"It's better than behaving like a jealous child."
"What?"
"This one all started because I gave out a lousy autograph."
"Oh, you know, Morrow, you really do overestimate your charms. I just don't want to be here."
He touched her face with his palm. "Don't worry, sweetie. There's nothing to be afraid of out here. You won't need to sleep with me. You can have the cabin all to yourself."
"I_"
Her rejoinder froze on her lips because--despite his bitter denunciation--he was slipping his shirt over his head. Still staring at her in a cold fury, he kicked off his shoes, then started to slide out of his jeans.
"What--what are you doing?" Alexi gasped out, pained.
"Oh, don't get excited," he tossed back irritably. Naked except for his briefs, he turned from her, bronzed and supple and so pleasantly muscled. He opened a drawer, pulled out a pair of worn denim cutoffs and climbed into them, smiling at her sudden speechlessness. "Eat your heart out, Ms. Jordan," he told her. And then he was gone, slamming the slatted door in his wake.
Alexi, numb, stared after him for several seconds. A moment later, she heard the rev of a motor and felt movement.
The cabin was lined with little windows. Alexi bolted to the left to look out and saw that the dock was fast slipping away from them.
"Why, that...SOB!" she muttered. They were passing the channel markers to the right and left and heading for the open sea. She was off with him for the duration--with or without her agreement.
She threw a pillow across the room in a sudden spate of raw fury. He couldn't do this. He really couldn't--she had said no. But he was doing it anyway. He deserved to be boiled in oil. Someone needed to tell him quickly that this was the modern world. That he couldn't do things like this.
It wouldn't matter, she decided grudgingly. Rex would do what he wanted to do anyway.
After a moment, Alexi realized that the hum of the motor had stopped. She could hear footsteps above her.
And she could hear Rex swearing.
She smiled after a moment, realizing that he had turned off the motor to catch the wind with the sails. And he was having a few problems. She kicked off her shoes and lay back on the bunk, smiling. He'd planned on her giving him a hand with the sails, she realized. And now, of course, he was presuming that she wouldn't move a muscle on his behalf.
"Right on, Mr. Morrow," she murmured.
But then her smile faded, because she was remembering how cute he had looked, stripping out of his jeans to don his cutoffs--then indignantly denying her suppositions about him. Maybe "cute" wasn't the right word. Not for Rex. He was too deadly dark, too striking, too mature, too dynamic.
No... at that moment, 'cute'' had been exactly the right word.
Maybe she had been acting like a schoolgirl, and, at the end, maybe she had balked and refused the trip because of pure and simple jealousy. No--there was definitely nothing pure and simple about it. Painful and complex. She didn't know where she stood with him. And she was afraid to make any attempt to find out.
Something dropped with a bang. She could clearly hear Rex muttering out a few choice swear words.
Alexi sat up and smiled slowly and wistfully. They were far from shore; they were together, and alone with the elements. Maybe she wouldn't exactly offer a white flag, but...
Alexi hopped off the bed and hurried through the door. The boat pitched to the right, and she had to grab the wall to keep from falling. "I hope I don't get seasick," she muttered to herself. She steadied herself and hurried down the hallway, past the head, past the neat-as-a-pin little dining room and living room and on through the galley to the short flight of ladder steps that led to the topside deck.
"Watch it!" Rex snapped, annoyed, as her head appeared.
Standing on the top step of the little ladder, she ducked as the boom of the mainsail went sweeping past her. “Grab the damn thing. Help out here!" Rex called to her.
He was at the tiller, leaning left, trying to control the wayward sail at the same time.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Trim the sail."
"What?"
"The sail!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
He paused. The wind ripped around them, pulling his hair from his forehead, then casting it back down again. "Come on, Alexi--"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I've never been out on a sailboat in my life." "You were born a rich kid!"
"And I play tennis and golf, and I've even been on a polo field or two, but I've never been on a sailboat!"
Rex stared at her for a long moment. "Damn!" he murmured. Then he ordered curtly, "Come over here." She shook her head. "I don't know how to steer, either." "Just keep both your hands on her and don't move!" he bellowed. "Alexi--"
There was something so dangerous about the way he growled her name that she decided to comply. She slid next to him on the hollowed-out seat and set her hands on the long tiller. "Don't move it!" he warned her.
He jumped up, leaving her to watch as he nimbly maneuvered around the boat. Barefoot, in cutoffs, he seemed every inch the bronzed seaman. He quickly brought the sail under control. Red-white-and-black canvas filled with wind. Alexi had to admit that it was beautiful. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and stared out at the horizon. It seemed endless. If she looked to her right, though, she could see the coast, not so very far away.
Rex jumped down beside her. He slipped his brown hands over hers. "Thank you," he said curtly.
"Aye, aye, sir!" she said mockingly. She stood, glad she'd left her sandals below so that she could present a facsimile of coordination when she climbed forward, holding on to the mainmast, to look out at the day. With her fingers tightly clenched around the mast, she closed her eyes and inhaled and decided that the air was wonderful. The wind, alive and brisk, felt so good against her face. If only she weren't at such odds with the captain at the moment.
She decided that for the time being, no action was her best action. She went back below, and for almost an hour she immersed herself in Eugenia's diary. She was amazed to discover that Eugenia's plight could actually make her forget her own.
But she hadn't really forgotten. She set the book down pensively. She would finish it later, maybe that night. Rex hadn't tried to talk to her. Alexi realized ruefully that she was more concerned with her own life than Eugenia's.
Alexi went back topside. She pretended to ignore Rex and sat on the fiberglass decking and leaned her head against the mast. The sun beat down upon her while the breeze, salty and fresh, swept around her. Talk to me, Rex, she thought. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth.
She must have dozed there, for when she opened her eyes again, the sails were down and the boat was still except for a slight rocking motion. Twisting around, she could see that the anchor had been thrown and that they were just about twenty or thirty feet off a little tree-shrouded island.
Rex was sitting at the bow, a can of beer in his hand, wearing mirrored sunglasses, his skin and hair wet from an apparent dive into the sea.
Alexi stood and stretched and hopped down to the scooped-out tiller area and then down to the ladder. She was sure he heard her, but he didn't turn. She went on into the galley and opened the pint-sized refrigerator to find a can of beer. She smiled, popped the top and crawled up the ladder again.
Perching just a few feet behind Rex, she watched his back. He turned around, arching a brow to her, but she couldn't begin to read his thoughts in the reflections of herself mirrored in his sunglasses.
She smiled sweetly and raised her beer can to him. "Cheers."
"Cheers." Solemnly he lifted his own. He looked out to sea again, then stood and took a long swallow of the beer. Alexi set her can down and rose, too, slowly coming up behind him. She pressed her lips against the flesh at his nape, then followed along his spine... slowly. She slipped her arms around his waist and grazed her teeth against his shoulders. He tasted
of salt and sun and everything wonderfully male.
"I thought you were angry," he said gruffly. "I am. Furious." She got up on tiptoe to catch his ear-lobe between her teeth. "Alexi--"
"You had no right to drag me out here. None at all." "I had every right! You don't use your common sense. You're a little fool. You need protection now, and I'm it." "I am not a fool!" She nipped his shoulder lightly, then laved the spot with her tongue. "Alexi--"
"Will you please shut up?"
"Alexi--" He tried to turn and take her into his arms. Alexi pushed away from him, smiling.
She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, then neatly shimmied out of her shorts. "Want to go skinny-dipping?" she asked him, casually slipping from her bra and panties. She offered him one sweet smile, then posed for a fraction of a second and dived into the sea.
She swam with long, clean strokes toward the island, then paused, panting slightly and treading water as she looked back toward the Tatiana. Rex was nowhere in sight.
She gasped, nearly slipping beneath the surface, when she felt a tug upon her foot. Then he was with her, sliding up from beneath the surface, his body--all of it--rubbing against hers. Next to the chill of the sea, he was vibrant warmth, his arms coming around her, his legs twining with hers, his desire hot and potent and arousingly full against her thighs. She saw his eyes then for a moment, dark and glittering with the reflections of the sun. Then she saw them no more. His mouth came to hers, sealing them together in a deep, erotic kiss that sent them sinking far below, into the depths. So wonderfully hot...his tongue raked her mouth with that fire while his fingers moved over her in the exotic world of the sea. She would die... in seconds she would smother. But his touch in the watery world was already a taste of heaven.
Rex gave a powerful kick, sending them both shooting back toward the surface, still entwined. As they broke the surface, Alexi cast her head back, gasping for breath and laughing. She had barely inhaled when his lips were there again, against hers. He alternately rimmed her lips with his tongues, then whispered things to her. She and Rex did not sink, for he held her tight against him, treading water. She swallowed, weak and dizzied, as he moved his hands in concord with the warning of his whispers, teasing her breasts, working along her lower abdomen, stroking her thighs, taunting her implicitly.
"Oh..." she whispered.
"Alexi."
She leaned her head against him, closing her eyes, unable to reason against the sensations. She would sink again. Sink forever in the swirling realm of bliss where she floundered now.
"We've got to get back to the boat."
"Yes."
"Alexi."
"Yes."
"Now," he laughed, "or I won't have the strength left to do us justice."
"Oh!" Lost in the sensations of his loving, she realized that he had been doing all this while keeping them both afloat. "Oh!" she repeated, slightly embarrassed. She kicked away from him, hard, and began to swim. He caught her at the rope ladder by the motor at the back of the Tatiana. He raised her to the deck, then curled his leg around the ladder himself for balance. Alexi tried to rise. He stopped her, caught her foot and stroked the arch while he kissed her ankle.
"Rex!"
"What?" Tenderly he moved his mouth up along her calf.
"The sun is out and shining. We're in broad daylight. There's nothing to shield us--"
"And there isn't another boat around for miles," he assured her. Her kneecap received his ministrations next.
She thought that she had died. Where he did not touch her, the breeze moved erotically over her wet body. And there, in pagan splendor beneath the captivating rays of the sun, he made very thorough love to her. He treated the length of each leg with the same exotic care as he did the juncture between them, with incredible, exotic savoir faire--so sweetly that she was nearly numbed, consumed again by tiny explosions of delight. She could scarcely move...but then agility came to her and she reached for him, eager--desperate--to love him as he had loved her.
He came up beside her; they stood, damp and sleek, their fingers entwined. And she pulled him close to her and kissed him, consuming his lips again and again, savoring just that touch to the fullest, like a fine delicacy. She brushed her breasts against his chest as she tiptoed up to him, then slid against him, tasting the salt on his shoulder, all that lingered on his chest, falling to her knees and returning each subtle nuance. She moved on to his feet, his ankles...then up the length of his legs to the pulse of him. He whispered frantically--urges, cries. She obeyed them all and gloried sweetly in her power, in the absolute intimacy. She had never loved like this; she knew that she never would again.
They sank together upon the deck at last in an inferno of mutual desires and hungers, with a need deeper than any words they could ever whisper. To Alexi the earth seemed to tremble, to shake, to explode in a blinding brilliance. The sun was the brilliance, she knew, riding high above her, very real in the sky. But it seemed to live inside her, too, a life-giving warmth, given to her...by him.
Rex turned to her at last, stroking her breast, then her cheek, a curious twist to his lips.
"Am I supposed to apologize now for dragging you out here against your will?"
"An apology would be nice."
"All right!" he said, pressing her down on the deck. "I'm sorry I dragged you. Now you can apologize."
"I beg your pardon? I was the abused party. But not only did I take incarceration in stride, I went way beyond the call of duty."
"That you did," Rex admitted with a broad smile. Then his smiled faded and he sat up, wrapping his arms around his legs.
"Rex--"
"Why did you say that to me, Alexi!"
"What?" she asked, at a loss.
"That bit about sleeping with me because you were afraid." He twisted around to stare at her, harsh and accusing.
"You knew it wasn't true!" she cried. Please, please, she thought. Don't ruin this. This is ideal. This is the type of day that one remembers for a lifetime.
He shook his head. "No, I didn't," he said lightly. "Tell me what is and isn't true, Alexi."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
He touched her lower lip with the tip of his thumb, studying her face. "Tell me what you've felt--what you've wanted."
"I have told you," she gasped out, herself turning. She didn't want him to see her eyes. To read any of the secrets within them. Love made one so vulnerable. She wished she were dressed.
She shivered. "Rex, do you have robes aboard this boat? It's getting so chilly--"
He pulled her into the curve of his arm. "I'll keep you warm," he promised her.
"I told you," she murmured, her eyes downcast, "that you were very special."
"The Easter Bunny is special," he told her.
“I have been with you every time because I wanted desperately to be with you. Is that what you want?"
"No." He lifted her chin to force her eyes to his, holding her close against his chest. "I want more, Alexi."
Her heart seemed to thunder and stop, then race again and soar. Her lips were dry, and she moistened them with her tongue, "I hear that you're the one with a girl in every port."
"A gross exaggeration. And reasonable." He smiled ruefully. Smiled at her, deep into her soul, and she instinctively stroked his face, musing again about how she loved it. Dark and macabre... To think that she had once thought he must be that way, when he smiled at her now so openly, so ruefully, so tenderly.
"I've been scared. I've been running. And I'm still very, very scared."
"Of me?" she whispered.
He nodded. "Alexi?"
"Yes?"
“Do you have to go back? Do you have to do that commercial or whatever it is?"
"Er, no."
He hesitated. He gave her a crooked smile, dark lashes covering his eyes. He released her and stood, hands on hips, beautifully naked, staring out to the sea.
"That wasn't the right question," h
e said at last. "Do you want to go back?"
She had thought that she was safe; his back was to her. But he spun around swiftly, and she felt that she was seared through by the probing intensity of his eyes, by the demand within them. She felt herself blush--all of her, from head to toe--and she felt painfully, terrifyingly bare and vulnerable.
"I don't know."
It wasn't the right answer, she knew. Or she had hesitated too long. She saw the disappointment that darkened his eyes before he turned away. "Of course you want to go back," he muttered.
"Rex!" She jumped to her feet, coming to his back as she had earlier, pressing against him and groaning softly. "Rex! I'm frightened, too."
He remained tense. "You should be frightened. I keep telling you that."
She shook her head vehemently. "I don't mean that. I'm not talking about whatever is going on at the house." "Then exactly what are you talking about?" "You. Me." Alexi groped for an answer. "Rex, I'm afraid of you."
"Afraid of me!" The narrowing of his eyes, the glint within him, warned her that he had misunderstood.
"No, no--not that you would ever hurt me. Not that way. Let's face it. We've both been burned. In different ways, perhaps. I ran; you put up high walls around you and learned to play rough."
"I don't know--"
"Yes, you do," Alexi said softly, lowering her eyes. "I overheard you talking to Emily that morning, remember? You like the chase, Rex."
He made an impatient sound. "Alexi, dammit. So this whole thing was over the girl back in the restaurant--"
She shook her head furiously. "No! All right, I did feel a twinge of jealousy--''
"That was childish! I had to watch the pizza delivery boy practically trip over his tongue when he was near you!"
The way he said it, she had to laugh, her eyes meeting his. But then her laughter faded, as did the wry smile that had touched his lips. "Rex! Don't you see? It isn't like me to be like that. I enjoy you, I enjoy your success. I just..." Her voice trailed off.
He came closer and lifted her chin. "You just what?" His eyes probed hers deeply, searching. He was so close again. She wanted to lay her head against his chest and forget everything. He didn't intend to let her. "Alexi...?"
Strangers In Paradise Page 18