Blue Mist of Morning, page 11
Once she had realized she had fallen in love with Ty, her feelings for him had intensified with breathtaking swiftness. Now, as she walked along the beach, she felt hopelessly trapped by the love she felt for him. Until the past few weeks, she had always led a structured life, but now she knew she no longer had sole control of her destiny. Self-discipline had been relatively easy when her main goal in life had been to see Sue through college. Now, though she still cared deeply about her sister's education, she realized her life was not so one-dimensional. She had needs of her own, and falling in love had awakened those needs. They nagged at her relentlessly, sweeping her up in a turmoil of emotions that she was powerless to control. Simply being near Ty was both a pleasure and an agony. There was a happiness in loving him, but it was bittersweet. She needed his tenderness and his passion and, most importantly, his love, but that didn't mean he would ever be able to return her feeling. Life was just not so simple.
Stopping for a moment in the water that frothed about her slender ankles, she lifted her face to the sun and allowed her troubled gaze to drift with the milk white clouds that sailed across a brilliant blue sky. Then she walked on again, breathing another sigh. Why had she fallen in love with him? She hadn't wanted to, knowing he was a man totally beyond her reach. Yet, little by little, day by day, liking and respect had deepened to become an irrevocable love. Knowing herself as the serious person she was, Anne was afraid that she would never stop loving him, although he couldn't love her. She didn't want to live with unrequited passion all the rest of her life.
If only she had exercised more self-discipline in her relationship with him, she chided herself mentally. Then suddenly, she took a sharp, startled breath as two large hands descended onto her shoulders. Jerking her head around, she found Ty behind her, smiling one of those lazy, slow smiles as her wide eyes met the clear blue of his. All thoughts of self-discipline were swamped by her overwhelming love for him and an answering smile trembled on her softly shaped lips.
In silence his nearly mesmerizing gaze darkened and held hers for several spellbinding seconds, but at last he spoke, his deep voice melodious. "I didn't expect to find you up and out so early, but maybe I should have. After all, you once found an early morning snow equally irresistible." As he glanced down at his rolled up khaki trouser legs and his bare feet, his smile deepened. "You know, you have this amazing ability to make me revert to childhood. First, you tempt me into riding downhill on a sled, and now I find myself wading in the ocean."
With a knowing grin, Anne retorted lightly, "I suspect I didn't have to do much tempting. If you didn't want to go sledding or wading in the first place, I'm sure I couldn't persuade you."
"I suspect you're right," he admitted, draping one arm across her shoulders to turn her toward the sea. "Well, what do you think of it? Does it make you want to go in for a swim?"
"It's magnificent," she murmured. "You were right—I've never seen water so blue. And yes, it does make me want to go for a swim, but I suppose you're going to be a slave driver and make me work before I get to have any fun."
Smiling down at her, he drew her closer and tugged gently at the wisp of hair grazing her temple. "Oh, I intend for you to have fun while we're here, but you're right—I'm a firm believer in business before pleasure, in most instances anyway. Once we've finished going over Bob's financial affairs with him, we'll be free to enjoy ourselves to the fullest. Who knows, maybe you'll relax enough to shed all those inhibitions of yours."
"I wasn't aware that you think I'm inhibited."
"Cautious then, or maybe a little shy." All of a sudden, his tone had become too serious, and Anne shook her head. "Me, shy? Never," she insisted and to prove her point, she playfully tickled his lean sides. Since he was caught off guard by her action, he released her and she quickly escaped him, running out of the surf and across the sand toward the line of palm trees.
She didn't get far before he caught her, and they both were laughing as he pulled her around into his arms. With that first electric touch of her softly curved body against the harder, stronger length of his, his laughter became an urgent whispering of her name. Gripping her waist in lean demanding hands, he pressed her back against the trunk of a palm tree. As her lips parted, his descended to take their sweetness with dizzyingly persuasive power.
Loving desire to be close to him overshadowed all Anne's doubts, and she responded with an ardor that might have appalled her in its intensity had she been thinking clearly. Instead, she could only delight in the gentle insistence conveyed by the hard hands that roamed over her and found the enticing feminine arch between her slender waist and the outward curving of her hips. Her fingers tangled in his thick dark hair, and she pressed closer to him. In that tantalizing moment in time, she would have eagerly given herself completely to him and, at last, it was he who reluctantly drew away.
His breathing was uneven as he leaned his forehead against hers. "Fantastic as this is, it isn't the right time or place," he whispered huskily, his hard mouth gentling with a smile. "Besides, we're not getting any work done this way, and I don't want to have to think about business tonight or tomorrow or tomorrow night. I'll only want to think about us. So why don't we go get some breakfast right now. Are you hungry?"
"Famished," Anne lied, unwilling to let him know that food was the last thing on her mind.
Most of Anne's afternoon was free. About two o'clock, while Ty finished discussing a few final details with Bob Peterson, she went back to the bungalow to get into her black maillot. After slipping on a terry-cloth beach jacket over it, she stuffed a towel into a straw beach bag, put on her sunglasses, and walked down to the secluded cove she had visited that morning.
Jenny, Mike, and Rob Peterson were already there, and judging by the amount of laughter that accompanied their splashing in the surf, they were having a good time. As Anne spread her towel on the sand, she smiled to herself. Jenny seemed happy here on St. Croix. Rob, nineteen, teased Jenny unmercifully, and she apparently loved every minute of it.
Unable to wait any longer to test the crystal blue water, Anne removed her sunglasses, dropped them carelessly onto the towel, and ran lightly into the foaming surf. Plunging in up to her shoulders, she pushed off and swam to more placid water beyond the breaking waves. Brisk, even strokes took her smoothly through the water, and when her arms and legs began to tire, she turned over onto her back and floated upon the gently rolling surface.
She wasn't allowed to enjoy such peace for long, however. Within a few minutes she was commandeered by Rob Peterson to participate in a crazy game of water polo that apparently had no rules and, therefore, no semblance of order.
"Tackling is not allowed in this game," she laughingly chided Rob when he wrapped one arm around her waist and unceremoniously tossed her aside to prevent her from catching the ball Jenny threw her way. When she surfaced, spluttering, water streaming off her face, she glared at the young man with mock indignation. "That was a foul."
"It most certainly was not," he retorted, swiping his shock of sun-bleached blond hair back from his tanned forehead. "This is called 'free-for-all' water polo. I just invented it, and the only rule is anything goes."
And practically anything did. Finally, teammates Jenny and Anne began to complain loudly that they were being physically abused by the superior strength of the men's team. New arrangements were made, putting Anne and Rob against Jenny and Mike, but the men clowned around so much that there was never any sense of order in the game. At last, Anne was tackled by Mike and she called a halt. "I've had enough. Go tackle Jenny. She seems to enjoy it when you do."
"And I enjoy tackling her. She's a good-looking kid," he retorted with unabashed enthusiasm.
Pleased Mike was attracted to Jenny, Anne smiled as she trudged toward shore, wrapping her braid of hair around her hand to squeeze the excess water from it. Mike was the kind of man who would bolster Jenny's confidence without taking advantage of her. Looking up from the frothing surf, she caught her breath. Ty was standing by her towel, watching her approach with great interest.
Suddenly, she felt stark naked. The swimsuit she wore might have been considered quite modest by some standards, but she still felt very vulnerable in it. She could almost feel Ty's gaze burn her skin as it traveled over her. Her self-consciousness merely intensified as she forced herself to look at him. The white swim trunks he wore accentuated the bronze darkness of his skin, and there was no mistaking the lithe strength in his lean, yet muscular, body.
She sank down quickly onto the towel and smiled wanly when he kneeled beside her. But he didn't return the smile, and when she detected something akin to impatience glinting in his blue eyes, she swallowed with difficulty.
"Having fun?" he asked abruptly, his voice too low, his tone almost accusing.
Her eyes widened slightly as she nodded. "The water's terrific. And, as you can see, Jenny's having a fabulous time. I'm glad you were able to arrange this trip. It'll do her good to have two young men vying for her attention."
"Mike doesn't seem all that interested in Jenny, frankly," Ty replied. "From what I could see, you were the sole focus of his attention."
"Only because I had the ball," she answered flatly. "He wanted it."
"He seemed to be wanting a great deal more to me," Ty grated out.
Her luminous gray eyes searched his lean face as she wondered if he was actually feeling a bit jealous. It would have been exhilarating to believe that he was, but she was not that self-confident. Perhaps he was only perturbed because he wanted Jenny to benefit from all Mike's attention. With a little shrug, she patted her face dry with a small towel she had brought along. "You know how Mike is," she said softly. "Very playful. Look at him now, chasing Jenny."
Ty didn't answer but did appear to relax somewhat. Sitting down on the towel, he leaned back on his elbows, turning his gaze from the sea to Anne as she stretched out beside him.
Anne had closed her eyes, but they shot open again almost immediately as, without warning, Ty's fingers slipped around to the back of her neck to undo the cords that kept her swimsuit securely in place. Her breath caught deep in her throat when his hard knuckles grazed the rounded curves of her breasts, as he then tied the cords into a small bow at the top of the suit. There was something so provocatively intimate in the gesture that she felt the insane need to cover his hands with hers and press them down against her, but, of course, that was a need she managed to suppress. She felt impaled by his piercing blue eyes and was unable to prevent an entrancing pink color from tinting her cheeks.
Ty smiled slightly. "You have very lovely shoulders, Miss Fairchild," he teased, then lay down beside her without another word.
Some time later Anne drifted off to sleep beneath the hot sun and was awakened by a tickling sensation along her high cheekbones and the bridge of her small nose. Her eyelids slowly opened.
Propped up on one elbow, Ty was gently running one finger over her skin. "You're getting a nice sprinkling of freckles."
Wrinkling her nose, she sat up and rummaged through her beach bag for a bottle of sunscreen lotion. Finding that her skin was becoming faintly pink, she smoothed the lotion over her arms and legs, and especially over her nose and cheeks, to avoid adding more freckles to her latest collection. Then, as she began to rub the sunscreen across her bared shoulders, Ty took the bottle from her hand.
"Turn over," he commanded softly. "I'll do your back."
As she obeyed and lay on her stomach, resting her chin on her folded arms, the elasticized top of her swimsuit began to creep slowly down. It went lower and lower, and she held her breath, hoping it would stop so she wouldn't have to awkwardly pull it back up again. At last the slow nerve-wracking slide ceased and left her safely covered. She was able to breathe again, though not very deeply as Ty's hands began to stroke her back. His touch was not impersonal. Even after the lotion had been smoothed into her satin-textured skin, his hands lingered, his strong, lean fingers trailing along her spine and exploring the delicately structured contours of her back. A delightful weakness invaded her limbs, but as his fingertips brushed over the firmly rounded sides of her breasts, exposed by the traitorous swimsuit, she trembled slightly and Ty immediately removed his hands.
"I think we'd better go for a swim," he suggested gruffly. And when Anne turned over, hastily hitched up the top of her suit, then tied the cords at the back of her neck again, his burning gaze never left her for an instant.
The presence of Jenny, Mike and Rob helped make the remainder of the afternoon tension-free, at least for Anne. But they abandoned her immediately after dinner that evening. When Rob took Mike and Jenny out to meet some of his friends, Anne and Ty were left alone with the elder Petersons, who were both very likable, unpretentious people. Anne enjoyed talking to them, and the time passed so quickly that she was quite surprised when Ty glanced at his wristwatch and informed her it was past eleven.
"And remember, I promised you that moonlight swim," he added nonchalantly, then smiled at their hosts. "Anne's never been swimming at night in the Caribbean, so I thought her first time should be tonight."
First time for what! Anne thought frantically. She had never agreed to any moonlight swim! As she stood up beside him, she smiled rather nervously at the Petersons. "I… enjoyed dinner. Thank you for asking me to join you."
After adding his thanks, Ty lost no time guiding Anne out of the main house, but he said nothing as they walked through the moonlight to the bungalow. Once inside, he led her down the hall to the bedrooms, and if he noticed she was dragging her heels a bit, he didn't mention it.
"Go get changed," he said, giving her no chance to argue. "I'll meet you on the veranda."
She went, and as she slipped into the already-dry swimsuit, she berated herself for her over-active imagination. Ty hadn't been about to drag her caveman-style into his bedroom and attack her. Even if he was unfathomable sometimes, she at least knew him better than that. Caveman tactics just weren't his style.
Even so, she wrapped the terry-cloth beach jacket snugly around her and tugged the belt tightly, as she pushed open the front screen door and stepped out onto the veranda. Ty moved out of the shadows, saying nothing as he took her hand and led her down the path to the stairs in the reef. Once on the sand, Anne removed her sandals. The fine grains went between her toes as they walked down the beach beyond the line of palm trees.
Under the light of a huge full moon, the cove seemed more isolated than it had during the day. Anne's heartbeat accelerated as Ty became a broad silhouette standing beneath a palm tree, watching while she spread the beach towel. Playing for time, she knelt down to meticulously smooth it, then decided she didn't like it where it was at all. She walked farther down the beach and stopped about ten feet away from the far bordering reef, where she spread the towel again. Then she fidgeted with the plait of her hair until Ty, who had followed, apparently lost patience with her delaying tactics and took control of the situation.
His bronzed skin gleamed in the moonlight as he diminished the distance between them with one long stride. He moved close in front of her and swiftly undid the tie around her waist. Pushing the soft terry fabric from her shoulders and down her arms, he removed the jacket entirely and dropped it onto the towel at their feet. His fingers went up to blaze a trail of fire along her slender neck to the shadowed hollow at the base of her throat and downward to brush slowly across the beginning swell of her breasts, visible above the top of her swimsuit.
"Anne," he murmured, his hands spanning her waist.
His serious, uneven tone indicated he had something much more intimate than swimming in mind, and she intuitively employed playfulness as a line of defense. Laughing softly, she pulled away from him and ran to the water's edge, where the foaming surf sprayed phosphorescent droplets onto the sand. Without looking back, she waded into the sea up to her thighs, cooling her overheated skin in the silky water. Hazarding a glance back over her shoulder, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Ty following her into the surf. When she had taken a few more steps, the waves were splashing over her waist. She looked back once more, but Ty had stopped in water that didn't quite reach his knees. Standing very still, he was staring straight ahead, then he turned quickly toward her.
"Anne, come here," he commanded quite sternly, causing the first stirring of apprehension in her.
She hesitated. "But…"
"Just come," he repeated tersely, altering her apprehension to fear. When she still didn't move, he reached out one hand to her and said with deliberate calm, "I read recently that sharks often attack in about three feet of water."
With the word shark, she panicked. When he moved toward her, she lunged at him, clutching the hand he held out and nearly catapulting herself against him as he swiftly drew her from the deeper water. Sweeping her up in his strong arms, he carried her back onto the beach, and she clung to his shoulders and buried her face in his neck as a delayed reaction began to make her shake violently.
"You saw something out there!" she squeaked. "Didn't you? Didn't you see something?"
"Not a thing," he replied laconically. "But this little trick always works."
For a moment she was too stunned to speak, but the soft laughter rumbling in his chest confirmed his words. "Ty!" she protested, pushing at his shoulders to free herself, but to no avail. "What a terrible thing to do! You nearly scared me to death! Oh, that wasn't fair. It really wasn't. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Ah, but I'm not," he whispered close to her ear. "If you play games, then I play, too, and that little deception got you right where I want you."
Before she could even begin to protest his statement, he had dropped to his knees on the towel and was tenderly putting her down. His dark eyes swept over the ivory skin that shimmered with a satin-like sheen in the moonglow. Then he was close beside her, one powerful hair-roughened leg pinning both hers beneath its weight. Hearing her startled intake of breath, he cupped her face in both his hands and lowered his dark head.
