James, Stephanie (2 page)

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He was heavy, lying across her legs, Tabitha thought fleetingly. Solid and hard and heavy but without an

ounce of fat. Rather like a large, sleekly muscled animal. The dark, coffee brown hair was thick and cut

conservatively in an apparent effort to tame a slight wave. The dark pelt was tousled now, a result of the

violent activity the man had recently undergone, but the casual disarray of it did not make him look any

younger. From a distance Tabitha had idly decided that he was probably almost forty and she saw

nothing in him now to change that opinion.

In fact, Tabitha realized, up close the lines etched into his face indicated that he might even have passed

his fortieth birthday. There was a fixed, implacable look about the aggressive nose and forceful jaw. The

broadly carved features were neither sensitive nor aquiline. She could not read either intrinsic compassion

or cruelty in the profile; simply a hard, unyielding strength. What had happened to his left leg to leave him

with such a marked limp? she wondered. Perhaps an automobile accident.

What on earth had occurred in that miserable little alley? Had he been attacked by a group of young

toughs who had been lying in wait for an unsuspecting tourist? With his limp and the evidence of me cane,

this particular man might have seemed an especially easy target.

Curiously Tabitha reached into his pocket and found a worn leather wallet. Flipping it open, she

discovered a Texas driver’s license issued to one Devlin Colter. Whoever had assaulted him hadn’t

gotten the wallet, fortunately.

Devlin Colter. At least now he had a name. As the taxi came to a sliding halt in front of the docks,

Tabitha hastily slid me wallet back into the pocket of Colter’s khaki slacks. He stirred as she did so,

reacting apparently to the cessation of motion rather than to the fact that she had been going through his

pockets. Tabitha suddenly felt a little guilty.

“We’re at the ship,” she murmured soothingly. Her fingers gently stroked his arm. “I’ll ask them to bring

out a stretcher.”

“Please don’t,” he muttered thickly. “This is going to be embarrassing enough as it is. Just help me out of

the cab, will you?”

“Of course, but I really think…”

Devlin Colter didn’t appear to be paying much attention to what she thought. His whole concentration

was on getting to a sitting position. She heard him swear feelingly as he managed me feat. Then the cab

driver was jumping out to assist his double-fare passengers.

Two of the cruise ship’s crew lounging near the gangway saw Tabitha and her fellow passenger and

hurried forward to assist.

“Have the doc paged, Emerson,” one of the men said briskly as he took the weight of Devlin Colter.

“And notify the captain. Looks like one of our passengers met up with an accident on shore.” His eyes

narrowed as he turned to glance at Tabitha. “Car accident?”

“No, at least I don’t think so. I found him like this in an alley near the main market area. I think he’s

been beaten up by some punks.”

“Yeah, that’s what it looks like. We’ve never had any trouble on St. Regis before,” the crewman said

unhappily as he and another man guided the stumbling Colter toward the gangway. “Here, you take his

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cane. It’s in the way.”

“No,” Colter growled through clenched teeth as he fought for consciousness. “I’ll keep it.”

Tabitha’s heart twisted as she witnessed his desperate need to hang on to the ebony stick. In a moment

of crisis some people cling irrationally to seemingly insignificant objects. The cane had probably come to

be an extension of himself over the years, and Colter undoubtedly felt awkward and unsteady without it.

“I’ll take good care of it,” she promised gently, taking hold of the cane. “And right now it really is in the

way.” For an instant she didn’t think he was going to surrender it. As he stood braced by the two

members of the ship’s crew, Devlin Colter opened his silver eyes wide enough to regard Tabitha through

two narrow slits. He seemed to realize he was in no shape to fight this small battle.

“Take it,” he muttered. “But stay with me. Give me your word that you’ll stay with me for a while.”

Tabitha was oddly touched at the stark pleading in his low, rough voice. She answered without thinking.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”

The silver eyes pinned her for a timeless, assessing moment. And then, apparently satisfied at what he

had seen, Colter gritted, “Yes, you will, won’t you?” As if the decision to trust her with his cane sapped

the remainder of what little energy he had left, Colter slipped into a faint.

No, Tabitha reminded herself as she followed the two crewmen who were carrying him, Colter hadn’t

fainted, he’d passed out. She clung very tightly to the ebony cane.

Two hours later she was still obediently clutching the cane as she sat beside the white-sheeted bed in the

small but well-equipped sick bay. Devlin Colter had wandered in and out of consciousness while the

ship’s doctor tended to his wounds, but each time he had stirred restlessly and opened his silvery eyes,

he’d caught sight of Tabitha nearby and the image had appeared to reassure him. Now he was sleeping,

a reasonably normal sort of sleep thanks to a sedative. His body bore several strips of tape and

bandages and there were dark bruises under his eyes. The ribs, fortunately, had only been battered, not

broken, although the doctor said they would cause considerable discomfort for several days. Still, all

things considered, Devlin Colter was in fair shape for a man who had undergone a severe beating in a

back alley.

What was it about the sight of her which had calmed him during his restless moments? Tabitha wondered

fleetingly as she sat holding the cane. He had seemed lucid when he was awake so she didn’t think he

was hallucinating. He didn’t seem to be mistaking her for someone else.

Not that she was the kind of person who generally got mistaken for someone else, Tabitha reminded

herself dryly. If anything, people were more inclined to overlook her altogether. Quiet people often got

overlooked. Sometimes that suited them perfectly. Sometimes it was frustrating.

A quiet woman who was hauntingly beautiful probably wouldn’t have known what it was like to spend

most of her life as an observer of others. She would probably have been considered tragic and vulnerable

and in need of a man’s protection. Some male would have long since swept her off her feet.

But Tabitha Graham had not reached the age of twenty-nine years without learning that she was not the

hauntingly beautiful, tragically quiet type. Instead she felt rather average when it came to looks. Her

toast-colored hair was cropped in a blunt cut which swung gently along the line of her jaw, neither short

and sassy nor long and sultry in style.

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The light brown hair framed a set of features that were softly molded, almost wholesome. Wholesome

was a word Tabitha didn’t care for at all, even if it did suit her gentle mouth and slightly tilted nose.

It was the sherry-colored eyes which somewhat mitigated the wholesome effect. They were faintly

slanted at the outer corners, and there was a flare of intelligence and humor in them which could not be

completely dimmed.

As far as the rest of her was concerned, Tabitha had to admit that the term wholesome probably was as

accurate as any. Unfortunately. There was a soft roundness to her breasts and hips which no amount of

dieting ever seemed to diminish. All dieting managed to achieve, Tabitha had long since realized, was a

stalemate in the battle against outright plumpness. The endless food available on board a luxury cruise

liner was not contributing to the war effort. Or if it was, it was definitely on the wrong side. But that was

all right, she had assured herself three days ago. This was supposed to be a vacation and she was entitled

to enjoy it.

With that thought in mind, she had purchased loose-fitting cottons for the Caribbean cruise, clothing that

would not remind her of how much she was enjoying the food. Her white, drawstring pants which were

now stained with blood and dirt were accompanied by a square-necked, handkerchief-hem, white top.

The only jewelry Tabitha had on was a silver pendant designed in the shape of a griffin. The small

sculpture with its lion’s body and eagle’s head was a fierce little creature drawn from the pages of a

medieval bestiary. As she absently fingered the beast, Tabitha abruptly remembered the tiny, dragon

carving she had left lying at the entrance to the old alley.

It wasn’t the only souvenir she had left on the cobblestones in her haste to rescue Devlin Colter, but it

was the one she would miss the most. It had been an especially charming beast with a handsome head

and delicately detailed claws. Ah, well, Colter was an even more interesting beast, she thought

humorously. A small, private smile curved her mouth just as his silver eyes flickered open.

“Don’t worry, I’ve still got it,” she assured him, holding up the cane.

His gaze went briefly from her face to the cane and back again. “Thanks,” he said seriously. “Thanks for

everything. I owe you.”

Tabitha shook her head, smiling. “Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone would have done the same. I just

happened to be the first tourist passing that alley after you got clobbered in it. Which reminds me. The

captain would like to talk to you when you’re feeling up to a chat. I guess he’s got a few questions about

what happened. The steamship company doesn’t like having its passengers beaten up while visiting

places like St. Regis. Whoever it was didn’t get your wallet, by the way.”

Devlin continued to stare at her for another moment. The weakness and sedative-induced drowsiness in

him was obvious. “I suppose I should be grateful for small favors,” he managed dryly. “Who are you,

anyway?”

“Tabitha Graham. From Washington.”

“D.C.?”

She grimaced. “State of. Every traveling citizen of the state of Washington has to explain that for some

reason! People always assume the D.C.”

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He nodded once and then winced as the motion apparently sent a wave of discomfort through his head.

“You look more like the state of than D.C.” The silver eyes closed for a moment as he took a couple of

careful breaths.

“How can you tell?” Tabitha asked curiously.

He didn’t open his eyes. “I used to live there. D.C. types are a little harder, a little more…” His voice

trailed off as he searched for a word.

“Sophisticated?” Tabitha supplied dryly.

“I guess. You look sort of soft.” His eyes were still closed.

“Wholesome? Healthy? Sweet?” she added helpfully.

“Yeah. Maybe.” He was clearly tiring; losing interest in the analysis. That didn’t surprise Tabitha. She

was accustomed to men losing interest. Just as she thought he was drifting back into sleep, however, the

silver gray eyes slitted open once more. “What do you do up in the state of Washington, Tabitha

Graham?”

“I run a small bookshop in a little town on Puget Sound. It’s a wholesome, healthy, sweet sort of

occupation,” she confided cheerfully. “What about you?”

There was a small pause. She didn’t know whether he was simply assimilating her words or whether he

had actually fallen asleep. Then Colter said quietly, “I have an equally wholesome, sweet and, until now,

healthy occupation. I run a travel agency.”

“Uh oh. Let me guess. You’re going to take St. Regis off your list of recommended tourist stops as soon

as you get home, right?”

“The temptation is strong.”

“What happened in that horrible little alley, Devlin?” she inquired softly.

“Call me Dev.” He paused again, gathering his strength. “I’m afraid it was exactly what it looks like. I

got clobbered by a couple of young toughs who were anxious to supplement their annual income.”

“Well, they didn’t get your money!” Tabitha exclaimed in satisfaction.

“That is, of course, a great comfort,” he muttered. “Frankly, I’d rather they had asked politely for the

traveler’s checks I was carrying instead of trying to take them off me the hard way. You’d better tell the

captain I’m awake.”

Tabitha got to her feet and stepped closer to the bed, frowning down at him intently. “Are you sure

you’re ready to talk to him?”

“I’m sure.” He slanted a glance up at her serious expression. “Hang on to my cane for me, will you? I

don’t seem to be in any condition to hang on to it myself.”

She smiled reassuringly. “I’ll keep track of it for you. Do you want anything else before I leave?”

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“A small bottle of whiskey would be much appreciated.”

“Oh no, I don’t think so. Not on top of all those pain-killers you’ve got in you,” Tabitha said quickly.

“The pain-killers leave something to be desired. Please?” He tried a tentative, ingratiating smile that

amused Tabitha.

“No. I’m sure the doctor would never approve. Now you get some rest while I go tell the nurse you’re