Blue Mist of Morning (15 page)

"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.