Sydney, the Temptress (The Delaneys of Killaroo)

by Fayrene Preston

  “N-N-Nicholas...” Damn, she had stammered again! She had to be more careful.

  Finally, and at last, his mouth took the nipple, and she wanted to cry out with relief and pleasure, but this time she remained quiet.

  “Talk to me, Sydney. Tell me what you want.”

  She wanted to talk to him, God knew. She wanted to give him everything. Yet, in spite of what she wanted, she stayed silent. After all, he had her emotions speeding along like a roller coaster, twisting and turning, exciting and alternately soothing. She didn’t know where he was going to take her next.

  By remaining silent, she could handle these turbulent emotions, she told herself. She could have the pleasure of the lovemaking and still retain her control. It would be better that way.

  And Nicholas would never know, she told herself, for certainly she was responding.

  “You’re holding back,” he murmured as his fingers tightened around her other nipple.

  How did he know? she wondered even as she once again arched to his mouth.

  His hand slid down her stomach to the band of her panties and beneath.

  Oh, Lord, the feelings! So many, piling one on top of the other, so potent.

  “Let go, Sydney. Trust me. Let go.”

  He would never know how badly she wanted to let go. She really did. But she didn’t want to stutter anymore. Not with Nicholas, not the first time they made love.

  “Talk to me,” he whispered, whisking her panties off. Then his fingers delved lower, through the nest of curls, and lower, to the opening where heat pulsed. “Does this feel good?”

  She arched. “Oh-oh-oh... yes!”

  “Good, good. How about this?” He pressed his finger against the spot that seemed to need his touch the most, and she couldn’t believe the feelings that sparked out from the single touch.

  All she could do was sigh her words. “Oh-oh-oh, Lord, N-N-Nicholas!”

  “And I know that this will feel good.” His finger began to move in tiny circles.

  “Ahhh...”

  She writhed as the pleasure rose inside her, like a wave, forming and reforming, gaining power and momentum as it went, looking for a shore on which to spend itself.

  Then his finger dipped inside her, and his teeth gently closed around a nipple. At the same time, she felt his other hand stroke her forehead. There was no help for her. She could only feel and listen.

  “You’re going to do it, Sydney. You’re going to give yourself completely to me, and when that happens, a whole new world will open for you. And I’ll be there, making you feel things you never thought possible, taking you places you never knew existed, doing things to you that you’ve only dreamed about.”

  Pressure here, a slide of his finger across there. A nibble into soft skin, a bite of sweetness, a kiss of urgent hunger. She was losing her mind. She was losing control. And she didn’t care.

  She didn’t care, because she was on fire, and a force had taken over her body—passion in its purest and most unyielding form.

  It was with relief that she felt Nicholas slide inside her. But the relief lasted only moments, because he began to thrust into her with long, powerful strokes. She clung and moved and cried out, but he didn’t relent. He was the one with control now, urging her onward and upward, with ever-increasing pressure into her, until...

  “Nicholas!”

  ... together they soared like the black swans.

  Eight

  “You were a virgin.”

  It hadn’t been a question, so she didn’t answer.

  “I’ve never been given total innocence before. Open your eyes, Sydney, and tell me why you gave away your virginity for me.”

  His voice sounded troubled, and as soon as she opened her eyes she saw that he was frowning at her. And probably, she reflected, her answer would make his frown deepen.

  “Because I love you, Nicholas.”

  “I told you that I can’t—”

  “—love.” His response had been a swift and automatic defense of a heart long guarded, she thought sadly. “I know. But in my short experience of love, it doesn’t seem to matter if the other person doesn’t love you back. You still love them.”

  “Sydney...”

  She laid her hand on his cheek. “I came to you, knowing exactly what I was doing. I loved you. I wanted you. I trusted you. And so far you’ve done nothing to abuse any of those feelings.”

  “And if I do?”

  His voice had hardened, sending a shiver down her spine. She wanted back the man who had so patiently taught her the art of lovemaking and then afterward had held her in his arms, soothing away the trembles and the tears of release and joy. “I guess I’ll have to deal with that if and when it happens. In the meantime, I’d very much like you to make love to me again.”

  Although he was already leaning over her, he made no move toward fulfilling her request.

  “What’s the matter, Nicholas? Have you taught me everything you know?”

  Her question so innocently asked spurred him to action. Nicholas spent the night teaching her, and before the morning came, Sydney was teaching him.

  Light was just beginning to appear through the sloped glass ceiling when he murmured, “You’re tired.” He reached over to the bedside table and pressed two buttons. Shades automatically rolled down the ceiling, and heavy curtains swung across the windows, sealing the light out and the darkness in. “Stay here and sleep with me.”

  She snuggled against him and felt his arms gather her closer. And she slept.

  To Nicholas, though, sleep didn’t come as easily. For long hours he lay awake, listening to the roar of the sea and asking himself hard-to-answer questions. He had been honest with Sydney. He had told her more than he had ever told anyone else, and he had confessed that he didn’t think he was capable of love. Yet she had come to him anyway. And now she was curled against him, sleeping peacefully, trustingly. Why did that bother him? Why couldn’t he sleep?

  Why was he so troubled? Getting Sydney in his bed had been exactly what he had wanted. The previous hours had been extraordinary. He had never known such gratification, such elation. Why wasn’t it enough?

  * * *

  Before Nicholas woke and before night fell again, Sydney left his arms and made her way back to the hotel. It was close to the time when the guests would be dressing for dinner, so she didn’t feel too out of place in her red silk gown. But as luck would have it, Mike, Julian, and Sai were all on the terrace when she climbed the steps.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  Julian and Sai nodded. Mike grinned. “That’s a beautiful gown, Sydney. I thought so yesterday evening when I saw you in it.”

  Sydney refused to rise to his teasing. “Thank you, but I’m going up to change now.”

  “Sydney, wait up.” Mike ran after her, his expression now serious.

  She stopped. “What is it?”

  “I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry. I had no right to light into you the way I did the other night.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I was upset with myself for letting Nicholas get off the island in the first place, but I had no right to take my anger out on you.”

  “You didn’t know he left?”

  “Not until after he had gone. Nicholas answers to no one, not even me, but in this case his actions could have had fatal consequences for him.”

  So cold did she suddenly feel, it was as though ice were melting down her spine. “It’s hard for me to believe that anyone would want to harm him.”

  “Nicholas has many enemies, Sydney. The man commands fear, hate, and respect in equal measures from people.”

  “But what about love?” she asked softly.

  “He doesn’t want love.”

  She pushed a strand of hair off her face. “I know. But it doesn’t matter, does it? You love him, and so do I. I’ll see you later.”

  In her room she laid out what she would wear that night. Then she took off the red silk gown and stepped into the show
er. She felt marvelous, she reflected, as she let the hot steamy water pour over her, easing the soreness in certain areas of her body. She was well rested and looking forward to the night ahead and the hands of blackjack she would play.

  When sometime later she entered her bedroom, she saw that the light on her phone was flashing, indicating that someone had rung while she had been in the shower. Her pulse leaped into double time as she thought of Nicholas. But when she called the desk for her message, she found it was from a man named Dennis Billet. The message was simple. Manda needed her, and Dennis would pick her up at the Brisbane airport tomorrow.

  Sydney hung up the phone and sat down on the bed. She had never met Dennis, but she had heard Manda talk about him before. Questions buzzed in her head. Why hadn’t Manda contacted her herself? Was Manda ill or hurt? Maybe it would be better if she left tonight, she thought, already rising to pack. But then she stopped herself. Dennis was Manda’s friend. If Manda had been in serious trouble, he would have arranged to meet her sometime tonight.

  She glanced at the clock. She had time to pack, dress, and then go down and play a few hands before Nicholas arrived.

  She played for four straight hours, and although she lost quite a few hands, she won most of them. She was pleased, she told herself. Her earnings were mounting. She still had a long way to go, but she was confident that she would arrive at her goal in time to help her father, plus be able to pay Nicholas back. Last night hadn’t changed that resolve. She wanted no debts between them.

  Reluctantly she pushed away from the table. She would have liked to have played a few more hands, but she needed to see Nicholas. She couldn’t leave the island without telling him she was going. Not this time.

  She made her way up to his aerie, stopping occasionally to speak with people she had come to know. Weeks ago she would have laughed if someone had told her she would be able to move through Charron’s Glass Palace with complete comfort and confidence. And she would have called insane any person who tried to tell her that she and the mysterious owner of the Isle of Charron would be lovers.

  But she was his lover, she reminded herself, and in a matter of moments she would see him again.

  She found him on the couch in the sitting area, reading through a thick report. It was the same couch she had sat on that first night when he had sent for her. He rose when he saw her.

  She discovered she couldn’t prevent the shyness that manifested itself in her voice. “Hi. Am I interrupting you?’

  He held out his arms and she went into them. “Interruption from you is entirely welcome.”

  She had never known being held in a man’s arms could be so wonderful. She could feel his strength; she could sense his care and need for her. When she raised her head to look at him, wanting somehow to let him know how she felt, he kissed her. She answered his passion fully; gone was the time when she would ever hold anything back from this man.

  “Why didn’t you wake me before you left?” he asked, still holding her.

  She reached up to wipe a smear of her lipstick off his lips. “I didn’t have the heart. You were sleeping so peacefully, and you were smiling, as though you were having a beautiful dream.”

  “If I was, I’m sure I was dreaming of you.”

  As she gazed at him, her golden eyes grew suddenly solemn. “Last night was marvelous, Nicholas. Thank you.”

  Furrows appeared in his brow. “You have nothing to thank me for.”

  “Yes, I do. I haven’t stuttered once tonight. I’ve even been able to speak quickly without thinking about it.”

  Slowly the lines in his face relaxed. “That’s wonderful. Come sit down with me.”

  “Wait.” She pulled out of his arms and clasped her hands together. She dreaded this. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you. I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the island again.”

  Every line of his body and face tensed, but his voice remained soft. “You’re not leaving.”

  “I have to, and I want you to understand.”

  “Save your breath, Sydney. I’m not letting you off this island.”

  Her temper flared. “I’ll leave if I have to swim.”

  He stared at her a moment, his dark eyes flashing his own temper, then he reached for his cigarettes. Only after he had lit one did he speak again. “Are you a good swimmer?”

  His question defused her anger. “Would you please sit down? I’d like to try to explain.”

  “Are you about to tell me at last why you’re going to such great lengths to win five hundred thousand dollars?”

  She nodded. “I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Then I’ll sit down.”

  Her desire for him to understand and accept what she was about to tell him overrode any humor she might have otherwise seen in the situation. She waited until he was seated, but she remained standing.

  He raised a dark brow. “Well? I suggest you start with the man for whom you are winning the money.”

  “That’s easy. He’s my father.”

  “Your father!”

  “Just listen, Nicholas, please. My father is a good, hardworking man. Years ago, due to reasons that aren’t really important now, he had to sell a large portion of Killaroo land. Ever since, it’s been an obsession with him to get it back. Just recently he was given the chance to buy it back for one million five hundred thousand dollars. Manda, Addie, and I made a pact to earn that money. The catch is we had only two months to do it in, and our time is nearly up.”

  He let out a long whistle. “I can see one of you earning a third, maybe... maybe even two of you. But the odds against all three of you doing it must be enormous. Sydney, I hate to say this to you, but it sounds close to impossible.”

  She smiled. “Impossible is a word we Delaney’s don’t acknowledge.”

  “Apparently.” He shook his head in amazement and took another drag from his cigarette. Then he looked up at her. “Let me give you the money.”

  “No! Absolutely not. My sisters and I will do this ourselves or not at all.”

  His eyes narrowed against the smoke. “You feel that strongly about it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “I understand. What I don’t understand is why you have to leave.”

  “A few hours ago I received a message from an old friend of Manda’s. The message said she needed me.”

  He stood up. “Then I’ll go with you.”

  “No! First of all, Mike has made it very clear to me that you shouldn’t leave the island.”

  “Mike works for me, Sydney.”

  “He’s your friend and you should listen to him. Second of all, if you show up at Manda’s with me, you might upset the balance of things.”

  He bent down to grind his cigarette out. “Now what are you talking about?”

  “You don’t know all that Manda’s having to deal with. I don’t know all of it myself. But this I know—we can’t have a lot of people descending on her. We must avoid raising suspicion at all costs, for her sake and for Addie’s. That’s been the reason for all the secrecy.”

  He moved to her and grasped her upper arms in his hands. “I don’t want you to leave, dammit!”

  “I have to, but chances are I won’t be gone long.”

  “Well, then,” he muttered, “if you’re determined to leave, you’re going to spend the rest of the night with me.”

  And then he lowered his mouth to hers for a deep kiss that didn’t end until sometime just before dawn.

  * * *

  The night was moonless. The hour was two hours after midnight. The only sound that could be heard over on the wild side of the island was the surf as it crashed onto the beach. Nicholas crouched beneath a pisonia tree, using for cover the natural cave the tree’s low branches and leaves formed. He gave little thought to the gun he was carrying. To him it was a natural extension of his hand and arm. Ten years of a relatively civilized life hadn’t changed that.

  Nor did he give the inert
body of the unconscious man who lay several feet away from him any thought. He had hit the man with just enough force to knock him out for about ten minutes, having decided that that was all the time he would need.

  The other man, the one he was watching now, crept closer and closer to Nicholas’s hiding place. He wouldn’t knock this one unconscious. He wanted him totally alert and capable of answering questions. Nicholas’s gaze followed the man. Without knowing it, the man was making it incredibly easy for Nicholas to take him down, and Nicholas mentally urged him on. The man had to walk just a few more steps.... Now!

  Nicholas lunged at the man and knocked him to the ground. In less than a second Nicholas was crouched over the man, his gun digging into the man’s throat.

  “Where’s Mandarin?” Nicholas might have been talking to one of the hotel’s guests, so calmly and quietly did he speak.

  “I—I’m not sure.”

  Nicholas pressed the gun deeper into the vulnerable hollow above the man’s collarbone. “Think about it. I’m sure you’ll remember.”

  Just then gunshots were heard in the distance. The man beneath Nicholas stiffened.

  “Easy, easy,” Nicholas crooned. “The way I see it, you’ve got a fifty-fifty chance that Mandarin and the rest of her men will win that little skirmish down the beach. In which case, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” The deadly click of the gun being cocked suddenly sounded. “Or do you?”

  “I... I... I...” The man was choking.

  Nicholas eased the pressure of the gun slightly. “Did you decide you’d like to tell me something?”

  “Mandarin stayed on the yacht.”

  “How many men came ashore.”

  “Twelve, myself included.”

  “And you were supposed to kill me?”

  “No! No. Our orders were not to kill you. We were supposed to kidnap you and take you to Mandarin.”

  “So that she could kill me herself—quite slowly, I’m sure. How very vengeful of the lady.”

  “Nick! Nick! Where are you?”