The Ivory Cane

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The Ivory Cane Page 12

by Janet Dailey


  ‘Yes, sailing,’ he repeated with amused patience.

  ‘I — ’ Sabrina couldn’t get the words of refusal to come out.

  ‘I’ll pick you up bright and early Sunday morning around seven. We’ll spend the day.’

  ‘I . . . I’ll be ready.’ Her words of acceptance stumbled over each other in their rush to get out before better judgment decreed that she change her mind.

  ‘At seven a.m. Sunday,’ Bay agreed, and hung up as if he had the same thought.

  Sabrina didn’t change her mind. She had a multitude of second thoughts, but none of them had lasted long enough to bring her to the point of canceling. Any thought that her father might take the decision out of her hands had ended the same day Bay had called.

  When she had told her father of Bay’s invitation that evening, his reply had been: ‘Yes, Bay called me this afternoon to be certain I had no objections. I don’t, and I promise you I won’t worry. You’ll be in good hands. Besides, Bay can swim.’

  Sunday morning, therefore, found Sabrina aboard his trim ketch Dame Fortune. Fog and dormant wind had delayed their departure for nearly an hour.

  Now they were under sail, the stiff breeze ruffling the scarf tied around Sabrina’s head, the salty taste of ocean spray on her lips. Passing under the rust-orange span of the Golden Gate Bridge, Bay had turned southward into the open sea, past Cliff House and Seal Rocks. He continued beyond the ocean beaches, the treacherous undertow in the area restricting their use to sunbathing and walking.

  As always, Sabrina champed at the constricting life-vest tied around her even while she accepted the wisdom of the precaution whether for sighted or unsighted boaters. The deck was slanted sharply beneath her, heaving with each ocean swell, as Bay expertly took advantage of all the wind he could and still remain on course.

  The billowing wind in the canvas, the ocean waves slapping the sleek hull, and the comfortable groans of a sailing ketch at sea were the only sounds around her. She had hardly exchanged five words with Bay since they had left the Yacht Harbor. Conversation wasn’t necessary and would have been superfluous to the serene beauty of the moment. Each seemed to sense the other’s deep pleasure and nothing needed to be said.

  It was some time before Sabrina noticed there had been a change in their course. The sun was not in the place it normally would have been in their initial heading. Blocking out the song of sea and sail, she listened intently, trying to gauge by memory and sound their location and failing.

  She turned to Bay. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘In the waters of Monterey Bay near Santa Cruz. Were you daydreaming?’ he smiled with his voice.

  Instantly she visualized his ruggedly forceful features, tanned by the sun and the wind, cinnamon brown hair dampened by the salt spray and tousled by the breeze. The sun was directly overhead. His light brown eyes would be narrowed against its brilliance, crinkled at the corners because of that flashing smile she had detected in his voice. It was disturbing how vividly clear her picture of him was, so vitally alive and masculine.

  Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribs. ’daydreaming or sea-dreaming. I don’t know which,’ she murmured.

  Again there was a change in the motion of the ketch. The wind was catching less canvas and their speed had decreased. The deck beneath her had begun to right itself.

  ‘What are you doing now?’ Sabrina asked.

  ‘Taking her in close to shore. We just passed the natural bridges north of Santa Cruz. I thought we’d anchor south of Santa Cruz for lunch. There’s a small quiet cove I know about that I hope no one else has discovered.’

  Once anchored, with Sabrina giving what assistance she could, the only sound was the gentle lapping of the almost calm surf against the hull. She turned her head inquiringly toward Bay and felt his gaze moving over her face. A fiery warmth started in her midsection. She was suddenly and intensely aware that they were alone, the two of them, a man and a woman. She put brakes to that thought sharply.

  ‘I’ll go below and fix lunch.’ She pivoted abruptly away. ‘What are we having?’

  ‘Sandwiches, salad and the like. It’s all fixed,’ Bay answered. ‘What about a swim before we eat? The water is warmer here than up the coast and there aren’t any dangerous undercurrents.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Sabrina shrugged away his suggestion nervously. ‘You didn’t warn me to bring a swimming suit and I didn’t.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter.’ Bay dismissed her excuse. ‘I always keep a few swimming clothes on board in case there’s a spur-of-the-moment decision by one of my guests to take a dip in the ocean. I’m sure one of them will fit you.’

  ‘But — ’ She hadn’t been in any water other than her bathtub since before the accident.

  ‘But what?’ he prompted. ‘You can swim, can’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I can swim,’ she swallowed tightly.

  ‘I’ll point you in the right direction so you won’t head out to sea if you’re worrying about losing your reference points. Go and change.’

  He told her in which locker he kept the spare swimming suits and Sabrina went below. It was better to go swimming with the wide limits of the ocean and shore than remaining on the small deck alone with him.

  Most of the swimsuits were two-piece outfits, some bare triangles of cloth. Sabrina chose the close-fitting knit of a one-piece with diamond cut-outs at the waist crisscrossed with ties. At least in it she felt less naked when she walked up on deck. Her long hair was let down and curling around her shoulders. The water would have pulled it free of its knot eventually, so she had done it first.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said nervously.

  Bay didn’t comment on her appearance. ‘I’ve put a rope ladder over the side.’ He took her hand and led her to the rail. ‘I’ll go in the water first.’

  When he released her hand after her silent nod of agreement, Sabrina tightened the hand into a fist to retain the warmth of his touch a while longer. It was a stupid thing to do. This was not a romantic outing but a friendly one — which was why the sensations she was feeling were troubling her.

  The deck rocked slightly, followed by the sound of something slicing into the water, and Sabrina knew that Bay had not used the ladder but had dived into the water. A second later she heard him surface, turning her head in the direction of the sound. A few clean strokes brought him to the bottom of the ladder.

  ‘Come on in. The water’s fine,’ he called to her.

  While Bay held the ladder steady, Sabrina started down, her toes feeling for the rope rungs. In the water which was neither warm nor cold, Sabrina clung to the security of the ladder for a few minutes, adjusting to the eerie sensation of having nothing solid beneath her feet. The chattering of her teeth was from nerves and not the tepidly cool water.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Bay was still beside the ladder.

  ‘I think so,’ Sabrina answered, clenching her jaw so he wouldn’t hear the clatter of her teeth.

  He moved a few strokes from the ladder, then said, ‘Swim toward my voice.’

  Forcing her hand to release its death-grip on the rope, Sabrina took a deep breath and struck out toward him. At first she was hampered by nervousness and uncoordination, but they soon faded as she became accustomed to the watery environment. She could hear Bay’s firm cleaving strokes keeping pace beside her and drew strength and assurance from his presence.

  It seemed as if they had been swimming a long time. Sabrina had begun to get tired. Her reaching arms were beginning to feel heavy. She stopped to tread water and catch her breath, and Bay did the same.

  ‘How much farther?’ she asked as she swallowed down gulps of air.

  ‘About another fifteen feet before we can touch bottom.’ He sounded not at all out of breath. ‘Can you make it?’

  She didn’t answer but started out again, maintaining a slow steady rhythm that would not wear her out too quickly. Surprisingly it didn’t seem as if she had traveled any distance at all before a kicking foot scraped the sandy b
ottom. Sabrina righted herself quickly, wiping the salt water from her face and tucking her long wet hair behind her ears.

  ‘You made it,’ Bay spoke from somewhere near her left side. ‘How do you feel?’

  She smiled faintly. ‘Exhausted, but good otherwise.’

  ‘Let’s go ashore and take a breather.’

  Her hands were lightly resting on top of the almost chest-high water, letting the gentle swells roll over them. The waves would have told her which way the shore was if she had been in doubt, but Bay took her hand anyway and led her to the beach.

  ‘This beach comes equipped with its own sunning rock,’ he said as they waded on to the sandy ground, smooth and firm beneath her feet. ‘It’s a little hard, but it’s better than the sand when you don’t have a towel.’ The pressure of his hand stopped her after they had gone a few yards. ‘Here.’

  Before Sabrina could protest, his hands were around her waist and he was lifting her on to the hard, warm surface of the stone. Her own fingers had automatically gripped the sinewy wetness of his arms for balance. Her flesh burned where his hands had covered the open diamond patches of the swimsuit waistline. It was several seconds before her racing heart settled to a more respectable pace. By then he was on the rock, too.

  ’did you have a good time last night?’ he asked after he had moved into a comfortable position. He was sitting. Sabrina could tell by the direction of his voice.

  ‘Last night?’ she frowned, and shifted more fully on to the rock. Then she remembered. ‘Yes, I did.’ Actually it had been a quiet evening. She and Sally had sat around and talked, listening to records part of the time.

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘Nowhere, Sally and I stayed at the house,’ she shrugged, turning her face to the warmth of the sun, letting it chase away the shivers on her damp skin.

  ‘An evening of gossipy girl-talk, is that it?’ There was a mocking smile in his tone.

  Sabrina wasn’t certain whether he was laughing at her uneventful evening or that she had chosen it over one with him. From what she knew of Bay, the first seemed more likely.

  ‘Men gossip as much as if not more than women,’ she replied.

  He didn’t argue the point. ‘I suppose it’s true of an equal number in each sex.’

  An awkward silence followed. At least it was awkward for Sabrina. She was too aware of Bay, physically aware of him. She leaned back on her hands.

  ‘The sun feels good,’ she suggested.

  ‘I think I’ll stretch out and enjoy it,’ Bay stated.

  At the same time that he spoke, his movements were carrying out his words. And the silence that Sabrina had not wanted reigned, broken only by the slow rush of the ocean on to shore. There was little for her to do except to follow suit.

  Her searching hands found a small, elevated hump in the rock behind her, a natural headrest, and Sabrina lay down on her back. For a long time she listened to the sound of Bay’s even breathing. Her own was shallow, her chest muscles constricted with tension. Finally the heat of the sun and the rock coaxed her into relaxing.

  Sabrina didn’t fall asleep, but she did drift into that strange state of half-sleep. She was aware of her surroundings and the man beside her, yet deaf to them at the same time. Then something brought all of her senses alert. Her eyes blinked uselessly as she tried to determine what had disturbed her. She turned her head slightly in Bay’s direction and accidentally brushed his hand with her cheek. Then her sensitive nerve ends transmitted the message that he was holding a lock of her silky brown hair.

  ’do you know this is the first time I’ve ever seen you wear your hair down?’ he mused softly.

  ‘I — I don’t like to wear it down. It gets in the way.’ There was an odd tremor in her voice as she guessed how close he was to her. She could almost feel the heat of his body stretched beside hers. His voice had come from a position slightly above her, indicating that he was possibly lying on his side, an elbow propping him up.

  Bay didn’t seem to pay any attention to her explanation.

  ‘When you wear your hair up in that little topknot, you look poised and sophisticated, a well-bred young queen. With your hair down like this,’ he twined the strand around his finger, ‘there’s a gamin vulnerability about you.’

  A pulse was beating wildly in her temples. It was impossible to roll away from him. The edge of the rock was too near.

  ’do you think we should be heading back?’ Her throat was taut, making her voice likewise.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he mocked. ’don’t you like my comments on your hairstyle?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Sabrina shook her head determinedly, loosing the lock of hair against her bare shoulder. ‘I’m going to wear it up because it’s the easiest to take care of, regardless of how you prefer it.’ It was a challenging statement, but she didn’t care.

  Bay reached back and gave her hair a sharp tug. ‘Then you’ll probably be sorry to hear that I prefer that silky knot. The way it is now would be appropriate for the privacy of a bedroom.’

  The sensual implication of his statement drew a sharp breath from Sabrina. Her heightened awareness of his masculinity made this type of conversation impossible. She wasn’t capable of idle flirtation, this suggestive playing with words. She started to push herself back into a half-sitting position to escape his nearness, but Bay was already straightening to his feet.

  ‘We’ll head back,’ he said as he towered above her.

  Sabrina thankfully swung her legs to the edge of the rock. Bay was on the sand, his hands gripping her waist to lift her down before she could slide the short distance to the sand. Straining away from his unwanted assistance, her effort to keep from landing too close to him brought a heel down on a partially buried outcropping of the rock. The unexpected jarring pain sent her against his chest. His hold tightened to steady her.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Her unspoken answer was negative. It couldn’t be otherwise when the nakedness of his muscled torso and thighs pressed against her was playing havoc with her heart. Soft, curling chest hairs sensually tickled her palms. His head was inclined toward her, warm breath stirring a wing of her dark bangs.

  The desire was strong to slide her arms around his broad shoulders and nestle her head against his neck. To resist the nearly overpowering impulse, she moistened her lips nervously and tipped her head back.

  ‘I’m all right,’ she assured him in a shaking voice. ‘I stepped on a rock or something.’

  A sudden breath of wind tossed a thin lock of hair across her face. It clung to the gleaming wetness of her lips. Sabrina started to push it away, but her hand was only part way there when Bay’s fingers drew it gently away, pushing it back with the rest of her long hair.

  His hand remained along the side of her face, his thumb absently caressing her cheekbone. She held her breath, motion suspended under the magical spell of his touch.

  The heady warmth of his firm mouth was barely felt against hers before Sabrina sharply twisted her head away. Her defences couldn’t endure a casual kiss.

  ’don’t, Bay, please!’ she requested stiffly.

  ‘I wasn’t going to hurt you.’ Her words brought a rigid stillness to his touch as he misinterpreted the reason for the shudders quivering through her.

  ‘I simply don’t want you to kiss me,’ Sabrina stated, pulling free of his unresisting arms and taking several quick steps away until common sense warned her that she couldn’t see where she was going.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around her, trying to fight off the chill that shivered over her where the warmth of his body had been.

  Bay walked over to stand beside her. She could feel his eyes boring into her. Her lashes fluttered downward in case her sightless eyes mirrored the heady sensations swimming in her mind. For an electric moment, she hardly dared to breathe.

  ‘We’d better head back to the boat.’ The savage bite of his words betrayed a tightly leashed anger. Sabrina couldn’t tell if it
was directed at himself or at her.

  The hand that gripped hers and led her toward the water was cold and impersonal. Sabrina was glad when the water became deep enough to swim and he had to release her. She hadn’t thought it possible that his touch, which usually started a fire, could chill her to the bone.

  It was not a leisurely swim back. Sabrina set herself a pace that took every ounce of her strength to maintain. It was a form of self-punishment for being so foolish as to let Bay persuade her to come to this outing when wisdom had dictated that she stop seeing him.

  She was completely spent when Bay reached out and pulled her to the rope ladder, but she climbed aboard without his assistance. She paused on deck to catch her breath.

  ‘If we’d been anchored another ten feet away, you would never have made it. What were you trying to prove?’ Bay snapped.

  ‘Nothing.’ Sabrina averted her head and self-consciously felt her way to the steps leading below deck.

  ‘When you’re dressed, you can get the lunch ready. I think you can find everything. In the meantime, I’ll get us under way,’ he ordered tersely.

  ’don’t you . . . Don’t you want to eat first?’ she faltered.

  ‘I think we’re both in a hurry to get back, aren’t we?’ There was a derisive challenge in his voice that dared her to deny it. When she didn’t reply, he added grimly, ‘I’ll enjoy the food as much as you once we’re under sail.’

  Actually Sabrina found the food tasteless. Most of it wanted to stick in her throat, but she forced as much of it down as she could. There was no atmosphere of friendliness on the return trip. Their mutual silence was brittle with tension.

  Bay’s acceptance of her polite words of thanks at the conclusion of the day was as cool and aloof as her offer had been. When the iron gate closed behind him, Sabrina knew why she was so totally miserable. She had plenty of time to ponder the reason on the way back. She had fallen in love with Bay Cameron. She was literally a blind fool.

  Nine

 

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