Sweet Promise (16 page)

"Really?"

"You'd better believe it. Thorne Padriag Fleming doesn't tolerate slackers." Sean took another bite of sandwich and washed it down with more cola. "Dad came to the States from Ireland when he was seventeen," he continued reminiscently. "He had twenty dollars in his pocket. It was tough, but he worked at any job he could find, and even managed to take a few night classes. When he was old enough he joined the police force and became one of New York's finest. He retired a few years back as a captain."

"He raised eight children on a policeman's salary?" Joanna asked in astonishment and awe.

Sean looked at her intently. "We didn't have much money, but we kids didn't know that. We were happy, well-fed and loved. Anyway, everything is relative. Compared to what he had in the old country, Dad feels well-to-do. He's proud of what he's achieved and the fact that he's raised eight kids to be solid citizens. To his way of thinking, he's a living example of the American dream."

The censorious note in Sean's voice brought a vivid flush to Joanna's face and neck.
Oh, Lord. When mill ever learn?
"Sean, I'm sorry. I know how snooty that must have sounded, but I didn't mean to insult you," she insisted anxiously. "Honestly, I just—"

"That's okay. I guess, considering the life you've had, it must be hard for you to understand."

Feeling miserable and horribly embarrassed, and unable to think of a thing to say, Joanna watched Sean polish off the last of his sandwich and drink, then toss the wrapper and can into the sack.

When done, he leaned back on one palm, propped a wet foot on the pier and draped his arm across his knee, squinting his eyes against the light reflecting off the water. Joanna half expected him to suggest that they return to the ship, but after a moment he picked up the conversation again.

"I guess the point is, Dad believes that with hard work and determination you can be whatever you want to be. He encouraged all his children to set their goals high and reach for them." Sean shrugged and smiled crookedly. "In addition to loving his adopted country he's fascinated by the way the system works, and I suppose some of that rubbed off on me, which is why I got involved in politics."

"How about your brothers and sisters? What do they do?" Joanna asked hesitantly.

"Mike—he's the oldest—followed in Dad's footsteps and became a policeman. Kathleen is ah attorney, and Dennis will be, just as soon as he passes the bar exam. Bridget is a social worker, Ryan's in med school, and, let's see... Colin just graduated from college and is starting out in sales, and Meghan..." Sean's face softened and his eyes grew tender. "Meghan's the baby of the family. It's hard to believe that she now has a baby of her own."

Sean looked at Joanna, and she could see in his face the deep affection he felt for his youngest sibling, plus a trace of sadness that she had left the innocence of childhood behind.

"She's the mother of the two-month-old nephew I told you about. Both Meghan and her husband work and go to school part-time. They're as poor as church mice, and it's a constant struggle for them to make ends meet, especially now with the baby, but they refuse to take help from anyone," he said with a frown, both irritation and pride evident in his voice.

"My goodness. No wonder your father is proud of his children. I'm sure your mother is, too."

"Oh sure," Sean said with a chuckle. "Although I think the fact that seven of her eight offspring are happily married and producing grandchildren means more to her than anything else. Mom's never happier than when she's got her whole brood gathered around." He rolled his eyes eloquently. "Lord, you ought to see us during holidays and family gatherings. It's pure bedlam. There's thirty-eight of us, for Pete's sake."

"I can—" Joanna stopped and laughed, shaking her head wryly. "I almost said, 'I can imagine,' but I really can't. It certainly sounds interesting, though."

"Oh, it is. It is."

Enthralled, as only an only child can be, Joanna listened as Sean related several anecdotes about his family. Some were hilarious, some poignant. To Joanna they were all fascinating. She was well aware that Sean, with his Irish gift of gab, had probably embroidered and embellished the tales, but she didn't care. It thrilled her that he was sharing them with her, giving her a glimpse of that private part of his life. Somehow, she knew instinctively that it was a privilege he didn't afford many people.

Joanna laughed so hard after one particularly funny tale that she had to dig into the trash sack for a napkin to dab the tears from her eyes. "Oh, Sean, that was pr-priceless," she choked weakly, mopping at her wet cheeks. "Your nephew actually shaved off all the other kids' eyebrows?"

After a moment, when Sean didn't reply, she peered over the napkin and found that he was watching her, his face serious, intent.

"You really are a lovely woman," he said quietly. Leaning closer, he caressed her cheek with his fingertips, and Joanna felt her heart begin to pound. "I wonder why I didn't notice that years ago?"

"Probably because I was a pushy, arrogant brat," Joanna said on a weak laugh.

Sean grinned. "Yeah, you're probably right. But you've changed," he murmured, growing serious again. "And I find that I like the new Joanna very much." Slowly, he trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, across the gentle slope of her shoulder and down her arm to her elbow, then back up. Joanna closed her eyes and shivered delicately. "Very much," he repeated in a husky whisper.

His breath feathered across her skin, and Joanna lifted her heavy lids to find that he had moved closer still, and that his gaze was locked on her mouth. The meandering hand slid back over her shoulder and cupped around her nape. With gentle but firm pressure he urged her forward until their lips met.

It was the softest of kisses. With the merest pressure, his lips rocked against hers in a slow seductive motion.

The tip of his tongue slid enticingly back and forth between her barely parted lips, tasting, tempting. But for all its gentleness the kiss was filled with heat and power. Joanna trembled beneath its sweet hot touch as a shimmering flame raced through her and her skin prickled deliciously.

Their lips clung, then parted. His black eyes glittering with leashed passion, Sean pulled back just inches and studied Joanna's glazed look and flushed face. He drew his hand from her nape and cupped her jaw, smiling tenderly as his thumb swept over her trembling lips and touched the tiny beauty mark at one corner.

"I think we'd better go back to shopping or sightseeing, before I forget we're in a public place and do something to embarrass us," he whispered roughly, half teasing, half serious.

The lambent flame in his eyes filled Joanna with sheer joy. How many times had she dreamed of him looking at her in just that way? Of hearing that husky, intimate tone? It was a fantasy come true.

So was the rest of the day. Flushed with happiness, Joanna strolled with Sean through the Fredriksted's narrow, picturesque streets. In an interesting, tucked away alley paved with cobblestones and lined with unusual shops, they discovered a sidewalk cafe, where they enjoyed pina coladas beneath a huge poinciana tree and talked endlessly of nonsensical, inconsequential things. But with every look exchanged, every touch, they communicated on a far deeper, more basic level.

They returned to Christiansted and the ship late that afternoon. It was almost sailing time, and they decided to watch the ship get under way from the sun deck. When they reached the bow, however, they both stopped short at the sight of Gloria and Tony standing in the shallow end of the pool, locked in a passionate kiss.

Cautiously, Joanna looked at Sean. "Does that, uh.. .upset you?"

"No, not a bit," Sean said with casual indifference. Then his eyes narrowed. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Me? Why should it bother me? Tony and I aren't romantically involved." Joanna shot him an accusing glance, then tilted her chin disdainfully and sniffed, "Certainly not to the point where I would allow him to buy me a gold bracelet."

A dawning light appeared in Sean's eyes and he grinned slowly. "Ah, so that's it. Well this may be hard for you to believe, but I bought that gold bracelet for Gloria because I felt guilty for
not
having an affair with her."

"Oh, please. You don't' really expect me to believe that, do you?"

"It's true. Oh, I intended to. But somehow I just couldn't work up any enthusiasm." Sean picked up a handful of her hair, rubbed it experimentally between his fingers and thumb and gave her a look that caused her insides to flutter wildly. "Someone else kept occupying my thoughts."

"Oh." Delight percolated through Joanna, and she beamed up at him foolishly.

"Yes, oh." There was a hint of teasing in his voice, but his eyes were very serious. "So you see, I'm not in the least upset about those two. I'm perfectly happy with the status quo. How about you?"

"Oh, yes," Joanna agreed softly. "I'm very happy."

Chapter Nine

E
xcitement and anticipation tingled through Joanna like the fluttering, whispering wings of a thousand butterflies.

On stage the dancers were performing a strenuous, precision tap routine to the band's rousing rendition of "Yankee-Doodle Dandy." It was an excellent show. Every member of the troupe was talented and professional, and Joanna watched them with every outward sign of enjoyment. But for all that her mind was on the performance they might just as well have been left-footed hippos in tutus.

Sitting beside Sean in the dim theater, their clasped hands resting on his thigh, Joanna could think of nothing but him—the day that had just passed, the night that was to come.

The theater seats were actually love seats, arranged in curving rows around the stage, and sharing one with

Sean, Joanna could feel his heat, the tensile strength of him, all along her side from her shoulder to her knee. Against her bare arm his coat sleeve felt rough, slightly scratchy, wonderful. Her gaze dropped to their clasped hands and a smile played about her lips. The contrasts were marked: large to small, strength to fragility, dark to pale, rough to smooth. Yet, somehow, they looked so right together. And it felt so natural to be touching him.

The dance number came to an end, and all around Joanna the audience broke into enthusiastic clapping, snapping her out of her sensuous study. The Wrights were seated in the row in front of them, and when Joanna's gaze fell on Mary's silver head the hovering smile grew. Other than exchanging knowing glances, no one had seemed surprised earlier when she and Sean had arrived for dinner together. Shrewdly noting the warm look in Sean's eyes and the way his hands had lingered on Joanna's shoulders after he had pushed in her chair, Mary had merely leaned close and whispered in her ear, "It's about time," and then had laughed delightedly at Joanna's startled look.

Gloria had allowed herself one hostile glare before resuming her flirtation with Tony, who had seemed delighted with the situation.

Apparently everyone else was aware of our feelings before we were, Joanna thought wryly. At least.. .before Sean was.

"Ready?" Sean asked, and Joanna looked at him in surprise, blinking as the lights came on, only then realizing that the show had ended.

As they inched their way up the aisle in the midst of the crowd Sean walked just behind Joanna with his hands, resting lightly on either side of her waist. Smiling, Joanna savored the feel of his body brushing against her back and hips, the blatant possessiveness of his touch.

"How about a walk in the moonlight?"

Sean's warm breath filling her ear sent a tingle racing over Joanna's skin. He nipped her lobe gently, and against her neck she felt him smile as a shudder rippled through her. Joanna could only nod.

They eased out of the crowd at the first exit and stepped out onto the Promenade deck. By silent mutual consent, they took the outside stairs up to the next deck, which was open to the star-sprinkled sky. Hands clasped, fingers laced together, they strolled toward the stern, their footsteps making soft measured thuds on the teak decking.

The warm night air flowed against their skin like a lover's breath, caressing, arousing. Resembling a misshapen silver disc, an almost full moon hung in the dark sky, bathing everything in its gentle glow.

Joanna felt as light as a feather, as though she would float away were it not for Sean's anchoring hand. She was drunk on happiness and the romantic atmosphere, the sheer magic of the night. Unlike the effects of alcohol, the emotional high did not dull her awareness, but made it sharper. As though her sensory perception had been fine tuned, she was acutely conscious of every nuance of feeling, every tiny detail around her: the slight salt tang of the air, the surprising calluses that ridged Sean's palm, and the wonderful warmth of it against hers, faint sounds of music and laughter floating up from the lounges on the deck below, silk drifting against her legs as the softest of breezes toyed with the handkerchief hem of her gown, lovers lurking in the shadows, whispering, embracing, the trembly feeling in her lower belly, resulting from the sure knowledge that they were about to reach a new turning point, one that would alter their relationship forever.

The hint of a smile hovering around Sean's mouth told her he was aware of her anticipation and shared it. His pulse throbbed beneath her fingertips, its rhythm exactly matching the heavy thud of her heart, and the occasional burning looks he cast her way made it beat even stronger and flooded her body with heat.