by Alison Tyler
Cat watched the ferry drift out to sea. She remained long after it disappeared over the horizon. She wished she had been as daring tonight as she'd been while doing her stunt today.
As soon as he had kissed her good-bye and headed toward that ferry, she knew she wanted to be with him. Sure, she was scared. So was Luke.
But as soon as the vision of being in his warm embrace surfaced, all those fears seemed to evaporate. She finally turned away and walked back toward her empty bungalow. Sometimes, she decided, she calculated the odds too carefully.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"It's burned."
"No, it isn't. A bit charred, that's all. I like it that way."
"Don't be ridiculous, Luke. You aren't going to hurt my feelings. I told you domesticity wasn't my thing. This proves it." Cat stared at his burned steak.
"You didn't have to prove it," he said, grinning.
"What's that supposed to mean? No, don't tell me. Despite my layman's understanding of your profession, I know you think I burned your steak on purpose."
"Did you?"
"Of course not. I wanted to make that steak for you. I don't eat meat, but I can cook it. Maybe my mind was on other things."
"Some stunt you're doing tomorrow?" There was a bite to his words.
"No." She shot him a cool glance, then lowered her eyes.
This night was not going according to plan for either of them. Apart all week, they had both indulged in fantasy, dreaming of being together again and regretting the wait they had imposed on themselves.
Luke had been able to work on his book mainly out of a need to keep his mind oft' Cat. He had skipped his proposed plan to work afternoons only, using mornings and evenings to relax. There was no relaxing without Cat. So he'd worked ten, sometimes fifteen hours a day, hoping at night to be so exhausted he would collapse into sleep. Most nights, that didn't work.
As soon as he let his guard down, Cat popped right into his mind. While at times the images were sensuous and pleasurable, more often than not, serious concerns kept crowding out the pleasant fantasies. It was one thing, he realized, to slip away from reality into a unique relationship for a brief while. But he and Cat had moved beyond the fantasy when she showed up in his bungalow and they both realized they could not end what they had begun.
The days without Luke were hectic ones for Cat. She did not have to call forth any self-imposed concentration to keep her mind on her work. The stunts for this film were more numerous and riskier than any she had ever done. She might deny it to Luke, but she and Dodger were well aware that Whitney's film was pushing her to her limits. For the most part, she felt confident about what he asked her to do, but a few times she joined Dodger in arguing against a particular stunt operation.
At night, she returned to her bungalow drained and exhausted. The problem was, when she slid under the covers of her bed, all she wanted was to have Luke's loving arms around her, to feel safe and secure in what was becoming a stable anchor in her life.
That was what scared her the most. Stability had never been something she searched out or wanted. Even now, its comfort made her uneasy. She sometimes felt like it was a rope being tied around her. Only, she was the one doing the tying.
She laid some of the blame on her father's impending marriage to Joanie. Who wouldn't experience some envy at the loving, caring picture the two of them created together? Sure, there was a part of her that wondered what it would be like to have that kind of relationship. But there was another part of her that rebelled at the very thought of such a binding commitment.
She was completely unaware, as she sat across the table from Luke, that tears were rolling down her cheeks. Luke knelt down beside her. She opened her eyes as he brushed the tears away.
"Don't cry, Kitten," he whispered tenderly.
The sound of his loving voice made her cry more. Luke stood up and took her hand, leading her over to the couch. He sat her down, sitting beside her, taking her in his arms. He pressed his lips against her shimmering, silky-soft hair. A new feeling was stirring inside him. All this time, he had sensed the hidden vulnerability within Cat, but this was the first time she had really let it surface. Holding her against him, he felt a special loving warmth, a deep, protective caring for this woman who was usually so independent, so determined to be a free, untamed spirit.
"It isn't working out the way I planned," she murmured into the crook of his neck when the tears finally subsided. "I don't usually burn dinner, and I can't remember the last time I broke down and cried like this. And—and… Oh Luke, in my dreams everything goes so smoothly. I never wanted any man the way I want you. I've never felt this way before." She looked up at him, a tiny smile on her lips, her eyes a warm teal blue. "Do you think it's love?"
He put his arms around her and kissed her gently on the lips. Cat slipped her hands around his neck and kissed him back—a dozen tiny kisses on his lips, his eyelids, his neck, and back again to his lips.
"You see what I mean. I want you so badly, Luke. When I'm wrapped around you like this, everything but desire floats away like meaningless puffs of smoke."
Luke wanted nothing more than to make love to her right then. He wanted to let go of everything but his need for her. But he couldn't. There were too many unspoken issues that had been slowly but surely causing walls to be built between them.
He held her at arm's length. "Where there's smoke there's usually fire, Cat. That fire, once it starts, can destroy everything in its wake. I don't want that to happen to us."
Cat stared at him soberly, the desire in her eyes fading away as Luke's words penetrated.
"I'm scared, Luke. I'm scared that the fire has been smoldering right from that first moment we met. A moment out of time and place. That's how it felt to me. You appeared like magic, taking me into another world, another life."
Her eyes met his. "Everything about you makes me want you, Luke—and yet, strangely keeps me distant. Sometimes I try to imagine going off with you to one of your medical conferences. Remember that afternoon you flew out of the hotel to meet Teri? God, I was jealous."
Her voice grew softer. "I didn't even realize how jealous until the dreams began. Dreams of me rushing off to meet you at one of your important conferences. I would be at your side while all your colleagues shook your hand respectfully, listened to all your erudite words of wisdom with awed looks in their eyes. You'd be standing up behind a podium presenting your research paper, and the applause would fill the room. And I'd feel so proud, Luke."
She paused for a moment. "Then the dream would turn into a nightmare. Some guy in a beard, looking very sage, would come over to me. In my dream I know he's talking English, but I can't follow one single word. I look over to you for help and you rush over. Only, when you explain what this man is saying, I don't understand you, either."
"Then someone looking very much like Teri strolls by. She gives this smug little laugh and explains to this man that I do stunts. He stares at me as though I have just landed in my spacecraft and then he gazes at you with this pathetic look of pity in his eyes."
"Sounds like a terrible dream," he murmured, stroking her cheek. "Not too different from some of mine. I don't have to be a psychiatrist to do dream interpretation on any of them."
"I know. How does the song go? 'Two different worlds…' They must have written that one with us in mind."
Luke held her against him, his fingers gently caressing her back. When he spoke, his voice was filled with tender warmth.
"Since the day we met, I have been completely infatuated with you. You've sparked feelings and responses in me I never knew existed. Talk about jealousy. All those times I assumed Dodger was some suave older lover of yours, I thought I would burst with outrage. I never felt jealous of any woman in my life before you popped into view on that damn ledge."
"For a man who has lived his entire life following self-prescribed rules of order, I suddenly found myself being governed a good deal of the time by my impulses. I'll admit, some
of those impulses threw me for a loop—scared the hell out of me. But—and here's the thing that makes it all so crazy—I've never felt this wonderful, this alive, this much in love in my life."
"Oh, Luke."
Passion overtook them even as they both sensed that something was coming to an end. Their admissions made the inevitability of their separation that much nearer. It was as though they needed to confess the truth, share the depth of their feelings, so that they would be able to part with honesty, leaving something real and vital to treasure.
But at that moment, as Luke took Cat in his arms and she curved into him so perfectly, they could respond only to the love and need they shared. One last time, they grasped the moment, daring tomorrow to touch them.
Making love together was never the same. Always some new element came into play—new feelings, new discoveries, new innovations in the art of lovemaking that neither of them had ever before experienced. They may have crossed worlds to come together, but in each other's arms they created a unique, splendorous world of their own creation. Tonight was no different, except that the new quality in their words and actions was one of love. A love that was bittersweet.
Tears mingled with sighs; whispered words of caring were tinged with sadness. Longing blended with fear. They clung to each other, desperate to stretch out the moment, wanting to shut out reality one last time.
They succeeded. Luke took possession of Cat's body and soul as he made love to her with the intensity of a man who had to claim her as his own. He plundered her slender form with searing kisses, crushed her to him so tightly she was left breathless. She kissed him back with a hungry demand, her hands tantalizing him as she left her mark on every inch of his body.
When he carried her over to the bed, a naked Greek goddess in his arms, she clung to him, kissing him all the while. Her fingers could feel the flexing of his muscles as he tightened his hold on her. She loved the ease with which he carried her. His lean build hid a sinewy strength and power always visible in their lovemaking but never so much as now.
The strength of his passion transported her into another universe. When he gently laid her on the bed, she caught hold of his wrists, tugging him down on top of her. Even that momentary separation had made her feel cold and lonely.
He could feel the beat of her heart as she pressed his head to her. Cat sighed as his hand cupped her breast. His probing tongue captured a sweet, hardened nipple. His mouth tasted the tender bud deeply, sensuously. He took nibbling bites that sent shivers through her.
She rubbed her chin against his dark, glistening hair, like a kitten might do. A kitten with the passion of a tigress, the independence of a cat.
Releasing her nipple, his mouth traveled to her breasts and then down her rib cage, his hands tightly pressed against her hips. He could feel the subtle movements in her body with each of his caresses, her own erotic strokes on his burning flesh growing fiercer, her sensuous undulations intensifying.
"I love you, Cat," he whispered as he entered her.
"I love you, too. I always will." Her words erupted in quick, breathy sounds as he took control of her body and she let herself be led again to ecstasy.
They lay together for a long while afterward without saying a word. A few times Luke thought Cat had fallen asleep, but when he stirred, she would kiss him lightly on his neck or cheek or chest. Then he would take her in his arms and plant tender kisses on her lips. Finally, as the night slipped into dawn, they fell asleep, Luke's arm curled protectively, lovingly around her shoulders.
She was already dressed, cowgirl fashion, when he opened his eyes the next morning. A bright sun was shining through the window.
"What time is it?"
"Almost eight."
"Are you working today?"
She nodded.
"Cat?" He paused, not sure what he wanted to say. "When are you leaving Greece?" Those weren't the words in his heart, but they were strongly on his mind.
"At the end of next week."
He nodded.
Cat started to spoon some instant coffee into two mugs. She stopped in motion, set the spoon down, and walked over to the bed.
Luke stretched out his hand, and she sat down beside him.
"I'm starting on a new film in a few weeks."
"You don't take much time off, do you?"
"In this business, if you take too much time off, they find somebody else."
"Where will you go for this next movie?"
"New York, for part of it. And then overseas to Switzerland. It's a movie about a group of mountain climbers in the 1930s. One brave young woman and four men who scale the peaks together. I'm stunting for Stephanie Chasen. Did you ever hear of her?"
He was seeing icy precipices before his eyes and didn't hear Cat's question.
"Luke?"
He looked at her, the image not fading completely. His fingertips brushed her neck, a faint smile on his lips.
"You are my wild spirit. I suppose you have to scale mountains, dive off cliffs. But I want you to know one thing. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you have a part of my heart with you." His eyes were moist with tears as he whispered once again, "I love you."
His words triggered her own tears. "I'm not sure I…"
"We're just not ready, Cat. Neither of us can bridge the gap right now. When we met, we were traveling on roads leading to destinations that we still need to get to. We took a very special and wondrous detour. But we have to get back on that road again. If there was any way in the world I could get you to hitch a ride with me to where I'm going, I would do it. And I know you feel the same."
"I guess we both want to be in the driver's seat. I do love you, Luke. There is no doubt in my mind about that. But I've never believed in hitching a ride."
"You'd better get going," Luke said softly.
She nodded but made no effort to move. Her body felt suddenly weighted down, immobile. He drew her to him.
Their kiss was sweetly tender and loving. And this time it truly tasted of good-bye.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The ancient ferry, laboring under the weight of the few cars and passengers, made its way into port. Cat had come to the tiny island of Skiros a day before most of the cast and crew to go over a couple of stunts with Dodger and two other stunt men.
Skiros, among the least accessible and least touristed of the Sporades island chain, also seemed to Cat to be one of the most beautiful. She hoped being here would lift her spirits. She focused her attention on the medieval castle silhouetted in the distance, hundreds of fig trees decorating the picturesque countryside.
Dodger came over and rested his hands lightly on Cat's shoulders as the cars began to pull off the ferry. Cat continued to stare out in front of her, but she placed her hands over her fathers.
For the past few days Dodger had been worried about Cat. She looked tired and drawn; she avoided being with him, or anyone else, for that matter. When she was working, she was testy, argumentative, and distracted. He had a good idea about the cause of her miserable state, but every time he so much as breathed Luke Eliot's name, she flared up.
"Beautiful, isn't it, Dodger?"
"Real nice. Let's just hope the weather holds out. I'm looking forward to winding this thing up." He had his own personal reasons for not wanting any delay. He and Joanie were going to get married as soon as they got back to the States. Now that they had decided, neither of them wanted to wait any longer than they had to. But Dodger had another reason for wanting to get this picture wrapped. Cat.
Dodger was banking on a change of scene to get his daughter back into a healthy frame of mind. Her tension was also rubbing off on him. He did not relish the idea of these last few stunts. They had saved the toughest for the last. One in particular, a spectacular car chase around the island, Cat in the lead car, his other two stunters behind in their cars, culminating in a wild three-car collision, had him especially nervous. It would have made him uptight no matter what—these choreographed crashes coul
d be tricky under the most controlled of circumstances—but Cats mood escalated his worry.
"We're going to run through the markings nice and easy today," Dodger said as they walked together off the ferry. "We'll all ride through the route together, and I'll go over some last-minute changes—very minor—so there should be no problem. Okay?"
"Sure. I have a few changes, too. Very minor," she added before Dodger balked.
"Just don't you forget I'm running the show. I have the last word on switches."
"Fine." She sped up her step. Dodger caught her by the arm.
"Hold on, now. Whitney made it clear to me, Cat, that he's already well over budget on this damn film. He doesn't want to drive up the cost even higher by having to reshoot stunts. Those three cars cost plenty, and we only want to go around once."
Cat didn't answer.
"Maybe you'd better tell me those changes right here and now," Dodger said.
"Can we get onto shore first—or do you want to take a round trip ride again?"
He kept a tight grip on her elbow as they stepped on shore. Waving to the other stunters, he shouted, "Meet us over in that cafe." He motioned in the direction of a small taverna a few yards off the dock.
"Dodger, please."
"Please, what? If you have some wild notions in your head about doing some extra fancy driving gag, I want to hear about it."
"Okay, you win," she relented. "Remember the movie Deathwatch—that final chase scene? Frank Evans coordinated it; George Corey ran it through."
"I remember it," he said cautiously. It was one of the better planned stunt chases he'd seen, and he had respect for Evans's talents. However, he'd worked with Corey on a couple of pictures and found the man to be too reckless and hotheaded.
"Well, Corey did a super blowout and spin-off in that chase. Just at the turn when he gets his speed up and the other cars are still far enough back, he comes down on the shoulder of the road and throws the car sideways. Then he—"