Always

Three

Lisa stared blankly at the closed door. The abrupt change from brisk, threatening incisiveness to half-humorous sensuality had once more caught her off guard. How many sides were there to, the man's personality, anyway? She drew a deep breath and turned toward the bathroom. Even if she hadn't felt abominably gritty, she would have obeyed Donahue's last suggestion. He was too unknown a quantity for her to be certain that he'd been joking, and she definitely didn't want to be exposed to any more intimacies. She was still too bewildered and wary about her reaction to Donahue just now on the beach to take a chance of repeating the scene.

Forty minutes later she had finished showering, shampooing and drying her hair. Another ten minutes and she was dressed in baggy white linen slacks and a loose thigh-length cotton sweater in a warm melon shade. She coiled her hair in a careless knot on top of her head and nodded with satisfaction at her reflection in the mirror. No one could say there was anything in the least provocative about her appearance, and that was just what she intended. She thrust her feet into white canvas sandals and was ready for the fray. For a moment she stood there, trying to gather her composure. She had to come to an understanding with Donahue, and she hoped that understanding would bring them to terms on her release. If she could maintain the same aggressiveness and cool control she had noticed in him, perhaps he would see that she wouldn't permit him to keep her here. The only problem was that aggressiveness wasn't exactly her area of expertise. If it had been, she wouldn't be having this painful dilemma with Martin. She had always been too soft, and Martin had known exactly how to manipulate that weakness to his own advantage.;

But Donahue didn't know about that regrettable softness, and if she put up a bold-enough front, perhaps he wouldn't discover it.

Well, she couldn't sit meekly in her own room and wait for Donahue to come to her. That would automatically place him in a position of psychological power. She strode swiftly to the door through which he'd disappeared and tried it. It was unlocked. She threw it open and went in search of Donahue.

The living area of the villa was as quietly luxurious as the bedroom, with thick carpets in a shade of antique gold and contemporary furniture inhues of brown, ranging from deepest chocolate to creamy beige. Everything was sleek, beautifully decorated, extremely expensive, and somehow… impersonal. Yes, that was the word. It had the impersonal air of a hotel room.

The kitchen where she found Donahue was equally efficient and impersonal. Stainless-steel and cool blues predominated, but they were no more icy than the glance Donahue threw her as he whirled to face her when she walked through the louvered door. For an instant his face was wary, his stance as ready for action as a cocked pistol. Then he recognized her and obviously forced himself to relax. What kind of experiences and how many years living on the edge of danger had bred that wariness? she wondered with a fleeting sympathy. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought we should get that discussion out of the way."

"I didn't expect you." He pointed to the breakfast bar across the room. "Sit down. I've made you a chefs salad and a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich. Do you want coffee or milk?"

"Coffee." She hesitated a moment, then walked over to the navy-blue cushioned stool he'd indicated. So much for her aggressive, businesslike behavior. Donahue was treating her with the casual intimacy of an invited guest, making it impossible for her to respond with the belligerence she would have chosen to display. "This isn't necessary. If you'd just let me go back to the hotel, you wouldn't have to bother with KP duty."

"It's no bother." He crossed the room and set the wooden salad bowl in front of her. "All we have onhand is a bottle of Italian dressing. Will that be all right?" "Yes, but…"

He wasn't listening. He was at the refrigerator taking out a bottle of dressing and a container of cream. He set the two items before her. "I usually make coffee a little strong. I hope that's all right." "Fine." With barely contained impatience, she watched him pour two cups from the pot on the counter. "I'm not really hungry. I want to talk-?'

"Eat. We'll talk later." He smiled faintly. "You'll need your strength."

Lisa cast him a rebellious glance and reached for the coffee. She almost choked as she took a sip. "A little strong! Good Lord, what did you use to brew it? Tar?"

He frowned and tasted his own coffee, then immediately made a face. "Sorry. I've had to have it this strong to keep me awake for the last twenty-four hours. I must have automatically made it the same strength this time."

"You haven't slept for over twenty-four hours?" she asked, startled.

"Closer to forty-eight, not counting the catnap I took on the plane from L.A." He took her cup to the sink and poured it down the drain, then did the same with the coffee in the coffee maker on the countertop. "I'll make a fresh pot."

"Why?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

"Why did you stay awake? You couldn't have been afraid I'd escape. I was practically a zombie."

"I made you a promise," he said simply. "You seemed worried about…" He paused. "Aboutbeing alone when John brought you to the villa. I promised I wouldn't leave you."

She felt a sudden flutter of warmth, which she was quick to suppress. "That sounds remarkably sentimental for a man in your profession." She looked down at the plate in front of her. "Are you sure you weren't just afraid I'd kick the bucket and leave you to face a murder charge?"

He frowned. "I'm sure. I don't lie, Lisa. If I make a statement, then you can be damn sure it's the truth as I see it. I don't deny I was worried about you, even though the doctor at the lab assured me you'd safely sleep off the effects of the overdose. You could have been more obliging and reacted as they predicted. First you woke up earlier than they said you would. Then you zonked out again and proceeded to sleep like Rip Van Winkle. I've never been so scared in my life as when you decided to oversleep the lab boys' estimate, but it was for you I was frightened, not myself." He reset the strength level on the coffee maker and turned to face her. "Alex told me the other night that he thought I'd finally run across something I couldn't handle. I denied it. I wouldn't deny it today."

She averted her eyes and took a bite of her sandwich. "Not many men could handle a kidnapping with aplomb."

"The kidnapping I can handle. It's what happened between us on the beach that I'm having problems with. I think you know that."

Lisa looked up swiftly and felt a wild tremor run through her. His eyes held the same smoky intensity they had such a short time ago. She felt a slow languid melting sensation in the pit of her stomach. She knew she should look away, but it seemed impossible when the world had narrowed to contain only the two of them. She continued to gaze helplessly across the room at him.

It was Donahue who finally looked away. "You're not eating," he growled as he turned to pour her a fresh cup of coffee. "No more talk until you're finished."

They hadn't really been talking in the last moment or two, but the bands of communication had been loud and crystal clear. Too clear. Lisa immediately grasped the excuse to avoid a confrontation with the exact nature of that communication. "Okay." She took a bite of her sandwich. "Later."

Her throat was so tight she found it difficult to swallow. She managed to finish the sandwich and a little of the salad. She didn't taste much, however, with Donohue leaning lazily against the cabinet and watching her with narrowed eyes. She pushed away the plates. "I don't want any more."

"Good." He straightened. "We can take your coffee into the study. Come on." He crossed the room and lifted her from the stool. She felt a tiny shock of sensation as his hands grasped her waist. She inhaled sharply and hoped desperately he hadn't noticed. She glanced up at him.

He nodded gravely. "I felt it, too. Pretty explosive, isn't it?" He released her and picked up her cup and saucer. "I think we'd better avoid physical contact for the time being. The study is down the hall and to your left."

"All right." Lisa avoided his eyes as she hurried ahead of him down the hall. She was losing confidence by the moment. When she reached the study she chose a wing chair beside the huge mahogany desk and tried to look as businesslike as the room itself. That impersonality was immediately nullified when Donahue handed her coffee to her, then dropped down on the carpet at her feet, leaning against the desk, and linked his hands loosely about his knees.

He stared at her. "I want to go to bed with you," he said softly.

She almost dropped the coffee cup. "That wasn't what I wanted to talk about, Donahue."

"It's the only thing I'm interested in discussing, but we'll touch on the item that's your primary interest first. I can't let you go until Baldwin shows up." He smiled with beguiling warmth. "Discussion closed. Now let's talk about going to bed."

She drew a deep, exasperated breath. "Donahue, I won't deny there's a certain chemical attraction betw-"

"Clancy," he corrected. His eyes were fixed on her face. "I want to hear you say my name." His voice dropped to a velvet whisper. "Say it, Lisa."

She would not be caught up in that breathtaking intimacy again. Yet she found herself repeating, "Clancy."

She was rewarded by that same rare smile. "I like that. Thank you, acushla." The faint brogue was more pronounced now and so was the appealing Gaelic charm she'd noticed so fleetingly in the dressing room.

She looked down at the cup in her hands. "I won't let you dismiss the subject so lightly. You behaved outrageously and-"

He suddenly sat upright, kneeling by her chair. "Look, you don't understand." He took the cup from her hands and put it on the floor beside the chair. Then he gathered her hands in his big, warm clasp. "It's not important anymore. Even if I didn't have a reason for using you to lure Baldwin here, we'd have to deal with him anyway. First, because he's making you so damn miserable, and second, because he's a part of your life I have to face and eliminate."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Eliminate? You mean…"

He shook his head. "I wish I could, but I know it's not that simple now. There'd always be a cloud hanging over our life if I conveniently 'removed' your first husband."

"First," she repeated dazedly.

He smiled. "First. I'm going to be your next and your last husband. We're going to be married, you know."

"No, I didn't know. This is utterly insane."

"I agree completely."

"We don't even know each other."

"That's definitely a stumbling block, but one that can be easily remedied in this situation."

"You have to be joking." Her eyes were wide in her pale face.

He shook his head. "If I am, the joke's on me. I'm not a boy any longer. I suppose it must seem a little ludicrous to you that a man of my age could fall in love as violently as any teenager, but that's what I've done." He lifted her left palm to his lips and pressed a warm kiss on the soft skin. Holding her gaze with his own, he said softly, "I've fallen in lovewith you, Lisa Landon. Wildly, passionately, romantically, and with all the accompanying uncomfortable symptoms. I'm jealous as hell, possessive, and miserably uncertain." He shook his head. "You can laugh if you like. I know I must be funny as the devil."

"I don't feel like laughing." Her palm was tingling, burning beneath his lips, and she felt panic racing within her. "You actually mean it, don't you?"

"I told you I didn't lie. Of course I mean it."

She moistened her lips. "I'm not ever going to be married again. Not ever."

"I won't push you. I'll give you the time you need to adjust to the idea," he said quietly. "I just thought I'd better get everything out in the open. This situation is complicated enough without your misunderstanding my intentions." He smiled with surprising sweetness. "My intention is to marry you and love you for the rest of our lives. Is that clear enough?"

Lisa shook her head. "I won't marry you, Clancy. Not if you wait a hundred years." She met his eyes directly. "And I don't love you."

"I didn't expect you to love me. It would have been too much to hope that we'd both succumb to the same insanity." His warm, wet tongue suddenly stroked her palm. "But you do want me. I'm experienced enough to recognize those particular signs. I'll start with that and work my way up."

"No! I won't let you-" She broke off. His teeth were gently nibbling at the smooth tips of her fingers. She felt her heart jerk and then start to pound wildly. "Clancy, stop. I'm not like this. Idon't fall into bed with every man who crooks his finger."

"I know that. It was all in your dossier. You haven't been with a man since you divorced Baldwin. After I realized the exact nature of my affliction, I found that very comforting reading."

"That damn dossier." His tongue was licking the hollows at the base of her fingers, and she had to concentrate to bring her thoughts back to the subject. "It's practically indecent to pry into a woman's personal life like that."

"I'll ask Alex to send you mine. It must still be around somewhere. Then we'll be even."

She could see the drumming of the pulse in his temple and felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch that vital life force.

"Okay?"

"What?" He was so warm and alive that she could feel the heat and vitality radiating from his big body, surrounding her, nearly overpowering her.

He grinned. "Why do I feel you aren't paying proper attention to my soulful declaration? Which isn't at all kind, considering that I've never told a woman I was mad about her before."

"You're mad, period. Love at first sight is something out of a storybook. Sexual attraction at first sight I can accept. But love…" She shook her head. "It's too farfetched. In a few days you'll be glad I didn't take you seriously."

"Not that farfetched. I've seen it happen before, but I've always been on the outside looking in. I'm familiar enough with the phenomenon to recognize it when it appears on my horizon." He gently touched her lips with his fingertips. "I neverthought it would happen to me. I thought I would just go on forever, doing my job and hovering on the edge of relationships, but never really being involved. Do you know what a miracle this is for me?"

She felt her throat tighten painfully. "I'm the wrong woman," she said huskily. "I won't let myself get involved with any man. Find someone else, Clancy."

"I can't. You may be the wrong woman, but you're the only woman."

"I'll hurt you." There was a note of desperation in her voice. "Give it up. I don't want to cause anyone pain, Clancy. There's too much of that in the world already."

"I'll take my chances." His index finger traced the curve of her lower lip. "You have a beautiful mouth. I love to see you smile. It lights up the whole world. You don't do it often enough, though."

"Clancy, for God's sake, listen to me."

"I'm listening." His eyes met hers. "Thank you for the warning, acushla, but it's too late. I don't have a choice any longer. I have to try." He smiled faintly. "I must warn you that I can be a fairly tough customer when I go after something, and there will be no holds barred this time. It's a battle I've got to win."

"You can't win, dammit? It's a no-win situation." Her lower lip was throbbing and felt swollen and satin soft beneath the light caress of his finger. That throbbing seemed to be sending out shock waves to every nerve ending in her body. "Let me go."

He shook his head. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to now. We have to finish what we've started."

"We haven't started anything. Now is the time to-" His hands were suddenly at her waist and he pulled her to the floor beside him. "Clancy!"

His blue eyes were dancing. "I have to show you that it's already begun, don't I?" His big hands gently framed her face. "Don't worry. I'm not going to attack. I just want to make a point." His head lowered slowly until his warm breath feathered her lips. He was barely touching her and she could feel the tremors begin to sear through her. He chuckled. "That's not the only thing I want to make, of course, but it will do for a start." His lips touched hers with the greatest delicacy, tasting, brushing, moving, giving her only enough to tantalize without satisfying. His broad chest brushed against her breasts as he shifted position to angle her lips to meet his. She inhaled sharply and felt him hesitate for the fraction of an instant before his lips closed on hers once more. He lifted his head. "Your breasts are exquisitely sensitive, aren't they?" he murmured. "I thought they were." He rubbed his upper body against her with a slow, sinuous movement. She couldn't breathe, and the tremors had centered to become a pulsating ache between her thighs. Her breasts were firming, swelling, and she could feel the hard crest of her nipples thrust against the knit of her sweater. Her eyes closed as she reached for his shoulders to keep herself from swaying. "Earlier, on the beach, I wanted to do this," he said thickly. "And so much more. I wanted to take that satin top off you and just look at you. I wanted to take your nipples in my fingersand make them come alive for me." His hands dropped away from her face to the hollow of her back, arching her up against him. The sound she made deep in her throat was a half moan. "I wanted to use my tongue, my lips, and my teeth." Lisa could hear the heavy pounding of his heart against her breasts, and it triggered a melting somewhere deep within her. She swayed and knew if his hands hadn't been supporting her, her knees would have given way. "I wanted to touch you with every part of me. I still do."

"Please. This is crazy." For heaven's sake, it was the lightest of foreplay and she was about to go up in smoke. She had never before experienced anything even remotely resembling this emotional tempest. "Clancy, this has got to stop."

"I know." His chest labored with the harshness of his breathing as he tightened his arms around her. "It's getting out of hand. Give me a minute."

That was easy to say. The muscles of his chest were still pressed against her, and she could sense his sexual arousal as a living force, swirling in waves around her. There was no aphrodisiac stronger than the knowledge of that arousal. Her hands pressed against his chest. It was a mistake, for now she could feel the heated thunder of his heart against her palms. "Now," she said desperately, opening her eyes to gaze up at him. "Right now!"

He drew a shuddering breath, then his arms dropped away from her and he sat back on his heels. "Okay." The skin was pulled taut over his cheekbones. There was a heavy sensuality curving his lips, and his nostrils were flaring slightly. Helooked hungry… Oh, did she look like that, too? He smiled with an obvious effort. "I think the point's been made, anyway. We want each other." His breath released in an explosive rush. "How we want each other!"

"Yes." She raised a trembling hand to brush back a lock of hair from her eyes. "But it doesn't change anything. I'm not about to mistake lust for love. And I'm not about to tumble happily into your bed just because I have a yen for you. I have an idea you'd use that to your advantage."

"Smart lady. I'd do just that." His eyes were twinkling. "But I'd make sure that our advantages were so closely entwined that you wouldn't realize who was using whom."

A wave of heat suddenly rushed over her as she had a sudden mental image of that "entwining." She jumped to her feet. "I think I'd better go to my room. It's time we resumed our roles of prisoner and jailer."

For a fleeting moment she thought she saw a shadow of pain in Clancy's face. It was gone the next instant. She must have been mistaken; Donahue was far too iron tough to allow himself that emotion. "All right. If it makes you feel safer."

There was a hint of desperation in her laugh. "There's something a little macabre about feeling safer as a helpless prisoner."

"You're not the helpless one," Clancy said quietly. "I am. I've never been so damn vulnerable in my entire life."

Her smile faded. He was doing it to her again. Pain, sadness, a yearning to comfort, and the sexual riptide that embroiled them in a whirlpool. "Idon't want you to feel helpless," she said with a fierceness that shocked even herself. "I don't want you to feel anything at all for me."

He stood looking at her without answering.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I won't let you make me feel guilty about something over which I have no control. You're not going to complicate my life. I like it fine just the way it is."

"Do you? Somehow I received the impression that you could use a little help in straightening out one or two aspects." He shrugged. "At any rate, you're going to get it whether you like it or not."

"Clancy, I won't have you marching in and taking me over. Your men might be intimidated enough to put up with that bull, but I won't."

"We'll see. Now you'd better go to your room and rest. I've put you through something of an emotional marathon, haven't I? Just go to bed and sleep on it. Here's the way I think we should handle it. First courtship, then sex, and finally marriage." He grinned. "If you want to rearrange that order, I'm open for suggestions. I definitely can be had."

The inarticulate sound she made was charged with both frustration and exasperation. She turned on her heel and strode toward the door.

"Lisa."

She stopped as she reached for the doorknob.

"We both know we're going to end up in bed together. In another couple of minutes we'd have been making love on that carpet."

Her hand tightened on the knob.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'll try to let you get accustomed to me before we-" He broke off and then continued with rough awkwardness, "Oh,hell, I mean I'll try to be your friend before I become your lover."

She opened the door. "You're not going to be either one. You're just my jailer, Clancy." The door closed firmly behind her.

Clancy uttered a brief but explicit curse. Lord, he certainly had a way with words. It was a wonder she hadn't reacted more strongly to his clumsiness. He had wanted to tell her that he'd be gentle, charming, and considerate. The way it had come out, it had sounded as if he were doing her a favor, by not throwing her in bed and jumping her bones. He had thought he'd learned a little diplomacy working for Alex, but evidently it had vanished completely the moment he'd first seen Lisa. All his confidence had disappeared, and he'd felt like a big clumsy oaf of an Irishman with his first woman.

He strode to the cellarette and poured himself a stiff drink. It would probably knock him on his backside as tired as he was, but that might not be a bad thing. At least he would forget what a colossal ass he had made of himself. He drank the brandy down in three swallows and started to reach for the bottle again, then stopped. No, he didn't want to get plastered tonight. Tomorrow he would try to repair the damage his clumsiness had wrought, and he didn't need a hangover to cloud his senses.

Courtship. It was an old-fashioned concept, but one that was very appealing to him. A woman like Lisa deserved not only courtship, but the most careful gentleness and cherishing. Despite her strength and spirit, she gave the impression ofbeing infinitely fragile and fine drawn. When she wasn't smiling there was a somberness about her that filled him with a fierce protectiveness. Pain. There was so much pain behind that tranquil facade. Sometimes he could almost feel it beneath the rigid control she exerted. God, he wanted to share that pain. He wanted to share everything she felt, everything she was.

He turned away from the cellarette and moved toward the door. It was going to be an uphill battle all the way to gain her trust as well as her love. He had better try to get some sleep in order to be ready to begin that struggle. Perhaps he'd take her out on the yacht tomorrow. It would get them away from the intimacy of the villa and might put her at ease. He could try it, anyway. At this point, he'd try damn near anything that had even a chance of success.