Sterling's Reasons (11 page)
Sterling took her time to dress. She wanted to knock his eyes out tonight and she didn’t stop to question exactly why. He was rejoining the living. If they could make it through this evening as any average couple… Couple? She smiled at herself in the mirror.
He came by way of the front door and pushed it open. “You ready?” He stopped when she came from the bedroom. She was beautiful. Her hair was piled on top of her head leaving long curls at her neck and ears. Her dress was a stunning emerald-green silk that caressed her body as it fell over the curves. The neckline dipped to a V and a long gold chain with a small emerald winked there.
She had accented her eyes with something dark and tinted her mouth with just the slightest tint of pink. The image of the interfering imp disappeared and the reality of a lovely woman took place.
“You look very nice,” she told him as she walked over to him. And he did.
He was wearing a western-cut black sport coat, black slacks, and a black shirt with pearl snaps. A thin gray tie clipped with silver lay slightly crooked down 84
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the front. Straightening it for him, she caught the scent of his spicy aftershave. He was handsome and he looked indomitable.
“I never was any good with these things,” he told her as her closeness contracted his muscles. “You’re beautiful.”
She stood back. “Thank you.” She had to. The attraction she felt for him had leaped to a dangerous level. She had seen him at his worst and pretty close to his best. That alone made her feel an admiration for him. She just plain liked the man. He had a good heart and she felt things she couldn’t describe radiate from him to her. It pulled at her. It didn’t leave her alone.
She handed him the keys to the Porsche. He took them, offered her his arm, and together they went outside.
Sterling felt a pulse of excitement as they arrived at the dock. It was sundown and the ship was draped with colored lights. People strolled on board, chattering and laughing. Music floated on the air invitingly.
She felt his fingers curl around hers as they went up the gangplank. They were led to a table and seated. Their wineglasses were filled and then a deep voice welcomed them aboard over a grainy intercom system. The ship’s horn blasted its signal and they were on their way.
They were one of at least twenty couples. Some were old, some young, some appeared to be on their honeymoon. Joe and Sterling took their drinks to the rail and watched as the mooring ropes were released and the boat glided out of port.
“I love this. Look, over there. I’d hate to wash all those windows.”
He followed her gaze to the multistoried house that stood near the water’s edge. Then turning back, he looked at her and watched the way she took in everything and found pleasure in it all: the jet skiers jumping the wake of their ship, the other small crafts that passed them, the passengers waving in response to her waves.
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Dinner was lobster. He winced as she asked for more butter. The food was rich, the music soothing, and the company was lively. She chatted with other travelers.
Darkness fell, and with it came a bright, mysterious aura created by the lights and the music and the gentle sway of the boat. She declined dessert but stood up and offered Joe her hand. He took it and led her to the dance floor.
The moment he turned her into his arms, she knew he knew more about dancing than she could ever forget. One hand flattened and pressed against the middle of her back, the other took hers out and down. Holding her close, but inches away, he moved in a fluid and almost seductive way. Catching the beat, he stepped to the side, quarter step and pause…sway to the other side, quarter step and pause…forward and then back and hold. He turned his full attention to her and she looked into clear eyes, eyes that had forgotten their brooding look for just a little while and now searched her own, challenging and daring. Pure male sexuality exuded from him. Responding, she swayed and dipped. When he turned, she flowed.
Joe circled, pulling her body solidly against his own. The power filled her, enveloping both, combining them in a small world of their own filled with music and magic.
When he paused for several beats, keeping her mesmerized with his eyes, her stomach lifted, fluttered and floated. The pulse at her wrist tripped double-time. Excitement ran through her veins to bring a flush to her cheeks.
There was no smile on his lips. No gentleness in his eyes. Tightening his fingers around her own, he slowed his steps to no movement at all. Couples swirled all around them. They stood in the dance position, feeling. Just feeling.
Electricity traveled from her toes to her ears. He moved to lay his jaw against her temple. Sterling’s breath snagged.
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She was all smooth motion under her hands. The silk whispered over her body as she moved. After pressing the lightest kiss on her cheek, he whispered,
“When do the lessons begin?”
The light danced in her eyes as she smiled up at him. “Depends on who’s teaching who, and what.”
He wanted to lean forward and kiss her, but stepped back and twirled her out and back to hint. She laughed and exaggerated the move.
Power. It possessed him. It motivated him in everything he did. An energy, a pulse that drove him…she could feel it. It excited her. The fact that a man of this caliber spent time with her, valued her even though he didn’t trust her, calmed her.
The music changed, abruptly, deliberately, to a Virginia reel. Hoots and hollers rang out over the air as everyone took partners and began some real foot-stomping.
Sterling was stolen from Joe by an aging gentleman with blue-white hair and twinkling green eyes. She was whirled and twirled and bumped and pulled. She would join hands with Joe only to have him traded off to another partner. She didn’t miss the smug look in his eyes.
After ten minutes of hoedown, the music returned to the soft, romantic, dreamy tunes. She and Joe found themselves back at their table. She was breathless and glowing.
“See. See. You
are
having a good time,” she challenged him.
The darkness that floated into his eyes set her back. Just like that. One moment he was obviously enjoying it. The next…it was back again. What had she done?
It hit him. It hit him hard. The guilt. It was recognizable this time. All too evident. He was alive and his friend was dead. And he missed him. And he
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hated himself for what he did. A blackness took over and shrouded him from all the things going on around him. He signaled the waiter and ordered a double.
Sterling watched him, alerted to something dangerous.
It was over. The fun, the excitement. Maybe it was too much, too soon. She had messed up again. “Joe?”
He shook his head and downed his drink. “How long before we dock?”
She checked her little velvet-strapped watch. “About half an hour. Are you okay?”
He seemed to take control of himself and forcibly push his way through the bleakness. “You wanted to dance. Let’s do it.”
But it was different now. He didn’t look at her. His eyes roamed to the other couples, the tables, the abyss that surrounded the ship. She looked up at him, squeezed his hand, and waited for a response. There was none.
Sterling moved closer to him, knowing he wouldn’t push her away in front of everyone out of simple manners. “Joe. Talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”
“Dance, Sterling. Just dance.”
“You’re letting it happen again. Fight it. It’s the only way to get past it.”
He stopped dead-still, his arm around her, her face inches from his. He seemed to be at war with something. She sensed there was something threatening to burst forth from him. He was like a caged animal.
He dropped her hand and stalked to the door leading to the bottom level.
Sterling gave him a few moments and then she traced his steps. She found him leaning on the railing smoking a cigarette near the back of the ship. It was darker here. The hum of the motor and the sound of the sea rolling beneath secluded them even more. She walked up and leaned against his back.
When he turned, she was sure it was violence she saw in his eyes. He pulled her roughly to him and ground his mouth against hers.
Not this time,
she thought.
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She pulled back and stepped away from him, feeling just a little more than shaky.
Her eyes mirrored her thoughts. He wasn’t going to treat her with complete disregard. Every time it got to him when she was around, he vented himself with her.
He held up his hand when she started to speak. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is. Just leave me alone. Go back upstairs and wait for me. I’ll be up in a minute.” He turned his back to her and pitched his cigarette overboard.
She took a place by the railing next to him. The sounds of the music and the laughter reached her ears and made her envy the light-hearted enjoyment from inside.
“You need a friend, Joe. Why don’t you let me be that person?”
“A friend? A friend wouldn’t be here to get information any way she could get it. A friend would recognize when a man wants to be left alone and would leave him alone. A friend is what I had before I killed him.”
She remained silent but didn’t move away.
“He no longer knows the pleasure of his wife, the love of his kids, or the simple joy a man can get from being somewhere with someone he enjoys being with. The feeling of a woman in his arms and all night ahead of him.” His words were directed at her, but he didn’t look her way.
She let her breath out slowly. She felt the resentment even though she realized that his grief was too fresh. She remembered all too well how she felt for a long time after Jerry’s death. She knew any sympathy she might offer him would only serve to feed his dark mood.
“A pity party. That’s what this has turned into. I’m growing very weary of your self-pity. Self-flagellation is ugly. You’re a man who has handled nasty things before and managed to get through them. Maybe even thrive on them.
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You haven’t given in to the fact that your friend is dead. Have you cried?” At his dark glare she answered, “I thought not. Men do cry, Joe. They need to. It’s a biological release. Maybe it’s necessary before you can begin to heal.”
He was silent a moment, and Sterling could almost feel him fighting back cruel words. She could feel him tense and draw on all the control he had available. She waited.
When he turned to her, he reached one hand up to touch a curl that fell to her shoulder. “I don’t need you around to constantly be the voice of my own mind. Maybe I don’t want you to point out what goes on inside me.” His voice was strained and controlled. She was afraid he would lash out at her any moment. His touch caused her to be unsteady.
The ship’s horn blasted. Bells chimed. A runabout swished past them. A wave caught the side of the boat and sprayed them in mist.
“Trust me, Joe. Hold on to me. I’m here. I’ve offered my friendship to you with no expectations, no boundaries. All you have to do is reach out and hold tight to the hand I have offered you.”
He gathered her in his arms and crushed her to him. She felt the tremor roll through his body, knew from the way his breath caught that he was close to the release he needed. But it couldn’t come here. She held him until they both steadied. “I’ll go on up.” She lifted to her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his chin.
Without another word, she left him there when all she wanted was to stay with him.
He opened the car door for her and rounded the hood. He’d been silent as he drove home. At the cottages, he parked the Porsche in front of her house and opened the door for her.
The moon was nearly full. It cast a daylight haze across the ocean and sand.
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He escorted her to her door. “How much more material do you need for your story?”
She blew out her breath. “I start getting through to you and then you’re gone. I thought you believed me. I thought for a moment on the ship that I had gained your trust.”
He took her by the shoulders and turned her until the moonlight fell full on her face. “The question is, what do you want from me? You keep putting yourself in my way. You keep looking at me with those eyes, you keep smiling at me with those lips…and you keep reaching out to me, and when I respond, it scares me. Because I don’t understand it.”
He bent his head toward her slowly. His hand came up to frame her face. “I just want to touch you. Not even kiss you. I just want to touch you.”
His hand ran slowly down her neck, across her shoulder. He pulled the pins from her hair and tangled his fingers in it as it tumbled to her shoulders.
She trembled from his touch. The gentleness, the kindness that she sensed was there was so evident now. She caught her breath as he toyed with the gold hoops at her ears, the necklace that lay between her breasts.
She kept pushing the good part of life in his face, kept offering him something he felt incapable of accepting. He felt himself pulse with it. He watched her eyes as she looked at him, trusting him, and wandered how they would look when he let her down.
“I…I was pretty hard on you back there on the ship. It’s just that I can’t stand to see you torturing yourself.” Because she knew she had to be, she was patient.
“Don’t preach to me, Sterling. I’ve heard it all. Used some of it myself. I don’t give a damn anymore. The hell with it. The hell with the whole world. Go back to where you came from. I don’t want to deal with you anymore. You’re a dreamer or a cunning conartist. Either way, I don’t want any of it.”
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