Always

Four

The sun was marvelously warm on her face, the breeze a soft caress scented delicately with salt and the musk-mint scent she had come to associate with Clancy. Something light fell across her knees, and Lisa reluctantly opened her eyes to see the blue cotton shirt Clancy had been wearing now draped across her outstretched legs.

"Keep covered," he said tersely. "You're too fair to be exposed to a strong sun for long periods without protection. You should have worn slacks instead of those shorts. Don't you ever go to the beach?"

"When I get the chance. New York in the winter doesn't offer many opportunities for sunbathing." He certainly didn't need to worry about burning, she thought as her eyes traveled idly over him. His massive shoulders and broad, corded chest were as deeply bronzed as his face and rippled with powerin the afternoon sunlight. The triangle of dark hair, lightly peppered with gray, matted his chest, then narrowed to a thin line before disappearing into the low-slung waistband of his jeans. Lisa felt a sudden tingling in her palms as she wondered what it would feel like to put her hands on that springy cloud. Hurriedly she shut her eyes, closing him out. "Is it very hot in Sedikhan?"

"Yes, it's mostly desert country. The hills can be very pleasant in the summer, though." She could sense that his gaze was riveted on her, and she shifted uneasily in the canvas chair. There was a short silence, and then Clancy said, "Thank you for coming today. I was afraid you'd harricade yourself in your room after I made such a pompous ass of myself yesterday."

"Who would refuse a jaunt around the island on a yacht like this?" she asked lightly. "Particularly anyone as sun-deprived as I am. Besides, being a poor benighted prisoner, I didn't have much choice. You could have just thrown me over your shoulder and carried me on board willy-nilly." "I wouldn't have done that." Was there a thread of hurt in his voice? It seemed impossible that she had the power to hurt a man as granite hard as Donahue. Yet he was one of the most boldly honest men she had ever met and so secure in his own manhood that he was unafraid to reveal vulnerability. She had found that out yesterday, to her intense disturbance.

Today he had been very careful to guard against making her uneasy in any way. He had been friendly, charming, and almost impersonal. The hours they'd spent on the yacht had been as goldenas the sun pouring down on her right now. She had a sudden impulse to soothe the hurt she had so carelessly inflicted. "I was joking. I know you wouldn't have forced me."

"Good." There was another long, peaceful silence. "May I ask you a question?"

She stiffened warily. "Perhaps."

"Why did you marry him?"

"I'm sure you've seen pictures of Martin. He's a very handsome man… quite beautiful, in fact."

"Why, dammit? You're not a woman who looks only on the surface."

"I was at that time in my life. I'm afraid I was regrettably naive for a woman of twenty-six. I was an only child and my parents had sheltered me far too much from the realities of life. I grew up thinking I could drift along in that same serene way for the rest of my days, and that everything would be handed to me on the traditional silver platter. Even my singing career was more of a pastime than a vocation."

"Baldwin," Clancy prodded.

"I told you I had the princess mentality. I was twenty-six years old and Prince Charming hadn't bothered to gallop into my life. So I started looking for him." Her lips curved in a bittersweet smile. "Martin appeared to fit the bill admirably. Nordic good looks, charisma, well educated, and he wanted to keep the princess in her ivory tower. It was obviously a marriage made in heaven." "You didn't know about his illegal activities?" "A princess can't be bothered to look out the window of her tower except on very special occasions. Didn't you know that? I thought he was in the import-export business."

"He was, in a manner of speaking," Clancy said dryly.

"I didn't find out Martin was a criminal until just after we separated. I had been trying to hold our marriage together for the previous two years, but had finally given it up as a lost cause. My parents had been killed in a plane crash, and I suddenly discovered that there were such things as pain and responsibility in the world. Even a princess has to grow up sometime. I wanted to become a person as well as a wife and mother. Martin didn't understand that and tried to bolt the doors of the tower firmly in place. He refused to accept the fact that I'd finally outgrown my cloistered life-style. He still does, for that matter. He's talked himself into believing that if I come back to him, everything will be the way it was." Her voice lowered to a mere whisper. "Nothing can be the same again. Not ever. Not without-" She broke off and drew a deep, shaky breath. Her eyes opened, but she kept them fixed firmly on the horizon so that he couldn't see their glittering brightness. "You can see why I object to you imprisoning me, Clancy. I've just managed to break out of one jail."

"I wouldn't be like Baldwin. I might want to keep you as my own personal harem girl, but I'm intelligent enough not to try to do it." He paused, then added wistfully, "1 hope."

She hadn't mentioned the child. Clancy studied her face, noting the fine-drawn tension of her lips and the air of bleak desolation that surrounded her. He wanted to take her in his arms and holdher, comfort her, but her control was so fragile he was afraid it would shatter. And he couldn't risk that: if she exposed her vulnerability now, she might resent him for it later. His hands clenched on the arms of the deck chair, and he forced them to relax one finger at a time. "I think it's time I told the captain to turn around and go back to the dock. The tip of your nose is definitely pink. You'd better come with me to the bridge. You need to get under cover as soon as possible."

She sighed regretfully as she picked up the shirt draped protectively over her legs and handed it to him. "You're probably right, but I hate to move. Oh, how I love to bask."

"And I love to watch you bask," he drawled. "It could become my favorite outdoor sport. As for indoor sports…" He suddenly frowned. "Your legs are pink, too. The shirt didn't do much to protect you."

"The damage was probably done by the time you so gallantly threw it over me."

His eyes were still fixed moodily on her legs. "You don't take care of yourself. You're too thin."

"Chicken legs," she agreed lightly.

"No."

There was a note of thickness in the negative that caused her gaze to fly to his face. His eyes were now hotly intent and his lips held a hint of sensuality. Her heart leapt to her throat and she felt a flash of heat run through her that had nothing to do with the sun.

"No, they're lovely." One big hand reached out and slowly touched her upper leg. She felt a jolt of electricity that made her a little dizzy. "Beautifullysymmetrical and well muscled." His index finger moved caressingly to her inner thigh. "Silky. Good Lord, you're so soft and silky."

She should move away from him. She should brush his hand aside with a light remark. Why couldn't she move? Why did she just sit here with that hot, languid heat unfolding within her and the tension building in the center of her womanhood? She felt as if she were mesmerized as she watched his slowly moving finger trace lazy patterns on her flesh.

"Part your legs a little, acushla."

She obeyed without thinking. She didn't seem to be able to think, only to feel. His hands were so big and strong, darkly tanned against her fairness. There was nothing graceful or artistic about the finger that was sending shafts of sensation through her. His hand was as blunt and strong as the rest of the man. The hand of a doer, not a dreamer.

"I like this," he said as he stroked the ultra sensitive skin with gossamer gentleness. She gasped as his finger slid beneath the edge of her shorts to the apex of her thighs. His finger halted as he heard the tiny sound, and his eyes lifted to meet hers. "I'm rushing you, aren't I?"

He drew a deep, shuddering breath and withdrew his hand, the tips of his fingers lingering reluctantly before he forced them to leave her flesh. "Sorry. I meant to be a perfect gentleman today. I should have known I wouldn't be able to pull it off. I want you too much." There was a flicker of frustration in his eyes as he glanced at her legs, still spread in voluptuous abandon. "But you don'thave to be so damn willing, either. How do you expect me to keep my hands off you when you do whatever I ask?"

Her eyes widened in shock and she closed her legs hurriedly.

"Oh, damn, I did it again," he said with supreme self-disgust, and stood up. "For heaven's sake, don't look so stricken. It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I'm one big ache and I'm striking out like the bastard I am. Come on. Let's get you out of the sun." He reached down and pulled her to her feet.

Lisa cast him a bewildered glance as she fell into step beside him. She had been moved from pain to sensuality to guilt in the space of minutes. Now, incredibly, she was feeling sympathy for the man who had inspired all of those emotions. "It was my fault, too," she said huskily. "I guess I was caught off guard. I don't usually behave so-" She broke off. She mustn't tell him that she had never had such an explosive physical response to any other man. She couldn't afford to encourage him in any way. "Let's forget it, shall we? Blame it on this gorgeous tropical sun."

"I don't want to forget it. I fully intend to remember it." He was staring straight ahead, his expression set in lines of grim determination. "Because someday you're not going to have to be caught off guard. Someday you're going to welcome me with joy, Lisa. You're going to be lying naked on the deck in the sunlight and you're going to hold out your arms to me."

She smiled with an effort. "You saw it in your crystal ball, I suppose?"

"No, in my imagination. I'm very good at makingmy visions come true. It's all a matter of holding a goal firmly in mind and not giving up."

He shrugged into his shirt but didn't bother to button it. She wished that he had. The sight of those powerful muscles and that cloud of crisp hair was still having a disturbing effect on her pulse rate.

"And I have no intention of giving up," he said, low and firmly.

"Neither do I. So we're at an impasse." She shot him a glance that glinted with a hint of humor. "Besides, I'm not enough of an exhibitionist to enjoy the kind of scenario you've set up for me. This yacht has quite a large crew, doesn't it?"

"Only twelve. But I wasn't thinking of this ship. It's just one of the launches owned by Sedikhan Petroleum. I have a twenty-footer moored at Marasef harbor that can be run by a two-man crew. I thought you'd realize I wouldn't allow any lascivious peepshows. I'm much too possessive to put you on display for the crew's delectation."

She looked away, searching desperately for a safe, impersonal subject. Fat chance. There didn't seem to be such a thing as impersonality between the two of them. "One of the launches? Does Sedikhan put many luxury yachts like this at your disposal?"

He nodded. "We keep our own launches and helicopters on most of our permanent possessions. Otherwise, we usually lease what we need. Naturally I have access to anything Sedikhan Petroleum controls."

"Naturally," she echoed. Clancy's statement had been perfectly matter-of-fact. Obviously he hadwielded an almost limitless power for so long that it had become commonplace to him. "How long have you been head of security for Sedikhan?"

"Practically all my adult life." He grimaced. "Though I started out as a cross between a tutor and bodyguard for Alex Ben Raschid and his cousin, Lance, when they were teenagers. Old Karim, the reigning head at that time, wanted a man of my particular qualifications."

"Qualifications?"

"I'd batted around the world a bit and been everything from a roughneck on an oil rig in Texas to a mai tai fighter in Malaya. I wasn't much more than a kid myself, but I could handle myself in practically any situation going. In an oil-rich country like Sedikhan, where border skirmishes are a fact of life, that was a blue-chip recommendation."

"I can see how it would be. "It was difficult to visualize that wild, tough boy taking on a responsibility that would make a mature man flinch. No wonder he carried his authority so effortlessly. "So Sedikhan is your home now?"

"Yes, as much as any place can be. My job hasn't permitted me to put down any firm roots. Sedikhan is an economically strategic country, and that means there's no way we could remain isolated. In the past I've traveled at least six months of the year." He paused. "That doesn't mean I have to continue to do so. I have some good men in key spots around the world. I can learn to delegate."

She looked out at the water. "You'd probably miss it terribly after all these years. I don't think you should be in a hurry to change your life-style."

"I would miss it, but there are people I love in Sedikhan. It would be nice to have time to spend with them again."

"Alex?"

"Alex and Sabrina, Lance and Honey, David and Billie, Karim…" He smiled faintly. "And so many others. Really wonderful people, Lisa. I want you to meet and know all of them."

There was such warmth and affection radiating from his face that suddenly she wanted that, too. She shook her head sadly. "I'm sure they're as wonderful as you say they are, but I doubt if we will ever meet. Sedikhan is a long way from New York City."

"Not that far. I could order the jet and we'd be there in six hours. Shall I do it?"

She laughed. "Just like that?"

"Yes." He stopped her by placing a.hand on her arm. His eyes were warmly intent. "I want to take you home with me. I guess I'm a little old-fashioned. I want you to meet my people. Will you come?"

She shook her head, her expression troubled. "I can't do that. It wouldn't work, Clancy."

"It will work." His tone was so rough it startled her. He was silent for a moment, as if trying to get that violence under control. "Look, would it help if I told you I'm a very rich man? Alex has always been very generous with the people he cares about. It's never meant anything to me before, but now I like the idea of being able to give you things. To hell with the ivory tower. I can give you a palace, if that's what you want."

"You'd buy me?"

"I'd buy you in any way I could. Money, personal freedom, fame." He smiled a little recklessly. "Doyou want to be the next Streisand? I'll get that for you."

She shook her head. "I've outgrown wanting everything served on a silver platter, remember?"

He tightened his hold on her arm. "There must be something in life you want enough to strike a bargain for. I just have to find out what that is, Lisa."

Her eyes widened. "You'd want me that way?"

"No," he said. "I want you as crazily in love with me as I am with you, but I'll take what I can get."

"I think you'd better let me go," she said softly. "I'm very much afraid I'm beginning to like you, Clancy Donahue, but I'll never love you."

He let his breath out in a rush. "Well, that's progress, anyway. At least you don't want to draw and quarter me anymore." He grinned. "Why should I give up now? I never expected it to be easy. Just give me a few days and you'll see that even gruff security men have their charming side,"

That was exactly what she was afraid of. She was already finding it difficult to separate her physical and emotional responses where Clancy was concerned. She raised a brow. "You're planning to dazzle me?"

His smile faded. "No, just love you, acushla," he said quietly. "And try to make you love me."

She felt her throat tighten helplessly as she gazed up at him. How could you reply to a man who made statements like that? Particularly when he clearly meant every single word.

His fingers reached up to touch her cheekbone with a featherlike caress. "Never mind. You'll become accustomed to it in time. I am." His handdropped to her arm and he began to propel her toward the bridge enclosure only a few yards away. "Come on, let's get you back to the villa and out of the sun. We'll have to find something to do indoors for the next day or two. I think you're definitely going to have a sunburn." He grinned down at her with sudden mischief, his white teeth flashing in his dark face. "How are you at checkers?"

Clancy Donahue was a master at the game of checkers.

Lisa soon found out why that smile had been charged with elfin humor. The predicted sunburn had duly appeared by the time she'd showered after they had returned to the villa. Though not particularly painful, it was enough to keep her from wanting to expose herself unnecessarily for a time. In the next two days she found that Donahue was an expert not only at checkers and chess, but at poker and gin rummy as well. He played with a quiet concentration and a boyish zest that made it a pleasure to compete with him even when she lost-something that happened with depressing frequency.

At the end of the second evening of this cruel and unusual punishment, Lisa pushed back her chair and shook her head ruefully. "Skunked again. Where did you learn to play so damned well? I'm not at all sure you haven't lied to me, Clancy. You couldn't have had time to learn all these skills and have a career, too."

"Checkers I learned in a campaign in Southeast Asia when I was eighteen. Karim was a chessfanatic and always looking for someone to play. Philip El Kabbar hooked me on mah-jongg. Poker was always one-"

She held up her hand to stop him. "I'm sorry I asked. Is there any game in which you aren't expert?"

He tilted his head consideringly. "Monopoly, maybe. I've only played that once or twice with Sabrina's son. Do you want me to send to town for a set?"

"Are you kidding? That's a big business game, and you've played it for real in one form or another since you were a kid. We can't play Clue for the same reason." Smiling, she stood up. "I'll think about tic-tac-toe while I make coffee. At least there wouldn't be a winner."

He frowned in sudden concern. "Should I have let you win? I didn't think you'd want that."

She shook her head. "No, I can take it. Though perhaps in a little less massive doses." She turned toward the kitchen. "Next time I get a sunburn I'm going to read and improve my mind."

Clancy rose to his feet and trailed after her into the kitchen. "Next time I may be in a position to keep you amused in other ways. There is a game that has only one rule and everyone wins."

She glanced warily over her shoulder. "What game?"

"Pleasure," he said softly. "Wanna play?"

She looked away. Caught again. Clancy could go on for hours being the perfect companion, teasing, casual, almost avuncular. Then, when she least expected it, he would slip in a remark like that and suddenly she would feel a bolt of sexual awarenessthat was like a hand stroking her. She wished she hadn't thought of that simile. It reminded her of the times during the last two days when she'd sat across the card table and watched his hands as they shifted a chess piece or drummed lazily on the table as he waited for her to move. Those broad, capable hands that had moved on her thigh, burning her… Quickly she blocked the memory. "You'd probably stack the deck," she said as she crossed the room and opened the coffee cannister.

"Only if it would give you the edge." He sat down on the stool at the breakfast bar. "I don't think you'd mind my letting you win at that game."

Lisa's hand trembled as she measured the coffee into the coffee maker. Suddenly the sexual tension between them was vibrantly alive again. Most of the time she was conscious of it only as a subliminal force, until Clancy chose to strip off the gloves and bring it nakedly to the forefront. Strip. Naked. Damn, she had to keep away from words that brought images to mind. Clancy's broad naked chest feathered with soft springy hair. His hard stomach and powerful thighs.

"You're putting in too much coffee," Clancy said softly. "Unless you've decided you need an overload of caffeine to keep you awake tonight."

"No. I wasn't thinking, I guess." She moistened her lips. She had been thinking too much, blast it. "I don't really want it, anyway. Why don't we just turn in?"

"Okay." He stood up. "You seem a little nervous. Is there something wrong?"

"Jail fever. I need to get out of the house." She turned to face him. "I need to get away from Paradise Cay. Martin hasn't shown up. He's probably half a world away from here. Let me go, Clancy."

He shook his head. "It's just a question of time." He walked slowly toward her. "If you want to get out of the house, I'll take you to the straw market tomorrow afternoon. I hear it's something of a tourist trap, but it will be a change."

"With Galbraith and your other minions trailing along behind?"

"They won't get in the way. You won't even see them if they're doing their job properly."

"But I'll know that they're there." She poured the coffee back into the cannister. "You're sure I can't talk you into putting me on a plane to New York instead?"

He nodded. "I'm very sure. I've never been more sure of anything." He was standing next to her, close enough for her to feel the heat emanating from his body. "Has it been so bad for you the last few days? I thought you were enjoying yourself." His lips lifted in a lopsided smile. "I know I'm not most women's idea of the man with whom they'd like to be stranded on a desert island, but I thought you'd adjusted very well."

Did he really think he wasn't attractive to women? Probably. She had found him remarkably lacking in conceit. "No, it hasn't been bad," she said gently. In retrospect, the last few days had been stimulating, amusing, even challenging. Clancy was keenly intelligent, quick witted, with a marvelous sense of humor and a fine appreciation of the ridiculous. He had a zest for life that blended oddly with the cynicism that his life-style had bred. She'd found herself not only desiring him physically, but craving his company as well. That realization was probably what had triggered her sudden burst of desperation. He was coming too close, and she couldn't risk that. The less intimacy the better from now on. "You can't blame me for being a little restless under the circumstances. The straw market sounds fine."

"Have you been restless?" he asked softly. "So have I. Do you suppose it springs from the same cause?" His eyes were narrowed intently on her face. "If it does, I can suggest a better remedy than the straw market." His hands reached up to cradle her face. Warm, capable hands, the pads of his fingers slightly calloused and rough against the smoothness of her cheeks. Strong hands, yet they were a little unsteady as they touched her.

She excited him, and the knowledge increased her own arousal. She was trembling again. It seemed to be a permanent state when she was around Clancy. "Not a safe remedy."

"I'd keep you safe. You'll always be safe with me." His thumbs splayed out, rubbing gently at the corners of her mouth. "As safe as you want to be." His thumbs moved slowly to meet in the center of her lower lip. "Sometimes it can be fun to forget about safety. Haven't you found that?" He exerted the tiniest pressure and her lips parted. "I can feel the throbbing of your heart against my thumbs. Your lips are almost as sensitive as your breasts, aren't they?"

Lisa swallowed; her breasts lifted and fell with each shallow breath. The top button of his white shirt was undone and she could see a shadowy glimpse of the wiry pelt of hair on his chest. Shecouldn't seem to pull her eyes away. She wanted to touch him, comb her fingers through that crisp mat, explore the powerful, heavy muscles of his shoulders. His dark head was lowering slowly. "Take a chance, Lisa," he urged. "Give me your tongue."

He covered her lips with his mouth but exerted no pressure. Waiting. His lips were warm and hard, his breath clean and sweet, but she wanted more. She gave him what he wanted, and she felt him shudder against her. He took her into his mouth, sucking gently, lovingly. She felt his body harden as he pulled her into the hollow of his hips.

Her hands reached out blindly, fumbling with the huttons of his shirt. He went still. Then, without taking his mouth from hers, he brushed her hands aside and unbuttoned the shirt himself. He took her palms and placed them flat against his chest. She made a sound deep in her throat that was half moan, half purr of satisfaction. This was what she had wanted. Her palms tingled as the crispness of him pressed into their softness. She moved her hands slowly, tentatively, savoring the sensation, playing, tangling, tugging.

He was rock hard against her, and the muscles of his chest and belly were knotted with a tension that was almost unbearable. His breath came raggedly in harsh gasps and he was forced to lift his head. He shuddered. "I love your hands on me." His hands tangled in her hair. "But it's not enough. I want your mouth, too, love." He pulled her close so that her cheek was cushioned against the soft hair that had been her playground. The clean smell of soap and man surrounded her, andhis skin was warm beneath her lips. Her tongue touched, tasted.

He flinched as if she'd struck him, his fingers twisting in her hair. "Lisa…"He moved her lips to another place on his body. "Here, acushla." Then he shifted her again. "And here." He moved her head once more. "Lord, that's wonderful." Suddenly he crushed her mouth to his chest, holding her so tightly that she was breathless. Shudder after shudder ran through him. "Too wonderful. I'm going out of my mind. Let's go to bed!"

She couldn't seem to think. How had they come this far in such a short time? "Clancy…"

"I'll make you happy." His hands left her hair and slid down her back in a caressing movement that held yearning tenderness as well as hunger. "Let me try to give you what you need, what we both need. I love you, Lisa."

She felt a little shock run through her as the last words sank home. He did believe that he loved her and this wouldn't be just a pleasant night's romp for him. It would be a step toward the commitment he was trying to wrest from her. The commitment she had no intention of giving any man.

He went still as he felt the unconscious stiffening of her body against him. "Lisa?" He pushed her gently away from him, his hands cupping her shoulders. His gaze searched her face and his expression clouded at what he read there. "No?"

She bit her lower lip. "No," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't stop you right away. I'm not usually a tease, Clancy."

"I know that," he replied. His features were still drawn and hard with hunger. "My fault. I startedit. It's been a rough couple of days, and I got a little impatient." He laughed mirthlessly. "But I'm sure I'll be punished for that lack of virtue tonight. I'll probably lie in bed awake and aching all night."

"So will I," she whispered.

"Well, you can just lie there in the same torment that I'm going to go through. I'm not about to give you back those damn sleeping pills."

She shook her head wearily. "I don't want them. I only take them when-" She broke off and turned away. "Good night, Clancy. This situation isn't getting any easier for either one of us, is it? I think you may decide to let me go sooner than you think."

"Don't get your hopes up. I can take a fair amount of punishment. I was once captured by a band of revolutionaries who tortured me every day for three and a half weeks before Alex rescued me. It wasn't nearly as bad as what I'm going through right now, but it did condition me." He inclined his head in a half-mocking bow. "Good night, Lisa. I'll see you at breakfast in the morning."