Sweet Silken Bondage (50 page)

"So do I," he replied.

She caught a glimpse of some flaring emotion in
his eyes before his expression suddenly turned grim
and he looked away. The beat of the music was fast
and sensual, and Reina instinctively followed Clay's
lead as if she'd been made just to be in his arms.
The throbbing, heated pace heightened their physical awareness of each other.

Clay knew he should march Reina back upstairs,
tie her to the bed and keep watch over her until
their boat left port. But for some Feason he couldn't
fathom, he was driven to do this. He'd almost lost
control when he'd seen her dancing with the other
men. She'd told them she wanted to enjoy the party.
Well, he was going to make sure she did.

When the music ended, Reina was breathless from the exertion. Clay took her hand and practically dragged her to a table at the edge of the
dance area. He signalled for drinks to be brought
to them.

"Leave it," he ordered tersely as he paid the man
for the bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

The servant scurried away, and Clay splashed
liberal amounts of the cheap liquor in the two
tumblers, then handed Reina one.

"I really don't want it," she said, not picking up
the glass immediately.

"It's what you had with your other companions,
isn't it?"

"Yes, but."

"Then drink it, Reina, or I swear I'll pour it
down your lovely throat."

His threat was a cold angry one, and she knew
she'd better do as she was told. She took a sip of
the terrible whiskey and grimaced.

"Drink it all. Now. You're the one who wanted to
join the party. Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

Holding her breath, she downed it, then glared at
him furiously. "There! Are you satisfied?"

Sudden icy contempt flashed in his eyes. "Not
yet, my dear. How about another one to celebrate
your near escape?" He didn't give her time to answer, but poured more in her glass and added some
to his own. He drained his without even seeming to
notice the potency of what he was drinking. "You
don't seem very happy, Reina," he remarked derisively. "Would you like to dance again?"

"I don't want to dance, and I don't want to drink
anymore," she said through clenched teeth, wanting
only to escape the surrounding revelers.

"I don't care what you want. I insist."

Clay drew her to her feet and led her out onto the dance floor again just as the music stopped.
They had to wait a moment for another tune, and
when it began, Reina was dismayed to find it was a
slow melody. Obsessed with proving his point, he
pulled her tight against him as he began to move.

Reina didn't want to dance with Clay, and most
certainly she didn't want to like dancing with Clay.
The potent liquor was beginning to affect her,
though, and the temptation to relax and enjoy the
feel of his warm, strong arm around her and the
easy fluid motion of his lead was growing. She
struggled against it, determinedly. Yet, even as she
fought her conflicting feelings for her captor, she
realized that he had saved her from Leo and
Mickey Whether she was willing to admit it or not,
she'd needed him. She might have been dead by
now if he hadn't stepped in.

The fact that Clay had been so fierce in protecting her to the point of being willing to kill for her
sent a shiver through Reina. She wondered if he'd
rescued her because of the money or because he
cared about her. The thought troubled her. Her
heart longed to think that he'd saved her because he
felt something for her. But logic pointed out that he
was a man for hire, a man with a job to do. Reina
wondered why that thought pained her so badly,
and she refused to think about it further.

The whiskey's magical potency began to work
upon her beleaguered senses then. Her better judgment suddenly seemed to have lost influence with
her, and she found herself relaxing and enjoying
being with Clay without fighting. The headiness of
the slow dance and the sheer pleasure of being held
so close against him set her senses reeling. She
wanted this. She wanted him. She let her eyes close
as she imagined in her alcohol-induced fantasy that they were far away from here and the ugliness of
their current situation. It was a pleasant dream,
and she clung to it.

Clay sensed the subtle change in Reina as he felt
the tension ease from her. He glanced down, wondering at her mood. He expected to see anger and
rebellion in her expression. Instead, what he saw
reflected on her lovely face shocked him. Her stubborn expression was gone. There was no look of
defiance, no look of hatred. She looked positively
radiant, and her eyes had drifted shut as if she was
truly enjoying the dance. Clay stifled a groan of
defeat as his gaze shifted lower to her mouth, for
her lips were moist and soft and slightly parted, as
if she was breathlessly waiting for his kiss.

A sudden, near violent need to crush her to his
chest and kiss her possessed Clay. He didn't understand it. He only knew that he had to have her.
Now. Anything that had gone before between them
was lost in his obsession to make love to her. He
continued to dance with her, but he slowly made his
way toward the hotel. Reaching the walk that led
inside, he didn't speak, but merely stopped dancing
and took her hand in his to lead her off.

Reina's senses were attuned to his. As he drew
her with him with a gentle yet firm touch, there
was no balking, no fighting. She instinctively knew
what he wanted, for she wanted the same thing
herself. She wanted to belong to him in every way.

Neither of them spoke as they crossed the lobby
and made their way to their rooms. Clay did not
even bother with her door, but went straight to his
own. Unlocking it, he swept her up into his arms
and went inside. He kicked it shut behind him,
pausing only long enough to lock it and then give
her a lingering kiss.

Reina returned his embrace with a passionate
fervor of her own. When he moved to the bed to
lay her upon it, she kept her arms around his neck
and drew him down with her.

Clay could not stop kissing her or touching her.
This thing between them was elemental in its
strength. Like the winds of a storm or the crashing
waves of the sea, it could not be stopped or controlled. It was love, the most powerful force on
earth, and sharing it as they were only increased its
potency and its need.

His mouth moved over hers, parting her lips and
tasting of the honeyed sweetness there. As his hands
sought her breasts, she whimpered softly in excitement. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his back as he unfastened the buttons of
her bodice. Clay parted the material, baring her
breasts to his caresses, and she cried out to him in
ecstasy as he sought out the sensitive, passion-hardened crests. When his lips followed the path his
hands had traced, she arched against him, longing
to be closer to him.

Their clothing was a barrier against the intimacy
they both craved, and Clay moved slightly away to
unbutton his own shirt and strip it off. Reina's eyes
were glowing as she stared at the broad expanse of
his chest. She sat up slightly, shrugging free of the
remnants of her dress so she was bared to the waist
and then leaned forward to press kisses to that
broad, hard plane of muscles.

Clay groaned aloud at her move, and he tangled
his fingers in her hair and pulled her back so he
could kiss her. The feel of her velvety breasts
against him sent his desire soaring, and he knew he
could wait no longer to seek that perfect union with
her.

They broke apart and shed the last of their clothing, then came back together in a blaze of passion.
He slid over her, seeking her lips as he fit himself
to her. It thrilled him when she adjusted for him,
and he moved deep within her, filling her with his
love. Reina welcomed him eagerly. She held him
close, taking all he had to give and returning it full
measure.

In exquisite harmony, they began the tempo together. They were on fire with the need for that
glorious rapture that came only with fulfillment.
The heights of passion beckoned them onward.
They ascended, scaling the peak to the crest where
enchantment burst upon them in a sparkling rainbow of delight. Enthralled, they cried each other's
name, acknowledging in that moment of splendor,
the power and depth of their need.

The turbulence of their desire sated, they kissed
once more. It was a tantalizing, lingering kiss, a
kiss of promise and of the unspoken emotion neither of them would admit. Clay cradled her near,
savoring the softness of her against him.

Reality was blurred by the haze of euphoria that
surrounded them. Whether liquor-induced or not,
neither cared. They lay in each other's arms without
speaking. Touching and kissing, cherishing and loving, until at long last a blissful peace enveloped
them both, and they slept.

It was the middle of the night when Reina came
awake to find herself lying quietly on her side next
to Clay, one leg entwined with his, her hand resting
over his heart. Thinking of the perfect beauty that
had transpired between them, she realized with a
deep sadness in her heart that she had fallen in love with him. It was a terrible truth, a miserable truth,
but the truth nonetheless.

Reina wasn't sure how it had happened, and she
supposed it didn't really matter. All that mattered
was that she loved him and that it could never be,
for he didn't love her. He had merely taken what
she'd offered.

A tear trickled down her cheek, and a great sense
of impending doom overwhelmed her as she realized
how completely hopeless her situation was now.
There would be no more chances to escape. Her
best attempts had proven futile. She was condemned
to the life her father had chosen for her... a life
spent married to a man she couldn't stand.

A ragged sigh tore from Reina as she fought to
keep from crying harder. She didn't want to awaken
Clay. She didn't even want to talk with him again if
she could help it, for she feared that she might
accidentally give herself away. She didn't want him
to know how she felt about him. He worked for her
father. He was his ally, not hers. No matter what
they had shared physically, he was not her friend.

Withdrawing from all contact with him, she
moved as far away from him as she could and then
huddled in misery there under the blanket. In just
a few short weeks she would be at Rancho Alvarez.
It used to be that there was nowhere else she'd
rather be than home, but now the prospect filled
her with despair. Her future stretched bleakly, endlessly before her, and she wondered how she would
ever suffer through it.

Reina lay for what seemed like hours before she
finally got back to sleep, but even then, it was a
fitful, restless slumber that did nothing to ease the
grimness that now possessed her soul.

Clay awoke shortly after daybreak to find Reina
sleeping by his side. He marvelled at her loveliness
and had to resist the urge to touch her again. He
lay back, staring at the ceiling, a forearm resting
across his forehead as he went over in his mind all
that had happened the night before.

Reina...she was so beautiful and so responsive
to his lovemaking. Even now, heat filled him as he
remembered the ecstasy of being buried deep within
her body. It was almost as if they were made for
one another, so perfect had their lovemaking been.

Vaguely, Clay wondered how he could allow himself to feel this way about her. She was the object of
his search. She was the treasure that had to be
returned to its rightful owner. Yet, somehow, somewhere along the way, he'd allowed himself to care
about her. Her beauty and intelligence and pure
grit impressed him. She was nearly indomitable. He
was lucky that he'd been sharp enough to keep up
with her. Any ordinary man would have been run
ragged.

A small, proud smile curved his mouth as he
turned his head to gaze at her again. Asleep, she
looked innocent and almost unearthly beautiful, but
he knew better. She was filled with more fire than
ten other women, and the fire in her had ignited a
hot, flaming blaze within him. Something stirred
within his heart, too, something he couldn't quite
put a name to, but that moved him deeply.

It shocked Clay to discover that he felt this
strongly about Reina. He knew it was ridiculous for
him to care. He knew without a doubt that she
despised him and that she was already pledged to
someone else. He'd only be making a fool of himself
if he allowed these feelings to come to mean any thing to him. There could be no future for them.
No matter what he felt for her, there was still Dev
to consider.

At the memory of his friend, Clay left the bed
and, after pulling on his pants, he went to stand at
the window and stare out at the rising sun. Soon
they would be back in California. Soon he would
give Reina back to her father. Dev would then be
freed, and they would be able to get on with their
lives.

As he thought about it now, though, Clay was
filled with a terrible guilt at the prospect of turning
Reina over to him. He glanced back at her where
she lay so quietly, so defenselessly, and a great ache
expanded within his chest.

Sternly, he denied the emotion that threatened.
Only Dev was important. His own feelings meant
nothing. Reina didn't need him or want him, and
she'd already proven what a survivor she was. No,
things would be fine once he delivered her home to
her waiting father.