Chain of Love (11 page)

“Out of the question,” Sin interrupted, a trace of a smile on his lips. “I’ve had to put up with Charles’s snoring for the
past eight days. I more than deserve a break. That is, presuming you don’t snore?”

“Of course I don’t!” she said, affronted. “But I can’t ask you to share this room with me. It wouldn’t be fair to you.
I’ll take a plane home as soon as I can make arrangements.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” He was off the bed in one fluid leap and standing in front of her, towering over her, that lean, panther look
about him once more. She could feel the body heat emanating from him. “I know it’s not your fault that the hotel got our reservations mixed up,
and that’s no reason to cancel your plans. Meg still needs you; you must know that after spending the last few days with her, Charles is devoted, but
men leave something to be desired in a delicate situation like this.”

“I don’t know why you keep assuming I’d know any more about this than a man would,” Cathy broke in irritably. “After all,
I’ve never been pregnant.”

“I hadn’t thought you had,” he said mildly. “Maybe I’m romantic enough to think the mystical bond between all women comes
through at a time like this. Meg needs you as much as ever, and I think you need this vacation. Despite this latest tantrum, you look a lot more relaxed
than you did in Washington. Listen, we’re both adults, and this room is gigantic, with two nice, large beds. I don’t see why we can’t
manage to share this room very comfortably.”

“But what if — if you meet someone ?” she stammered, flushing beneath his ironic gaze. “And you wanted to take her to your room?
Wouldn’t that present somewhat of a problem?”

“I didn’t come down here to ‘meet someone,’“ he mocked her delicate phrasing. “One-night stands have never been my
thing. And if I happen to get carried away by my passions I could always go to her hotel room. The same goes for you.”

“No!” she refuted the idea instantly. “I have no intention of... of...” Her voice trailed away.

“Well, then, that’s settled. We’ll live a very peaceful, celibate life while we’re here. I’ll be an eagle scout and you can
be a nun, and we should get along beautifully. Anyway, I intend to spend most of my nights at the casino. I only allow myself to gamble two weeks of the
year, and this is one of my weeks.” He sat back down to put on the other aging Adidas.

Cathy let out a small sigh of relief, trying to squash the last traces of uneasiness. It should all work out after all. “I didn’t know eagle
scouts gambled,” she said pertly.

He grinned at her. “That’s the girl,” he approved, somewhat mysteriously. “And I didn’t know nuns wore gold earrings.”

“By the way, roomie,” she said after a long moment. “That’s my bed you’re sitting on. I got first dibs.”

“Would you care to toss for it?” he shot back.

“My, my, you are going to spend all your time gambling, aren’t you?” she mocked. “No, I don’t want to toss for it. Possession
is nine tenths of the law, and that bed is mine.”

“Yes’m. I’m going down for a drink. Would you care to accompany me?” He rose to his full height, stretching luxuriously. Every
muscle seemed to ripple beneath his bronze skin, and Cathy felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“No, thank you. I’ve been out in the sun too long as it is. I’m going to take a shower and then a nap.” She managed a convincing
yawn, despite the fact that her earlier lassitude had vanished.

“See you, then.” A moment later he was gone, the door closed and locked behind his tall, well-shaped back. There was one problem with this
situation, Cathy thought belatedly. It was all very well and good to share a room platonically, when Sin MacDonald had as much interest in her as if she
were his sister. And an older sister at that.

But it would have been a hell of a lot better if she were equally indifferent to him.

A long, cold shower might not have worked wonders, but by the time Cathy had washed the salt out of her hair and dried it in the soft trade winds off her
balcony, then dressed for dinner and downed an icy piña colada, she was feeling up to facing almost anything. If only, she thought mournfully, she had
managed to pack some of her new clothes. The one dinner dress was a boring cotton A-line with a high neck, an outfit that Georgia had once stigmatized as
worthy of a grand-mother from Hartford. It wasn’t quite that bad, Cathy thought, twirling in front of the full-length mirror and posing coquettishly.
The predominant colors were a shell pink that gave her skin a special glow and a sea green that matched her eyes. If the cut did nothing for her figure,
well, then, at least it didn’t make her look dumpy. Just sort of boring. It was fortunate she wasn’t out to entice any man, wasn’t it?
she demanded of her reflection. Her reflection responded with a frankly skeptical look.

The bathroom had almost broken her resolve. Sitting on the shelf beside her meager stash of makeup was a brown leather shaving bag. Hanging on the back of
the door was a velour robe, still damp from his shower, and on top of the sink was his toothbrush. It was all so uncomfortably intimate, just as if they
were an old married couple.

But damn it, if he could survive this situation unmoved, then she would hardly be the one to cry coward. She could be just as cool and remote as he could,
she told herself. She could take things in her stride.

It was a decided shock to watch all six feet four of Sin MacDonald stride into her bedroom as if he belonged there. As indeed, he did, Cathy reminded
herself from her perch by the window.

“You’re already dressed,” he observed as he crossed the room. “Good. It won’t take me long to change. I told Meg and Charles
we’d meet them down in the Windjammer Room.” He already had his shirt halfway over his head. Cathy allowed herself one furtive glance at all
that sun-bronzed flesh before returning her attention to the sea outside the balcony. Tossing the shirt on his bed, he stood there, his eyes alight with
amusement. “I bet I’m supposed to change in the bathroom.”

“You guessed right. I may as well go down.” Cathy headed toward the door, only to have her bare upper arm caught in his iron grip. He held her
gently, but there was steel in his fingers, and Cathy knew perfectly well she wouldn’t escape until he was ready to let her go.

“You may as well wait for me,” he corrected gently. “If you were rooming with another woman you’d wait, wouldn’t you?”

Reluctantly she nodded. “I suppose I would.”

“So, you see. You can be just as polite with me. Besides, I hate to enter a dining room alone. Makes me nervous,” he announced cheerfully.

“Liar. Nothing short of a great white shark would make you nervous,” Cathy joked back feebly.

Sin’s grin broadened, and with his other hand he gave her a mock clip on the jaw. “That’s it, kid. Don’t let me browbeat
you.” He released her arm, grabbed a pile of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Cathy to stare after him with a bemused smile on her
face.

Dinner was a great deal more relaxed than Cathy had anticipated. For one thing, Sin seemed to go out of his way to be charming in an easy, comfortably
nonthreatening manner. Not a glance, not an innuendo that wasn’t entirely proper was cast in her direction. The subjects ranged from the lengthy trip
down on Tamlyn and the various squalls the men had run into, to Meg’s morning sickness to the myriad delights of the shopping on St. Alphonse.

“You mean to say you haven’t been into town yet?” Sin demanded, astonished, as they were finishing their after-dinner coffee. “I
don’t believe it. I’ve never heard of a woman who passed by the chance to go shopping.”

“Sexist,” Cathy replied lazily. “Not every female jumps at the chance to spend a day wandering around crowded shops.”

“Every one I’ve ever met has,” he replied frankly. “You must be a very unnatural woman.”

The lazy smile vanished from Cathy’s face instantly as her blood seemed to freeze. I won’t make a scene, she told herself. I’ve already
stormed out of a restaurant once, I won’t allow myself to do it again. If I just take a few deep breaths it should be all right. One. Two. Three.
There, I’m just fine.

“Are you all right, Cathy?” Meg’s worried voice broke through her abstraction. “You suddenly look quite pale.”

Managing a light laugh, Cathy shook back her hair. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired, I guess. Too much time in the hot sun. I don’t
think I’ll come to the casino with you. Gambling doesn’t hold that great an attraction for me anyway, and I’m quite exhausted.”

“But it won’t be any fun without you!” Meg pouted.

“Don’t be silly. You’ll have two handsome men at your side—you’ll be in seventh heaven,” she replied weakly. “And
if you’ll all excuse me, I think I’ll go on up now.” Before anyone could do more than protest she had slid from behind the table and
headed for the door with as much speed as a graceful departure could manage.

The beach in front of the hotel was blessedly deserted. The moon was getting on toward full, shining down on the water and up the sand in a trail of
moonfire. Slipping off her high-heeled sandals, Cathy moved down the beach by the water, the cool, wet sand beneath her bare feet soothing. It was very
peaceful and quiet, with only the sound of the water lapping gently on the shore and the trade winds rustling the palm trees to keep her company. The
lights of the hotel were hazy behind her, casting a soft glow over the beach. Heading for the farthest beach chair, she sat down on the wide chaise longue
and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and hugging herself against the loneliness of the night.

His voice was gentle on the night breeze. “May I sit with you?”

She had felt his presence from a long way off, though his approach across the sand had been silent. Somehow she had known Sin MacDonald wasn’t going
to leave her to her misery alone on the beach. She kept her eyes on the shimmering water in front of her, wondering what would happen if she refused to
answer. Would he take matters into his own hands and sit beside her? And then she could fence with him and perhaps take his comfort without having to put
forth anything of her own.

But Sin knew her too well. He continued to stand there, calmly, patiently, awaiting her answer.

“Yes, please,” Cathy whispered in a very small voice. Without a word he settled down beside her, his long, tuxedo-clad legs stretched out in
front of him, the moonlight shining on his white shirt-front. It had been a considerable surprise to Cathy—how well he looked in evening clothes. She
had imagined with his broad shoulders and craggy good looks that he’d appear out of place in anything besides corduroys or faded denims. But he had
confounded that vague hope, appearing in black tie and looking, if possible, even more devastating.

The chaise longue, built for two occupants, was suddenly far less roomy. Cathy could feel the length of his thigh pressed against her hip, and the intimacy
of it sent her heart racing.

Sin, however, appeared unmoved by her proximity. He leaned back and stared up into the starry night sky. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was
it?” he inquired gently. He reached out and took her hand in his large, capable one, and immediately Cathy felt the same feelings of power and warmth
flowing through her. It was a comfortable feeling.

“No,” she agreed. “Not so hard.” They sat in companionable silence, and the sound of their breathing mingled with the sea and the
wind.

After a long moment he spoke. Cathy could feel his breath stirring her hair, knew his probing eyes were upon her. “What did he do to you,
Cathy?” The question was gentle, and for the first time in four months Cathy knew she could answer.

“You don’t really want to know.” She hesitated with a trace of grimness. “It’s not very pleasant.”

“I hadn’t imagined it would be. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know,” he replied. His hand reached up behind her
neck and she felt herself being drawn inexorably closer, to rest against his broad shoulder. One arm was around her, holding her close to the
sweet-smelling warmth of him, as the other kneaded the base of her neck with slow, sure strokes. “I don’t think you’re going to get over
it until you tell someone. And I think your roommate is as good a person as any. I’m not likely to condemn you or pass judgment.”

Cathy could feel the tension drain out of her as she was enveloped in his calming strength. “I condemn myself,” she said in a soft, bitter
voice. “For being such a fool, and for going back for more. I should have known he was only interested in my money. There were enough signs of it.
But I simply refused to see it.

“You see, I loved him. He was the only man I’d ever slept with, the only man I trusted enough to go to bed with. And he was so patient with my
problems, and understanding, so how could I help but be grateful? He had to put up with so much from me, I felt I should... I should...” Her voice
strangled to a stop, and she shut her eyes. Sin’s gentle hand kept stroking the back of her neck.

“What problems, Cathy?” His voice was a deep, gentle rumble beneath her head. “What did he have to put up with, that you should be so
grateful?”

I don’t believe I’m talking about this, Cathy thought mistily. It’s as if he has some magic power over me, enticing from me all my
deepest secrets. “I...don’t enjoy having sex,” she confessed finally.

“Says who?” His arm tightened around her, and Cathy could feel a strange tremor pass over his body, followed by another. Almost like a
smothered laugh. But he couldn’t be laughing.

“Greg. You see, I didn’t—didn’t respond at first. It was a long time before I could even enjoy the thought of making love with him.
And even when I could, it took me so long to warm up, to respond to him... that he’d be finished. He said he didn’t mind, but I know he did.
And he told me I was unnatural, once when we were having a fight.”

“No wonder you got upset at dinner. He sounds like a real charmer, your Greg. When did he break your nose?”

“I don’t—don’t remember,” she said faintly.