Night, Sea, And Stars

by Heather Graham

  Skye gently extracted her wrist. “He won’t go for an annulment, Lisa. He loves Chris.”

  Skye was shaking as she left Lisa’s apartment. And drained.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “So, why was Skye running out of here today?”

  Kyle lifted a bleary eye to his son. He was on his sixth Scotch. Chris was on his fourth. Kyle had explained every legal procedure he had open to him, and the two had openly discussed all options. They sat with feet propped on the elegant coffee table, ties loosened, tailored appearances in dishabille.

  “That,” Kyle said dryly, “is something I do not care to discuss.” Good Lord, he thought, I’m getting drunk. So why not? I lost my son; I regained my son. And it’s been a hell of a day… Lisa attacking Skye, Skye trying to run out… “And speaking of Skye,” he suddenly growled to Chris, “I think it's about time you tell me where she is!”

  “Right here.”

  Kyle heard the dry voice from the doorway. He and Chris immediately tried to sit straight, like guilty teenagers. It was no good. She approached them with high-arched, imperious brows, noting with an amused disdain the condition of the father and son.

  How was it possible, Kyle wondered defensively, for such a small woman to create such a regal presence. He was suddenly vulnerable, suddenly frightened. He stood, managing to waver only slightly as he took up a position at the mantel. “Well, well, Ms. Delaney. Welcome back to Montfort. I would have given you about another ten minutes, and then I would have set out to see that you lived up to your side of the bargain.”

  “Dad!” Chris gasped.

  “Stay out of this, Chris. Where the hell have you been, Skye?”

  Her brow rose a shade higher. “Out, Mr. Jagger.”

  “Out where?” Kyle thundered.

  He was stunned to have his demand answered with a tinkle of melodious laughter. “Taking care of business,” she replied with a wink at Chris. “And the business went very well.” She walked straight to Kyle, a slow step, graceful, light. She stood on tiptoe and wriggled her nose slightly as she planted a little kiss on his lips and laughed again, leaving Kyle dumbfounded.

  “Scotch, huh? What brought on this little overindulgence?”

  Chris cleared his throat. “Dad and I were talking, Skye. We got a little carried away. We, um, well, we, uh, had some rather serious things to discuss.”

  “Oh,” Skye murmured, her eyes leaving Kyle’s for a moment.

  “I told him to go for an annulment, Skye,” Chris offered, his words a bit slurred.

  Skye returned her eyes to Kyle’s. “No annulments,” she said clearly. “And no bargains.”

  “What?” Kyle demanded roughly, taking her shoulders between forceful hands. “What’s going on here?”

  “Dad, I told Skye this afternoon what I told you.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Kyle began, but he was suddenly interrupted by another intervention—Michael walking into the room. He had the same question for all of them. “What’s going on here?”

  “A couple of drunks!” Skye said dryly. “Michael, I’ll take care of Kyle. Can you get Chris to his room? And someone should tell your mother that dinner will be a bit delayed…”

  Before anyone could protest, Skye was leading Kyle from the drawing room. “Think you can make the steps?” she asked impishly.

  “Of course I can make the steps!” he roared. “And when I get up them, I’m going to damn well want a few explanations.”

  “Really?” Skye murmured. “Well certainly, Mr. Jagger. You’ll get all the explanations you want.”

  But she had no intention of answering him immediately. With their bedroom door closed behind them, Skye began to move briskly. “A good soak in the whirlpool is what you need, Mr. Jagger,” she told him, leading him with efficient steps to the bathroom where she set the jets into action and turned with purpose to strip his loosened tie and methodically work at the buttons of his shirt.

  “Skye—”

  “I’ll talk to you after you’re in the tub!” she informed him.

  He scowled and warily stepped away from the gentle fingers that were such a tantalizing touch upon his flesh. Glaring at her, he dropped his trousers and briefs and stepped into the whirlpool.

  “I’m in the tub,” he announced, “now come over here and tell me what’s going on.”

  Skye smiled and moved to the rim of the deep sunken tub, only to lose her smile to a gasp as she realized Kyle certainly wasn’t as inebriated as she had thought—he snaked out his hand and caught her arm. “Now, Skye, I’d appreciate an explanation.”

  “You already know most of this,” Skye murmured. “Chris told me you weren’t his father. And that you were protecting him. I never realized, Kyle, I couldn’t understand…” Her voice was catching in her throat, and he was still staring at her. “I decided to go see Lisa myself. So I did.”

  “What,” Kyle asked hoarsely, “did you say to Lisa?”

  Skye lowered her eyes. “I told her that I loved you, and that I didn’t care how long she dragged out the divorce. I told her I would live with you as long as you wanted—”

  “And did you mean it?”

  “I—”

  “Look at me, Skye. Did you mean it?”

  Skye lifted her eyes to his. “Yes,” she said softly, her voice very steady. “I meant it.”

  “Then come here and tell me that.”

  Oblivious to the fact that she was still fully clothed, Skye moved into the shallow jetting water and into his arms. She slipped her arms around his neck and smiled into his eyes, feeling the gentle comfort of his hold around the small of her back. “I love you,” she said. “And I’m so sorry, Kyle.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me you love me again. You’ve never said it before, Skye.”

  “I love you,” she told him He kissed her gently, massaging her back, moving his hands under her sweater to touch her swollen abdomen. “I love you, Kyle, so much,” she said again, after she had caught her breath. “Oh, Kyle, why didn’t you just explain to me about Chris?”

  Kyle smoothed her damp hair. “I couldn’t tell you about Chris, because of Chris. No one knew—except Lisa, myself, and Michael.”

  “It makes no difference to him, Kyle. You are his father.”

  "I know that, Skye. I know that now.” He smiled at her. "And I finally know that you love me.”

  Skye lowered her eyes, raised them again. “It’s rather difficult to tell a man you love him when the majority of the time he behaves as if you were the enemy.”

  "I didn’t know how to keep you, Skye. I thought that you still loved Trainor, that you were only with me because of the child—”

  “Ted!” Skye exclaimed. “Oh, Kyle! It was all over with Ted, not because of the baby, but because of you. I loved you, Kyle. I couldn’t go to him. Even when I believed there was no way you could escape Lisa, I couldn’t be with anyone else. And then, when you came to my rescue in Sydney, I still didn’t know how you felt. Especially when you found out about the baby. You were so hard, Kyle. You didn’t speak to me unless it was in connection with the gold—”

  “Skye." Kyle laughed. “I wanted to speak to you, touch you, hold you—attack you! But things were rather tense, if you recall. And you weren’t behaving as if you were dying for my embrace. I didn’t think Virginia would appreciate an assault in her living room!”

  “No, I guess not,” Skye murmured, burying her face into the wet slickness of his neck. “Oh, Kyle, I do love you!”

  “Honey, I love you. So much that it was driving me half crazy.”

  “Oh, Kyle, it really doesn't matter.”

  “I wish I could have been there. I never wanted you to talk to Lisa because I didn't want you hurt.”

  “Oh, Kyle, nothing can hurt me as long as I know you really love me. I was so afraid of your marriage! I didn’t want you marrying me just because I was pregnant…”

  Kyle chuckled softly. “I’ll let you in on a secret. On the island I was hoping you’d become
pregnant. In fact, I worked rather hard at it. A pleasurable task, of course!”

  “Why you… you…” Skye sputtered, searching for a suitable name.

  Kyle laughed. “You’ll think of something. I’m sure. But don’t resent me for it too much. I didn’t know if we would ever get off the island at the time, and if we did, I assumed I would be divorced within a few months. It never occurred to me that Lisa would change her tune.” He frowned suddenly. “I’m worried, Skye. This court action with Lisa may take us ages. I want to be married before our child is born. I know how much it means to you. You know, Skye, an annulment just might be faster.”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” Skye protested.

  “It was a bargain I made with you,” Kyle reminded her.

  “We don't need bargains anymore, Kyle. And I really don't care how long the divorce takes. Just as long as I know that you won’t wind up hating me because of what I’m doing to your life. Or tiring of me—”

  “Tiring of you! If I were given a hundred lifetimes, Skye, I could never, never lire of you.”

  “Oh, Kyle…”

  He kissed her again, his touch with the flow of the water gentle and reverent… and stimulating. She moaned as the deep tenderness of his kiss suddenly swirled into something more erotic along with the driving pulse of the jets. The hands that touched her began to join with the wild cascade, as he tenderly helped her to remove her clothing.

  He broke the kiss for a moment, lifting her high, bringing her down over him. He smiled as he held her around the rib cage, his thumbs free to graze her nipples.

  “One last question for the moment, Ms. Delaney,” he said, his eyes brilliant. “Are you sure you want to get tied up with an old man?”

  Skye’s eyes widened with surprise. Then she laughed. “I just love the elderly sort,” she murmured huskily.

  “Good," Kyle returned. “Another question—”

  “You said just one.”

  “So I did, but this is extremely pertinent. Do pregnant ladies mind the fathers of their children making love to them in whirlpools?”

  “I certainly don’t propose to speak for all,” Skye answered him, her eyes—the intriguing topaz eyes that had bewitched him so long ago—heavily lidded and enticingly sensual, “But this particular pregnant lady would just love the father of her child to make love to her in the whirlpool…”

  “I think,” Kyle murmured, “that we’ll be very late for dinner.”

  “And I think,” Skye returned, adjusting her body to his with a shudder of pure pleasure, “that absolutely no one will mind.” Then neither was thinking. The pulse of the whirlpool carried them away in its steaming tempo…

  The ringing of the phone was strident. Jostled from a luxurious sleep by the sound, Skye burrowed closer into Kyle’s shoulder, wishing the noise would stop. They had stayed awake so late last night… deciding to have dinner in their room, lighting the fire, relaxing before it on the thick rug and slowly sipping hot cinnamon brandy while they talked and talked and made love again and again.

  The phone kept ringing. Kyle groaned. “Why isn’t someone answering it?” he muttered, as he groped for the receiver on the nightstand without opening his eyes.

  “It’s probably too early for anyone to be up,” Skye murmured drowsily in return, settling comfortably against his chest.

  “Hello,” Kyle muttered tonelessly into the receiver. Skye was suddenly jostled from her pleasant position as Kyle sat bolt upright in the bed, his eyes miraculously sharp. He was doing most of the listening, but as Skye frowned in question to him, he shook his head, his expression tense; he wasn’t ready to be interrupted.

  What was it? Skye wondered, worry quickly dispelling the contented laziness that had been hers. Her frown deepened as she listened to Kyle utter a stunned “Why?” and then several yeses, and then, right before clicking down the receiver, a “Fine!”

  “What?” Skye demanded, forcefully tilting his chin toward her. “Is something wrong?”

  Kyle started laughing suddenly, slipping his arms around her and drawing her so tight that she could hear the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “No! My love. Something is right! Very right! That was Lisa’s lawyer. She has decided to sign the papers today.”

  Skye struggled against him, raising herself off his chest with her palms to stare into his eyes incredulously. “Why did she suddenly agree?” Skye demanded. “I told her yesterday you’d never go for the annulment.”

  Kyle smiled, his eyes very tender as he touched her hair, and then drew a soft line over the fine bone of her cheek. “You also told her you were staying no matter what. Don’t you see, Skye? Lisa would never let on to you, but she knew then that she had lost. You weren’t just another woman to come and go. You were a permanent fixture in my life—Skye, you are my life! Lisa knows I’ll eventually get a divorce. By agreeing now, she’ll come out of it a lot better.”

  “Oh, Kyle!” Skye leaned down and brushed his lips with a feather kiss. “You mean it’s all over?”

  He frowned, nibbling a corner of his lip. “No, Skye, it’s not all over, it’s still going to take time. But it will be a couple of months now, not years, which she might have been able to drag it all out to. It won’t be all that long, darling…”

  Skye laughed and slipped her head back down to his chest, running her fingers through the coarse tufts of hair. “I told you I don’t care, Kyle. I’m happy that it’s going to be it a little easier at long last, but it still doesn't matter. I will wait, forever…”

  “Hey!” Kyle said, nudging her. “Are you going back to sleep on me? After news like that?”

  “Well, we didn't get any sleep last night,” Skye reminded him.

  “Lord!” he groaned. “Where’s your sense of romance? Ah, hell, I guess I’ll just have to have enough for two.”

  But Skye was laughing as he rolled her over. Her arms slipped around his neck. “Oh, Kyle,” she murmured, eyes shining, “I do love you…”

  February 28, San Francisco

  Skye laid down her pencil and rubbed her eyes. She had fully intended to devote her concentration to the bracelet sketch, but intent and action were two different things.

  She stood and stretched, wincing at the dull pain in her lower back. It was being very persistent today.

  She walked to the bay window and looked out upon the lush landscaping. Spring was coming, and she was glad. She had loved Christmas at Montfort, and winter had been beautiful. But though she was happy, winter had been a time of waiting. Kyle had been asked to return to Sydney in January—Smithfield had been apprehended and Kyle’s testimony had been necessary for the trial. He had gently refused to take her with him—the trip was too long and her doctors would not be pleased. She had not wanted Kyle to go; it was over, she had told him. And she had worried about his temper and his anger and he knew it.

  “I’m not going for revenge, Skye,” he assured her. “But the man would have killed us without blinking an eye. I have to make sure he’s put away. Think of what he could do to others.”

  And she had agreed, but it had been hard waiting for him to return. But his trip home brought a very pleasant surprise for both Skye and Michael—Kyle returned with Virginia. And on February tenth, very quietly, Virginia became Mrs. Michael Jagger.

  Skye smiled with the memory of her conversation with Virginia. Her sister-in-law had told her, “Skye, I’ll never forget Steven, he’ll be a part of me all my life…”

  “Virginia!” Skye had laughed, “Don’t be absurd! I’m thrilled about you and Michael. I get to keep you as a sister-in-law! Steven will always be a part of both of us—a cherished part.”

  Skye knew that both Virginia and Michael had wanted to tactfully delay their wedding until after hers. But living in the same house had been very difficult for them. And Michael, at thirty-five, didn’t consider himself particularly young.

  The dull pain suddenly shot across Skye’s midriff, making her gasp. She frowned, considering calling the doctor. She wasn’t
due for several weeks.

  Skye grimaced, shrugged, and returned to the chair by her desk. The pain went away, a band that constricted, slowly let loose. Skye picked up her pencil again, but she didn’t even glance at the paper. She nervously chewed on the eraser.

  Today was it, the end of waiting.

  At this very minute Kyle was in the courtroom with Lisa. He would return today a free man.

  Skye dropped the pencil and began to pace the room. She could have gone, but she hadn’t wanted to be there. Only Michael had gone with his brother. Chris, like her, had preferred to be absent. And Mary Jagger and Virginia had decided that this, of all days, was the one when they wanted to take over the kitchen and create some type of Polynesian delicacy Virginia had discovered on her honeymoon.

  I think I’ll go downstairs, Skye decided. She had wanted to be alone, but now she wanted company.

  She threw open her workshop door and headed across the balcony to the stairs, only to pause before taking the first step. The same pain, not quite as strong as the first, assailed her. She held her breath, clutching the banister. How long had it been since the first? Fifteen, twenty minutes? A little more than that…

  As she stood waiting, the front door flew open. Skye watched as Kyle strode in, his footsteps sharp and assertive on the marble. He paused in the entryway. As if by instinct he raised his head, saw Skye, and smiled, his eyes brilliant and warm, his grin spread handsomely across rakish features. Skye smiled in return, her heart taking on the little flutter she still felt after all this time at the sight of him. He was all male today, devastatingly masculine as he tilted his chin in her direction, hands on hips, legs spread, broad shoulders emphasized by the tailored cut of his dark charcoal sports jacket.

  “It’s all over,” he told her. He lifted a beckoning hand. “Come here.”

  Skye sailed on down the staircase and into his arms, wincing a bit at her awkward angle as she kissed him. She wasn’t actually big as a house, but she often felt like a small elephant.