James, Stephanie (13 page)

that life seldom offered such ideal relationships.

What if Dev didn’t feel the same way about her?

What if he grew bored as her husband had grown bored?

What if he was only interested in a short-term affair?

No! He wasn’t the kind of man who would have allowed the situation to develop as far as it had if he

didn’t feel as involved and committed as she did. Dev Colter was too much like herself to do that.

Whatever else happened, she would always be certain that his feelings for her during the night had been

genuine and deep. Determinedly she pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed, heading for the

bath.

Of course she
had
been guilty of rushing things last night, she chided herself in the shower. There was no

way she could deny the fact that she had set out to seduce the poor man and had succeeded.

The thought of herself as a seductress gave her a certain gleeful excitement, but it also brought with it

uncertainty. What if she had pushed Dev a little too quickly? What if she’d hurried him into a physical

commitment before he was quite ready? Perhaps she shouldn’t have taken the initiative. Would he be

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resentful of her efforts this morning in the clear light of day? She was frowning over that notion when the

shower curtain was pushed aside.

“Good morning,” Dev said gently, silver eyes raking her worried expression. He smiled. “I had the

feeling you might be in here berating yourself for being such a charming Siren last night.” His eyes were

warm, roving over her wet, nude body with remembered pleasure. “Having second thoughts?”

“A…a few,” she admitted, vividly aware of his nakedness as well as her own. Under the force of the hot

water she could feel her skin turn pink from the tips of her breasts to her earlobes. She buried her face

industriously in a washcloth. “I mean, only if you are,” she mumbled into the cloth. “I shouldn’t have

rushed you, Dev. Perhaps you weren’t ready for that.”

“If I seemed less than ready last night, I sincerely apologize,” he drawled meaningfully.

Tabitha went redder than ever. “You know I wasn’t referring to your…your…”

“Sexual prowess?” he interposed politely.

Was he teasing her? Or did he think she might have found him disappointing last night? That possibility

made her lower the washcloth. She swung anxious eyes to his. “Oh, Dev. You were perfect last night,”

she breathed.

He stepped into the shower and circled her waist with large hands. “So were you,” he told her simply.

Bending his head, he kissed her forehead. “Stop worrying. You’ll never get anywhere as a seductress if

you get into the habit of having second thoughts the next morning!”

Her mouth curved tremulously. “Seductresses shouldn’t have consciences?”

“Nope. But it’s obvious you do, don’t you?”

“I rushed you last night.”

“I enjoyed being rushed.”

“You’re quite sure?”

“I’m positive,” he murmured, nibbling appreciatively at her neck.

She relaxed and the smile on her lips curved a bit wider, lighting her sherry-colored eyes. “Well, if

you’re not going to gnash your teeth in dismay and ask how I could have been so callous as to get you

drunk and then take advantage of you…”

“I’m not.”

“Then I suppose I shall just have to ignore my qualms, hmm?”

“As long as you don’t ignore me,” he agreed. Dev caught her hand and spread her fingers across his

chest.

“I’d never do that,” she assured him earnestly.

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“I think I’m going to hold you to that promise.” He found her wet mouth with his own as Tabitha eagerly

leaned into his strength.

By the time they had finished breakfast the ship had dropped anchor in the harbor of yet another of the

out-of-the-way islands on its itinerary. Once again Tabitha had done her research.

“What’s this one got to offer?” Dev asked, peering doubtfully toward shore as the tender boat carried

them toward the dock.

“You ought to know, you’re supposed to be checking it out for your clients, remember?” she chuckled.

“Somehow all these islands are beginning to seem alike.”

“A fine attitude for a tourist agent!” She examined the brochure in her lap, the sea breeze ruffling her hair

as she bent over the colorful paper. “It says not to miss the gardens of the secluded old hotel on the hill to

the east of the town. Apparently they were designed by a famous English landscape artist sometime

during the last century for a plantation owner. The plantation went under and has since become a hotel

patronized only by the elite.”

“And now us. There goes the neighborhood,” Dev sighed. “I’ve heard of the place, though. Three

hundred dollars a day for a room. Haven’t been able to talk many clients into trying it lately.”

“Well, the gardens are said to be spectacular. There’s even a maze! That should be fun.”

“Thinking of abandoning your lover somewhere in it and leaving him to wander helplessly forever?”

Tabitha jerked her head up in astonishment, struck by the hint of something other than teasing buried in

his voice. Was he genuinely worried that she wasn’t feeling as committed this morning as he was? He

was so very vulnerable, she thought with love. “Never,” she vowed a bit gruffly. She could hardly say

more. They were already docking.

Dev nodded, apparently satisfied, and took her hand to help her off the boat. Somehow, even with the

necessity of wielding the cane, he accomplished the task with a kind of formal grace that made Tabitha

feel cherished. His strength more than compensated for his limp, she realized. This morning, dressed in

familiar khaki slacks and a shirt with the cuffs rolled up on his forearms, he seemed very vital and

overwhelmingly masculine to her. Every time she looked at him she remembered what making love to him

had been like and the recollections, she feared, showed in her eyes.

The day, which had begun so brightly, began to take a curious turn for the worse shortly after she and

Dev arrived by cab at the elegant former plantation home.

It was nothing she could put her finger on at first, merely a sense that Dev’s mood had begun to undergo

a subtle change. She noticed it first as they sat eating lunch in the dining room which looked out onto the

beautiful formal gardens.

“Something wrong with the pear chutney?” she asked, watching as he toyed with the food on his plate.

He glanced up quickly and smiled. “No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “You’re not exactly wolfing down your food with your usual enthusiasm. Are your ribs

hurting again?”

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Was he being that obvious? Dev wondered as he denied the query. Or was it just that Tabby was so

aware of him now that she was able to pick up on his moods very quickly? He would have to watch it or

he’d ruin the whole day if he wasn’t careful.

Still, there was no ignoring that uneasy sensation he’d experienced as soon as they had stepped out of

the cab. Tabitha’s enthusiasm had carried both of them up the grand steps and into the stately, open air

lobby of the hotel before he’d had a chance to identify the prickly feeling.

But as soon as they’d sat down to lunch, Dev had realized the restless sensation wasn’t going to

disappear. It was intensifying. Two years was a long time to be out of the business, he thought, but some

of the old instincts lingered apparently. The last time he’d experienced this disturbing feeling had been

when he’d gone into that alley on St. Regis. Twice in one week didn’t seem fair, not when he’d been free

of the annoying habit for two years. Damn it to hell. Why had he agreed to get involved with Delaney

again?

“Are you going to try the lemon syllabub?” Tabitha asked cheerfully, examining the dessert menu.

“That sounds good,” he agreed promptly, not wanting to sound hesitant. She was already curious

enough about his attitude. Deliberately he made himself eat the last of his curried lamb and rice, trying to

appear enthusiastic. The excellent food was practically tasteless. He simply couldn’t concentrate on it or

enjoy it. What the hell was wrong?

There was nothing that could be wrong. Not here on this pleasant, sleepy little island in the Caribbean.

Everything that had been wrong had already taken place on St. Regis. He should be clear of that by now.

But what if he wasn’t? What if he’d unwittingly dragged Tabby into something connected with that

mess? His fingers tightened around the wineglass before he carefully set it back down on the table. It was

stupid to try to bury the prickly restlessness under a dose of alcohol. If there was trouble near, the last

thing he needed was to be even a little under the influence when it hit.

The first priority was Tabby. In his thoughts that one conclusion leaped to the forefront immediately.

Nothing else mattered as much as protecting her. She wasn’t a target of course, but being with him might

make her one. Dev swore again, vastly annoyed with himself.

“Dev? Are you sure your ribs aren’t hurting?”

He smiled a little, eyes softening as he absorbed the worried expression on her gentle face. It was rather

pleasant having her worry about him. He was getting more than a little accustomed to the luxury. And

maybe she was offering him the easiest excuse for cutting the day short. If she thought he was in pain,

she’d rush him back to the ship, and that was beginning to look like the only way of erasing this uneasy

chill down his spine.

“Well, to tell you the truth…” he began ruefully.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, tossing down her napkin. “And you were going to play the macho role and

pretend nothing was hurting, weren’t you? Idiot! It’s all my fault, too.”

“Your fault?”

The red stain on her cheeks was delightful, he decided in amusement. “Because of last night,” she

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mumbled, turning to search for the waiter.

“You’re determined to go on some kind of guilt trip over last night, aren’t you?” he teased her softly.

“You woke up this morning berating yourself for seducing me, and now you’re convinced you forced me

to overexert myself. Stop worrying, honey. The ribs are just a little sore because I’m still recovering.

That’s all. Honest.”

She was already madly signaling to the waiter, though, and it seemed simplest just to sit back and let her

take charge of rescuing him again. She was so good at it, Dev decided in pleased satisfaction. Look at

the way she ordered the waiter about. She was even abandoning her syllabub. Dev stifled a grin at what

that sacrifice might signify. She eyed him critically as the waiter went off to prepare the check.

“I’m going to run to the rest room while he’s getting the bill. I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can head

for the ship. I think you should be lying down,” she added with a crisp nod.

“I’m sorry to ruin the day like this,” Dev said in his most humble tones. It wasn’t hard to fake the regret.

He genuinely did regret spoiling her tour of the island. But that nagging unease wasn’t getting any milder,

and he’d learned long ago not to disregard it. Probably a false alarm this time, but with Tabby around he

didn’t intend to take chances.

“You’re not ruining the day!” she assured him at once, getting to her feet. “Now you just sit right here.

I’ll be back in a minute.”

He watched her go, thoroughly enjoying the way her body moved beneath the light material of the

red-and-white-striped tunic she was wearing. The garment was unbelted, naturally. All her clothes

seemed light and airy and unconfining. But somehow the very undefined line made her all the more

provocative to his eyes. And now that he knew exactly how beautifully those breasts and that sweet rear

curved, his imagination was quite capable of filling in details.

She disappeared down the long hall that led toward the rest room facilities, and Dev turned his attention

back to collecting the check. The waiter was hurrying across the room with it already, inspired, no doubt,

by Tabby’s firm injunction. Dev tossed down a credit card and then waited impatiently while the

transaction was completed. With any luck Tabby wouldn’t dawdle in the rest room. At least she wasn’t

the kind of female who felt compelled to repaint her face at every opportunity.

He signed the credit slip and then glanced at his watch. She’d been gone almost ten minutes now. How

long should he give her? She’d said she would be right back.

The gnawing unease grew. With a brusque movement Dev reached for his cane and got to his feet. The

tension was getting to him, he thought. He wanted Tabby out of this place. False alarm or not, he wasn’t

going to stick around to find out what was wrong. He’d go knock on the rest room door and tell her to

hurry. He could always plead that his ribs had taken a turn for the worse.

But it was the situation which was taking a turn for the worse. He knew it with growing certainty as he

made his way down the paneled hall to the door discreetly marked “ladies.” Even as he knocked, he was

already afraid of not getting a response.