Stormy Vows

by Iris Johansen

  So the problem was clear. In order to retain Jake's interest and her own confidence, she must become more knowledgeable. The pertinent question was, how was she going to get that expertise? She doubted that such knowledge could be obtained from books, though she was sure thousands had been written on the subject. She had no desire to experiment with any other man. Her forehead creased as she considered one possibility after another. Then her face cleared when the solution occurred to her. Of course—it was so simple. Why hadn't she thought of it before?

  Jane hurriedly rinsed the shampoo from her hair and stepped out of the shower, drying herself swiftly and slipping on the yellow terry-cloth robe and matching scuffs. There wouldn't be time to dry her hair, she decided. She wrapped a towel turban fashion around her head and swiftly left the steaming bathroom.

  In a matter of seconds she had crossed the short distance from the master suite to Lola Torres's cabin at the end of the corridor. She paused and drew a deep breath. Then, squaring her chin determinedly, she knocked firmly on the door.

  Jake Dominic scowled darkly as he checked his wristwatch impatiently. Lola was already fifteen minutes late. Kahlid had finished saying his lengthy and cheerful farewells and was waiting in the launch with the seaman who was to take them to the pier at Cozumel. Lola's luggage had been collected and placed in the launch some thirty minutes ago, yet there was still no sign of her.

  Then at last she came into view, and Jake relaxed fractionally as the Latin woman strode hurriedly toward him. An amused smile curved her lips when she saw the impatient frown on Dominic's face.

  “Don't scowl at me, querido,” she said lightly. “I would have been on time if it hadn't been for your chère amie. We have been having a little discussion.”

  “Why couldn't you have written her a letter?” Jake asked caustically. “Women have no sense of time!”

  “You're such a chauvinist, Jake,” Lola drawled. “Don't you know better than to resort to generalizations? I knew very well I was running late, but I felt that under the circumstances even you would rather I took the time to straighten out Jane's thinking.”

  Jake's eyes narrowed with sudden alertness. “And how did you accomplish that?” he asked slowly. “I was under the impression that Jane was a remarkably clear-thinking individual.”

  “In most areas I couldn't agree with you more,” she said lightly, “but it seems the child has taken it into her head that she needs a tutor.”

  “Go on,” Jake urged.

  “Jane came to see me and asked my help,” Lola reported, trying to keep a straight face, her eyes dancing. “It appears that she feels that she must improve her performance, and she elected to come to a professional.”

  “Performance?” Jake frowned, puzzled.

  Lola's lips were quirking as she supplied a highly obscene Anglo-Saxon noun.

  “Oh, my God!” Jake groaned, and ran his hand through his hair.

  Lola chuckled irrepressibly. “If only you could have seen her, Jake, sitting there like a prim and proper schoolgirl and trying to persuade me to give her lessons in the oldest profession in the world.” Her dark eyes were gleaming with laughter. “All the while she was trying to phrase it with great delicacy, so as not to hurt my feelings! She was absolutely delicious.”

  “Very amusing,” Jake said ironically, his expression far from amused. “I'm sure you were a great help to her.”

  “Oh, she had nothing so short term in mind,” Lola said, her eyes twinkling. “She suggested that once you start your next picture, she'll join me in Los Angeles for some in-depth study. She seemed to think that, with work and concentration, it shouldn't take more than a few weeks.”

  “The hell she will!” Jake exploded, his face grim.

  “I thought that would be your reaction,” Lola said tranquilly. “I tried to explain that to our little friend.”

  “You take her up on that insanity and I'll take great pleasure in breaking that lovely neck of yours, Lola.”

  “Don't be absurd, Jake,” Lola replied, affronted. “I like the child. I'm not about to get her into trouble with you,” she added with a demure smile. “I even told her that you must be more than satisfied with her to reject my expert services. It's up to you to build up her confidence if you want her to forget this foolishness.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” he remarked caustically. “I'll handle Jane in my own way, if you don't mind.”

  She shrugged. “I was only trying to help,” she said, turning away to descend the ladder into the waiting launch. She turned back abruptly, her face serious. “The only reason I mentioned our conversation at all was that I don't think I convinced Jane. She seems remarkably single-minded.”

  “Remarkably,” Dominic agreed dryly, his taut face echoing his exasperation. “I haven't the least doubt that she'll carry it through with all the subtlety of a steamroller. I'll have to watch her like a hawk or she'll be opportuning the madams of every bawdy house in L.A. for lessons.”

  Lola's dark eyes were gleaming. “There is another way, you know.”

  He looked at her inquiringly.

  “You could tell her that you love her,” she said.

  Dominic's body stiffened as if she had struck him. His face was abruptly wiped free of expression, the dark eyes shuttered. “Could I?” he asked tonelessly. “It isn't usually your custom to meddle, Lola. I wouldn't advise you to start now.” He gestured toward the waiting launch. “You have a plane to catch.”

  The music was as soft and sensuous as an intimate caress. They moved slowly around the dance floor, their arms wound around each other in the dimness of the crowded room. In the past few weeks Jane had noticed that in the wee hours of the morning the band at El Invernardero invariably discarded the lively disco numbers and played only mellow romantic tunes suited to lovers. This met with her complete approval, and she nestled closer to Jake with a sigh of contentment.

  Jake looked down at her, his eyebrow cocked inquiringly. “Tired?” he asked softly. “Would you like to go back to the yacht?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet,” she said dreamily. “I love to dance with you. Let's stay a little longer.”

  His arms tightened around her, but his voice was light. “Oh, for the energy of the young,” he said, pulling a face. “Do you realize that this is the third time this week we've been here until four in the morning? You're going to make a physical wreck out of me, woman.”

  She looked up swiftly, her smile impudent. “You look in remarkably good shape to me in spite of our nights of dissipation,” she said teasingly. “I didn't hear you complain when I suggested we come tonight.”

  Jake always looked devastatingly attractive in evening clothes, she thought. Tonight he was wearing the more conventional black tuxedo, and he looked as dangerous and virile as a stalking panther.

  His eyes were flickering with mischief. “I wasn't anticipating a night on the tiles so much as my reward at the end of it,” he murmured outrageously. “Gratitude always makes you more passionate.”

  They were both aware that this was patently untrue. He had only to touch her and Jane responded with all the combustibility of a brushfire in a windstorm. She looked back in wonderment on the casual, almost sexless woman she had been before Jake Dominic. He had thrown open all the doors of physical pleasure for her curious and delighted exploration, and she was as addicted to his lovemaking now as if it were the fruit of the poppy.

  She suddenly grinned in amusement at the memory of the scene in Jake's cabin after Lola and Kahlid had left the Sea Breeze. He had been as outraged as a Victorian husband. While she had sat wide-eyed and cowed by his strong reaction to what had seemed to her a reasonable and simple solution to her problem, he had strode back and forth, wildly condemning her “hare-brained” ideas with fluent and precise obscenities. He had then turned to face her with a forbidding frown.

  “So help me God, I don't want to catch you so much as asking a question of anyone, other than the time of day! If you want to learn any litt
le erotic variations, come to me, damn it. I believe I have sufficient experience to satisfy you!” He had stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door with explosive force behind him.

  Jake's claim had proved a massive understatement, and she hadn't needed to ask. She found the variations mentioned no less exciting than the more conventional sex play, and she had embraced them with her usual enthusiasm. To her delight, Jake's passion for her had exhibited no signs of waning since Lola's departure, and in fact his hunger seemed to increase rather than diminish. At times he took her with an almost insatiable desperation that was as heady as strong wine and left her glowing with love and the faint stirrings of hope. He had never said he loved her even in the throes of the strongest passion, nor had he ever indicated that their relationship was anything more than temporary. But surely she must mean something to him if she could stir him to such heights of pleasure.

  There were other moments, too, that promised much. Golden moments of shared laughter and more serious conversation, when the exploration of mind and emotion was as precious as that of their bodies. The man who spoke of his work with such single-minded passion was as far removed from the mocking playboy as night was from day. It was no wonder he was so successful at his craft, she had thought at one point, watching the eager flare in the usually jaded eyes. She felt a twinge of jealousy as she realized that here was a much more formidable rival than Cindy Lockwood or Lola Torres, and then dismissed the thought immediately as unworthy. She loved the total Jake Dominic, and the composite was created as much from the brilliance and drive of this other aspect of his personality as it was from the devilish charm and mercurial temperament that made her totally his.

  Jane recognized that this was a halcyon period of jewel-bright days to be treasured and stored up against the time when she would no longer be Jake Dominic's sole interest. If she was to keep whatever affection he felt for her, she must release him to this other mistress. Her thoughts had been turning more and more frequently to that time when Jake would return to work, and she knew that she must be prepared to substitute another interest when it happened.

  “You're very thoughtful, redhead,” Dominic commented teasingly. “I think you're half asleep.”

  “I was wondering if I should begin thinking about a career,” she said seriously.

  The smile faded from Dominic's face as he pulled her possessively closer. “Plenty of time for that,” he said impatiently. “It seems that I must redouble my efforts to keep you interested.”

  “No, really, Jake,” she persisted. “Don't you think—”

  “I think I want another glass of champagne,” he interrupted abruptly, stopping in the middle of the dance floor. “And I think you're being much too serious.” Keeping his arm firmly around her waist, he guided her swiftly among the dancers to their table.

  As he pulled her chair out for her, he said lightly. “Did I tell you that you're completely captivating in that gown? You remind me of the cotton candy that I used to buy at the circus.” He bent closer and bit gently on her left earlobe. “Pink, fluffy, and utterly delicious,” he murmured.

  The chiffon gown in question was a pink so pale it was almost white, and she knew it looked exceptionally good with her fiery curls. Since Jake had already commented on this curious phenomenon earlier in the evening, she recognized the compliment as an obvious ploy to distract her. She shot Jake an exasperated glance when he slipped into his own chair. She knew better than to try to pursue a subject when Jake wanted it dropped. He could be maddeningly elusive at times. She would just have to broach the subject when he was more amenable.

  “I always thought of cotton candy as cloying, sticky-sweet stuff surrounding an empty cone,” she said caustically, still annoyed with him.

  He raised his glass to his lips, his black eyes amused. “No one could ever accuse you of being cloying and sticky-sweet, redhead,” he said, his lips twitching. “And I assure you, I intend to make every effort to make sure that the cone is not empty tonight.”

  “Jake!” she said, color flooding her face. Would she never be able to control these damn blushes? she thought. Jake took a satanic delight in making these outrageous remarks just to see her light up like a Christmas tree. She looked across the table at his mocking devil's face and met his dark laughing eyes.

  Suddenly Jake's face was no longer laughing, and his eyes were flickering with a different emotion entirely. Her breath caught as the world narrowed down to contain just the two of them, in the now-familiar pattern.

  He put down his glass and said thickly, “It's time to go home, redhead.”

  She nodded dreamily and rose to her feet, gathering up her wispy pink wrap and the tiny brocade evening bag as he carelessly threw some bills on the table. She turned to precede him, and was startled by a sudden blinding light.

  “Hold it, Mr. Dominic, just one more, please.”

  There was a muttered curse from behind her, and suddenly she was pushed aside. The plump, fortyish photographer in a gray business suit had time only to shout a frantic protest before Jake wrested the camera from him and dashed it to the floor with all his strength.

  “My God, you've broken it!” the man yelped furiously. “That's an eight-hundred-dollar camera!”

  “Send me the bill,” Jake said icily. Grasping Jane by the elbow, he pushed her through the whispering, staring crowd, his face white and strained with anger.

  He was grimly silent on the taxi ride to the pier, his demeanor forbidding. It was only as the launch was nearing the Sea Breeze that Jane ventured to ask a question.

  “Who was he?”

  “Probably one of the freelance reporters who hang around resort towns and peddle their garbage to any rag that will print it,” Dominic spat out.

  “Was it wise to have gotten so violent?” she asked quietly. “Surely that will only make him more determined.”

  “Would you rather have your face spread over some scandal sheet as Jake Dominic's latest playmate?” he asked savagely.

  “It wouldn't be pleasant,” she admitted. “But it would be better than having you sued for damages.”

  “Forget it!” he ordered harshly. “I'll buy the bastard a new camera, and that will be the end of it.”

  Jane obediently subsided, but it was obvious that Jake did not forget the incident. He was moody and uncommunicative during the rest of the trip back to the yacht, and they had no sooner reached their cabin than he brought her forcefully into his arms.

  There was a curious tinge of urgency in the way he stripped off the pink gown and tumbled her onto the bed. Tonight there were no preliminaries as he took her with a driving force that contained a bewildering element of desperation. There was an excitement all its own in his raw thrusting need, and when his strong body lay shuddering helplessly in her arms in an agony of release, she knew a satisfaction that was as primal as that of the first woman.

  eleven

  THE PICTURE WAS REALLY QUITE GOOD OF both of them, Jane thought absently as she spread the newspaper out on her lap. It was a Spanish-language newspaper, but the message would have been clear if it had been written in Swahili. Jake's possessive hand on her arm and the expression of dreamy desire on her own face told their own story. Lord, had she really been so transparent? She might just as well have worn a placard around her neck.

  She looked up into Jake's face with wary eyes. It had been four days since the incident at El Invernardero, and Jake had been more moody and restless than she had ever seen him. Jane had been sunbathing in a deck chair when she had seen Jake striding toward her, his face a mask of rage, the newspaper clutched in his hand.

  He had thrown the newspaper in her lap with a curt, “Look at this. That damn reporter sent it with the bill for his camera.”

  “He must have managed to salvage the film from the wreckage,” she replied calmly. Her eyes ran swiftly over the accompanying story, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “It's mostly speculation and innuendo. I was afraid they might have stumbled on how I came to be
on board the Sea Breeze.” She made a wry face. “That would have been quite a scoop. Can't you see the headline: ‘From bomb to bed!’”

  “Jane!” Jake said savagely. “Don't you realize what this means? The A.P. is bound to pick up the story—it's too juicy to miss. In two days this picture will be in every newspaper in the world.”

  “I rather thought it would,” Jane said quietly, folding the paper and dropping it distastefully to the deck. Her face was a little paler, but she smiled valiantly. “Well, it had to come sometime.”

  “Is that all you've got to say?” Jake asked hoarsely, his fists clenched in an effort to control the emotions that were running through him like high tide. He stooped to pick up the newspaper and waved it at her. “You'll be the topic of conversation and smutty little remarks over breakfast tables everywhere, and all you have to say is, ‘It had to come sometime.’” He crumpled the newspaper into a ball and threw it over the rail into the sea.

  “Aren't you overreacting?” she asked. “There have been dozens of other stories printed about you before with one woman or another and you obviously haven't given a damn.”

  Jake flinched, his face looking strangely vulnerable for a brief moment before it hardened into an unreadable mask. “Perhaps I'm getting tired of having my affairs publicized to give the masses a cheap thrill.”

  Jane gave him a skeptical glance. She knew that Jake couldn't care less what people thought of him. This violent reaction was completely out of character.

  “It's not as if I hadn't known what to expect. I didn't walk into our relationship with my eyes closed. I knew that if I became your mistress, a certain amount of notoriety was inevitable. I accepted and came to terms with that fact a long time ago.”

  “How very adult and civilized of you,” Jake snapped, his nostrils flaring. “Well, you're not going to have to test your sophistication in this instance. It's all over.”