Chain of Love

by Anne Stuart

  “You’re quite right.” She sat up straighter, curling her legs up underneath her to put even more distance between his overwhelming masculinity and her own frailty. “You strike me as someone who’s very sure of himself.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Overly so?” he inquired pleasantly.

  “Bordering on it,” she shot back. “You’re used to being found attractive by women, and can’t quite comprehend that any poor female would be immune to your charms. You spend a lot of money on your pleasures, like your boat and the wine. You’re probably quite vain, indolent, and you’ve already proven yourself to be sexist...”

  He took this litany in quite good part, reaching into the cooler by his side and retrieving a beer. An imported German one, of course, Cathy noticed as further proof of his sybaritic tendencies. “I sound like quite a worthless fellow,” he observed easily. “Haven’t you anything good to say about me? No redeeming qualities?”

  She considered this. “Since Charles and Meg like you, you can’t be all bad.”

  “Dogs and children like me too,” he offered meekly.

  “You sail well,” she continued sternly, ignoring his interruption. “And you have excellent taste in your expensive wines and such.” She hesitated for a moment. For some reason Sin seemed to be waiting for more. Determined to be frank and bold and take the wind from his sails, she added, “And you’re not bad on the eyes, either.”

  Whatever he had been expecting, that obviously wasn’t it. A slow smile creased his tanned face. “High praise, indeed. You, however, are staying immune to my overwhelming physical attractions?”

  “Completely!” she replied, edging slightly farther away from him. No matter how far she moved, he still seemed too close. She supposed he couldn’t help being intimidating, he was so damned huge. “Just as you are to mine.”

  He pushed the sunglasses up to his forehead, surveying her through half-closed eyes, that smile still playing on his lips. “What makes you think I’m immune to you, Cathy?” he asked softly, and the caressing sound of his voice sent a small shiver down her back, despite the heavy sweater.

  “You assured me I was completely safe from—from ravishment, I believe was the word you used.” She could feel the color come up in her face once more.

  “That wasn’t exactly what I said. I said you were safe, ‘right now.’“ He rose in one fluid, graceful movement, towering over her. “That doesn’t mean I’ll wait forever.” And before she could reply with more than a gasp of outrage, he had made his way forward to join Charles and Meg.

  Cathy stared after him for a long moment, awash with conflicting emotions. Emotions that couldn’t be completely defined as outrage. There was something akin to excitement at the thought of Sin MacDonald directing all that tightly leashed masculine energy in her direction. Aghast at her own wayward thoughts, she hastily got to her feet, gathering up the debris of their luncheon and carrying it below. She couldn’t tell whether it was the effect of the hot sun, or that intense look Sin MacDonald was giving her from across the boat, but she suddenly felt it imperative to have a few moments to compose herself before subjecting herself again to that piercing, hazel stare. And her sister was far too knowledgeable, besides.

  She delayed as long as she could, cleaning up the remains from their picnic, straightening the tiny galley and removing every last trace of their occupation. It was half an hour before she finally ran out of things to do, and she considered returning Sin’s heavy sweater to the footlocker. But they were still about an hour out of port, and the wind had gotten substantially chillier as the afternoon shadows deepened. Obeying an impulse, Cathy slipped into the head, shut the door behind her, and turned to stare at her reflection in the mirror. The sunglasses covered fully half of her face, with only her pointed chin and hollowed cheeks and pale, tremulous mouth visible beneath the long curtain of silver-blond hair, now rumpled from the salt breeze. Taking off the glasses, she peered at her reflection. The green eyes were large and sad and wary in her pale, oval face, and the hours in the sun had brought forth a faint trace of freckles across her delicate nose. Ignoring the beauty that she had always failed to recognize, she decided she looked like someone recovering from a long illness.

  With a sudden start she recognized the key word. Recovering. She never thought she would, or could, recover from the devastating blow Greg Danville had dealt her heart and her pride, not to mention her body. But recovering she was, slowly, unsteadily, but quite definitely, thank you. The very thought was amazing. Crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue at her Ophelia-like reflection, she planted the protective sunglasses back on her nose and joined the others on deck, curiously cheered by her short moment of insight.

  “What are you looking so bouncy about?” Meg inquired casually, turning to survey her.

  “Why shouldn’t I be bouncy? It’s a beautiful day, I’ve been entertained and well-fed. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be feeling good,” she replied evenly, keeping her eyes averted from Sin’s interested expression.

  “No reason at all,” her sister echoed, obviously mystified. “We’ve been hatching up a marvelous plan while you were below.”

  “Really?” She leaned against the railing, folding her arms across her chest and willing herself to relax.

  “Several, as a matter of fact,” Meg continued blithely. “First off, Sin’s been planning on taking Tamlyn down to the Caribbean, and we thought it would be fun to accompany him. Charles would sail down with him, and I could follow by plane. We wondered if you wanted to come along. You know you’ve always loved the Caribbean, and I think you need to get away.”

  Several things flew through Cathy’s mind, as her eyes caught Sin’s seemingly occupied figure.

  “Who’s Tamlyn?” she blurted out, and then could have bitten her tongue at Sin’s amused expression.

  “Tamlyn is the most important female in my life,” he replied, watching her expressive face beneath the glasses. “You’ve already berated me for spending too much money on her.”

  “I did?” she echoed, mystified. “Oh. Tamlyn is the boat,” she realized belatedly.

  “Tamlyn is the boat,” he agreed with a smile. “Jealous?”

  Her temper flared again, just as he had obviously planned. “God, you’re conceited,” she stormed.

  “And you rise so nicely to the bait,” he countered.

  “Children, children!” Charles admonished, raising a restraining hand. “You two squabble like a couple of teenagers. Would you listen to your sister’s idea, Cathy?”

  “Okay,” she agreed meekly, shooting a darting glance at the unrepentant Sin.

  “I’d love your company, Cathy,” Meg continued persuasively. “Sin and Charles will be spending all their time messing around with the boat, and you could keep me company. We could shop, and go exploring, and all sorts of fun things. Please say you’ll come with me, Cath. I’ve hardly seen you at all since Charles and I got married and you met—I mean, I’ve missed you. We’d have so much fun, please, Cathy.”

  “Oh, I don’t think...” she began vaguely.

  “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t go. You’re not working anymore, and there isn’t anyone to keep you in town,” Meg added with her usual lack of tact.

  “But I’m not-”

  “We won’t be going for another month,” Charles chimed in. “Not till sometime in November, when the rainy season is well past. I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d come, Cathy. I wouldn’t feel right about abandoning Meg if you weren’t there.”

  “Not that he should feel right about abandoning me at all,” Meg laughed, sharing a tender glance with her obviously doting husband. “But you know what men are like. I doubt we’ll even see them the whole time we’re down there.”

  Cathy could feel Sin’s speculative hazel eyes on her averted face. “I still don’t think—”

  “I think she’s afraid we’ll all have to crowd on the boat,” Sin’s slow, deep voice broke through. “Maybe you’d feel better ab
out it when you realize we’ll be staying at Pirate’s Cove on St. Alphonse. This boat is definitely too small for four people, particularly when two of them scarcely know each other.”

  Meg added the most telling argument. “I mentioned the idea to Father and he thought it was terrific, Cath. Please say you’ll come. I’ll have a miserable time if I’m left to my own devices.”

  Cathy hesitated, torn by indecision. She knew perfectly well that to agree would be succumbing to Meg’s blatant matchmaking and tantamount to throwing herself at what now appeared to be a supremely disinterested Sinclair MacDonald. But for that matter, she too was supremely disinterested. So what could be the harm in it? If neither of them had any interest in the other, then there was no reason why they couldn’t have a very pleasant time. And the warm trade winds and aqua water ought to do wonders toward her recovery, she thought, still savoring that word.

  “She’ll go,” Sin announced suddenly, nearly catapulting her into disagreement once more. Shooting him a glance of irritation that had absolutely no effect, she nodded.

  “I think I’d like that a lot,” she agreed.

  “Terrific!” Meg cried, enveloping her sister in an enthusiastic bear hug. “We’re going to have a ball.”

  “This all depends on whether Father is feeling all right,” Cathy warned, immediately having second thoughts.

  “Pops is as strong as a horse, and you know it as well as I do,” she shot back. “That tiny heart seizure has been the best thing in the world for him, forcing him to slow down. The pace he was keeping was killing him.”

  “I hope the boredom isn’t finishing the job,” Cathy replied. “Though I think he might actually be enjoying his curtailed activities.”

  “I have little doubt that he is. You know how he loves having his grandchildren around,” said Meg, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. Cathy noticed the rise in color, and opened her mouth to query her sister, then shut it again. Perhaps Meg was still suffering from the memory of her miscarriage just six months after her marriage. This was certainly not the moment for Cathy to bring it up.

  “Well, that’s settled,” Charles announced, his smooth, tanned face looking quite pleased. “Why don’t we all go out to dinner to celebrate? You’ve been dying to go to that new Chinese restaurant down by the water, darling, and now’s our chance.”

  “No, thank you,” Cathy said hastily. “I really have to be back. I—uh—promised Rosemary I’d be there. She wanted some help on a sweater she was knitting, and—and she was going to come over.”

  Meg eyed her in surprise. “Since when have you learned to knit?” she asked sharply.

  “Since this summer. You promised me I’d be back by late afternoon,” she added, rather desperately, and then felt awash with guilt at the disappointment on both her sister’s and Charles’s faces.

  “Well, that’s simple enough, then,” Sin spoke up. “I have to get back to town myself. I’ll take Cathy back, and the two of you can go out for your dinner. I think an old married couple like yourselves need a romantic dinner alone every now and then, anyway.” Cathy opened her mouth to protest, then shut it before his quelling look. “You don’t have any objections, do you, Cathy?” She wished desperately she could think of one good reason not to accompany him. But there was none. None that she could bring herself to mention. Being in Sin’s company with the protective presence of the Shannons was one thing; spending at least an hour in the confines of an automobile was most definitely another. The cynical expression on his lean, dark face told her he knew everything that was going through her mind, but there was nothing she could do. Reluctantly, she nodded. “That would be fine,” she lied, and Sin’s amused smile deepened.

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  It was all she could do to control the little start of panic that swept over her as she watched Charles and Meg drive off into the gathering dusk. What in the world was she doing alone here on a deserted dock, trapped in the company of a man she had only just met, a man she found more than unsettling? What was it Meg had called him? “Somewhat dangerous,” hadn’t she said? And kind. Cathy stared after the retreating taillights, wondering if she could count on that vaunted kindness.

  “The car’s just over there,” Sin’s voice came from directly behind her, and she jumped, emitting a small shriek. Immediately his strong hands caught her arms, turning her to face him in the twilight shadows. “Hey, calm down. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The hazel eyes were staring down at her with a worried expression.

  “That’s all right.” She pulled away from his grip quite easily. “I’m just a bit on edge.”

  The right side of his mouth curved up in a smile. “I’m sure you are. Would it help if I promise I won’t do anything more than shake your hand? Scout’s honor?”

  “I doubt you were ever a scout,” she scoffed.

  “Your doubts are misplaced. I was an Eagle Scout, and the pride of my pack. So you see, you’re perfectly safe with me.” He gestured to the right with a flourish. “I’m afraid my car isn’t quite as new as your sister’s, but I promise it won’t break down or run out of gas.” He reached for her elbow to guide her to the car, but she nimbly sidestepped him. His grin widened.

  “Suit yourself, princess. Follow me.” He headed for the car, and Cathy stuck her tongue out at his tall, broad back before following him. He was already in the driver’s seat of the small, green BMW. “I’d have held the door for you but I didn’t want to expose myself to a blistering attack,” he apologized with mock regret as she slid into the passenger seat and fastened the safety belt.

  “There’s nothing wrong with common human courtesy,” she replied crossly. “It should simply go both ways. Women have just as much of a duty to be polite and considerate as men do.”

  “Exactly.” His voice was dry as he started up the car.

  It took Cathy ten full minutes to apologize. “Sin,” she said, her voice small in the darkened car.

  “Yes?” The voice wasn’t terribly encouraging. He had spent the last ten minutes in silent contemplation of the highway, not even glancing once in Cathy’s direction.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve been rude. I’ve been going through a pretty hard time, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.” It took all her determination to come out with that, but she knew she had to apologize. No matter what her provocation, there was no excuse for her behavior.

  “I know.” At the understanding note in his voice Cathy’s resolve nearly broke. And then his meaning came through.

  “What do you mean, you know?” she demanded, horrified. “What has Meg been telling you? Damn it, I warned her—”

  “Calm down. She only said you’d had a rough time of it recently. Your sister is worried about you,” he explained patiently, as if to a child. “She talked to her husband and her husband mentioned it to his best friend. It’s only to be expected.”

  “Only to be expected that when I make a fool of myself the whole world has to know?” she inquired bitterly.

  “I hardly qualify as the whole world,” he said reasonably. “And I know this will come as a great shock, but the previous love affairs of Miss Cathy Whiteheart are not of great importance to me. I have a great many other things on my mind.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, and then laughed ruefully. “I always seem to be apologizing to you. Maybe it would be better if I just kept my mouth shut to begin with.”

  “Better, perhaps, but not half as interesting.” His hazel gaze raked her averted profile. “That was very noble of you, to let your sister and Charles go out tonight. I know a ride home with me was the last thing you wanted.”

  Guilt flooded Cathy’s pale cheeks. “That’s not true.”

  “Oh, then you wanted to be with me?” he inquired, a satanic lift to his brows.

  “No, of course not. I mean—” She broke off, floundering. “I wish you wouldn’t trap me into saying what I don’t mean,” she said irritably.

  “Then maybe
we’d be better off not talking at all,” he suggested in a neutral tone.

  “Better, but not as interesting,” she shot his words back to him, and was rewarded with a laugh.

  “Check and mate.” He chuckled. They fell into a silence, but a surprisingly comfortable one. It was odd, Cathy thought, that neither of them seemed to feel the need to fill the silent car with idle chatter. Leaning back against the leather seat, she shut her eyes, the tension slowly draining out of her weary body. A moment later she was sound asleep.

  She dreamed she was back with Greg, lying in his arms. It was a dream that had haunted too many of her nights during the past three months, a nightmare that had no ending. Night after night she had felt the warmth and love turn swiftly into ugly, blinding hate and pain, physical pain as she flinched from the raging fury that confronted her.

  But this time it was different. She felt the sweetness of his breath on her face, the smell of his skin, his aftershave strong in her nostrils, and she knew if she opened her eyes that Greg’s warm, hazel ones would be smiling down at her. But Greg had cold blue eyes, she thought suddenly, struggling out of the mists of sleep, and he favored a sickly sweet cologne, not the spicy tang that assailed her. Her eyes opened to stare into the hazel gaze of her dream, but it belonged to Sin MacDonald.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little dark for sunglasses?” he inquired gently, reaching out and taking them from her face before she had a chance to gather her wits and stop him. The car was parked outside her apartment building, and he was hunkered down on the sidewalk, inside the open passenger door, staring at her face in great concentration. The streetlight was very bright overhead, and she heard his sudden intake of breath.

  “My God, they’re green,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “If I’d known that I wouldn’t have let you wear those damned sunglasses for so long.”