by Ann Cristy
Doddering to the kitchen like a woman old before her time; she kept one hand clutched to her head. She had to hope it wouldn't explode before the capsules and hot drink did their work.
Groggy, she stared at the apparition in front of her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked Dev through lips as stiff as pasteboard.
He turned from the stove, a steaming cup in his hand. "Here you are, love, your hot drink. It's lemon, honey, and hot water. Just what you need." Dev inclined his head at her, his eyes widening as they roved her from head to foot.
"Get out of here," she rasped at him, nausea making her sway.
Dev was across the room in two strides. He put the cup down on the counter, then swept her up into his arms.
Cle was too weak to argue with him and her head lolled on his shoulder. "I'm never sick. Put me down at once."
"Don't lie. You get violently ill when you have one of your headaches. You haven't had one in ages. I hope you see the folly of leaving me. It's made you sick."
"Has not." Cle moaned as he put her down on the bed and went back for the hot drink.
Dev returned, lifted her, holding her about the shoulders while she drank. "There. Now you'll sleep. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything."
"Just go away. Please," she begged, then groaned and turned on her side.
Dev laughed. "Go to sleep, you ungrateful brat."
Dev's laugh had never had that shaved rock sound before she thought. And then sleep took her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cle didn't wake refreshed but she did wake free of the headache. The noises that wakened her weren't the familiar ones that she had begun to associate with a Sydney commercial area. As she looked foggily at the clock and saw that it was past noon, she assumed the caterers were collecting the last of their things. God! She jerked to a sitting position, yawning. Was everything where they could find it?
She crawled out of bed, rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and rinse out her dry as dust mouth.
Still bleary eyed and fumbling with the tie on the cotton wrapper she'd slipped on, she started down the hall leading to the kitchen area. A thump from the second bedroom made her pause, frowning. What would the caterers have left in the bedroom?
Smothering another yawn, she pushed open the door and stopped. She gasped as she watched Dev carry an armful of suits toward the closet and hang them there. She must have made some sound because he turned to look her way as he hung the last suit.
"What... what are you doing?" Cle licked her dry lips, a horrid thought taking shape in her mind.
"These are my clothes." Dev's smile had all the charm of a placid demon. "I'm hanging up my clothes," he said in a measured tone as though he were talking to a mental incompetent.
"Then you can just damn well unhang them and get them the hell out of my apartment." Cle's voice was a high pitched roar as she catapulted herself toward the offending jackets hanging in the closet.
Dev caught her around the waist before she could reach her target. "Can I assume that your headache is better this morning?" That hard smile was on his face again and making Cle feel as though she were doing a balancing act on a sword.
Of its own accord her body began melting toward Dev. Gritting her teeth, she looked up at him from the prison of his arms. "Get your hands off me and leave my apartment."
"No." Dev set her away from him, but banded her arms between his strong hands. "I'm staying, my love. I'm staying with you. And you can bloody well swear, rant, scream, rage, throw things. It won't matter. I'm not leaving."
"I'll call Jaime... and Max... and Alistair!" Cle gasped, her hands shaking, not with anger, but with a need to touch Dev. This weakness of hers inflamed her more.
"Call them, please." Dev's teeth bared in a smile that had all the winsomeness of a piranha. "It would give me great pleasure to change the color of the great Toner's eyes or to loosen your Max Brainerd's teeth. I would really like that type of exertion, dear Cle." He let goof her and moved toward his cases.
"You can't fight! Besides, it would be three against one. They would throw you out." Cle silently cursed the tremor in her voice.
He swung around. "Call them. Let's put it to the test, shall we?" The green ice of his eyes made the upward curve of his mouth look like Satan's grin.
"You can't stay here," Cle blustered. "Go back to England and Larren."
"So you remember me speaking of Larren? Of wanting to show it to you?" He spat the words at her over his shoulder.
"I don't want to talk about that." Her hands balled into fists as she watched him put shoe cases into the closet. "I want you out of here."
"No." All at once Dev was back across the room before she even guessed his intention to move. "Come along to the kitchen. I've fixed you a light breakfast. When you're through, I've arranged for us to have a picnic lunch delivered to us by the caterers. Then we're going to the beach. We'll do some surfing."
"You don't surf." Cle glared up at him as he marched her to the kitchen, her fingers trying to pry his from her arm.
"Of course I surf," Dev said, pushing her into a kitchen chair and getting a plate of toast from the stove.
"Oh, God!" Cle groaned, munching and glaring, munching and glaring. "I hope a shark gets you, but he'd probably spit you right up again and gag for an hour."
"My, my, aren't you complimentary this morning?" Dev observed, his face bland. "Tummy upset?" He looked interested.
"Yes.. .no.. .It's none of your business what my stomach is doing." She wanted to pierce him through with her fork. Instead she stabbed the helpless egg on her plate. "Where did you learn how to surf?" she mumbled still looking at her lacerated egg.
"When I attended Harvard some classmates and I took a long break in California. Then, when I was based in the States, I used to take vacations in Hawaii. The surf at Waimea is outstanding." Dev answered, his tones mild.
"Peachy for you."
"Yes, it was."
"Don't you be so damned friendly." Cle choked on a bit of egg then swallowed the hot coffee too fast, making her cough increase. "And don't you... dare... pat... me on the back." She glared at him through watering eyes. "You are to get out of this apartment."
"Don't be boringly repetitive, darling." Dev rose, clearing both his things and hers from the table, flabbergasting Cle who had never known him to pick up anything.
"And don't think you're fooling me with this helpful boy routine," she said darkly, following him down the hall to the bedroom area. "I haven't said I'll go, you know."
"You have a choice, love." Dev's tones were silky. "You can either walk by my side or I'll wrap you in towels and carry you over my shoulder like a laundry bag."
Cle drew herself up to her full height, wishing for once that Dev were five foot three instead of well over six feet tall. "You can't threaten me, buster. You had better remember your law about coercing people."
"So sue me, but if you aren't ready in ten minutes I will bundle you like a parcel." He turned to walk into the room that he had the nerve to call his, when he paused. "And don't bother trying any cutesy, Yankee tricks, because I'm through fooling with you."
"Don't you dare insult my New York Yankee heritage ... you.. you... Limey you..." She finished by shouting because Dev shut the door in her face.
Cle went through several battle plans while she was getting into the jeans and halter top that would be suitable to wear to the beach. She decided that she would drown him. No jury would convict her! She'd probably receive a medal for getting rid of a public nuisance. She rolled her bikini into a towel and went to the door.
Dev was waiting for her. She steamed by him, chin in the air, not even speaking to him as they descended in the elevator.
She glared from him to the silvery black Porsche, wondering how the devil he had gotten the car in such a short time. She locked her teeth together to prevent herself asking him.
They rode in silence. The sun was so dazzling it hurt the eyes.
The ocean and sky were a hot blue that both warmed and cooled the spirit.
To Cle's surprise there were few people at the beach Dev chose. "Are you sure it's all right to swim here? There are places along here where the currents are tricky. Alistair Nivens told me—"
He interrupted. "I've checked with several persons including your friend Nivens about this beach. It's considered safe, but it is also private. Come along. Let me take your hand. These rocks could be treacherous."
"I'll be fine on my own, thank you."
"Cle." His voice sounded like iron filings.
"Oh, all right."
When they reached the flat area of the beach and Cle would have jumped the last few feet from the rocks, Dev stopped her with a hand on her arm. He jumped first, put down the bag he carried and turned to her with his arms held out.
"Jump."
"I can get down myself." She felt suddenly breathless.
"Jump, Cle."
She did. His arms closed around her at once, her body was swung free of the rocks and was allowed to slide a short way down Dev's body. When they were face to face, nose to nose, and eye level, Dev stopped the downward movement of her body.
"I want a truce today," he growled softly, his breath touching her lips.
"Too bad about what you want," Cle squeaked, pressing her hands against his rock like shoulders but having no luck in pushing him away.
"Do we stay like this? Or do you tell me that you're going to pull in your horns and mind your waspish temper?"
"Me, waspish?" Cle struggled harder. "What about your acid tongue, Mr. Attorney, sir?" "We both try. Agreed?"
Cle let out a shuddering sigh and nodded, not looking him in the eye. "All right. It is a beautiful day."
"Good girl." Dev laughed. Before she could guess his intention, his mouth was clamped to hers. The kiss was short and hard. When he released her she would have staggered but Dev's arm was there. To Cle's eye he seemed totally unaffected by the kiss.
She wanted to punch him for kissing her—and ask him to do it again! God! The thought made her take off at a run toward the water, leaving Dev to gather up the things she had dropped.
Over her shoulder she saw him coming at a slower pace. She stopped, taking the beach bag from her shoulder. She looked around frowning, searching for a place to slip on her suit. There were no other people in sight. Still, there was Dev.
A cluster of rocks off to one side offered the most privacy. She walked toward them, swinging her beach bag in her hand.
"Don't bother changing there for my sake, darling,"
Dev drawled behind her. "I've seen your lovely form so many times. Remember?"
"I thought you wanted a truce today." Cle didn't look back, feeling the heat rise in her face at the thought of just how many times Dev had seen her nude.
"Get changed, Cle."
Rebelliously she stepped behind the rocks. "There's no way we can have a truce," she said to herself. "A double murder maybe, but not a truce."
Dev wasn't on the beach nor in the water. Cle guessed he'd gone back to the car to get the surfboards. She ran into the water, gasping at the first shock of cold then reveling in it. When Dev appeared with the boards, she quickly went back to shore. Some of the eagerness she had felt the first time she surfed infected her now. Together she and Dev paddled out.
He came close to her and signaled for her to turn and paddle gently. She nodded as he indicated the waves coming up behind them.
When she looked over her shoulder and saw the rollers coming at her, she knew that these were much bigger waves than the ones she had dealt with at the Nivens's beach.
Heart in her mouth, she realized all at once that Dev assumed her experience to be greater than it really was. How he would laugh if he knew that during her one day of surfing she had managed to stand fully upright only once.
Dev signaled her that the next wave would be the one they could take together. It looked like a watery building coming at her.
Cle wanted to shout "no," but instead she found herself nodding and beginning to paddle harder toward the beach that now seemed a hundred miles away. As she edged her knees up, her mouth went dry in the midst of all that roaring water. From her peripheral vision she could see Dev on his feet, bent and balancing, the board like a bronco beneath him. She could tell, though, that he was watching her.
The tunnel of water behind her sounded like a railroad train and made her knees weak. She gathered her courage and forced her body to straighten.
For unbelievable seconds she rode that water, her heart hammering in her throat, her hands flung out on either side of her, her knees bent. For milliseconds she thought she might be able to hold on, to ride it to the beach. Elated, she risked a glance at Dev, who was riding his board, body fully relaxed, but his face grim as he watched her. All at once her board flipped into a near vertical position as she lost the curl. She felt herself plowed down in the horrendous torrent. All her training in swimming didn't prepare her for this! Panic gripped her as she swirled in the foaming green depths. Yet the years of training did make her kick upward even as her body was trapped in the roiling vortex.
Something grabbed her and held on. Lungs bursting, white sparks exploding on black velvet behind her eyes, she was pulled upward and shoreward. Air! Blessed air. She didn't even fight it when the water rolled her over and over. She was able to lift her head up because Dev was holding her tight around the middle.
They were tossed onto the beach like so much flotsam, their boards riding shoreward just a few yards away. When Dev swept her up into his arms and carried her to the blanket he had spread for them, his face looked carved from ivory, his tan gone sallow.
He came down with her to the blanket, not releasing her. '"Are you all right?"
"Yes. Boy, those waves sure shave the rough edges, don't they?" She tried to smile but her lips were wobbly.
"Just how many times have you been surfing?" Dev's question sounded like his best courtroom approach.
Cle decided not to hedge after looking into those emerald eyes. "Once."
"And that was when you went with Brainerd to the Nivens's place? That was the time you talked about New Year's Eve?"
Cle felt she should have answered, "Yes, Your Honor," but she merely nodded.
Dev closed his eyes and sank back on his heels. When he opened them again, his eyes were an opaque green. "You could have died out there. Do you know that?" His throat moved as though it was trying to disgorge a stone.
Cle lifted her hand, touching his thigh. "But you saved me. Dev. I'm fine."
"You could have died out there," he repeated, his voice very hoarse and low.
Alarmed, Cle tried to sit up, but all at once Dev was on her, forcing her body down, his mouth pressed to her face his arms gripping her hard.
"Don't say anything," he rasped out. "Don't you say one damn thing."
When Dev finally released her, he flung himself backward on the sand, one arm over his face.
Feeling helpless, Cle lay there. His thigh was pressed to hers and she knew an urgent need for that warm body of his.
Dev sat up at last, his face still having a pewter cast under his tan. He looked out over the ocean for long moments.
Cle let her eyes touch his every pore, loving that firm muscled body better than her own.
When he turned in a jerky motion to look down at her, she could feel the blood stealing up her neck and over her cheeks. He said nothing, just stared at her. He let out a long, whistled breath. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes. I'm fine. Really I am." She wanted to wipe that bleak look from his face, thaw the green ice in his eyes.
He nodded once. "We'll have some fruit. I told the caterer to include those pink melons he brought to the party." Dev's smile looked static. It seemed to take him a long time to slice the melon, but Cle was sure that she was mistaken when she saw a tremor in his hand.
Dev kept feeding her more and more slices of melon until between the two of them, the
y finished it. They rested a while. Dev abruptly rose to his feet, brushing some sand from his thigh. He didn't look at her when he spoke. "Come on, Cle, we're going in again. This time I'll take you on my board until you get the feel of it."
Cle stood, looking at him, wondering if he was angry with her. "Fine with me."
His head swiveled toward her. "You're not afraid then?"
"No." Cle knew it was true. She would never be afraid as long as Dev was with her. Even as the thought mushroomed in her mind, she groaned to herself.
Cle followed him out into the water and as he gestured to her, she bellied down on his board, feeling his body on her legs. She tried to paddle in concert with Dev's strokes and was amazed at how rapidly they glided into deep water.
Dev turned them, then they were both looking over their shoulders as the waves rushed toward them. The one that Dev chose seemed small compared to some others but it was still a mountain of water to Cle.
His hands were at her waist. She marveled at the strength of his legs balancing both of them on the board until he had her in the proper crouch. As they entered the curl, Cle could feel Dev's feather touch guiding her stance. Exhilaration filled her as the board lifted and swept shoreward at an impossible speed. She and Dev were the only persons on the planet! The sound of her laughter was a whisper in the roar but it seemed Dev heard it because she felt those long fingers squeeze her waist.
As the board sagged shoreward, she sank down, falling off the board with Dev almost on the beach.
"That was wonderful, marvelous..." She gasped, laughter bubbling in her.
Dev's smile was slow in coming but as his strong arm lifted her up, the other balancing the board, Cle saw the twitch of his lips.
"Let's do it again. Please, Dev." Cle lifted her arm and placed it on his bare back, trying to still the shiver that went through her at the touch.
"Of course we'll do it again." Dev's smile was real this time and the satiric drawl was just as familiar and bracing.
Dev took her out three more times with him before he would let her take her own board. When they paddled out together, her ears were filled with his instructions. He was right at her side.