Stormspell (11 page)

Snatching up a towel, she let herself out of the bungalow, treading softly across the verandah and down the steps. Then, giving in to the surge of well- being that the morning evoked, she ran swiftly across the dunes and down on to the smooth damp firmness of the sand. Her hair, sleek and unconfined, streamed behind her. and she spread her arms and did a couple of pirouettes before becoming aware that she was not alone. A man was standing near the water's edge, looking her way. and she sobered rapidly as she realised he had been watching her. He was a tall man. lean and muscular, not a West Indian, but with darkly tanned skin that contrasted sharply with his light hair—

She put uncertain fingers to her lips. It was Mr Howard, she realised in amazement, or Mr
Crown.
as she had to get used to calling him. It was he who had been walking on the beach at this early hour of the morning, and as he began to stroll towards her she saw the bandage projecting from the turned- back sleeve of his shirt.

He looked different with his clothes on, shethought, and then blushed at the connotation, but she hadn't realised he was so tall, or that a man could move so lithely. He had a co-ordinated indolence that was almost graceful, and the pants hanging low on his hips accentuated the powerful movement of his thighs. They must be the levis Joseph had told her about the previous day. and she couldn't help feeling that they were not quite decent. They moulded his legs like a second skin, hugging his hips and drawing her unwilling attention to the awareness of his undoubted masculinity. Even his shirt, opened down the smooth expanse of his chest, was not like the shirts her father or Joseph or any of the men she knew wore. It was soft and expensive, like the clothes she had seen in the shop window in Kingstown. and the tawny silk matched the feline lightness of his eyes.

'Hello.' he said, when he neared her. his eyes narrowed now against the glare, and she was made instantly aware of the brevity of her own attire. His stare was as comprehensive as hers, and his voice was husky as he added: 'I guess you're going swimming. I wish I could come with you.'

Ruth moistened her upper lip. noticing as she did so that his skin was covered with a gilding of perspiration. In spite of his words and his apparent recovery, she guessed he was exhausted by his exertions. and her first words mirrored her anxiety.

'Ought you to be up?' she exclaimed, forgetting her embarrassment in her concern for his welfare. 'Doctor Francis said—'

'I know what Francis said.' Dominic interrupted her flatly. 'And you didn't answer me.'

'Of course I intended to go swimming.' Ruth admitted. 'But I think I ought to get you back to the house—'

'I'm not an invalid,' he averred, sinking down on to the sand at her feet and spreading his long legs. 'Nor do I need you to tell me what to do. Go and take your swim. I'll watch you. I need a break from the monotony of those four walls.'

Ruth hesitated, looking down at him. and he reached up to tug the towel from her fingers. 'Go on.' he said, his eyes heavy with fatigue and something else she couldn't identify. 'I won't leave here. I promise you.'

Ruth shifted restlessly, scuffing her toe in the sand. 'I ought to talk to you.' she murmured, glancing sideways at him. 'When I went to the bank yesterday—'

'—they told you who I was, right?' Dominic shaded his eyes with one hand as he looked up at her. 'So—okay, you know now. Does it make any difference?'

Ruth sighed. 'Why did you lie? Why did you tell us the wrong name?'

'I didn't." Dominic dropped his hand and fixed his gaze on the far horizon. 'My names are Dominic and Howard. I just didn't give you all my names, that's all.'

'You deliberately misled us.'

He shrugged. 'As you say.'

'And why don't you want anyone to know where you are? Mr Templar—he's the bank manager—he told me your friends in Bridgetown are frantic to know your whereabouts.'

'I can believe it.' Dominic's tone was uninterested. Then he looked up at her again. 'He didn't tell them?'

'No.' Ruth moved her shoulders. 'But he'd like to.'

'I'll bet!' he grimaced. 'I'll handle my—friends, in my own time.'

'But if anything had happened to you!'

The words burst from Ruth's lips, and his lips twisted. 'Yes? If anything had happened to me— what? It wouldn't matter, either way.'

'It would to us.' exclaimed Ruth indignantly, then flushed when he fixed her with a steady gaze. 'Well—' she defended herself, 'I can imagine your father's reactions if we'd let you die.'

'Oh. I see. You'd do that, would you? Let me die. I mean?' he teased, his mouth humorous now. and she shifted uneasily.

'You know what I mean.' she declared. 'Mr Templar said—'

'Oh. it was Templar, was it?' Dominic relaxed back on his elbows, wincing as he jarred his arm. and then silently daring her to say anything about it. 'I thought that didn't sound like you or your father. Believe me. that's only my family's way of putting on the pressure.'

'Putting on the pressure?' Ruth echoed blankly. 'What do you mean?'

Dominic shook his head. 'Go and have your swim.' he directed, studying the horizon once again. 'We'll folk again when you come out.'

Ruth was reluctant, but the sea was enticing and she was sticky from the terrors of the night. With an inconsequent shrug, she bowed her head, and without another word left him to take ever quickening steps into the ocean.

Despite her awareness of her audience, it was impossible not to find enjoyment in the chill transiency of the water. It was like silk against her skin, soothing her anxiety, and cooling her blood. She swam smoothly, effortlessly, her arms moving through the water in a measured rhythm, her legs kicking lazily in the buoyant, surging current.

She spent about fifteen minutes swimming and diving, and floating on her back, her face turned up to the strengthening rays of the sun. then she swam back to the shore and walked up the beach, squeezing the sea-water out of the slick coil of her hair. She felt clean and exhilarated, and a little intoxicated too when she encountered Dominic's strange enigmatic gaze.

He looked a little better after his rest, his pallor not so pronounced, and his expression was disturbing as he handed her the towel.

'I've never seen a mermaid disporting herself before.' he commented, as she towelled the moisture from her arms, and she didn't know what to answer when he held her gaze with his.

'You—you look better.' she ventured, biting her lower lip. and his expression underwent a change.

'Can't you forget about my arm for once?' he demanded, impatience darkening his irises. "I offered you a compliment, not an excuse to discuss my health!'

Ruth concentrated on drying her legs, self-consciously aware of his appraisal. But Dominic turned his attention from her, picking up handfuls of sand and letting it drain away between his fingers, and the silence between them stretched ominously.

'I—I suppose we ought to be getting back.' she ventured at last, hoping for his compliance, and he looked up at her broodingly.

'Why?' he demanded, his lids heavy. 'What's the rush? Being shut up in that room all day doesn't appeal to me. believe it or not. particularly when you refuse to come and talk to me.'

Ruth bent her head. 'I—I have work to do—'

'All
day?'

'I have to help Celeste.'

'So why don't you help me?'

'Help you?' Ruth looked down at him uneasily. 'I don't understand—'

'No. you don't, do you?' he drawled, his expression softening slightly. 'Oh. hey. come here! Let me do that for you.' And pulling the towel out of her hands, he indicated that she should squat down in front of him.

'I can manage.' she began, unwilling for him to touch her. but the hardening line of his mouth persuaded her. and half apprehensively she subsided on to the sand between his legs.

She had been drying her hair, but now his hands took over, moving continuously over its thickness, massaging her scalp and bringing a tingling awareness of his strength and gentleness. His fingers eased her tension. they made her relax, and almost unthinkingly she yielded against him.

As soon as she felt the muscles of his legs against her back, she straightened away from him. With colour blooming in her cheeks, she would have hurriedly got to her feet then, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

'Don't get up.' he said, and his voice was curiously husky now. 'You're welcome to lean on me. Do it—it's very pleasant.'

Ruth swallowed. She supposed he was right. What harm could she do just resting against his chest? Her hair was only damp now. two skeins over her shoulders, and his skin was firm and reassuring against her shoulderblades.

Yet. in spite of her inexperience, she felt strangely guilty, sitting there, confined by the powerful curve of his thighs. Dominic seemed relaxed, but she sensed he wasn't, and the heat of his breathing was warm against her nape. She knew she ought to get up. in spite of what he said, but she was strangely reluctant to do so. It was an entirely new experience for her. and one that she could not deny excited her. though why this should be so was harder to understand.

'This is a beautiful place.' Dominic said suddenly, disturbing her anxious introspection. 'I can understand your father's attachment to it. And his reasons for keeping you here.'

Ruth bent her head, unknowingly exposing the tender curve of her nape to his gaze. 'We're happy.' she said, and her movements caused fine strands of black silk to brush his chest.

'Are you?' Dominic's response was abstracted. 'Maybe that's because you know of nothing better.'

Ruth half turned to look at him. 'And you do. of course. Know of somewhere better, I mean?'

His mouth was oddly twisted, i didn't say that,' he demurred, his tones harsh and uneven, and his eyes on her parted lips were almost a palpable intrusion.

It was a breath-constricting moment, and she could feel the air fighting to escape from her lungs. He was so close, closer than she had imagined, and her gaze lingered on the sun-bleached length of his lashes and the spasmodic jerking of a pulse in his temple. She knew the desire to touch him again, to stroke his lean cheek and run her palm along the beard-roughened skin of his jawline. She would have liked to slide her fingers through his hair and feel its heavy vitality between her fingers, but when his eyes lowered to the rounded swell of her breasts, thinly disguised by the damp swimsuit. she turned abruptly about so that he could no longer see them.

She was breathing quickly now. shallowly and unsteadily. endeavouring without too much success to assimilate what was happening between them. She didn't understand it. She didn't comprehend why his just looking at her should arouse such strong feelings. She only knew that when he looked at her she had wanted him to admire her body, and it was this as much as anything which aroused her sense of shame.

Struggling on to her knees, she reached for the towel that was lying beside him. and would have scrambled up if once again he hadn't prevented her.

'What's the matter?" he demanded, his eyes dark and searching now as they explored her distracted expression. 'Don't be alarmed. I'm not going to touch you. At least.' he amended dryly, acknowledging his present possession, 'not in the way you're afraid of.'

'I'm not afraid!' Ruth was stung by the underlying mockery in his words, and his brows arched interrogatively.

'No?'

'No.' she retorted, unaware that her breasts were rising and falling rapidly in her agitation. 'I just don't think you should look at—at me—at my body, as you were doing!'

His mouth compressed. 'Oh. I see.'

Ruth chin jutted. 'I'm not completely naive. I have seen the way men look at women,' she declared.

'Oh. I believe it.' Dominic's expression was sober, but she suspected the bland way he was agreeing with her.

'I know you think I'm silly—and childish—and amusing.' she blurted, 'but you have no right to—to make me feel a fool!'

'Did I do that?' He raised his eyes heavenward. 'I'm sorry—'

'Oh, you—'

The humour lurking in the depths of his eyes infuriated her. and without thinking, she wrenched herself away from him. completely overlooking the fact that it was his left hand that was holding her. Her sudden action jerked his arm. and she gazed down at him. horror-struck, as he rolled back on to the sand, groaning, and holding his injured arm to his chest.

'Dominic!'

She used his name without thinking, dropping down on to her knees beside him. touching him with fluttering, nervous hands. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be in a great deal of pain, and she stared all about her desperately, before returning her attention to his evident distress.

'Oh. Dominic, what can I do?' she implored, leaning over him helplessly, at a loss for a way to relieve his agony. 'Please, say something, anything! Do you want me to go for Joseph?'

He spoke then, but it was barely audible, just a muttering in his throat that brought her head down to him.

'I can't hear you.' she protested, cradling his face between her hands, and then gasped in disbelief when he suddenly moved, rolling over quickly and imprisoning her beneath him.

Looking up into his tormenting face, she was tempted to scratch his eyes out. but she was too relieved to feel anything but a sense of reprieve. He wasn't hurt, she hadn't injured him. and her limbs felt weak with the knowledge of his returning strength.

'So you were going to walk away from me. were you?' he taunted, supporting himself above her. 'You see how dangerous it can be to think you have

the upper hand.'

'I didn't think that.' she protested, avoiding his mocking gaze. 'But you were only teasing me. like you're doing now. And I didn't like it.'

'No, I gathered that.' he murmured, one hand stroking back her tumbled hair from her cheek. 'So what would you have me do with you? Take you seriously?'

Ruth's tongue appeared in unknowing provocation. Suddenly, there was less humour in the situation. and she was overwhelmingly aware of the denim-clad legs imprisoning hers against the sand, and the heavy weight of his body crushing her lower limbs. Yet she didn't want him to move. She found she liked the masculine angles of his body pressing down on hers, and she moved very slightly to accommodate his powerful frame.