Enthralled

by Ann Cristy

  Teel resisted the hand leading her to the round table laden with cold delicacies. A chafing dish bubbled nearby, and her palate was teased by the spicy aroma of deviled clams. "I don't want to intrude on your guests and your dinner," she began.

  Chazz grinned at her and settled her gently into a chair. "Not much chance of that since you're my only guest."

  "How come?" Teel asked, her composure deserting her.

  Chazz laughed, throwing his head back in open enjoyment.

  Teel stared at his exposed throat, which was strong and muscular like the rest of him, and felt her heart slip sideways. "I mean—don't you have—you must have—" She glared at him when he continued to look at her, his eyes glittering with amusement. "You know darned well what I mean," she finished lamely.

  Chazz's black eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "Sister, I'm shocked.

  "You bring out the worst in me," Teel murmured, uneasiness assailing her at the mockery in his tone. She reached for some of the gold caviar molded in ice, refusing to look at him and swallowing before she spoke. "Why do you say 'Sister' in that peculiar way?" She reached for another canapé without thinking, then felt embarrassed at her greediness. But when she hesitated, Chazz served her himself.

  "Do I say 'Sister' in a peculiar way?" he asked, his voice like velvet on steel. "I wonder why that should bother you." His smile looked as threatening as a shark's.

  Teel tried to hold his narrowed gaze with her own, but looked away first. She was relieved when Rowan announced dinner.

  The food was a delight, not only to eat but also to look at. Teel had seen pictures of the trout dish with its tail in its mouth and the attendant vegetables, but she had never tasted it. Nor had she ever tried Dom Perignon champagne.

  When she finally sighed and pushed back her plate, Darby appeared with a silver tray laden with French pastries. Teel briefly tried to resist the temptation, but gave in and selected an éclair.

  "That's the size of the dinghy—dipped in chocolate," Chazz commented, then grinned at Teel's glowering look as he reached over to wipe a bit of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. Just then Rowan arrived on deck to urge her to try the Napoleons as well. She felt herself redden as the three men watched her finish the sweet with broad smiles on their faces.

  "These are luscious, Rowan," Teel said admiringly, determined to keep her eyes on the chef when Chazz chuckled. She couldn't help smiling, though when she glanced at Darby's delighted, grinning leprechaun face. She laughed out loud. But when the others left carrying away the last of the dishes and she turned to Chazz, her smile faded. Chazz's features looked as if they'd been etched in stone. "What's wrong?" Teel asked in a strained voice.

  "I have a consuming wish to see you laugh like that all the time, Sister Terese Ellen." Chazz ground out the words between clenched teeth. "It would be like Christmas and Chanukah for me to smother you in jewels and furs."

  "I—I don't live like that." Teel felt her skin tighten with fear art the glitter in his eyes. "I don't want to live like that," she added.

  "No?" he asked softly.

  "No. What's the matter with you? I don't understand why you should question everything—"

  "Do I do that, Sister?" he interrupted.

  "There you go again with that sarcastic way you have of saying 'Sister.'" Teel failed to keep the shrillness from her voice. "Why are you doing that?" she demanded. He knows, he knows, her mind clamored. He knows you're not a nun.

  Chazz took a sip of cognac after swirling the amber liquid in his snifter. He took a deep breath. "Come along. Darby will have brought the dinghy around to the platform." "Where are we going?" Teel gulped. "I don't understand you."

  "Oh, but you will." Taking her arm, he lifted her from the chair. "I'm going to have a flutter at the tables. I thought you might enjoy it."

  "If you mean by flutter—gambling—I don't gamble—well, what I mean is, not as a rule."

  "It wouldn't fit the role of a nun, hmmm?" His dry tone stopped her dead in her tracks.

  "Now what do you mean?" She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his answer.

  "Let's go." He spat out the words like bullets from a gun. His hands gripped hers like iron bands as they descended the steep stairs leading to the loading platform.

  When Teel would have balked at the side of the dinghy, Chazz's golden eyes bore into her until she fell still. Then he jumped into the dinghy, clasped her round the waist, and lifted her into the boat.

  "You're certainly arrogant," she gasped out.

  He stared in harsh amusement as she attempted to straighten her dress. "I'm glad you decided to put on that stole," he said. "It's not much but it covers your charms more than that dress." He turned his back on her and eased the dinghy away from the Deirdre; the boat shot toward shore as he gave it full throttle, throwing Teel back against the cushions in an inelegant sprawl.

  Casino royale was a revelation to Teel, even though Chazz assured her that casinos throughout the world were pretty much the same.

  "There are probably three hundred Casino Royales in the world, differing only in the degree of opulence," he explained. "Many are frequented only by the jet set. Others are notorious tourist traps, but by and large they are much the same." The gold lighter in his hand flared under his cheroot, making Teel think at once of Rudolph Valentino. Her involuntary laugh brought his eyes to her.

  "Tell me the joke."

  "I don't think you'd like it."

  "Try me."

  "I was just thinking that if you were less tall and less muscular and your hair were slicked down, you would look just like Rudolph Valentino." She couldn't stop chuckling as she said it and was unprepared for Chazz's answering laugh. She was flabbergasted by his dimples. They just didn't fit the man—but oh, how endearing they were! She felt a blush creep up her neck at the thought.

  "So I'm the Great Lover, am I?" His voice was like velvet. "Perhaps I should act the part."

  Teel looked abruptly away from him, feeling as though her heart had just stopped beating. She gazed around the room in desperation. "I guess this must be a jet setters' hangout," she commented tartly. She felt his golden eyes sweep over her.

  "What makes you say that?" he asked, amused.

  "You're here. After what I've read of your international escapades, I can't see you frequenting a second- rate casino."

  Chazz shrugged and took her arm, nodding once to the maitre d' as they approached the game room. "One of the perks of having money. I like first class. Does that annoy you?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact it does. Why not try second class and give some of your money away?" She studied the huge room with its silk moirre walls and ceiling, and sparkling chandelier. She was astonished by the way the people's clothes seemed to match the room's gold and glitter.

  "Don't be pompous, Sister." The icy voice at her ear seemed to carry a double meaning. "Perhaps we all hide... certain aspects of our life from other people." Teel's head whipped around to face him, but his eyes swept the room as he continued to speak. "Don't assume that because I live first class I have never cared for those less fortunate than myself."

  She put her hand on his arm, making him face her. "I was out of line, but I still don't see you as the philanthropic type." She could have bitten her tongue at her choice of words. Everything she said came out sounding self-righteous. She was attacking him and enjoying it, she mused to herself, bewildered by her reactions to him. Why didn't she stop?

  "I don't see you as a nun, Sister Terese Ellen, " he said, ignoring her startled gasp

  He took her arm without another word and led her to one of the gambling tables where he stopped and looked down at her, a muscle tensing in his jaw. "This is a baccarat table, Sister. I'm going to play. You may watch or wander—or play." He dropped a roll of bills in her hand, then sat down in one of the chairs.

  A dozen questions crowded Teel's tongue, but there were too many people looking at her already. She didn't relish a verbal confrontation with Chazz in this p
osh public place.

  She wandered away, the money clutched in her fist. Nothing interested her until she came to the black-jack table. She remembered playing twenty-one with her father when she was a child, but they had played for matches. She sat down at an empty place and plunked down a bill that the croupier changed immediately into chips. When he looked at her, his head inclined, she nodded. The fast deal mystified her. She was glad when she lost and could rise from the chair, shaking her head when the croupier gave her a questioning look.

  She sighed and wandered aimlessly, startled when a glass of white wine was pushed under her nose. She looked up at a medium-tall man with thinning hair and shook her head.

  "Are you sure?" he asked. "Well then, would you like to play roulette with me? You might bring me luck."

  Teel shook her head, her smile cold. "No thank you. I'm with someone."

  The balding man took her arm, his thin hands surprisingly strong. "Oh, come along and play," he insisted.

  Suddenly Chazz loomed large at Teel's side.

  "Walk while you still have two unbroken legs," he bit out, his smile grim. The balding man melted away.

  Teel faced Chazz, the silver cast to his skin and the light in his amber eyes clues to his fury. Her own anger rose hot in her throat. "You didn't have to come on like the mob's leading hit man," she accused him.

  "Should I have let that cheap shill strong-arm you to the roulette table?" He bit through the words as though he were chewing steel.

  "I thought you only went to places that wouldn't have cheap shills," she pointed out, her chin thrust forward.

  "You said that, I didn't." He took her arm, swallowed the contents of his glass and led her toward what seemed to be a night club with music for dancing and a small floor show. "I need a drink," he said.

  "You just had one." Teel tried to pry his fingers from her arm as they followed a maitre d' to a table.

  "With you I seem to drink more." His mouth was close to her ear as he transferred his grip to her waist.

  "Is that possible?" she countered. "When Elise and Clare and the others were aboard you were always blitzed," she said baldly.

  "Sister, how you talk!" Chazz seated her and ordered a double Irish whiskey, raising his black brows when Teel insisted on Perrier and lime. The waiter informed her they were out of Perrier. Teel frowned as Chazz shot her a mocking grin.

  "Then I'll have Gerolsteiner Sprudel please—with lime." She explained that it was a German charge water.

  "Oh Lord." Chazz regarded her in exasperated amusement. "It wouldn't hurt you to have a drink, you know." He lit one of his ever-present cheroots.

  "And it wouldn't hurt you not to have one." Teel looked away toward the comedy act that was just beginning on the stage. She had thought she had seen and heard bawdy material, but this show brought home to her with terrific force that she was just a babe in arms. In minutes her face was flushed with embarrassment.

  She had no idea that Chazz had hitched his chair closer to hers until he spoke directly in her ear. "Forgive me. I was stupid to bring you here. Shall we leave? I forgot how bad these sometimes are."

  The thought of walking through all those laughing people, perhaps drawing attention to herself, perhaps having one of the comedians spotlight her with a lewd remark, sapped her strength. She shook her head, but when Chazz's arm went round her shoulder, she was glad to sink back against him. Somehow the show didn't seem so bad that way. It surprised her to realize she was sorry when the act ended and the lights came up. She hadn't wanted to move away from Chazz. As it was, even when she straightened, they weren't far apart. Chazz kept his chair close to hers.

  When the band began to play dancing music, Chazz lifted Teel from her chair and led her onto the floor. "Now don't tell me nuns don't dance," he said. "This is a unique situation and one dance won't hurt." A devilish light glimmered in his golden eyes, but Teel attributed it to the Irish whiskey he continued to tip down his throat.

  Teel had always loved to dance and had taken ballet lessons when she was a child. It didn't surprise her that Chazz was a very good dancer. A man who moved as well as he did, not only walking but also swimming, had to be good on the dance floor.

  "Well, well, Sister Terese Ellen has another talent," he commented wryly. "You continue to surprise me, or do you?" He swung her away from his body and Teel laughed out loud. She felt his intent gaze on her, but she was having too much fun to pay attention.

  They danced slow, fast, and even waltzed. When the band played a polka, Teel moved to sit down but Chazz wouldn't let her. He whirled her expertly around the room, seeming to know all the nuances of the dance.

  "Where did you learn that?" Teel gasped.

  "You forget I was raised on the sidewalks of New York. We danced all the time. My father and mother and later my aunt had friends of all ethnic persuasions who encouraged me to take part." Chazz didn't seem as winded as Teel and had no trouble talking with her. That alone made her itch to get back at him somehow.

  When they returned to the table, Teel reached for her seltzer water and drained the glass. Chazz had already finished his Irish whiskey, but he ordered another.

  They danced again and then rested while the band took a short break. Teel was having fun, and if she had a niggling suspicion that Chazz was drinking more than even his hard head could handle, she pushed the thought aside. She was enjoying herself more than she had in years. She needed it.

  Near the end of the evening the band played more slow tunes, and though they often returned to the table to quench their endless thirst, Chazz and Teel still managed to dance most of the time. When Chazz first put both arms around her, Teel stiffened, but when she pushed at his arms, he pulled her closer. She shrugged and relaxed. Everyone else in the room was embracing the same way.

  They danced and danced. Other couples left and still they danced. Finally they were the last ones on the dance floor. The music was mellow and smooth and Teel became even more comfortable with her arms looped up around Chazz's neck. Their bodies seemed fused, as though the two worked as one Teel had never felt so relaxed yet so tense with excitement. She could feel every sinew in his thighs. His arms seemed to cocoon her. His fingers seemed to touch every pore. When his mouth moved over her cheek, she began to draw back, but he wouldn't let her. "Beautiful, beautiful," Chazz murmured, his lips teasing her ear. "You're not what you seem, lady mine." His voice was thick.

  "We'd better go now," Teel whispered. "You're being foolish."

  "Yes."

  Chazz kept her close to him as they returned to the table to retrieve Teel's wrap and clutch purse. He gulped down the last of his drink, then signed the bill without looking at it, his eyes never leaving Teel's face. She said good night to the maitre d' while Chazz still looked at her, his fingers kneading the flesh at her waist.

  The balmy night sky was filled with stars. When Teel looked up, Chazz turned to face her. "I have to," he murmured, "even if you hate me for it." And in the warm darkness he pulled her into a tight embrace. His mouth was open on hers, hers open as well—in surprise. Her heart hammered in fear and excitement. She had known Chazz was as aware of her as she was of him, but she had felt safe in her guise as a nun. Now the barriers between them had been broken and she was no longer safe at all.

  She struggled at first, her hands pulling at the fingers that cupped her face, but Chazz took no notice. His fingers tightened. His tongue soothed her lips, then invaded her mouth, searching, savoring.

  A hot sword seemed to pierce Teel. No, it couldn't be happening to her again. No man could scale her defenses. No man could touch her!

  One warm hand left her face to trail down her neck and over her shoulder, then lower to softly cover her breast. "Darling," Chazz groaned.

  "No... not like this... no..."

  "You're right," Chazz whispered into her neck before he swept her up into his arms. "You're so beautiful. Do you know that?"

  Teel stared at him, clutching his neck, a niggling snake of panic unco
iling in her stomach. "Where are you taking me?"

  "To the Deirdre."

  Teel let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I'm tired."

  "Are you, darling?" Chazz's voice was slurred as she'd heard it once before. The whiskey was having its effect.

  Teel was determined to head for her stateroom the moment she boarded the yacht. She watched intently as Chazz fired the dinghy, his movements less precise than usual. He really had drunk a great deal this evening. Thank God she was sober, Teel thought. How horrible it would be if she had drunk something. How vulnerable she'd be if he ever made any moves toward her. As it was, her senses seemed heightened by the evening she'd spent with Chazz. Even now as they sped across the water toward the Deirdre, she could almost feel the warm touch of his hands on her waist and back when they'd danced.

  As Chazz tied the dinghy to the landing grid, Teel hurried up the ladder. She was halfway down the wide set of stairs leading to her cabin when a hand closed over her arm. She shivered as she turned. "I'm tired, Chazz. I'm going right to bed." "Good, so am I. But I brought you something to help you sleep." He raised the bottle in his hand. "I told Darby to leave this in the lounge for us. lust one."

  Teel shook her head. "I'm too tired to go back to the lounge. I'll just say good night here." She entered her cabin and turned to see that Chazz had followed her. She opened her mouth to argue, but the glitter in his eyes stopped her. "All right," she conceded. "Just a small one. Shall we go back to the lounge?"

  "Nope." Chazz grinned, then brought his other hand from behind him He held mo glasses. He sat down on the bed and poured the cognac.

  Teel sat on the edge of a bench, thinking that Chazz didn't need any more to drink and certainly not the generous portion of brandy he had poured into his glass. She looked at her own glass and knew that she wouldn't be able to finish it.

  Chazz raised his snifter toward hers. "To us."

  "Good luck," Teel said, and she sipped the aromatic liqueur, welcoming its hot bite as a sudden chill made her shiver. She had a sense of waiting, of not being able to move because a large invisible hand held her in place. She didn't believe in destiny or Kismet, she told herself. She should just get up and leave. But her body refused to do what her mind urged.