Hours to Cherish (26 page)

But she had no intention of going in to Clay, not tonight. She had to think, to feel the breeze of the sea, to seek her answers within the night ocean air. To pray that the terrible numbness would go away.

Cat didn’t sleep at all. She stared out at the endless dark ocean until dawn broke to create colors of gold and blue and magenta from the black of night.

Funny, but she could easily, so easily, close her eyes to her own past. Jules had proved himself to be a corrupt fortune-seeker, ruthless in his methods. His face was already hazy in her memory. She had never really loved him, she had never allowed herself to do so.

Nothing disparaging could be said about Ariel. And the Gruutens were not only Clay’s employees, but his very good friends. They could not disappear from their lives as Jules had.

Ariel wanted Cat to have her husband. In the gentlest of terms, she had always given and did now give Clay to Cat.

Because Clay loved Cat.

And Cat loved Clay, so very much. He had once more become her life. But despite herself, despite logic, despite love, Cat just wasn’t sure she could reach out and take the gifts offered her.

He woke with a peculiar feeling of dread, aware that something was very wrong before he even opened his eyes. Reaching a hand across the white expanse of the sheet, he found that she was gone.

Clay hopped quickly from the bed, fumbling hastily into a pair of swim shorts.

He always awakened before Cat. During the day she was walking energy, vitality filled her every movement. It was only natural that she should be a very deep and sound sleeper, taking long to awaken, eyes usually heavy-lidded and sensually endearing with lazy reproach when she was brought from the depths of her sleepy world.

Clay moved like a windstorm from his cabin into the salon, barely glancing at Sam, Peter, and Ariel at the table before rushing through for the deck. A quick and astute gaze informed him immediately that Cat was nowhere to be seen.

He returned to the salon, his feeling of dread finalizing as he found his friends staring at him unhappily and somewhat guiltily.

“What happened?” Clay demanded tensely, hoping against sick hope that he didn’t already know.

Peter didn’t look directly at him. “You were dreaming again. Cat couldn’t snap you out of it. The best Ariel could do was get you back into a sound sleep.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Clay moaned. “Then Cat knows …”

“Everything,” Ariel supplied miserably. “But, Clay, I think she already knew … or guessed.”

“Where is she?”

It was Sam’s turn to look up. “She took a thermos of coffee and lit out in the dinghy at about six.”

Clay turned to leave the salon. Ariel called him back. “I think she’s okay, Clay, she wanted time alone, time to think about things.”

Clay smiled ruefully. “I just want to make sure she’s thinking about the right things.”

It wasn’t difficult to locate Cat. The dinghy wasn’t more than three hundred yards from the
Sea Witch II
. Without taking time to actually plan out all he wanted to say, Clay dove into the water, stroking furiously for the small dinghy. Ridiculous, but it seemed as if time was of the essence. Every second that passed seemed to increase the gulf forming between them. If he didn’t reach her, he would lose her.

She didn’t seem particularly surprised to see him as his head surfaced from the water, nor did she seem particularly pleased. Feeling absurdly like an awkward teen-ager, Clay smiled and murmured a hello as he trod water beside the dinghy, watching her eyes as she quietly sipped coffee from the thermos top and thoughtfully returned his stare, her gaze seeming to reflect the sea.

“May I come aboard?” he asked.

She shrugged, and waved a hand. Clay hefted himself over the edge, and faced her across the two planked seats.

“Are you willing to share that coffee?” he asked softly.

Cat poured more coffee into the cup and handed it to Clay. She finally spoke. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Clay ruefully shrugged his brows. “Fine, thanks.” He fell silent for a second and then caught her eyes. “I love you, Cat.”

Cat lowered her lashes and accepted the coffee back from him. “I believe you, Clay,” she murmured in return, raising her eyes once more to his. She smiled a little sadly. “I just wonder why … and how. You didn’t love me, you and I both know that, not when we were first married.”

Clay took a deep breath. “I don’t think I knew what love was at first, Cat. And I’m not sure that you did either. But I didn’t marry you because of your father, Cat.” He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice had grown very husky. “I only knew after that first night aboard the
Sea Witch
that I had to have you; I wanted you to be my wife. But I think I had a lot of preconceived notions about role-playing in a marriage. I thought it was okay for me to be the wanderer. I was the provider—I expected you to be the homemaker. Always there. Then I found out that I was insanely jealous. I did a lot of things to hurt you because I thought I was going to go crazy when I came home that time and found you flirting. I think that was when I discovered how very much I did love you—as soon as I cooled down from wanting to commit murder. The day I went down, Cat, I was thinking about you, about us, how I wanted to come home and tell you all those things, admit that I was insanely jealous, admit that I needed you. I was dreaming of how we could begin to mend all the patches. Oh, Cat,” he murmured with a deep sound that was between a groan and a sigh. “When I knew nothing else, I knew that you existed, somewhere.”

“But you had an affair with Ariel,” Cat interrupted softly.

“Yes,” Clay admitted, deciding that, make it or break it, it was time for complete honesty, time to lay foundations if there was to be anything for them now. “I had several affairs over the years, Cat, but I broke with Ariel when my memory returned, because she is a very kind and gentle lady. Neither of us would use the other when we both knew that my dreams were real. I had a wife, one that I loved very much.”

Cat didn’t reply, she was staring out at the water.

“Cat,” Clay continued very quietly, very gently, “that was long, long ago. Forgotten by all of us. Ariel and Peter are very happy.”

Cat nodded vaguely.

“Damn it!” Fear suddenly caused Clay to lose control. He had to clench his fists to his sides to keep from gripping her shoulders and demanding that she acknowledge him. “Talk to me, Cat, say something!”

She brought her eyes to his and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Clay, and I don’t really know what to say. I knew, not as fact, of course, but I did know before last night about Ariel. And I know it’s over. Peter is very comfortable and assured with his marriage. It just hurts, Clay. When you needed someone, it wasn’t me. It was Ariel. And I can’t help it. When I look at her, I imagine you holding her.”

Clay started to speak, but Cat lifted a hand, halting him. “Do you know, Clay, I sat there all those years, unable to let someone else touch me. It was amazing that Jules—for what he was worth—tolerated such an arrangement. And you made me admit that, Clay. You were so pleased to hear that I hadn’t been with anyone else—”

“Cat,” Clay managed to interrupt. “I love you, and yes, I’ve admitted I’m very jealous and possessive. It’s one of those so-called male traits that I’m afraid I can’t help. But no matter what has been, I love you. I would have wanted you still, I would have accepted anything, if I could just be sure that he didn’t hold your heart. I suppose my methods were rather poor, but I didn’t want you taken by DeVante, Cat, and once I was with you again, all my better reasoning went out the window. I had to have you back, no matter what it meant using, force or trickery. Or the
Santa Anita
.” He fell silent for a second. “Please don’t hate me for being glad I’ve been your only lover, Catherine. It’s like a very special and very sweet present.”

“I don’t hate you, Clay,” Cat murmured, glancing at him with wide eyes. “I love you,” she added huskily, “you know that. It was pathetically easy for us both to discover that fact. I just … oh, Clay, you don’t share anything with me. My lord, I have only a vague notion of what went on all those years, of all that you suffered. It takes you away, Clay. And it leaves little for the future. What do I do? How do I handle the nightmares that plague you? I don’t think I can handle your always needing another woman. …”

He was losing her, Clay thought; he could feel his hands growing clammy with his fear. He wanted to reach out and hold her, to force her into his arms, to remain there. But there was no force for that which was elusive, yours only when given freely. He had to let her come to him. She alone could give them a future, the love he needed, the home he craved.

“There are things we both need to learn, Cat. We’ve started by working together. We need to learn to build a home—together. To love and trust openly, to talk when things need to be said. I very rarely dream anymore, and a bucket of water over my face will wake me up—although I would just as soon you use such a drastic measure as a last resort. If being around Ariel bothers you, we needn’t see her or Peter again. I’m sure they’ll both understand if I ask them to find employment elsewhere.” He suddenly broke; his fingers were trembling as he clenched them together, a quiver took hold of his entire system. Suddenly he found himself reaching out, taking hold of her shoulders, burning her lips with a fevered and passionate kiss, demanding that she open to his hunger while also imprinting a sweet, giving poignancy that was the depth of his own need. His hands trailed over her shoulders, lovingly feathered her breasts, the sleek line of her shapely spine to the small of her back. He tore from her then, his tongue flaming a final moist trail of wistful need with erotic lightness over the sweet swell of her slightly bruised lips. He stared at her again, holding his grip firm on her shoulders as he felt the trembling assail him anew. “I love you, Cat. You’re my wife, and I need you. I want a home together, a family when we’re both ready. We have problems, but I don’t believe any are insurmountable. If we both love one another and need one another—and it is you I need, Cat, no other woman—we work at those problems. I think we can make it. And I’m more than willing to put in way above fifty percent of the effort because you’re everything I want out of life, you are my life, a part of me, the woman I love who shares a love for the sea and sky and sun we both crave. It’s all up to you now, Cat. If you think you can make it with a man who is admittedly a shade on the domineering side, definitely possessive, and an ex-con of sorts, who is nine out of ten times dripping with seawater, that man will be waiting to take you home. But remember this about him—he loves you. You’re in my blood, I never knew just how much.”

He released her suddenly, and grinned ruefully. “That’s where it stands, witch. You think about it.”

Cat watched in stunned surprise as Clay hefted his frame in a smooth leap back into the water. She brought a finger to her still-tingling lips, thinking of all he had said, assimilating his words and fevered touch.

Suddenly she realized the numbness was gone, his touch had reawakened her. She was warm and trembling, her flesh burned at every spot he had tenderly coursed.

It hit her with an aching tremor that she was being a tremendous fool. The world was hers, all the world that
she
desired, all the world she would ever need. And like an absolute idiot, she was allowing him, her world, to slip through her fingers.

Cat stood in the dinghy, heedless as it rocked beneath her jolted movement. “Clay!” she shouted, stopping his smooth crawl through the water. Forgetting the dinghy entirely, Cat dove after him, surfacing to a swim that sheared the water, not pausing until she reached him, threw her arms around him, and brought them both spiraling into the depths. She didn’t care. As long as he was with her, she wasn’t even sure she needed to breathe.

Near the crystal surface, her lips caught his, returning with a thirst all that he had given her. Clay gave a powerful kick, catapulting them both back above the sun-dazzled sheet of the water’s surface where they laughed as they trod water, both gulping in air.

“Oh, Clay,” Cat gasped, “I do want you, I do love you, I do need you! I’m ready to put in my own hundred percent, more, much more, than that. But Clay, you’re going to have to be prepared. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch you leave again. I wouldn’t be able to stand it! So you will always be with me, my love, just like the song, and you’re going to have to really talk to me, too, because I’m going to want to know all about those lost years … all the things that bother you, because if you dream again, the only woman you’ll have there is going to be me. …”

Once again they spiraled below the surface as Clay shut off Cat’s monologue with a deepening kiss that consumed her, his tongue plunging deeply, filling her with a warmth that radiated from her body within the crystal cool of the ocean. Once more they surfaced, gasping but still clinging together, only the efforts of seaworthy legs keeping them afloat.

“It’s a damned good thing we’re both strong swimmers,” Clay chuckled, his voice low and hoarse, “since you only seem to be able to find your voice in the sea!”

Cat grinned in return. “No more, Mr. Miller. I’m afraid you may find me very vocal in the future!”

Clay smiled and arched his brows. “Really?”

“What else can one do with a domineering, dripping-wet man?”

“Lots of things,” Clay replied, raised brows hiking up a shade further. “Want to find out? Except I do think we should leave the water. If I’m going to drown, I would prefer to do it metaphorically in ecstasy, rather than in water.”

Cat smiled wickedly and began to swim toward the
Sea Witch II
. A second boat, she thought with a deep and loving poignancy, and a second chance. She would never let either go.

As they reached the aft ladder, Cat turned to Clay. “By the way, you won’t be asking Peter or Ariel to find employment elsewhere.”

Clay frowned. “But Cat, if being near Ariel bothers you.”

“It will bother me, sometimes, Clay, but I think I’m mature enough to handle it. And I’m grateful to her, too, Clay. She must have done a great deal for you at a time when I was unable to. I think I love you enough to live with that … no, I’m positive I love you enough. In fact …” Her tone lost its serious note and the sun that dazzled the water lit a tantalizing enchantment into her eyes, “I love you so much, that at this moment, at this precise moment, I don’t give a damn who’s aboard our boat. I’m going to sail right through to
our
cabin and happily, very, very happily, try to show just how much I do love you.”