Blue Mist of Morning (16 page)

"Anne, come here," he commanded quite sternly, causing the
first stirring of apprehension in her.

She hesitated. "But…"

"Just come," he repeated tersely, altering her
apprehension to fear. When she still didn't move, he reached out one
hand to her and said with deliberate calm, "I read recently that sharks
often attack in about three feet of water."

With the word shark, she panicked. When he moved toward
her, she lunged at him, clutching the hand he held out and nearly
catapulting herself against him as he swiftly drew her from the deeper
water. Sweeping her up in his strong arms, he carried her back onto the
beach, and she clung to his shoulders and buried her face in his neck
as a delayed reaction began to make her shake violently.

"You saw something out there!" she squeaked. "Didn't you?
Didn't you see something?"

"Not a thing," he replied laconically. "But this little
trick always works."

For a moment she was too stunned to speak, but the soft
laughter rumbling in his chest confirmed his words. "
Ty
!"
she protested, pushing at his shoulders to free herself, but to no
avail. "What a terrible thing to do! You nearly scared me to death! Oh,
that wasn't fair. It really wasn't. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Ah, but I'm not," he whispered close to her ear. "If you
play games, then I play, too, and that little deception got you right
where I want you."

Before she could even begin to protest his statement, he
had dropped to his knees on the towel and was tenderly putting her
down. His dark eyes swept over the ivory skin that shimmered with a
satin-like sheen in the moonglow. Then he was close beside her, one
powerful hair-roughened leg pinning both hers beneath its weight.
Hearing her startled intake of breath, he cupped her face in both his
hands and lowered his dark head.

"Ty," she breathed, but the soft sound was captured by his
warm, firm mouth. His lips closed on the lower curve of hers and his
strong, even teeth nibbled the softness, sending ripples of ecstasy
throughout her body. As the tip of his tongue probed the tender flesh
of her inner lip, inflaming her senses, she fought the aching need to
yield to him, but lost. Her fingers tangled feverishly in his hair, as
the fire he had kindled sent flames dancing over every inch of her
skin. A central, aching emptiness made itself known inside her with
throbbing insistence. When he turned her to him and his hands curved
over her gently rounded hips, pressing her close, her legs tangled with
his. She could feel the hardness of his body against her slender thigh,
and following a feminine instinct older than time, she rubbed her leg
against him, smiling sensuously when a soft groan came from deep in his
throat.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she drew her hands
slowly over his broad smooth back, then traced the outline of taut
muscles with trembling fingertips.

His lips plundered the soft sweetness of hers, and with
each gentle nip of his teeth, she strained closer against him, unable
to get near enough. Though their bodies seemed to fit perfectly
together, the emptiness within her was becoming all-consuming. His
tongue sought the opening flower of her mouth, tasting the honey
sweetness within. As his warm, minty breath filled her throat, she was
lost in a turmoil of desires that clamored to be fulfilled. With a
muffled exclamation, he pressed her slight body down into the towel,
and his hand beneath her hips arched her soft warmth upward to meet the
dominating iron hardness of his thighs.

Anne was alive with quickening sensations. She explored
his shoulders with her lips, touching the tip of her tongue against his
heated skin until his hungry mouth sought and took hers again. One lean
hand curved over her right hipbone, pressing her down, then spread
possessively over her flat abdomen, his fingers brushing the
exquisitely sensitive skin of her upper thighs.

When he urgently untied the cords of her swimsuit and
peeled the fabric down until her breasts were bared, she moaned softly
with the first touch of his fingers on the creamy skin with the light
caress of a gentle breeze, he explored the rounded fullness, making her
breathless with waiting, until at last he began to trace circles around
the throbbing, swollen peaks. The rough edge of his thumbs brushed over
the roseate crests, and when they hardened beneath his touch, he tasted
first one, then the other, grazing his tongue over each in turn.

Fire surged through her body, and she made a soft,
tremulous sound of delight as his hand slipped beneath the swimsuit to
stroke the satiny skin of her abdomen, but as his fingers moved lower,
she tensed instinctively.

"Anne, love," he whispered coaxingly, his lips playing
with her own. "Try to relax. I want you so badly and you want me. We
don't need to wait any longer."

She wasn't his love, but at that moment, it didn't matter.
All that mattered was giving her love to him. Unable to answer him in
words, she responded by urging his mouth down to hers again.

"I won't rush you, I promise," he muttered, bringing both
hands up to cup her face as hers cupped his. The planes of his lean
face hardened beneath her fingertips as he tempered a long, arousing
kiss with exquisite tenderness.

But even as she breathed a shuddering sigh that signaled
total surrender, the moment was shattered by the sound of voices and
laughter farther along the beach.

In the shadow of the reef, Ty and Anne weren't visible. As
Ty tensed at the sound of the intruders and cursed beneath his breath,
Anne peered over his left shoulder and saw at least ten people milling
around near the first in the line of palm trees. When she recognized
Jenny as one of them, she hastily pulled away from Ty and rearranged
her swimsuit. "It's Jenny, Mike and Rob, I guess," she told him. "Looks
like they and some of their friends are gathering driftwood to build a
fire."

"What terrific timing they have," Ty muttered grumpily,
but when she smiled, a smile hovered on his firmly carved lips, too.
Taking her small face between his hands, he gazed intently at her as
his thumbs stroked the delicate arches of her brows. "I wish they
hadn't come, Anne, but it won't happen this way again. There must be
some private place on St. Croix, and I intend to find it and take you
there tomorrow night… if you're willing to go."

As he stood and pulled her up beside him, she was suddenly
too shy to meet his eyes, but she nodded. She knew then that she would
go with him tomorrow night. She loved him, and even knowing there were
women like Millicent Beaumont in his life, she would go with him
anywhere, anytime.

Saturday evening Anne sat at the dressing table, brushing
her freshly washed hair. In the warm lamplight, the golden strands
shimmered with every move of her head, and the sun-streaked healthy
sheen didn't diminish, even as she quickly wove a plait and pinned it
into a chignon on her nape. That persistently wayward tendril sprang
loose and brushed her cheek, but tonight she didn't really care if it
did. Leaning toward the mirror, she examined her complexion, flawless
except for a sparse scattering of freckles. An excited sparkle glowed
in her gray eyes. Heightened color tinted her cheeks and a secretive
smile curved her lips, as she turned to watch Jenny leave the adjoining
bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head.

Pausing to secure the tie of her bathrobe, the younger
girl eyed Anne speculatively for a moment, then snapped her fingers.
"Hey, would you do me a favor? After I blow dry my hair, will you help
me put it up the way you have yours? I'm tired of this mop of mine
hanging down my back all the time—makes me look too young.
I'm sure I'd look much more mature if I put mine up, too."

With a slight toss of one hand, Anne nodded. "Sure I'll
help you put it up, if that's really what you want. But I have to tell
you that I think your hair is very beautiful hanging free down your
back."

Jenny grimaced. "It might look beautiful for a little
girl, but I'm seventeen. I think it's time to change my image."
Scooting across the room, she rummaged through her unpacked suitcase,
then dragged out a small hair dryer. Scanning the walls of the room for
an electrical outlet, she added in an offhanded manner, "You sure do
look all aglow tonight. Any special reason? Are Bob and Meg Peterson
planning some big treat or something?"

"Actually, Ty and I won't be with Mr. and Mrs. Peterson
tonight," Anne answered, adjusting the lapels of the royal blue kimono
she was wearing. "They had already accepted an invitation to a party
for tonight before Ty decided to come here, so he insisted they go.
He's just taking me out to dinner."

Jenny nodded absently, as if she saw nothing unusual in
those plans. Then, spying an outlet on the opposite wall, she went to
plug in the dryer cord. "Mind if I sit on your bed while I dry my
hair?" she asked, even as she flopped down on it and began to unwind
the towel covering her head. "I hope this mess gets dry fast. Rob wants
me to be ready by seven. He's taking Mike and me to a new disco near
Frederiksted."

Standing, Anne smoothed the kimono down over her gently
rounded hips. "You know, I think you're really having fun here. I'm
glad you came."

"Oh, me too," the younger girl agreed with a careless toss
of one hand. "I never guessed how much fun I'd have with Rob and Mike.
They can both be so zany."

Wisely, Anne didn't mention Kirt Callen, and as the hair
dryer suddenly came on with a roar, she could only hope that this
pleasant weekend had helped Ty's sister to see that young men nearer
her own age were much more suitable companions for her than Kirt could
ever be.

Glancing at the wristwatch she had put on the dressing
table, Anne found that it was only six-thirty. Another whole hour had
to pass before she and Ty were to leave for the restaurant, and she was
beginning to feel less than calm. Though she had spent most of the day
with Ty, he had never mentioned what his after-dinner plans included,
but she had been unable to forget what he had said last night on the
beach. His promise to find some private place where they could be alone
together this evening had been foremost in her thoughts all day. And
now with the evening almost upon her, she wondered if she had been
insane to agree to go to such a place with him. A few short weeks ago,
she would never have considered planning such an irrevocable step, but
now her feelings for Ty superseded all her innate caution. More than
anything in the world, she wanted to be alone with him.

It was too early to dress. Yet, Anne couldn't sit still.
After glancing at Jenny who was humming loudly to herself and staring
out the window as she dried her hair, Anne tugged the kimono more
snugly about her and secured the tie belt, then left the bedroom.
Directly across the hall, Ty's door was closed, but hearing his shower
running, Anne knew she should be in no hurry to get ready. All she had
to do was slip into her dress and shoes anyway.

The gleaming parquet floor of the great room was cool
beneath her bare feet, as she passed through and stepped out onto the
veranda. The early evening air was filled with the perfume of countless
flowers, which she inhaled appreciatively. Leaning on the railing, she
gazed up at the bowl of blue sky tinted in the west by the orange hue
of the setting sun. There was a peaceful silence over the lush exotic
greenery that was broken only by the rhythmic breaking of waves on the
reef. With grating abruptness, however, the quiet was shattered by the
jangling ring of the phone. Simply to stop the intrusive noise, Anne
rushed into the great room to pick up the receiver and was immediately
assaulted by a strident feminine voice.

"I want to speak to Ty," the woman demanded.

"He's unable to come to the phone right now," Anne
replied. "Could I give him a message?"

"Yes. No! Just get him and bring him to the phone," the
woman commanded rather frantically. "I'm sure he'll come if you tell
him it's Millicent calling."

Anne's heart sank, and her stomach tightened so painfully
that she almost felt nauseous. She glanced down the hall toward Ty's
room, and for a fleeting instant she was tempted to tell Millicent he
wasn't there. Yet, an inherent honestly prevented her from uttering the
lie. After taking a deep breath, she spoke into the phone. "Hold on
please. I'll tell him you wish to speak with him."

"But wait," Millicent called before Anne could put down
the receiver. "Tell him that I'm here on St. Croix at Daddy's beach
house."

Anne's shoulders drooped slightly as she agreed to do
that, but she resolutely squared them again as she walked to Ty's room.
When she knocked lightly, he answered almost immediately, too
disturbingly attractive in a short white terry bathrobe, tied loosely
around his trim waist. His initial smile faded when she didn't return
it.

"Millicent Beaumont is on the phone," Anne announced in
her most prim businesslike voice. "She wanted me to tell you that she
is here on St. Croix at her father's beach house."

"Millicent's here?" Ty muttered, raking his fingers
through hair still damp from his shower. Then without another word and
only a brooding glance at Anne, he stepped out of his room and strode
down the hall.

An ever-increasing constriction in Anne's throat made it
difficult to swallow, as she walked back into her own bedroom.

"Hey, my hair'll be dry in a minute or two," Jenny yelled
over the roar of the dryer. "Then you can help me put it up, okay?"

Nodding, Anne sank down on the red velvet cushion of the
dressing table chair. Her gaze involuntarily sought her best black
dress hanging in the open closet across from her. Now there was a very
real possibility that she wouldn't be wearing anything besides her
kimono, because she might not be going anywhere.