“I was the one who was conned,” Sabrina sputtered indignantly. “You didn’t tell me you were a damn expert at the game. And then you had the nerve to play me for kitchen duty. Is that any way to treat a guest?”
“I can’t cook,” Alex said logically, lacing his fingers through hers and automatically shortening his stride as they turned back toward the path that led uphill to the villa. “It was better for both of us that you take over in that department. Besides, I consider I’m being very generous to help you with the washing-up when that was included in the wager.”
“Very generous,” Sabrina said ironically. She darted him a curious glance. “Where did you learn to play checkers anyway?”
“Clancy.”
“I should have known.” She sighed resignedly. “No wonder you win all the time. Clancy would make sure there wasn’t a chance of your not coming out on top in any passage at arms.” Her gaze raked the horizon. “Is he really out there somewhere? I haven’t seen any sign of the yacht all the time we’ve been here.”
“Knowing Clancy, you can be sure of it,” Alex said dryly. “He’s as worry prone as a hypochondriac in a leper colony.” His expression darkened grimly. “And the reason you haven’t seen the yacht is that he knows I’d have his hide if you did. I’ll be damned if I’ll have him frightening you off.”
“I’m glad he’s out there,” Sabrina said soberly, her hand tightening involuntarily in his. “I wish you’d let him stay at the cottage. I don’t like you to take chances, Alex.”
“There’s very little risk,” he said carelessly. “As I said, Clancy just likes to fuss.” He raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at her troubled face. “But I’m glad you’re concerned. It shows I’m making progress. Maybe my monklike abstinence is being rewarded, after all.” He made a face. “I certainly hope so. I’m finding the path of virtue strewn with thorns despite the fact that I’m trodding it with Huckleberry Finn.”
She stopped and turned to face him, her expression grave. “Has it been bad for you, Alex?” she asked, a tiny frown knitting her forehead. “I thought you were enjoying yourself.” She could feel the foolish tears misting her eyes and blinked them away determinedly. “I’ve loved every minute of it.”
“And so have I,” Alex said gently, then noticing the liquid emerald of her eyes gazing up at him uncertainly, he muttered an extremely blue imprecation. “Now I’ve hurt you!” he said impatiently, running his fingers through his hair. “Why do redheads have to be so emotional?”
“Don’t generalize,” Sabrina said, her lips trembling. “I’m not one of your harem of redheads. I’m me, Sabrina Courtney.”
“A very emotional Sabrina Courtney,” Alex said gruffly. “But you’re right, I should be the last one to complain. You can’t be too emotional to suit me, sweetheart.”
“Make up your mind, Alex,” Sabrina said, trying to free her hand from his grip. “You’re being contradictory!”
“Because, as usual, I seem to have put my foot in my mouth,” Alex said ruefully. “I suppose I should be used to it by now with you. It’s been that way ever since the moment we met.” He took her arm and propelled her toward a palm-shaded hillock several yards away. “Come on, we’re going to talk. I’m not about to let a misunderstanding rear its ugly head at this stage of the game.”
When they reached the palm trees, he dropped the bundle to the ground. Placing both hands on her arms, he pushed her gently to her knees. “Sit down,” he said, “this may take quite a while.” He sank to his knees facing her and settled back on his heels. “Now, be still and let me try to explain myself, okay?”
“Okay,” Sabrina replied, gazing blindly over his shoulder at the gentle roll of the surf.
“Look at me, please,” he asked, before cradling her face in his hands. “Stay with me, Sabrina. This is the first time since we came to the Folly that you’ve gone away from me somewhere I can’t follow. Come back to me, sweetheart.” His hard face softened with a luminous tenderness. “I’m lonely for you.”
“Are you, Alex?” she asked uncertainly. The world had narrowed to his dark intent face so close to her own. “I wasn’t sure.”
“Then be sure,” he said softly, his fingers moving upward to caress the delicate skin of her temples with mesmerizing gentleness. “When I suggested this little platonic hiatus, I fully expected it to be hell on earth. I thought I’d be roasting on hot coals the entire time. Shall I tell you what I found instead?”
She nodded slowly, her eyes fixed almost hypnotically on his dark ones that seemed to encompass all that was loving and caring in the world.
“I found a companion I’d want beside me if we were stranded on this island for the next hundred years. I found a woman who is half pixie, half tomboy, and still manages to be all woman.” His voice was so low it was almost a whisper but it rang with a sincerity that caused her throat to tighten painfully. “I found the other half of me. Sometimes I feel as if we’re so close I could read your mind.” He shook his head, his lips curving in a rueful smile. “It would probably be better if you could read mine. It would prevent a good many misunderstandings.”
“You’re not the easiest man in the world to understand, Alex,” she said huskily. “The first time I saw your portrait I thought you looked like a man who knew more secrets than the Sphinx.”
“Do you think I don’t know how I shut people away from me?” he asked quietly. “But I haven’t closed myself away from you, Sabrina. The gates were rusty and creaky with disuse, but I’ve held them open and let you take a look. I don’t think you’ve seen any dark secrets to send you running away in panic.”
She shook her head. “No, the man I’ve seen hasn’t frightened me, Alex,” she said softly. “I like him very much.”
She liked him far too much. There had been moments in the last two days when she’d felt she’d made a terrible mistake in allowing this time of exploration and discovery between them. Her body might someday forget the witchery they knew together, but how was her mind to make a similar adjustment, now that she’d discovered the man behind the mask? The wry humor that was always just beneath that enigmatic surface, and the gossamer gentleness that could emerge so unexpectedly from the tough shell he’d built around himself. The other half of him. Yes, she’d felt that ephemeral bond and known it was gaining strength with each passing moment. When their stay on the island was over, would she find it too hard to break?
“Good, I’m glad you like me,” he said gruffly. “Remember that. There’s going to come a time when I’ll remind you that you found something besides my virile young body fascinating.” He frowned with mock sternness. “So, from now on, don’t get any crazy ideas just because I drop the casual, lustful remark.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, love. I appreciate the effort, but you could be wrapped in sackcloth and ashes and I’d still want you.” He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like having my Huckleberry Finn around.” There was suddenly a glint of mischief in the darkness of his eyes. “Especially as young Huck owes me kitchen duty again tonight, and I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast.”
“Philistine,” Sabrina accused, jumping to her feet. The moment was so charged with emotion she felt a swift rush of relief that Alex had chosen to lighten it. They had been much too close to words that mustn’t be spoken. “If you promise to wash all my shells for me, I just might oblige, despite the way you hustled me.”
He retrieved the knapsack and weighed it consideringly. “No deal,” he said, standing up and slinging it over his shoulder. “It would take me the better part of the evening and I have other plans for tonight.”
“Plans?” Sabrina asked, as he took her hand and their steps once more turned toward the path.
“I said I could last two days,” he reminded her quietly. “And I think I accomplished what I set out to do. You can’t deny we know each other better now than some couples who have been married for years.”
Sabrina felt a little tingle of hea
t surge through her and she unconsciously licked her lips in anticipation. She knew she’d been eagerly waiting this decision, though she hadn’t admitted it even to herself. They’d made the attempt to dampen down the explosive sexuality that was ever present between them, still the undercurrents had been unmistakable. Now the waiting was almost over. She’d be in Alex’s arms tonight.
“No, I can’t deny we know each other better,” she agreed softly, casting him a sideways glance redolent with mischief. “But I’ll be darned if I’ll play both roles you seem to require of me, Alex Ben Raschid. If you want a mistress in your bed tonight, the kitchen slave has to go!”
When they reached the house, Alex proceeded directly to the suite to shower and change while Sabrina continued on to the small utility room adjoining the modern kitchen. She’d put a load of clothes in the dryer before they’d started out on their walk this afternoon, and she wanted to fold and return them to Alex’s room before she went to her own room to change. Since she’d been sharing Alex’s wardrobe for the past two days, it had been necessary to wash clothes frequently.
A happy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she folded the jeans and shirts when she took them out of the dryer. It would be good to get back into clothes that made her look a bit more alluring than the ones she had on now. Wearing his may have been both practical and discreet, but it had chafed at her pride to know she wasn’t at her best with Alex. Heavens, it was natural for a woman to want to be beautiful for the man she loved.
She was mentally going over the neglected wardrobe in her closet as she gathered up the neat pile of clothes. There was a silky polyester blouse in a nile green shade that might look rather good with her eyes. She climbed the stairs and strode briskly down the hall to the master suite at the end of the corridor.
Alex didn’t answer her perfunctory knock and, when she opened the door, the sound of the shower running in the adjoining bathroom supplied the reason. She crossed to a teak bureau against the far wall and cast an admiring, proprietal glance around the large, lovely room.
Like the rest of the decor of the house, it had a vaguely tropical atmosphere, with a thick shag carpet in a variegated blue green, the exact shade of the sea she’d been playing in a short time ago. One wall was entirely comprised of a sliding, louvered closet in a rich, polished teak, and there was an elegant empress chair beside the king-sized bed.
After the first glance at that massive bed she carefully avoided looking at it. There were too many hours to get through before she could afford to visualize Alex making love to her there.
She briskly opened the top drawer of the teak bureau and put in two pairs of jeans. Now had Alex taken these T-shirts from the second or third drawer? The second, she decided, and pulled open the drawer.
The pale blue nightgown was so sheer that it was a mere drift of cobweb chiffon, and for a moment she just stared at it with a queer sense of shock. Then she reached out with a careful hand to lift the beautiful thing from the drawer. Judging by the size, the owner must be an exceptionally voluptuous woman, she thought numbly. The nightgown fell from her fingers in a pool of color and she couldn’t take her eyes off it. It exerted the same deadly fascination as a lovely coral snake and she felt as if she’d been stung with a poison that was just as nerve paralyzing.
Oh God, why did it hurt so much to know that Alex had made love to another woman in this very room, in that bed? Everyone who could read a newspaper knew Alex changed mistresses with a rapidity that was positively dizzying. Why wouldn’t he bring one of them to this island? And why couldn’t she accept it like a mature, sophisticated woman instead of feeling like a betrayed child?
The pain was almost comparable to the agony she’d known at the Mendoza party, when he’d spoken with such callous ruthlessness of the women he’d taken. Yet that reality seemed to be of another world. It didn’t belong on this island with the man who’d carried her shells over his shoulder and teased her about her freckles. The very closeness they’d attained in the last two days made the intrusion seem even more foreign. He was hers, damn it!
“Moving in?” Alex asked casually. He was leaning indolently against the doorjamb of the bathroom. “I thoroughly approve. We’ll be much more comfortable in here than in your room.” He leered with mock lasciviousness. “I can’t wait to show you the sunken bathtub. It’s almost as large as one of the guest rooms.”
She must have been staring at that nightgown longer than she’d realized, she thought absently. Alex was dressed in close-fitting khakis that intimately molded the strong, muscular line of his thighs. The sleeves of his dark brown sport shirt were rolled up casually to the elbow, revealing his bronze forearms. He’d even had time to neatly comb his hair that was still damp from the shower.
He came to her and dropped a light kiss on the nape of her neck. Sabrina was vaguely aware of the clean fragrance of soap and a light woodsy cologne. He reached around her and with a disapproving frown picked up the blue chiffon gown from the open drawer. “I don’t remember choosing this for you.” He dropped it back into the drawer. “It must have been temporary insanity. There’s no way I’m going to let even that little bit of mist come between us tonight.” His arms slid around her and he drew her back against the warm length of his body.
“You did include a nightgown in the wardrobe you gave me,” she said tightly, “but this isn’t it. I’ve never seen this one before.”
“No?” His lips moved up to nibble at her ear. “Then it must be Honey’s, she wears that shade of blue quite a bit.”
“I thought you said Honey and Lance always used the cottage when they were here,” Sabrina said coolly, her body stiff and unresponsive in his arms.
She could feel his muscles tauten against her like those of an animal sensing danger. “They usually do,” he said warily, stepping back and turning her around to face him. “Except when there’s a bad storm. Then the cottage becomes flooded and they have to vacate.” His eyes were narrowed on her face.
“How unfortunate,” Sabrina said caustically. “And they use your suite when they’re driven here as orphans of the storm?”
“If I’m not on the island. Lance likes that bathtub,” he answered absently. His hand tightened on her arms and his face was growing grimmer by the second. “What the hell difference does it make?”
It shouldn’t make any difference. Why was she pushing like this? Why couldn’t she just leave it alone? It was as if something was goading her to strike out at him.
“No difference,” she said tartly. “I’d just feel more comfortable if you remembered who occupied your bed the last time you were here. It doesn’t promise well for the future, does it?”
“I thought we’d settled all that,” he said, giving her a little shake. “Why are you doing this, Sabrina?”
There was a tightness about his face and a smoldering anger in his eyes that she hadn’t seen there for a long time. “It was a shock, I suppose,” she said brittlely. “I wasn’t expecting to run into this particular skeleton in your closet.” She was speaking rapidly, almost feverishly. “Or should I say bureau? You must give me a tour and let me know what to avoid. I wouldn’t want you to think I was invading your privacy.”
“You can tear the damn house apart looking for traces of my lurid past for all I care,” he said roughly, and the smolder had definitely burst into flame. “Damn it, I don’t know who that nightgown belongs to if it’s not Honey’s! I don’t remember having another woman here on the island, but what difference does it make if I did? I can’t wipe out the past and I’ve no intention of apologizing for anything that happened before you came on the scene.”
“I’m not asking you to apologize,” she said, smiling brightly, her face stiff and frozen. “I’ve just decided I need a little more time to think about all this.”
Oh Lord, why was she saying this? Ten minutes ago she’d wanted nothing more in the world than to be in Alex’s arms. Why couldn’t she forget the faceless woman who’d worn that little bit of n
othing?
“Well, you’re not going to get it,” Alex said angrily. “This is crazy, Sabrina. Since the moment we met you’ve been telling me what a cynical bastard I am, and how you can’t involve yourself with me because I don’t have the capacity to trust. Well, I’ve been beating my brains out trying to give you what you want from me. Good Lord, I haven’t even mentioned that cowboy you’re so committed to since that night at the ranch!” He shook her harder. “Do you have any conception of how difficult that’s been for me? But I’ve met your damn test, and there’s no way you’re backing away from me now.”
“I’m not backing a—”
“The hell you’re not,” he interrupted. “Do you think I couldn’t feel you pulling away from me every time I mentioned anything resembling permanency in our relationship? I tried to ignore it, and told myself that as soon as you were sure of me all that hesitancy would go away. I’ve done everything I could think of to show you what you mean to me. What else do you want from me?”
“Is it too much to ask you to give me a little more time?” Sabrina asked desperately, trying to shake off his hold.
“You bet it’s too much,” he said tersely. “Because it’s not jealousy, and it’s surely not any reluctance to go to bed with me that’s causing you to act this way. You’re frightened, Sabrina.”
“Why should I be frightened?” she asked, moistening her lips nervously. “I told you I was through being intimidated by you, Alex.”
“You are scared,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing on her face. “Why the hell didn’t I realize it before? It’s you who doesn’t trust what we’ve found together. I realized a long time ago it was strong enough to take anything life could throw at us, but you still have your doubts.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m throwing the same challenge back at you, Sabrina. Trust me. And I’m raising the pot. Love me. For as God is my witness, I love you.” His hands dropped from her shoulders and he stepped back. “Think about it.” As he turned away from her, his face was harsher than she’d ever seen it. “I’m going down to the terrace, but I’ll be damned if I’ll wait long before I come after you.” The door closed behind him with a firmness that was almost a slam.
The Trustworthy Redhead Page 14
