Enthralled

by Ann Cristy

  "I thought you were a shark," Teel choked out, trying to control her breathing. She pushed at his shoulders, but her hands were shaking, and she had no strength.

  Chazz smiled devilishly down at her, his hair as sleek and black as licorice as he treaded water beside her. "I've been called that by several people, but I'm really quite harmless."

  "A likely story!" Teel retorted, still breathing hard.

  He threw back his head and laughed. "My ego will never be in danger of over-inflating from the compliments you throw me, Sister Terese Ellen."

  Teel's skin tingled with a sense of danger as she looked into his lion's eyes. She wanted to ask him why he had emphasized the word "Sister," but some instinct kept her quiet. "You don't have to worry about getting a big ego," she said. "You have one already. Now would you please release me. I'm a good swimmer and in no danger of drowning." "You may not be, but I am.." "What did you say?"

  “Nothing." He released her slowly. "How would you like to go snorkeling? Then you could really see the underwater life."

  For a moment, in her distraction, Teel forgot to tread water. She sank like a lead weight. Immediately two strong arms brought her to the surface. But even when she was treading water once again, his hands remained at her waist, exploring it restlessly and moving upward. Teel pushed hard against Chazz, sending him backward but splashing water into her own mouth at the same time. "I told you I can swim," she gulped, coughing. Irritated, she slapped water at him, hoping he too would get a mouthful.

  Chazz threw back his head, his dark hair glistening in the sunlight. "Playful?" he asked, "Good. I like to play games." He floated toward Teel, his teeth bared in a menacing grin. Years of training came to Teel's aid. Her body knifed through the water with a strong racing stroke. The surge of power surprised her, but she knew she couldn't keep up the fast pace. If only she could make the beach before she faltered.

  Victory seemed a distinct possibility when she felt a sudden tug around her calf. Chazz had caught her! She stroked even harder, trying to kick her leg free, but all to no avail. She turned to face him, breathless from the unaccustomed exertion. "You—said—we—were— going—snorkeling." She put one hand on his shoulder to ward him off as he pulled her closer, his laugh a muted growl.

  "And so we are." His grinning face came closer. "That was quite an exhibition, Sister. Do you coach swimming at this school of yours?"

  Hearing the mocking inflection in his voice, Teel frowned. His glittering golden eyes dared her to question him.

  She breast-stroked away from him. He swam ahead of her. She dove deep in the opposite direction—and surfaced inches from his bare chest. No matter which way she turned, he was there. She had no choice but to confront him.

  "Yes, you could say I teach swimming," she told him. "I help coach our children, who compete in the Special Olympics, not just in swimming but also in the broad jump and the fifty-yard dash. In the winter I coach them in cross-country skiing and snowshoeing." Teel touched bottom as she and Chazz entered shallower water. She felt his eyes on her as they emerged but refused to look at him.

  When she leaned down for her towel, he took it from her hand. Before she could protest, he was drying her off. He turned her to face him, his grin irritating her but taking her breath away just as the swimming had. "I can't allow you to catch cold," he said. "Darby would kill me."

  "Your concern is touching," she retorted sarcastically, trying to pull the towel from his hands. When he wouldn't release it, she glared up at him.

  "At least now you're looking at me," Chazz said, his eyes narrowing on her as they moved over her from ankle to eyebrow. "Your eyes are like green fire," he mused. His eyes turned to liquid gold, his neck and shoulders tightening with some hidden strain.

  Teel opened her mouth to make a willing retort and froze. Her eyes had a will of their own as they looked at his broad, muscled body. It didn't matter how many times she told herself she didn't like the kind of man Chazz Herman was. He still exerted a powerful hold on her. He was too tall. She didn't like looking up at men. She felt more comfortable if they were on eye level... or lower. She didn't try to analyze why Chazz had such an unsettling effect on her even when he wasn't in her company, but she knew her former peace of mind would not return until she had put him behind her for good. Why in heaven's name did he wear those silky briefs? They made his thighs look even more muscular than they were already. Teel turned her back on him on the pretext of drying her hair.

  "Shall we go?" The gentle question was whispered into her neck, making her stiffen.

  "Ah—yes."

  They crossed the beach in silence, the walk seeming even farther because of the shifting sand under Teel's feet.

  "I should have gotten the dune buggy for you," Chazz said, giving her a long look.

  "No. It feels good to do something as safe and sane as walking on a beach on a hot, sunny day." His arm went round her waist, an impersonal support. She watched many of the bikini-clad women stretched out on towels stare as Chazz walked past. They irritated Teel.

  "Darby tells me you're quite a mixture and not the purebred Irish girl he took you for." Chazz chuckled.

  "I'm not a girl at all, Mr. Herman," Teel replied. "I'm a twenty-seven-year-old woman with a very satisfying career."

  "Sorry, Sister, I didn't mean to tread on your toes. I was just making conversation."

  Teel shrugged. "I'm jumpy about my age, I guess. A few of the board members think I'm too young to handle the job adequately." She glanced at him. "I didn't mean to bark at you. I'm really very grateful for all you've done for me."

  "The pleasure has been all mine." His deep, smooth voice made her skin tingle.

  "Ah, you mentioned my background. Tell me about yours. What sort of name is Herman?"

  "My father was Jewish—German Jew on his father's side, Sephardic Jew on his mother's side. My mother was of English descent. She and my father met at school in the Bronx. Father sold musical instruments. My Mother taught piano. They were killed in a fire at the store when I was seven. I stayed with an aunt who was kind to me but very poor. I grew up a little on the wild side, determined to be rich so that my aunt could have a few of the finer things. When things began to go well, she allowed me to move her into a brownstone, but she won't move again. She would rather I get married and have children than provide her with a fur coat, car, or any of the other luxuries she considers unimportant."

  "She sounds nice." Teel smiled at Chazz and was surprised to see him suck in his breath.

  "Here we are." His voice was ragged. He went over to a large tent and brought out some equipment.

  "Do you think I could try scuba diving too?" Teel asked, staring at a man near them who was sorting through a pile of more sophisticated equipment.

  "No," Chazz exclaimed, glowering at her. "Scuba diving requires special training and lots of practice. You're not to attempt it until I've had the chance to teach you. Maybe in two or three weeks, when you're much stronger."

  "I won't be on the Deirdre that long," Teel pointed out, wary and uncertain in the face of his sudden anger.

  "No?" Chazz snorted. "We'll see."

  Teel was about to ask him what he meant by that remark when he scooped up a mask from the blanket and fitted it to her face. She gulped at the sudden lack of oxygen. But the ringing in her ears subsided as she realized that she was in no danger. She listened carefully as Chazz explained how to breathe and soon felt ready to enter the water, but Chazz restrained her, insisting that she repeat his instructions. She did as he told her, and at last he was satisfied. Then he motioned for her to sit on the blanket and proceeded to fit the fins to her feet.

  "I can do it myself," she protested.

  He smiled, slipping on his own fins with practiced ease, then waiting for her.

  "Oh." Teel sank down on the blanket several times before she was able to rise to her feet. She scowled at Chazz when he laughed.

  He seemed to have no trouble walking to the edge of the water. To T
eel it was like trudging through miles of desert. Several times she staggered and almost fell. She cursed Chazz for not telling her it would have been easier to carry the flippers to the shore before putting them on.

  In the water Teel followed Chazz's example by using a breast stroke. She was close behind him, and when he pointed downward, she nodded and dove with him, remembering to blow through the tube as he had shown her.

  The sparkling sea world awed her so much that at first she almost forgot to surface partway to clear her breathing tube. Then the motions became automatic. She delighted in the aquatic panorama spread below her. She lost all sense of time passing as she cruised through the sea grass and past crustacean life.

  When Chazz motioned that it was time to rest, she shook her head and turned away, but steel hands grabbed her waist, brooking no resistance.

  As they waded ashore, Teel yanked the mask from her face and glared at Chazz, whose hand still gripped her.

  "You've been ill. It isn't wise to exhaust yourself," he explained, his voice bland.

  "I'm not tired," Teel declared, but she swayed dangerously and immediately his hand tightened at her waist. She clutched his shoulders as he removed her flippers.

  "You're more tired than you know," he warned her. "That's the seduction of the water world. Haven't you heard of 'rapture of the deep,' the disorientation that deep divers suffer from the combination of water pressure, lack of oxygen, and, of course, the beauty of the ocean?

  You can lose your inhibitions, your wariness, and all your good sense. Even while snorkeling a mild effect of that same phenomenon can overtake you. You're particularly susceptible, having been recently ill." "I see," Teel answered, feeling chastened. "I didn't understand." She put her hands on Chazz's arm as he rose with both pairs of flippers in his hand. "Thank you for taking me," she added. "It was wonderful." She grinned. "And you're right, I do feel a little slow and sleepy."

  She was taken aback when he wrenched his arm free of her hold and strode toward the tent without answering. Stunned, she pressed her lips together to keep from shouting that he was a capricious barracuda and she couldn't stand people who blew hot and cold. Teel watched him drag the gear into the tent. Hurt and angry, she kicked at the white sand.

  "What are you doing here?"

  The terse question made Teel spin around. Two women stood in front of her shedding scuba gear. Realizing that the voice was Elise's, Teel assumed that the other woman must be Clare.

  "I was snorkeling," Teel explained, keeping her voice flat.

  Their unfriendly stares raked her coldly. "Oh, is that where Chazz disappeared to?" Clare said. "I don't recall ever meeting a nun with such a good figure, honey. Or do I call you, Sister?" The two bikini-clad women laughed, then turned to share the joke with several men behind them.

  Suddenly an arm snaked around Teel's waist. She stiffened under Chazz's tight fingers, knowing his touch and sensing his anger. When she looked up at him, she saw that his anger wasn't directed at her. Red streaks had appeared on his high cheekbones and his jaw was clenched as tight as a vise.” Darby is arranging for a plane to pick you up later this afternoon," he told the others. "I suggest you get back to the Deirdre and get your gear together."

  "But Chazz," Elise wailed, "we were going to gamble at the casino tonight. Did you forget? Besides, Clare and I wanted to shop for some clothes, and I wanted—" "If you don't make the afternoon plane," he interrupted, "you'll be stranded here. If you don't pack your things, Darby will fling them overboard. Good-bye."

  Teel felt almost sorry for the sulking women and the truculent men, but she couldn't help but be glad that she wouldn't have to see them again.

  When Chazz took her arm and led her up the beach, Elise called after them, "Fooling around with a nun is playing with fire, Chazz—even for you." The high- pitched voice had a nasty ring to it, but when the others laughed and Chazz turned toward them, a snarl on his face, they fell silent.

  Chazz and Teel traversed the beach in silence, but she had trouble controlling her breathing. Elise's rude words had injected a personal note that quivered between them like a live wire.

  "Would you like to swim again?" Chazz's voice was harsh.

  "No." Teel tried and failed to keep her voice steady. "I think I've had enough sun. I'd like to go back and lie down."

  "Good idea. I'll get Darby to bring the dinghy."

  "There's no need. I can swim to the yacht."

  "No!" Chazz roared.

  "Don't shout at me!" Teel burst out, her chin jutting up. "Then don't talk like a damn fool."

  Teel stamped her foot on the hot sand. "I was trying to save Darby the trouble."

  "Don't bother. That's his job."

  She opened and closed her mouth, struggling to think of something suitably scathing. "I'll be glad to leave this beach just to get away from you."

  Chazz turned his back on her, his neck red, his shoulders stiff. He strode over to the cabana, reached inside for a two-way radio and spoke into it in terse sentences.

  Chazz stayed with Teel, not speaking, until Darby came ashore, then he mumbled something incoherent and strode away up the beach.

  Teel was seething, angry with both herself and Chazz. She blinked back tears. She wasn't crying because he was a boor, she told herself, but because she was still a little weak from too much sun. When she was stronger, she was going to tip him over the side of the Deirdre with an anchor chain around his neck.

  Darby brought the still-full lunch basket back with them, shaking his head and muttering that the chef would be angry. He opened his mouth, studied Teel for a long moment and finally said nothing for the rest of the short trip to the Deirdre.

  Teel went straight to her cabin and threw herself facedown on the bed. She only meant to rest a minute, then rise and shower, but her heavy eyelids closed and sleep took her away.

  Teel's first thought as she struggled out of her deep sleep was that the yacht had hit rough weather. Her whole cabin seemed to be tilting in the storm. Then, fuzzily, she became aware that the rocking was only caused by Darby shaking her shoulder.

  "Come along, Sister. It's time to get dressed."

  "Dinner." Teel forced the word around the cotton wool in her mouth. "Hungry. Forgot lunch."

  "Forgot? Baloney. No doubt you'd been tiffing with himself and didn't eat 'cause you was miffed." Darby ignored her glare. "Now come along. It will soon be cocktail time.

  "Dinner." Teel licked her dry lips.

  "Argue with me, will ya?" Darby's half grin, half growl made his bushy eyebrows go up and down. "Up you get now," he badgered her before urging her into the bathroom. "I'll lay out your clothes," he called to her through the closed door. "Not to worry."

  I'm not worried, Teel thought, rubbing her hair with one of the exotic shampoos she had found in the stockpile of emollients on board the Deirdre. She wasn't worried about what to wear, but she was worried about how soon she could eat. If that bear of a man hadn't made her so mad, she would have eaten the lovely lunch that Rowan had fixed for her. She ground her teeth together at the thought of Chazz.

  She was going to yell over the noise of the shower to tell Darby to lay out jeans for her, then decided that he wouldn't hear her anyway.

  She padded out of the bathroom wrapped in a thick bath sheet that hung almost to her toes and stopped dead, her mouth falling open as she caught sight of the wisp of a dress that Darby had draped across the bed. Beside it were cobwebby undies and ultra-sheer stockings. Backless slippers in a sea-green color with medium-high heels lay at the foot of the bed.

  Teel looked around the room for her other clothes, or anything else she might wear to tell Darby to find something for her. But there was nothing but her towel. She balked at leaving her cabin wrapped in that, afraid she might run into the owner of the Deirdre. She had no wish to watch Chazz's lion's eyes laser over her, separating her bones from tendons, muscle and tissue, disassembling her and putting her back together again. And she didn't like the all-over tingle s
he felt at the mere thought of him.

  She shrugged and decided to put on the dress. What difference did it make what she wore as long as she could eat?

  It wasn't until she had slipped the sea green silk chiffon dress with the uneven hemline over her head that she noticed the jeweler's box on one side of the dresser. Curious, she opened it and gasped. Emeralds! Drop earrings of braided gold interspersed with emeralds and a matching thin necklace glinted up at her. The ring was a marquise-shaped emerald that fit perfectly.

  Teel ooohed over the cache, chuckling to herself as she thought of Darby taking these from Chazz's safe. He had often described the safe in Chazz's bedroom, where he kept the valuables. She hoped the gremlin like little man wouldn't get into trouble because he had tried to give Teel a chance to pretend to be a gem-laden lady.

  She knew she couldn't wear the jewels and maintain her pose as a nun, but she laughed out loud to think what her fellow schoolteachers would say. They had never seen their director in anything so exotic. Teel laughed to herself as well as she twirled in front of the mirror. A sense of freedom and abandon made her feel lightheaded. She had no choice but to wear the clothes even though the cut of the dress precluded wearing a bra and the combination of silky panties and dress plus very sheer stockings gave a sensuous, naked feeling to her skin. She was surprised to see that the contrast of the sophisticated dress with her unmadeup, sun warmed skin gave her a uniquely striking look.

  She gripped the green clutch bag and left the cabin, feeling like the Queen of the Deirdre, not just a temporary, unwanted passenger. As she traversed the ship toward the dining area at the stern, she wondered idly what her host would be doing this evening.

  She stopped, open-mouthed, when she saw him, dressed in evening clothes, leaning against the rail, the rich aroma of a Corona Colorado cigar wafting toward her. She would have turned and retraced her steps, but he whirled around, like a lion at the ready and flicked the cheroot into the water.

  "Ah... so here you are. Come and sit down and have some appetizers. Darby tells me you're hungry. I hope you won't eat so many canapés that you can't enjoy Rowan's specialty this evening—truite en colere."