Stormy Vows/Tempest at Sea (44 page)

She wasn't willing to give him total victory. “We'll see,” she replied evasively. Then looking up quickly, her eyes troubled, she said, “There's one thing that I can't accept, Jake.” His face darkened swiftly, and she went on hurriedly, “It's the furs. I could never wear the skin of an animal that had been killed so that I could flaunt its beauty as some kind of status symbol. I just couldn't do it.”

Jake's frown faded slowly, to be replaced by resignation. “No, I suppose you couldn't,” he said wryly. “Knowing you, I should have realized that would be one of your
bäte noires
.”

Her face was serious. “I helped circulate a petition last year to try to get legislation passed against the killing of baby seals. Do you know how they kill baby seals?”

Jake placed a hand over her mouth. “No,” he said firmly, “and I don't want to know. At least not before dinner.” He removed his hand and tilted her head up to place a swift kiss on her mutinous mouth. “Suppose we send the furs back and use the money as a contribution to your seal fund.”

Jane's face lit up with the power of a solar explosion. “Oh, Jake, could we?” she breathed excitedly. “They do need the money so desperately.”

“If you promise to send the check in your name and not mine,” Jake said, making a face. “I have no desire to be put on the hit list of every wildlife-preservation society in the country.”

Jane jumped up and hugged him impulsively. “Jake, you're super. Absolutely super,” she bubbled.

Jake flinched, but his arms went around her with swift possessiveness. “Please. Not that word. You make me feel like a rock star.” His hands were moving in lazy circles on her lower back and buttocks beneath the beach coat, and Jane felt her knees turn to butter. She pressed closer to him and felt the swift exciting hardening of him against her. He drew a deep ragged breath and pushed her reluctantly away. “Damn Lola and her party,” he said thickly. “I'd like nothing better than to tell the whole world to go to hell and spend the evening in bed.” He turned away. “Get dressed, redhead. I'll see you in the lounge.”

A short time later Jane gazed with breathless delight in the mirror. Why, she looked pretty. The chocolate chiffon cocktail-length gown was a masterpiece of artistic drapery that left one golden shoulder bare, hugging her high firm breasts and tiny waist lovingly before flaring to an extravagant fullness at the scalloped hem. The matching satin high-heeled sandals made her legs look deliciously alluring. Her hair curled in shimmering flames about her face in dramatic contrast to the rich darkness of
her gown. Her topaz eyes and the tender pink of her mouth exerted a sensual witchery that Jane had never realized she possessed. The swift kindling in Jake's eyes as she walked into the lounge was as exhilarating and heady as champagne. She barely noticed Kahlid's flattering and verbose compliments as she basked in that ebony glow.

When Jake swung Jane down into the launch, she was surprised to see Marcus Benjamin and Simon Dominic at the wheel in the front of the boat. Impulsively Jane made a sudden movement toward them, and Jake gripped her arm swiftly.

“Over here, darling,” he said caressingly, and shepherded her to a seat near the rear of the boat. He settled her so gallantly, so solicitously, that he might just as well have stamped her with a brand of ownership. She could feel her face burn in the darkness as Jake slipped a casual arm about her waist.

Jane had an idea that Jake's actions were as deliberate and primitive as those of a jungle cat staking out its boundaries. Her move toward Simon had been only an innocent impulse, principally aimed at reassuring herself that she still had Simon's respect and friendship despite her position in his cousin's life. Jake had seized on the excuse to establish his public claim with no regard to the embarrassment such an action would bring her. She couldn't help but feel a burning resentment at the inconsiderateness of his action. “I didn't know that Simon and Captain Benjamin were going with us,” she said tightly.

“Lola insisted,” Jake answered curtly. “She's never happier than when she's surrounded by men—a common feminine characteristic I've noticed.”

Jane maintained a cool silence during the forty-minute ride to the pier at Cozumel. Her own reserve went unremarked in the wake of Lola's vivacious gaiety and Kahlid's equally good spirits. Jake seemed maddeningly undisturbed by Jane's disapproval and displayed a lazy good humor that was a barbed irritant to her rapidly deteriorating mood. Her gaze went frequently to the
front of the launch, where Captain Benjamin and Simon conversed casually in low voices. Both men wore sparkling white uniforms that compared very favorably with Jake's and Kahlid's white tropical dinner jackets and dark pants, Jane thought idly.

Suddenly Jake's grasp around her waist tightened sharply, and his voice in her ear was a silken murmur. “I've always heard that women were fond of men in uniform,” he said caustically. “Don't you think you're being a little obvious in your admiration?”

Jane raised her chin defiantly. “Perhaps I feel an affinity with them,” she said with sweet sarcasm. “If you remember, I was wearing a uniform myself until today. There's a certain kindred spirit among us menials, you know.”

Dominic's rapier glance was as black as his muttered imprecation, and he was grimly silent for the rest of the trip.

El Invernardero was a thoroughly enchanting nightclub located in the heart of Cozumel. It was a converted greenhouse constructed entirely of paneled glass, and a multitude of exotic plants and flowers bordered the interior walls in colorful profusion. The highly polished dance floor was encircled by the usual damask-covered tables, but on each was a charmingly arranged bouquet of fresh flowers.

Their party was shown to a large ringside table by an obsequious waiter. Jake pulled out a chair beside his own for Jane, but Lola had other ideas.

“Don't be selfish, Jake,” she said, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “You can have Jane to yourself anytime.” She gave Jane an imperious nudge that placed her across the table, between Kahlid and Simon. She herself slid into the seat next to Jake and smiled dazzlingly into his frowning face. “Now, isn't this delightful?”

“Delightful,” Jake echoed grimly, his watchful gaze fixed on Kahlid as the sheikh helped Jane solicitously with her chiffon wrap.

For Jane, as the evening wore on, what had promised to be
an exciting and romantic evening with the man she loved rapidly deteriorated into a miserable debacle. Jake's mood progressed from testy to utterly foul. Separated by the width of the table, Jane was still conscious of the black looks she was receiving as she quietly spoke to Kahlid or Simon. What had she done now to deserve his lordship's displeasure? she wondered defiantly. She turned to Kahlid with a sigh of relief. Ahmet's attitude was beautifully uncomplicated. He cared not a whit for morals, blame, and responsibility as long as he was in the presence of an attractive woman and champagne was flowing. He saw to it that champagne continued to flow throughout the evening, and that Jane's glass was constantly filled to the brim.

As Jane's unhappiness grew, she was grateful for Kahlid's attention. Jake had not asked her to dance once in the hours they had been at the nightclub, though he'd danced frequently with Lola. To add to her misery, a depressingly gorgeous blonde with a face that had graced hundreds of magazine covers and wearing a gown with a neckline even more decolleté than Lola's had suddenly appeared at Jake's elbow. She'd been introduced to everyone at the table. Cindy Lockwood, a model from New York, had attached herself to Jake like a seductive limpet. He had danced with the model even more than he had with Lola, Jane noticed unhappily.

The explosive combination of Cindy Lockwood, her own unhappiness and resentment, and Kahlid's champage sparked a wildness in Jane. She proceeded to ignore Jake entirely, dividing her attention between Kahlid and Simon with feverish gaiety. She didn't know how many times she changed partners in the next two hours as she whirled from Simon's arms to Kahlid's and back.

At one point she found herself dancing with a handsome Latin who held her much too close and murmured romantic Spanish nothings in her ear. She vaguely remembered gaily accepting his invitation to dance when the young man presented
himself at their table. His name was Ramon de… something or other, and she found that his arms were just as comforting as Kahlid's or Simon's if she couldn't be with Jake.

Then an authorative hand tapped the man on the shoulder, and she looked up to see a grim-faced Jake beside them. “My dance, I believe,” he said crisply, placing his hand at Jane's waist and whisking her firmly into his own embrace.

Ramon frowned crossly, but after a glance at Jake's face, he turned sulkily away.

“Your Latin lover gives up easily,” Jake said with a savage grin. “I'm disappointed. I was looking forward to rearranging those classic features.”

Jane only half heard him as she nestled closer into his arms, everything forgotten but the blissful fact that she was in Jake's embrace.

“This is the first time we've danced together,” she said dreamily as her arms slipped around his neck. “I did so want to dance with you, Jake.” Her face clouded. “Then somehow everything was spoiled.” She shook her head bewilderedly. It was all too complicated to think about now.

“You seemed to keep yourself well occupied,” he said harshly as they moved languidly around the floor. “It was quite fascinating watching you try out your wiles on every man in the room. Did you enjoy yourself, Delilah?”

“No,” she said simply, her cheek rubbing gently back and forth on his white linen shoulder. “I only wanted you.” She looked up into his face with pleading eyes. “Take me home, Jake.”

He looked down at her, his face expressionless except for the flickering flame in his dark eyes. “Champagne appears to make you quite amorous, my little sex kitten. By all means, let's go back to the yacht. After all, it's my privilege to end the evening with you, regardless of how many men you require to keep you contented.” He stopped dancing in the middle of the room and
turned away abruptly. Grasping her by the wrist, he strode through the dancers toward the front door of the nightclub.

“Where are we going?” Jane gasped, trying to keep pace with his long-legged stride.

“We're going back to the yacht, where else?” he replied mockingly. “You want to be alone with me, remember?”

A nagging uneasiness pierced the golden haze induced by the champagne, like the first rays of sunlight through the morning fog. “But we can't just run off and leave the others without saying a word.”

They had reached the street now, and at Jake's imperious motion, the red-liveried doorman summoned a taxi with his piercing silver whistle.

“I don't see why not,” Jake said coolly. “We'll send the launch back for them.”

He bundled her into the taxi and climbed in after her with a curt order in Spanish to the cab driver.

Jane shivered as her bare shoulder touched the cold vinyl of the upholstery. “My wrap,” she said vaguely, “I left my wrap at the table.”

“Someone will bring it,” Jake said indifferently. His arm slid around her, and he pulled her closer to the heat of his own vibrant body.

Jane rested her head in the curve of his shoulder. She was conscious even in the intimacy of the embrace that his hold was strangely impersonal, and the knowledge would have troubled her if she hadn't suddenly been overcome with drowsiness.

Her next recollection was of being lifted into the launch and wrapped in Jake's white dinner jacket, which smelled deliciously of starch and shaving lotion. Then, after another brief period of sleep, she was aware of being carried in Jake's arms and placed on the unmistakable softness of a bed.

Jane opened her eyes drowsily to see Jake straightening
slowly, his dark face shuttered. She looked around the master cabin of the
Sea Breeze
with a sigh of contentment. How strange that this luxurious suite had so quickly become home to her, she thought dreamily. Even the grotesque graffiti on the wall opposite the bed brought forth only an affectionate smile.

“I'm glad you're back with me, sleeping beauty,” Jake said teasingly, “and in such a good mood, too.”

She turned and smiled happily at him, admiring the tough masculine grace of the rippling muscles in his chest and shoulders as he stripped off the white dress shirt and threw it carelessly on the gray velvet chair across the room.

She came into his arms like a nail to a magnet when he sat down beside her on the bed. Her lips brushed his throat in a multitude of soft, yearning kisses.

His arms held her quietly. “Such a loving, passionate nature,” he said coolly, pushing her away to look down at her with narrowed eyes. “I wonder how much of it is for me alone.” His forefinger idly traced the full curve of her lower lip. “Would you fly just as eagerly into young Simon's arms, now that I've shown you the way?”

She looked up at him, her golden eyes clouded with bewilderment. “I don't understand.”

“That was more than obvious tonight,” he said softly as his hands left her shoulders and moved down her back to deftly unzip the chiffon gown. “But I have every intention of making sure that everything is quite clear to you by morning.”

He unfastened the strapless bra and pushed it, with her dress, to her waist. His dark head bent slowly, and his lips and tongue lazily caressed the pink nipples that soon were blossoming into hardness. “Quite clear,” he repeated thickly.

In the long hours that followed, Jane wondered at one point if she could survive the physical and mental torment that seemed to be tearing her apart. Jake Dominic, the passionate lover who
had brought her to the peak of ultimate ecstasy with skill and tenderness and then shuddered in her arms with his own fierce pleasure, was not this Jake Dominic.

This man also had incredible sexual expertise, but he used it with cool, calculated control. Time after time he used hands and lips that seemed to possess a devilish power to raise her to feverish need. There was no part of her body that was not caressed and probed and then caressed again, until she felt that there was not an inch of her flesh that was not exquisitely and painfully sensitized to his touch. He would toy with her like a large cat, his hot black eyes gleaming with savage satisfaction, until she was almost sobbing with frustrated desire. Then he would grant her completion in a burst of ruthless driving passion that would leave her shuddering like an exhausted and bruised swimmer cast upon the shore by a tidal wave.