was because Amy gave it to me on Thursday. On Thursdays, coconut cream pie is my favorite. However, today is another day. When did you make them, Amy? You’ve been fairly busy today, from what I hear.”
“I mixed them up just before dinner and stuck them in the oven while we were eating,” she said gently. “How many has Jase already eaten?” Ray demanded.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t get any more than you did,” his boss informed him dryly.
“Gee, he’s in a swell mood this evening, isn’t he?” Ray observed to Amy as he wolfed down the cookies. “Maybe you didn’t feed him enough of these cookies. They’re delicious.”
“Thanks, Ray.”
She watched him as he hurried back to his post at the bar. Beside her, Jase lounged deeply into the high-backed wicker chair and drank rum with an intensity that disturbed her. He’d cut back on the rum during the past couple of days, and now it seemed he was intent on making up for lost time. Amy’s unease was shot through with a strange kind of anger.
“Are you just going to sit here in The Serpent every night for the rest of your life and drink rum?” she muttered when she couldn’t stand the silent drinking any longer.
He flicked her a sidelong glance, his attention chiefly on the entrance of the bar. “Maybe. Does it matter?”
Her mouth tightened under the cool rebuff. She glanced around the interior of the bar, anxious to take her mind off the tension that was building steadily between herself and Jase.
The Serpent no longer seemed the dangerous and alien place it had been that first night, she thought wonderingly. Perhaps because she now knew some of the people in it, at least by sight. Actually she had made tentative friendships with two or three of the locals by now, friendships she would never have expected to establish in the beginning. She thought of Maggie with her practical philosophy and the cheerful, easygoing Ray with the painting. Saint Clair hadn’t turned out to be quite the way she had imagined. There were some nice people here.
“What are you thinking about, Amy?” Jase broke a long stretch of silence with his quiet question. He had almost finished the rum and had nodded his head at Ray to signal that he wanted another.
Amy eyed the disappearing rum. “I was thinking about the future of the tourist trade here on Saint Clair,” she answered evasively. “The Serpent could become quite a nightspot if the cruise ships start calling here.”
“Yeah, I guess it could.” Jase didn’t appear too interested in the possibility.
“Don’t you ever think about the future, Jase?” she whispered, feeling somewhat desperate.
`Not if I can avoid it. No percentage in it.
Ray brought another glass of rum, his expression politely blank now instead of cheerful. Amy got the impression he didn’t approve of his boss’s renewed interest in the stuff.
Conversation dwindled again. Amy’s fingers flexed nervously around the stem of her wineglass, and she consciously tried to relax them, not wanting the embarrassment of another spill. What was happening? She wanted these last few hours with Jase to be perfect, as special as possible. She needed the memories so badly. Instead everything was becoming incomprehensible and unmanageable. Tears sparkled for an instant in her eyes before she hastily blinked them away.
When her vision cleared, it revealed impending disaster.
Ty Murdock was swaggering into The Serpent, plainly having put in some drinking time elsewhere before arriving. Even Amy sensed the new variety of tension that suddenly flared to life in the man beside her. She didn’t need to be told that trouble was brewing. Uneasily she watched as Ty hooked one booted foot over the brass rung of the bar and ordered a drink. His dark gaze swept the room.
“Oh, hell,” Jase muttered in disgust. “Just what I needed tonight.”
He settled even deeper into the shadows of the wicker chair, studying the other man with a cool, meditative perusal that increased Amy’s sensation of doom a thousandfold.
“Jase?” He ignored her anxious gaze. “Jase, I don’t want any trouble tonight.”
But she could feel the masculine challenge hovering in the air between the two men, and she had no idea of how to dissolve it. Out here the normal rules of polite behavior didn’t always apply. A jolt of panic raced through her. “Jase, he’s not doing anything. Just having a drink, for God’s sake.”
That got his attention briefly. `That’s all I’m doing too. Having a drink. But there’s one fundamental difference.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m having my drink with you,” he explained very politely, as if she weren’t very bright. “Your old friend Murdock knows damn well I took you home and made love to you this afternoon right after I plucked you out from under his nose. He’d had similar plans himself. Now he’s had a few drinks and a little time to think about it. He’s not in a friendly mood, honey. Don’t blame me for what happens next.”
“Stop it!” she hissed, alarmed at the fatalistic way he seemed to be preparing for a fight, even anticipating it with a strange pleasure. “Don’t say things like that. He couldn’t possibly know we spent the afternoon...” Her voice trailed off as Ty’s gaze settled broodingly on their table. A flush rose into her cheeks.
“Couldn’t know that we spent the afternoon in bed? Sure he does. He knows damn well that’s exactly what I had in mind when I dragged you out of Cromwell’s. He’s probably been drinking steadily since then, running the picture of you in my arms through his head over and over again.”
“Jase!” Amy’s shock was plain.
“Men and their fantasies, honey, remember?” he drawled mockingly.
“Jase, please, I don’t want a fight.”
“He’s spoiling for one. By now he’ll have convinced himself he has to prove he’s man enough to demolish the lover you chose over him. And he’ll want you to witness the proof of his manhood.”
“You can’t be serious! That’s childish! Immature! Stupid.”
“Men are like that sometimes. You’re the one who keeps telling me that.”
“All right, I’ll admit Ty’s capable of doing something immature, like starting a brawl to prove his manhood, but I expect better behavior out of you, do you hear me?” she began in a sturdy, lecturing tone.
“Why should you expect anything more sophisticated from me? I’m just another male who washed ashore on Saint Clair. Another male who walked away from your civilized world a long time ago.”
Amy glared at him, feeling helpless to avert disaster. “You’re spoiling for a fight, too, aren’t you? You’re actually hoping he’ll start something!”
“You’re turning into a fair amateur shrink. Stick around out here in the Pacific long enough and you’ll get to be an accomplished one. Goes with the territory.”
Out of the corner of her eye Amy saw Murdock down the last of his drink and start purposefully across the room. There was elemental male hostility in every line of his body.
Beside her, Jase didn’t move, but she felt the coiled tension in him and wanted to shriek aloud in her frustration. “Jase, this is crazy. Don’t let it get out of hand. It’s up to you to control the situation!”
“I’ll control it.” He wasn’t paying her even the slightest attention now, his whole awareness centered on Murdock, who halted beside the table in cool challenge.
“Had enough of playing around with the second string, Amy? My offer for the evening is still open, you know. Be glad to show you the difference between the men and the
boys.” The words were aimed at Amy, but there was no doubt that the taunt was directed at Jase.
“Ty, please,” Amy began weakly.
“I think it’s time you left, Murdock,” Jase said coldly, cutting across Amy’s plea for reason.
“When I leave tonight, I’ll be taking Amy with me,” Ty drawled insolently. “I’m going to show her what she missed two years ago.”
“She knows she didn’t miss much,” Jase returned smoothly. He was practically motionless. Only the brilliant turquoise eyes burned with the fires of his counterchallenge. “And she’s not going anywhere with you. Get lost, Murdock.”
Ty’s eyes narrowed as he hooked his thumbs in his belt and stood with his feet braced slightly apart. “I knew her a long time before you did, Lassiter. Tonight I’m going to renew old acquaintances. Come on, Amy.”
“Ty! No!” she gasped, startled when he abruptly reached down and took hold of her arm, jerking her to her feet. Almost predictably the action caused her left hand to flail out in the direction of the half-filled wineglass. When it toppled over Jase made no effort at all to catch it. The red wine ran across the table and dripped to the floor, totally unnoticed.
“I told you if you came near her again I’d break your neck,” Jase reminded his opponent. There was a wealth of anticipation in his voice, and Amy winced as she heard it. Jase wanted this fight every bit as much as Murdock did. She was furious at both of them and utterly helpless.
“Please let me go, Ty,” she begged softly, turning pleading eyes up to him
“You heard the lady.”
Then, with horrifying swiftness, Amy was released. The two men exploded into a vicious brawl before her eyes. Jase had come up out of his chair in one swift motion, his fist aimed at Ty’s chin.
Instantly, having achieved his purpose of goading the other man into the battle, Murdock released his pawn and barely managed to avoid the blow Jase had launched. It landed on his shoulder, knocking him backward into a sprawl. Jase rushed in, seeking the advantage.
Serpent in Paradise Page 17
