Blue Velvet

Five

The water had felt cold at first but now it was like warm satin flowing over her. She could see Julio's gleaming dark hair a few yards ahead and the shore seemed miles away. She felt a shiver of apprehension run through her. Would they be able to make it?

She bit her lip and struck out more determinedly. She mustn't even think there was a possibility of their not reaching the shore. She'd discovered a long time ago that doubts could be your worst enemy when you were striving to reach a goal. She blocked out everything but the rhythmic movement of her arms and legs that were cleaving swiftly through the water.

It was an eternity later when she staggered ashore and sank down beside Julio. His head was buried in his knees and he was gasping desperately for breath. She was in scarcely better shape as she stretched out on the sand.

"For Pete's sake, it's still broad daylight and you're taking a sunbath in full view of the ship."

She looked up dazedly to see Beau striding out of the waves like Poseidon. His cutoff jeans were clinging to his slim hips and strong muscular thighs and his hair was a shining bronze helmet in the sunlight. "What are you doing here?" she asked dazedly. He wasn't even breathing very hard, she thought with a touch of resentment.

"Trying to keep the two of you from being sighted by that launch," Beau said, reaching out a hand to pull her to her feet. "Come on, Julio, let's get to that cluster of trees before they decide to send out a shore party. Daniel's trying to distract them, but it would only take a glance for them to spot us."

"Right," Julio gasped, and staggered to his feet to follow them the short distance to the grove of palm trees.

Beau's arm around her waist was strong and secure as he half led, half carried her to the shadowy shelter of the trees and she unconsciously leaned against that strength. She'd be all right in a minute, she assured herself. It wouldn't hurt to let him be the protector, the strong one for a while. She sank down and leaned against the rough bole of a palm tree and closed her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

She opened her eyes. "You shouldn't have followed us, Beau," she said wearily.

"So I was just supposed to sail away and let you take your chances?" Beau shook his head and for an instant anger flickered in his eyes. "You forgot to mention what would happen if it was the police and not Despard who captured you."

"It wouldn't have changed anything. I would still have had to come anyway," Kate said. "I had to get the Cessna."

"Without a passport the danger was increased a hundredfold." Beau dropped down across from her. "You knew that and you came anyway." She opened her lips to speak and he held up his hand. "Forget it, I've heard it all before. You owed a debt." His gaze darted to Julio sitting a few yards away. "I can see how Julio could be without a passport considering the manner of his exit from El Salvador, but why the hell don't you have one? Brenden said your mother was an American nightclub entertainer. "

"I was born in Rio. When my mother left she took my birth certificate with her. Without it, Jeffrey couldn't apply for a passport for me." She shrugged. "He wasn't concerned about it at the time. In his line of work he never entered a country through the usual channels anyway. It wasn't really necessary."

"Oh no, it wasn't really necessary," Beau repeated sarcastically. "It just kept you from going to school and getting an education that might have assured your future. It stripped you of any protection you might have had from your mother's country. It's kept you lingering on the fringes of life instead of being able to participate." His lips twisted. "Hardly worth mentioning."

"I got along all right," Kate said defensively. "It's not as ugly a picture as you're painting."

"You're absolutely incredible." Beau shook his head wonderingly. "You actually believe that?"

"Of course I do," Kate said, rubbing her forehead wearily. "My life hasn't been all that bad. I've been really lucky in a number of ways." She straightened briskly. "But none of that is important right now. We've got to get started if we want to get to my place before dark."

"Your place?" Beau asked, puzzled. "You mean Brenden s cottage that you mentioned?"

She shook her head. "That's on the outskirts of Mariba. I have my own place here on this end of the island. Sometimes it was a little awkward for Jeffrey to have me around."

"I just bet it was," he muttered darkly. "So he let you come out here in the middle of the wilds on your own?"

"I wanted it that way," she said simply. "Particularly when men like Despard made it a habit of dropping by at all hours of the day and night. It was nice to have a place of my own to run away to and just be by myself." Her eyes moved back to his. "Besides, it was very near the plane. We needed someone close by at all times to guard it."

"Oh yes, the plane," Beau drawled. "If you want to get the Cessna off the island tonight, we'd better get moving." He stood up and reached down a hand to pull her to her feet. "It's almost sunset."

She cast a glance at the fiery scarlet and delicate lavender that touched the clouds with beauty and the sea with mirrored paths of brilliance. "We still have forty minutes or so. That should give us enough time to get to my house."

He frowned. "What about the plane?"

She shook her head. "We can't leave the island now." Her blue eyes were troubled. "Not until we're sure Captain Seifert and the crew are going to be okay. You may be sure your company can get him out of this, but I can't leave until I know>. It's my fault they were captured in the first place."

"But I told you-"

'They're my responsibility," Kate said stubbornly. "I can't leave until I know they're safe."

There was a curious tenderness mixed with the exasperation in his eyes. "Now how did I know you'd feel like that?" He ruffled her damp curls. "All right, Kate, we'll do it your way. How do we obtain this reassurance you're so set upon?"

"I can get it." Julio spoke up. "I can go to Mariba tomorrow morning with Consuello when she takes in the day's catch of fish. It shouldn't be difficult to ask a few questions at the marketplace."

"Who's Consuello?"

"One of Julio's women," Kate supplied absently. "She lives in a fishing village just around the cove. Her father and brother are fishermen and so was her husband. She's a widow now."

"One of Julio's women?" Beau murmured. "Evidently a very advanced eighteen-year-old, Julio."

Julio grinned, his dark face shrewd. "And you were another, I'd bet. How many lovers did you have to your credit at the same age?"

"I was too much of a gentleman to count," Beau drawled. "And so should you be."

Julio shrugged. "Consuello is lonely. I merely fill a need." His eyes were suddenly twinkling. "Actually a variety of needs." He stood up. "The more I think about it, the more I believe it's my solemn duty to look up Consuello and persuade her to take me to Mariba," he said expansively. "Don't worry, Kate. I'll get on it right away."

"Or on her?" Beau suggested, his lips twitching.

Julio winked. "At any rate I'll be back by tomorrow evening at the latest with news of the captain."

"That would probably be the safest move." Kate bit her lip. "Despard's men don't know you and Consuello would be a good cover. Just be careful, Julio."

"Yes, by all means," Beau said. "Or Kate will probably be storming the local bastille to get you out."

"I'll be careful," Julio promised, touching her cheek with a gentle finger. "You, too, pequena." He turned to Beau with gruff sternness. "Watch over her." Then he was walking swiftly toward the headland using the trees as a cover.

Kate's throat felt suddenly tight and aching as she watched him swagger jauntily out of sight.

"He's so young," she murmured. "What if something happens to him?"

"You told me yourself that he was older than his years," Beau said gently. "He'll be fine, Kate." He took her hand in his, the firm vital clasp giving comfort and strength and infinite reassurance. "And if not, I'll help you storm that bastille myself."

Her smile was a little watery. "Promise?"

He nodded. "Promise. Now what will it take to get you to lead me to this house of yours?" He made a face. "I hope it has bathing facilities. I need to wash this salt water off me. I feet as if I'm going to dry up and blow away any minute."

"Oh yes, it has bathing facilities," Kate said happily, her hand unconsciously tightening on his. Such a warm strong hand, it felt so wonderfully protective and affectionate. She started off through the palm grove into the half-light of the rain forest beyond. "I'll take you there right away."

"A tree house!" Beau said blankly, his gaze taking in the upper branches of the rain tree they were standing beneath. "You've got to be kidding."

Kate shook her head. "It's really a very practical idea," she said, her eyes wide and earnest. "The branches and foliage offer a certain amount of shelter from the sun and the rain and it's very private." She was dragging a ladder from behind a cluster of nearby bushes and he moved automatically to help her set it against the tree. "Julio and I built it. It took us about four months, but it was worth all that time."

"I can tell," he said gently. Even in the twilight dimness of the rain forest he could see the glowing eagerness in her face and it filled him with a poignant tenderness. Child-woman, vulnerability and strength. "I can't wait to look inside."

"It's not very fancy." Kate was climbing the ladder swiftly and her voice drifted down to him as he started after her. "It wasn't all that easy to furnish it. We had to use a pulley except for the little pieces we could carry." She reached the wooden platform and opened the rough wooden door with a little flourish. "Mi casa, sucasa."

"Thank you," Beau said gravely as he preceded her into the little house.

She followed him quickly. "Perhaps you'd better let me go first. It's pretty dark in here and I know my way around." She was fumbling at the natural rattan nightstand. Suddenly a match flickered and he could see that she was lighting an old-fashioned oil lamp. She turned to face him and her eyes widened in surprise. In the cutoff jeans, bare-chested and barefooted, he was a strange wild figure in her familiar little room. Wild and virile and overpoweringly male. "It's a little close in here," she said breathlessly. "I'd better open the shutters."

"I'll do it." He was at the large square window beside the door unfastening the tan woven hemp shutters and throwing them wide. "The whole place smells of flowers." He turned and suddenly grinned. "No wonder, you have enough flora in here to fill a florist shop."

"I love flowers," she said simply. "And they grow wild in the rain forest, so I can gather fresh ones every day." She gazed around in blissful satisfaction. "They make everything look so lovely."

The simple furnishings of the room definitely needed that embellishment, she thought. There was no bed, merely a single mattress covered with blue denim on the rough-hewn floor. Other than that, there were two rattan captain's chests against two walls and the small rattan nightstand. But there were blossoms everywhere. Gorgeous coral orchids with creamy centers tumbling out of rattan holders fixed to the unfinished walls. Delicate maiden fern surrounded deep purple violets in a polished black bowl on one of the chests. A tall vase in one corner was filled to overflowing with greenery and strange white blossoms with golden markings. But his eyes were on her, not the furnishings and she was suddenly conscious of that queer breathlessness again. "I guess it must seem primitive to you," she said uncertainly.

He shook his head slowly. "No, it's very beautiful and very, very special," he said quietly. "I can see how you'd be proud of it." His eyes met hers across the room and it was as if she were being wrapped in a velvet intimacy so complete it filled the whole world, "In a way it's like you. Different and lovely and totally special." He looked away and his eyes fell on a colorful object on the rattan chest across the room. "What's that?"

She was glad he'd been distracted. She didn't know if she could have broken the intimate moment herself. She followed his gaze with her own and then smiled eagerly. "That's my music box." She ran across the room and knelt by the chest. Her hands lifted the scarlet-and-ivory carousel with loving care and wound the key at the bottom. "I discovered it in a pawn shop in Port of Spain. Isn't it lovely? A carousel with not only horses but unicorns and centaurs. It was in pretty bad shape when I bought it, but I repainted it and Julio found a man to fix the mechanism." She set the music box back on the chest and stayed there, her eyes misty with dreams as she watched the carousel turn slowly on its pedestal. "I've always loved the tune it plays. I tried to find out what it was, but the man in the shop didn't know and neither did Julio and Jeffrey."

"It's 'Lara's Theme' from Dr. Zhivago," Beau said, his voice husky.

"Dr. Zhivago?"

"A beautiful movie taken from a book by Pasternak. I have a copy of the book in my cabin on the Searcher. I'll give it to you once we're back on board."

"Thank you. I'd like that." Her gaze was still fixed dreamily on the carousel. "You know, I've always wanted to ride a carousel. I was at a carnival in a little village in Nicaragua once, but it didn't have a merry-go-round "I'll buy you one."

"What?" She turned to look at him in bewilderment.

"I'll buy you the best damn carousel in the whole world," he said thickly. "Hell, I'll buy you an entire amusement park." He wanted to give her everything she'd never had. The experience, the beauty, the knowledge. He needed to give them to her.

She laughed uncertainly. "You're joking," She rose to her feet. "For a moment I thought you were serious."

He opened his lips to speak but quickly closed them again. "We'll talk about it later," he said. "Now where can I get rid of this combination of salt and sweat that's coating me? You promised me a bath." He looked around with a whimsical smile. "Somehow I don't think your very special house has a bathroom."

"There's a spring-fed pool several yards north of here," she said with a grin. She picked up the carousel and set it carefully on the floor before opening the chest. "It's a little cold, but very clear." "That's where you sunbathe?" There was something in the smoky darkness of his eyes that caused a frisson of heat to tingle through her. "Yes, that's the place," she said, quickly reaching into the chest to pull out soap, a large folded terry towel, and shampoo. "It won't be very warm there now. It's almost dark." "You only have one towel."

Her eyes flew to meet his and what she saw there made the heat in her loins turn molten.

"Well need at least two," he said with slow deliberation. "You're all salty too." His voice dropped to velvet softness. "But don't worry, I'll wash every grain of it off you personally." He smiled intimately. "Very personally."

She drew a deep breath. "You want me to go with you?"

"I insist upon it," he murmured. "I always did have a lousy sense of direction. I might get lost in the forest and never be heard from again."

"Then I guess I'd better come along," she said, reaching for a few more towels and a white cotton caftan. "I may need to redeem that promise you made to help me storm the bastille." Her voice was as light as his, and didn't reflect the fact that her heart was pounding so hard she felt as if she'd been running.

She didn't dare keep up the badinage as they made their way down the ladder and along the path to the pool. She wasn't experienced enough to maintain that casual sophistication and was sure that at any moment she'd betray how nervous and uncertain she felt. Nervous and something else. Something exciting and moving and as beautifully primitive as the rain forest surrounding them.

It was almost pitch-dark as they reached the bank of the pool and the water was only discernible from the bank by the occasional glitter of moonlight on its mirror surface.

Kate dropped her towels and the caftan on the bank. "It's shallow enough to stand upright around the edges. It only deepens as you go toward the middle."

"Right." Beau had already striped off his meager clothes and was jumping into the water. "Damn!" he exploded. "Where does that spring originate, the South Pole?"

She burst out laughing. "I told you it was cold."

"Cold, not frigid. Throw me the soap, will you?"

She tossed it to him and then pulled the T-shirt over her head. There was no use being shy. Beau had seen everything there was to see last night on the Searcher. Besides, it was so dark here Beau was hardly more than a bronze blur though only a few feet away. It was reasonable to assume she'd be equally indiscernible.

She inhaled sharply as she jumped into the water and she heard Beau's chuckle. "Definitely the South Pole, eh?"

"Definitely," she gasped. She poured a little shampoo in her hand and began rubbing it into her hair. The curls were coarse and wiry with salt and she sudsed and rinsed it twice before she was satisfied it was clean. "I've finished with the shampoo. Would you like to use it?"

"I made do with the soap," he said carelessly. His voice was suddenly much closer and she looked up to see him only a few feet away. "I didn't want to wait. I wanted to get through in a hurry so I could have my treat."

"Your treat?" She moistened her lips nervously.

"Bathing Kate, bonny Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom."

"Shakespeare," she identified, a trifle breathlessly.

"Right," he drawled, "but we're not going to discuss literature tonight. That I promise you, sweet Kate. I only display that degree of restraint every century or so."

"I think most of the salt is washed off now," she offered faintly.

"But we have to be sure, don't we? I promised you every grain of salt." He was very close now and she could see the white flash of his teeth in his darkly shadowed face. "And I'll think we'll start here."

The cold wet bar was against her throat and she gave an involuntary shiver. "Cold?" he murmured.

"Let's see if we can fix that." He rubbed the soap briskly between his hands. "I'm going to like this much better anyway. And you will too, Kate. I guarantee that you'll like it a hell of a lot better."

He took the bottle of shampoo from her and tossed it and the soap on the bank. Then his hands were on her throat rubbing the lather from his hands into her skin with slow teasing skill. She stood perfectly still, almost forgetting to breathe as his hands moved to her bare shoulders rising out of the water. His hands were cold from the water and hard with calluses. Playboys shouldn't have calluses, she thought inconsequentially, but then Beau wasn't a stereotype. He was a law unto himself. His hands weren't really cold either. She could feel the vital heat beneath the surface coolness and it was arousing an answering heat everywhere he touched.

"Give me your left arm."

She raised her arm from the water and his hands moved over it from shoulder to wrist with slow easy strokes that should have been soothing. They weren't. By the time he'd finished the other arm, her heart was beating wildly and her flesh was so exquisitely sensitive that every brush of his hands was actually painful. It was like something from an erotic fantasy to be standing here in this icy water in almost total darkness while a naked shadowy stranger ran his hands over her body in this intimately arousing fashion. Yet Beau wasn't really a stranger. They'd been through so much together that in some ways she felt she knew him far better than she did Jeffrey or Julio.

And now the piece de resistance," Beau drawled. His hands closed upon her breasts beneath the water. She cried out and involuntarily surged toward him.

"I've been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you in that bar," he said thickly- He was squeezing her gently and his thumbs were exploring the pink rims that encircled the hard crests of her nipples. "And I think you've been wanting it, too, haven't you, Kate?"

She hadn't realized it, but she must have. The response was so immediate, the filling of an aching void so evident. "The water has washed all the soap off your hands," she said vaguely through the haze of heat surrounding her. It seemed impossible now that she'd even noticed the coldness of the water.

"It doesn't matter, we'll never miss it," Beau assured her. "They say friction does just as good a job as soap."

"Who says?" she asked breathlessly, not really caring. The nail of his thumb was toying playfully with the swollen tip of her breast.

"I forget," Beau said absently, moving closer, "but I'm anxious to test the theory. Part your legs, love."

She obeyed without thinking. "Why do-" She broke off as his knee suddenly was inserted between her thighs and he was lifting her, one hand moving from her breast to the curve of her buttocks to pull her forward so she was straddling his strong muscular thigh with shocking intimacy. He pressed her back against the bank, resting his other knee against it for support.

"There, that's better." Beau's voice held the same breathlessness she was feeling. "Almost comfortable. " His hand at her bottom was moving her back and forth on his leg. "A very comfortable ride, eh, sugar?"

Comfortable? There was a distinctly mischievous note in that Southern drawl that made her aware he knew just how ridiculous that adjective was. That friction he'd mentioned was burning her with every motion and she felt she was learning by Braille the physical substance and textures of him. The hard bone beneath the resilient muscles, the slightly rough film of hair that was prickling against that most sensitive part of her. Her swollen breasts swung heavy and ripe against the sleek smoothness of his chest with every other movement and she could hear his breathing become harsher and more labored with every touch.

His hand still cupping her breast was squeezing and relaxing in rhythm with the molten friction he was stirring in her lower body. His index finger encircling the budding tip was both inquisitive and arousing. "You have lovely little puckers all around this pretty thing," he said raggedly. "Is that because of the cold or what I'm doing to you?"

"I don't know," she gasped. She didn't know anything that wasn't connected with the liquid aching need that was racking her entire body.

"Then perhaps we'd better find out." The hand that was on her buttocks suddenly moved around and slid swiftly between her and his thigh. "I want you to be sure. It's a matter of personal pride." His fingers started moving, caressing, delving, teasing with a devilish skill.

"Beau!" She arched forward against him, her hands clutching desperately at his shoulders. She uttered a low sound that was half guttural groan and half whimper as she felt two of those diabolically knowledgeable fingers enter, stroke, burn, rotate.

She was so close she could feel the thunder of his heart against her ear and his voice was shaking a little. "It's me, isn't it, Kate? Say it!"

"It's you," she said, hardly knowing what she was saying. She would have said anything he wanted her to at that moment.

"So tight," he muttered. "Oh, God, Kate, I can't wait. I want to be there."

"What?" He'd added another finger with some difficulty and she was only conscious of the sensation of fullness that pervaded her.

"I want to ride, too, Kate." He laughed a little shakily. "With your permission, milady."

She found herself trying to push down harder. "Yes, oh yes." She closed her eyes. "Whatever you like."

"What a fantastically generous invitation. I just may take you up on it. It's going to be a long night." He pinched her nipple gently with his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of electricity shooting through her. "But unfortunately I don't want to start here. Maybe tomorrow I'll be ready for aquatics but tonight I want to feel all your silk and heat against me." His hand left her breast and wandered down to her waist. Then his fingers plunged forcefully upward and she gave a low gasp of pleasure. "Remember that," he said hoarsely. "Remember the feel of me. You're mine there now and I'll be back." His hand reluctantly left her and also moved to her waist. He lifted her off his thigh and up onto the bank with easy strength.

She sat there dazed and bewildered. The warm humid air felt almost chilly on her wet nude body, but it wasn't the astringent shock it should have been. For Beau was suddenly beside her on the bank picking up a towel and drying her with careful thoroughness, his hands caressing and squeezing her occasionally through the soft material.

"Bend over. I want to do your hair."

He was thorough with that also and when he was done he combed his fingers through the damp curls before fluffing them lightly. "It's almost dry already," he commented.

"It's so short it dries very fast," she said mundanely. However, there was nothing mundane about the way she was feeling only inches away from him. She could smell the scent of soap and musk and feel the heat of his body reaching out to her.

He handed her the simple white cotton caftan.

"You'd better put this on." He picked up another towel and started to dry himself.

She slipped the caftan over her head and pulled it down over her body. Even the loose folds of material were a teasing provocation against her flesh that Beau had sensitized so expertly. She could barely stand the touch of it against the swelling fullness of her breasts. "You haven't anything to put on."

"The only thing I want against me tonight is you," he said as he gathered the towels, shampoo, and soap. "Grab our clothes, will you? I want to get back to your place with the speed of light."

So did she and her movements were just as swift as his. It was only a matter of moments before they were climbing the ladder to the tree house. Beau dropped the bundle he was carrying on the wooden platform but stopped her as she would have opened the door. "Wait," he said, drawing a deep shaky breath, "I want to hold you a moment before we go inside." He took the clothes out of her arms and dropped them carelessly on top of the pile of towels. "Just hold you. I don't think I'm going to be able to do that once we get inside. I'm hurting too much."

He took her into his arms and held her with loving gentleness. She could feel the hard urgency of his need against her, but there was only affection and tenderness in the strong clasp of his arms and the brush of his lips at her temple. He rocked her and for a moment she forgot about desire as she was drowned in that warm glowing gentleness. Beau. Oh, dear, sweet, wild Beau. She felt her heart swell with emotion as her arms went around him to hug him fiercely to her.

"Hey!" he chuckled. "Take it easy. Your enthusiasm is much appreciated but very arousing." He reached behind her to swing open the door. "We'll continue this later." He pushed her gently into the room. "Much later."

"All right." She watched him dreamily as he followed her into the room. In the glow of the oil lamp he was all sleek muscular power and dominant aroused male. Very aroused.

"Take off the gown, Kate." His eyes were dark and smoky but the golden glints were leaping.

She pulled the caftan slowly over her head but when she dropped it to the floor she realized he was no longer looking at her but across the room. There was a frown on his face and she watched him with puzzled eyes as he crossed the room to the chest against the wall.

He picked up the carousel music box she'd set on the floor when she was riffling through the rattan chest for towels and placed it with great care on the exact center of the chest. "You should be more careful," he said gruffly. "One of us might have kicked it or knocked it over. Treasures have to be taken care of."

She felt a warm glow start somewhere near her heart. “Do they?"

He nodded, his eyes grave. "Yes."

"I suppose you should know." She laughed shakily. "A rich man like you must have quite a few of them."

"Not really. I guess you could say I have a good many valuables but that's something else again. You've got to care for something to make it a treasure." He was coming toward her with that smooth, lithe coordination. "Perhaps I didn't deserve to have a treasure before. Maybe I would have been too careless and irresponsible to care for it properly." He stopped before her and his lopsided smile was boyishly endearing. "I wouldn't be that careless now, Kate. Will you be my treasure if I promise to guard and cherish you very carefully?"

The words were so simply eloquent, his expression so beautiful that she couldn't speak for an instant because of the lump in her throat. His treasure for an eternity or merely for tonight? Somehow at this moment it didn't make any difference. One night with Beau would be worth any pain she would have to suffer later.

"If that's what you want me to be," she said breathlessly.

"That's what I want." His hand reached up to cup the curve of her cheek with infinite gentleness. "You won't regret it, Kate." A dark frown suddenly clouded his face. "This doesn't have anything to do with that blasted bargain we made, does it? You know that's down the drain. You really want me, right?"

"I really want you,'' she said, a tender smile tugging at her lips. How could he doubt it when he could see the response he'd so easily ignited in her? He seemed to ignite all kinds of responses with no effort at all-and not only the physical. Tenderness, laughter, respect, admiration, love. Love? The word had come so easily to mind that it frightened her a little. She must be very careful not to think of that. It was far too dangerous in a relationship that might prove as ephemeral as theirs.

"Then that's what you're going to get," he drawled, the lightness back in his expression. "Every bit of me that you can take." He reached out and lightly cupped her breast in his palm. "Now."

Then his arm was about her waist and he was leading her to the denim-covered mattress across the room. His fingers splayed out and rubbed her hip in a caress that was more affectionate than sensual. "I can't get enough of touching you. That incredibly silky skin with all that warm aliveness beneath it. I'm constantly wanting to reach out to play or rub against you like a cat with a satin pillow." His hands on her shoulders were pushing her to her knees on the mattress before kneeling to face her. His eyes were glazed as he stared down at her naked breasts with an intentness that caused a shiver of anticipation. "I want to do that now but I'm afraid the time for play is over."

"The light?" she asked. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so shy if she couldn't see the smoldering sensuality on his face.

He shook his head. "I like you bathed in lamplight. It gleams and shimmers on you like liquid gold." He slowly bent his head until his lips were only a breath away from one taut eager nipple. That warm breath kissed her even before his lips touched her. "Now let's see if I can make that pretty breast pucker again for me."

She inhaled sharply as his mouth closed around her as he began to alternately nibble and suckle at the nipple that had been waiting eagerly for his attention. He was very gentle at first but she could feel the change in him as the moments passed. There was a tension and restrained savagery in the way he pushed her on her back on the mattress. Both hands were encircling her breast, now causing it to swell into prominence. His mouth seemed to be trying to envelop the entire mound at times while his tongue flicked wildly over every portion of it. His nips became sharper and his face was flushed and heavy above her. "I can't get enough of you. I want to eat you alive." He suckled strongly and she arched up to him with a little cry. He was over her now, his lips still working frantically at her breast. He began rubbing against her like the cat he'd compared himself to and it was as erotic as his lips at her breast. Yet there was nothing of the sleek feline about Beau in that moment. He was all hard bone and supple muscles and aroused male.

She could feel that arousal brush against her as he moved and she unconsciously opened her thighs to welcome him. She wanted to welcome all of him, touch, smell, sight. She wanted him to surround her in every way possible.

"You want me?" he asked, his eyes blazing almost pure gold. His hand traveled down to rest possessively between her thighs, not moving or caressing. However, just the warm heaviness of it against that most private part of her so vulnerably open to him, filled her with unbearable excitement. His voice was harsh with restraint. "Here? Now? You're ready for me?"

"I want you." It was a gasp. "Now!"

He closed his eyes and breathed a shuddering sigh of relief. "Thank heaven, I didn't know how long I could keep up this foreplay. I'm nearly wild." He was parting her thighs with frantic eagerness, his fingers now moving, caressing, exploring. "You're so pretty here." He lowered his head to her belly, gently nipping the soft rounded flesh. "And you are ready for me." He laughed huskily. "I wanted to make sure. You're so beautifully tight I was afraid I'd hurt you if you weren't as wild for me as I am for you."

He didn't have to worry about that, she thought hazily. She was aching frantically with a feverish desire for completion.

He was between her thighs, his hard warmth nudging against her and he suddenly smiled down at her with loving sweetness. "I'll be careful," he whispered. "There's no way I'd ever want to hurt you. I told you I know how to care for treasures now."

Poignant tenderness and passion were in his voice and his eyes… They were so beautiful she felt tears rise in her own. Everything was beautiful, his golden eyes, the sensual curve of his lips, the brilliant coral orchids on the wall beyond his shoulder, but most of all the feel of him as he became part of her.

"Relax." There was a touch of impatience in his voice. "I told you I wouldn't hurt you. Don't you trust me?"

Of course she trusted him, but there was something the matter. There was a hint of troubled hurt in his face and she, couldn't bear it. Nothing must spoil the beauty of what was happening to both of them, she thought dreamily. Not when she could take care of the problem so easily.

She surged upward with determined forceful-ness and there was a sharp piercing pain that was immediately drowned in the equally sharp delight of being full of him. She smiled happily up at him. "Better?"

"Better," he echoed blankly, his face stunned. He flexed spasmodically and a great shudder racked him. He closed his eyes. "Oh, Lord, yes, that's better."

"Good." Her hands caressed his hips lovingly. "I want you to be happy, Beau."

His lids lifted and he looked down at her with a curious expression of torment. "I know you do," he said hoarsely. "Everyone has to be happy even if it means the giving has to go on forever. Because we all keep taking, don't we?" His lips twisted bitterly. "Even me. For once in my life I wanted to give, but I'm taking too." One hand reached up to gently stroke her cheek. "And the damnable part of it is that I can't stop now."

She was bewildered. She'd wanted to help him, but he looked so sad now. "Beau, should I-"

"Shhh." His fingers were on her lips. "Hush, everything's all right. I'm going to take, but I'll find a way of giving too. Maybe it will all even out." He was moving with a slow stroking thrust, letting her get used to him. It wasn't easy for him to maintain that control. She was conscious of the leashed urgency in him struggling to break the bonds of restraint. She could feel the knotted muscles of his hips beneath her palms. The stroking was hotly tantalizing but still she wanted more. She wanted that primitive animal passion he'd shown her before. She needed it.

"Beau." Her murmur was feverish as her nails dug unconsciously into the flesh of his hips. She surged against him urgently. "Please, Beau."

She could see the conflict on his face and then he gave a helpless groan. "Kate. Oh, damn, Kate." And thrust forward forcefully, taking her breath, burning, pressing, thrusting until she was almost mindless with pleasure.

Treasure. A carousel playing a haunting melody, Beau's golden eyes, his hand in hers walking through the rain forest, a mocking Southern drawl with a note of underlying tenderness, courage, honesty, passion, this beautiful, throbbing rhythm. So many treasures. He was giving them all to her and when he gave the final radiant gift that made rapture seem commonplace, it was no more precious than the other treasures he'd heaped upon her.

Her head was cradled in the hollow of his shoulder and she could feel the hard thud of his heart beneath her ear. Its cadence was gradually lessening, as was her own. His hand automatically tangled in her curls and began to thread through them with lazy contentment. "So silky," he murmured. "Did I tell you how much I loved those soft little ringlets?"

She nodded. "You're certainly a very tactile person, Beau," she charged teasingly, then suddenly chuckled. "Not that I'd be so ungrateful as to complain in the present set of circumstances."

She could feel him stiffen against her and his hand paused in her hair. "No, you wouldn't complain no matter what I did to you," he said quietly. "You wouldn't care to tell me how you happen to be a virgin? I received the distinct impression from the lady I was with in Alvarez's bar that you were every bit as experienced as she."

"Did you?" she asked, blissfully uncaring. "I was in there quite often prying Jeffrey away from the whiskey bottle. She probably misunderstood." Her head lifted suddenly as she gazed at him in troubled uncertainty. "Does it bother you?"

"You're damn right it bothers me. I'm not accustomed to deflowering virgins. Why the devil didn't you tell me?" His lips twisted. "Lord, I was even telling you what a meager price I was exacting for my services."

"It was cheap," she said quietly. "Getting Jeffrey away from Castellano was important to me. In comparison the other didn't matter at all."

"It was important enough to keep you a virgin until now."

"The men I've come across seem to look upon women as something to be used." Her tone became fierce. "I won't be used! I have worth."

"Yes, you have worth." He touched her cheek with gossamer gentleness. "It can't have been very easy for you considering the life you've led."

She shrugged. "I can take care of myself. It's been easier lately with Julio around."

"And before Julio was around?"

"I just told anyone who bothered me that I had VD," she said simply. "Jeffrey said it would work and most of the time it did. Men seem to be very frightened when you mention that."

He chuckled. "It's a wonder you ever got away with it if you looked at them the way you're looking at me." Her eyes were as clear and solemn as a little girl's. "I don't think you've ever learned to lie very well."

"You're right. I hate it." She suddenly shivered. "But it's much easier when you're frightened."

He felt a sudden fierce anger at the thought of Kate alone and afraid. It was so intense it caught him off guard. He couldn't remember ever before experiencing that sense of outrage. He had to draw a deep breath and consciously force his tense muscles to relax. "They must have been very faint- hearted types," he said gruffly. "I guarantee I wouldn't have been so easy to get rid of even if I'd believed you."

Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't?"

He grasped her by the shoulders and tumbled her back into his arms. "Nope. Not with a very special lady like you." He brushed a butterfly kiss on the tip of her nose. "First, I'd have sent you to the best doctor available to start your cure. Then I'd have whisked you away and spent your entire convalescent period showing you how many wonderful ways we could pleasure each other with no danger at all to either of us."

"What ways?" Her eyes were bright with curiosity-

"I'll demonstrate later. It loses something in the telling."

"Well, I don't see how it could have been any better than what we've just had." She raised her head to gaze at him mistily. "It was so beautiful."

"Was it, Kate?" His voice was husky. She was so dear, like a happy little girl. "I'm glad it was like that for you."

"Oh, it was." Her blue eyes were full of dreams. "You made it that way, Beau. I wish I could give you something just as valuable." She brushed her lips lovingly over the pulse beat in the hollow of his throat. "I'd like to give you rare spices, precious stones, and one hundred twenty talents of gold."

"One hundred twenty talents?" Beau asked, puzzled.

She nodded. "That's what the Queen of Sheba brought as gifts to Solomon."

The creases in the corners of his eyes deepened as he laughed up at her. "I should have known." He shook his head ruefully. "That brain of yours is filled with the most amazing trivia." He kissed her quickly to banish the troubled frown that was beginning to form. "Fascinating trivia from a fascinating lady. And for your information, my services are not to be bought with one hundred twenty talents of gold. They're considered absolutely priceless in some circles. So you may keep your gifts, Kate."

"Really?" Her eyes were suddenly dancing with mischief. "I bet I know one gift you'll accept." She pulled away from him and jumped to her feet." "You, being such a very tactile gentleman." Ignoring his growl of protest, she picked up the white caftan and pulled it over her head. She ran to the far corner of the room and began turning a crank high up on the wall. "This took an entire week for Julio and me to set up, but I think it was worth it. It's rigged with a pulley outside."

She heard an exclamation of surprise behind her and looked up at the ceiling that was rolling neatly back to reveal leafy branches and moonlit sky. "I wanted to lie under the stars." She glanced over her shoulder and made a face. "Unfortunately, I can't do this very often. Birds seem to find my flowers too attractive. I woke up one morning and found a parrot trying to build a nest in my orchids." The roof was completely rolled back now and she released the crank and strolled back to him. "I thought it was very inconsiderate of her since she had millions of other orchids in the forest to choose from." She dropped to her knees beside him. "I don't see why she had to…" She trailed off. "Why are you looking at me so strangely?"

"Was I?" he asked absently. The lamplight was touching her sun-streaked curls with an aureole of radiance. The same radiance that was in her eyes. He pulled her down into his arms cradling her and pressing her head once more into the hollow of his shoulder. "I didn't realize I was doing it. Perhaps I'm not used to women who live in tree houses with roofs that roll back so they can see the stars."

"Well, then they've missed something really special," she said staunchly, nestling closer. "Look at that night sky. It seems close enough so you can reach out and touch it." She chuckled. "That should appeal to you. Midnight blue velvet for you to stroke. Do you like your gift, Beau?"

"Oh yes, I like my gift." The soft warm breeze stirred the branches above them and the scent of rich earth, wild flowers, and wet grass were all around them now. The sky was midnight blue velvet and the stars were as clear and beautiful as Kate's eyes. His hand began to stroke her curls once again as he fought against the most unmanly lump that persisted in forming in his throat. "My lovely, silken Kate and a blue velvet sky. How could I help but like it?"