Chain of Love (16 page)

“You’re still a sexist,” she fought back. “You pulled your punch. If you really looked on me as an equal you would have hit me
harder.”

His strong jaw tightened, and the exasperation that washed over his face was coupled with an awe-inspiring rage. Flinging her wrist away in disgust, he
turned and strode out onto the balcony, his broad back to her, as he took several deep, calming breaths. A moment later he turned back to her, a somewhat
rueful expression on his face.

“You just made me lose my temper, Cathy,” he said in a deceptively mild tone. “And I can be a hell of a lot more sexist than that. Come
here, woman.” Not waiting for her, he began to stalk her, a dangerous, determined glint in his eyes.

“No, Sin.” She began to back away from him, panic and a strange anticipation causing her heart to pound furiously against her rib cage.

“No, Sin,” he mocked. With his long legs he could move much faster than she could, and he caught up with her before she was halfway to the
door. “How about, yes, Sin? Please, Sin? I’d like that, Sin?” His mouth was poised over hers as his arms held her pinned against his iron
body. “Why do you fight me, Cathy? Why are you determined to think the worst of me? I spent the night on board the yacht because I didn’t trust
myself sharing a room with you. You sent me away last night. How was I to know you’d change your mind?”

“I—I didn’t change my mind,” she breathed, mesmerized by the mouth that was hovering just above hers.

“Then why did you sleep in my bed?” he queried again.

“Because I’m a fool,” she whispered, closing her eyes as his mouth descended. Instead of the brutal assault she was somehow expecting,
his mouth proved even more devastating. Light, clinging little kisses brushed across her tremulous lips, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids. His mouth
traced the still stinging imprint of his hand on her cheek, his lips nibbled on one pink earlobe, and then trailed down the slender column of her neck.
Gentle, coaxing, teasing little kisses that left her trembling and completely demoralized. She slid her arms up his broad, naked back, pressing her body
closer to his, her head flung back to give him better access to the sensitive hollow of her throat, the long blond hair a rippling curtain down her back.
And then the world swung crazily about her as he scooped her up in his arms, holding her against his chest.

“Are you still a fool?” he whispered in her ear, his tongue tracing delicate little patterns as he moved toward the rumpled bed.

“Sin,” she whispered, reaching up to entwine her hands in his soft brown curls. Her mouth met his, eagerly, hungrily as he laid her down on the
soft bed, following her down, his body half covering hers, as the kiss deepened, her lips opening to meet his thrusting tongue as it explored the moist,
sweet interior of her seeking mouth. “Yes,” she murmured helplessly, as one hand cupped her full, straining breast, his thumb gently teasing
the nipple until it stiffened against him. “Yes, yes, yes,” she cried, as his hand slid down her thigh and began to lift the terry cloth robe.

The shrill ringing of the bedside telephone ripped them out of their dream of passion. With a precise expletive Sin rolled away from her, grabbing the
phone before she could make a dive for it, and barking angrily, “Yes?”

As Cathy lay there, her robe up around her hips, her breath returning to normal, sanity began to edge back. Sin suddenly seemed to loom large and
frightening beside her, his naked torso glistening with sweat, his broad shoulders tense with frustration and sudden anger.

“What?” he snapped into the telephone. “Are you sure?” He listened for another moment. “Well, Miss Whiteheart won’t be
needing the reservation after all. Thanks for your trouble, but her plans have changed. Yes, that’s right.” He slammed the receiver down, then
turned back to Cathy’s suddenly cowering figure.

Pulling herself upright, she managed to meet him glare for glare. “You had no right to do that,” she said. “I have every intention of
going back to Washington today.”

“Why?” It was a simple enough question, but it was enough to break Cathy’s tenuous self-control.

“Because I don’t dare spend any more time with you!” she cried. “Can’t you see what this is doing to me? I don’t want
to have a casual affair with you, Sin. I can’t take that sort of thing. I’m not sophisticated enough to take and discard lovers like a change
of clothes.”

“You think it would be like that?” His voice was slow and deep and his face was unreadable.

“I know it would. You’d get tired of coping with me, and some day, sooner or later, someone like Joyce Whatever-her-name-was will show up and
you’ll be off.”

“You have a lot of faith in me,” he said lightly, his hand gently smoothing a strand of hair away from her brow.

“Don’t do that!” she cried desperately. “Leave me alone, please. If you don’t...” She let the sentence trail.

“If I don’t?” he prompted, his voice deep and infinitely tender.

“If you don’t,” she continued weakly, “you’ll only break my heart. And I couldn’t bear it.” Burying her face in
her arms, she gave in to the tears that had racked her body the previous night. As she lay. there she could feel his hazel eyes watching her, feel his
warm, soothing presence beside her on the bed. But he made no move to comfort her, merely waiting until her sobs slowly died away.

“As I see it,” Sin’s voice said slowly, consideringly, “we have two options. Taking as given that I’m not about to let you go
back to Washington, that is.”

His reasonable tone was enough to make her raise her damp face curiously. “Why not?” she asked in a husky, tear-drenched voice.

He had moved to the other side of the bed and was leaning against the pillows. “Because I’m not,” he replied shortly. “I want you
here with me. So my options are simple: I can either kidnap you and keep you on my yacht, or”—he gave her a devastating smile—”we
can get married.”

The world seemed to spin about her. “I don’t consider that amusing,” she snapped.

“I wasn’t planning on amusing you,” he replied easily, it’s very simple to get a marriage license on St. Alphonse. We could be
married this afternoon and then take off on Tamlyn for a honeymoon. Away from telephones and old flames and other distractions. What do you think?”

Cathy sat bolt upright, straightening the terry robe primly. “I think you’re out of your mind,” she announced firmly. “Why in the
world would you want to marry me? You aren’t in love with me.” There was still enough foolishness in her that she hoped he might deny it.

He leaned back meditatively. “I don’t know,” he said dreamily. His eyes met hers suddenly, and Cathy felt a tightening in her stomach at
the desire that blazed there. “I do know that I want to be with you. I want to make love to you, morning, noon, and night. You were made to be loved,
Cathy, and you’ve spent far too much of your life celibate.”

“That’s not enough of a reason to get married,” she said quietly. “Simple sexual attraction isn’t enough. We could sleep
together without getting married.”

“Who said there was anything simple about sexual attraction?” he countered. “And there’s more to it than sex, my love. I want to
protect you, take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Nonsense. You’re far too vulnerable. How you could have gotten this far in life and still have remained so innocent is beyond me.” He
shook his head in amazement. “And though you’re one of the toughest ladies I’ve ever met, you still need me.”

“To protect me?” she repeated skeptically. “I don’t think that’s reason enough.”

“What about this?” Before she could divine his intention, he had moved across the bed and caught her in his arms, his mouth crushing hers with
a ruthless, demoralizing passion that was as soul-destroying as it was efficient. Part of her knew very well he was doing everything he could to turn her
into a quivering mass of desire in the shortest amount of time. She knew it, and was helpless against it.

He moved his mouth a fraction of an inch away, keeping his arms securely around her. Not that she was about to try to struggle out of his embrace, she
thought dizzily. “Marry me,” he whispered.

“No.” She shook her head, and his lips caught hers, gently teasing her into opening her mouth.

“Marry me,” he said again, his tongue tracing her upper lip.

“No.” The sound was definitely weaker. One hand released its hold on her waist and cupped her soft breast.

“Marry me.” He had moved her robe aside, and his tongue swirled around the rosy-tipped peak. A small, quiet moan of surrender emitted from the
back of Cathy’s throat.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Cathy went through the wedding in a dream. She had dressed in the cream linen suit that Meg had rushed out and bought her, squeezed her feet into the
matching shoes that were half a size too small, and stood in front of a tall black civil servant with her sister and Charles to one side and Sin, tall and
somber and sinfully handsome, on the other. His voice had been low and deep and sure as he repeated the simple vows, Cathy’s tone was a thin, reedy
sound. What am I doing, she demanded of herself as she held out her hand and felt the thin gold band slip over her finger. Am I out of my mind?

Doubts had assailed her immediately. The moment she had whispered “yes” Sin had pulled away from her and rolled off the bed. “I feel like
I’ve been waiting centuries,” he’d said, shrugging into a forest-green polo shirt. “I can wait a few more hours. Besides, if
we’re going to get married this afternoon I have a thousand things to do.”

Dropping a kiss on her bewildered forehead, he had vanished from the hotel room.

And this was the first time she had seen him since he had seduced her into agreeing to his crazy proposal. Standing tall and straight in front of the
justice of the peace, with no chance for Cathy to come up with the hundred and one objections that had flooded her mind since he’d left her.

Even Meg had seemed strangely preoccupied, chattering at a breakneck speed that allowed Cathy no time at all for reflection or even confidences. All the
while her dark eyes were troubled. Now as she stood next to her, holding the small bouquet of gardenias Sin had bought her, the troubled expression was
still there. Out of the corner of her eye Cathy watched Charles reach out and pat Meg’s hand in a reassuring gesture. He looked slightly grim around
the mouth too, and Cathy’s doubts increased tenfold.

Too late. “I now pronounce you man and wife,” the justice announced. In a daze Cathy felt Sin’s lips brush hers, followed by Charles and
Meg, the doubts erased from their smiling countenances.

“I’ll call Pops for you,” Meg promised. “Leave it to me. He’ll probably raise holy hell, but then, that’s his usual
style.” She hugged her again, tears bright in her eyes. “God, I hope you’re happy, Cath.”

“Now, now, we don’t need tears, darling,” Charles chided genially, and Cathy couldn’t tell if the geniality was forced or not.
“I thought you loved romance.”

“I just want to make sure Cathy’s happy,” Meg wailed, casting a fulminating glance at Sin’s bland exterior. “And you’d
damn well better know what you’re doing,” she informed her new brother-in-law.

Sin took this veiled threat in good part. “I do,” he said simply, his arm moving to encircle Cathy’s waist. She looked up at him, belated
surprise and the return of her doubts clouding her expression.

“Well, shall we see the happy couple off, Meg?” Charles tried to inject a note of normalcy into the proceedings. “There’s a bottle
of champagne chilling on Tamlyn. I suggest we go toast the marriage and then let these two get off on their honeymoon.”

“Sounds good,” Sin agreed easily, taking her arm in a lightly possessive grip and guiding her toward the door. She tripped, and his grip
tightened. “Are you all right?” The concern in his warm hazel eyes momentarily banished every doubt that had assailed her.

“I’m fine,” she managed. “I’m not used to these shoes.”

“It’s bad luck for a bride to trip on her wedding day,” Meg broke in before Sin could respond. “That’s why they’re
carried over thresholds.”

“I guess we didn’t get off to a very good start then,” Cathy said with a shaky laugh. Sin’s body seemed curiously tense beside her,
and she wished she could shake this sense of impending doom.

“We’ll make up for it,” Sin promised firmly, smiling down at her, and the warmth in his eyes melted her misgivings. When he looked at her
like that she would do anything for him, even something as abysmally stupid and short-sighted as rushing into marriage.

Smiling back at him, she slipped out of her tight shoes and handed them to a bewildered Meg. “We need all the luck we can get,” she murmured.
“I don’t want to tempt fate again.”

And barefoot, she went with Sin out into the blazing tropical sunlight.

She had changed out of her linen dress and put on slim-fitting designer jeans and an oversized white cotton tunic that emphasized her tan while merely
hinting at the ripe young curves beneath its billowing lines, and then joined her new husband on the deck as they sailed out of the harbor. They
hadn’t talked much, Sin being involved in the navigation of the yacht and Cathy being stricken with sudden, tongue-tied shyness. They had reached the
tiny cove on the uninhabited island south of St. Alphonse in just under five hours, and right now the delicious odor of broiling steaks wafted in the open
cabin door. Sin had insisted on taking care of dinner that night, brushing aside her offers of assistance with gentle determination. So that all she could
do was sit barefoot on the bed she’d soon be sharing with her new husband and wonder if she’d gone out of her mind.

“Do you want some wine?” he called out cheerfully as he worked on the salad. “Or a drink of some sort?”

“No, thank you,” she replied politely enough, leaning her head out of the cabin door for a moment. The small dimensions of the main cabin
seemed dwarfed next to Sin’s height. His back was to her, the faded jeans tight across his hips and clinging to his long, long legs. The
western-style shirt hugged his broad shoulders, emphasizing the latent power they contained. With a sigh, Cathy moved back into the cabin, leaning up
against the bulkhead. Why? she asked herself one more time. And with a sudden, blinding clarity, she knew.