Torn Asunder (13 page)

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Authors: Ann Cristy

BOOK: Torn Asunder
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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,
they 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.

The
waves had been getting progressively bigger and Cle could see the crease of
worry between Dev's brows as he scanned the waves behind them. Cle wanted to
reassure him but the thunder of the water prevented conversation. Finally Dev
signaled a wave and she began paddling, watching as Dev had instructed her. She
rose in slow motion to her feet as she entered the curl, the feeling of
excitement almost choking her. She rocked several times but managed to keep to
her feet... then she was flying as the board lifted like a live thing and she
sped toward the beach. Was there ever such a feeling before? Cle's mind reacted
to what Dev had taught her, the thrill only seeming to sharpen her reflexes.
She was doing it. She was riding the surf.

When
she sank into the water, Dev was there, his hand on her at once, making her
realize that somehow he had managed to ride with her all the way.

Dev
called a halt for lunch. It was a lovely meal of cold prawns with a hot sauce,
slices of chicken breast, fruit salad, dark bread, and small pieces of cake
that Dev told her was called fruitcake in
Scotland
. To Cle it looked like
flaky squares of pie dough with apples, raisins, and currants spread thinly
between the layers. There was lemonade to drink and Australian beer that Dev
told her tasted like good English ale.

Cle
looked at him. "And you say that I'm such a Yankee. You should listen to
yourself talking about Scottish things and English things. You brag more than
I do."

Dev
looked up at her as he reclined on one elbow with the bottle of beer in his
hand, studying her as she knelt on the blanket. "I will never tease you
about being a Yankee again. Not after today when I've seen such a display of
Yankee courage."

Cle
felt weak at his words, boneless, embarrassed yet delighted. "I... I
wasn't brave. I was really very frightened."

"Yes.
You were frightened but when I asked you to go back into the water with me, you
didn't hesitate." He rose to a sitting position, bringing himself closer
to her. "You Yankee ladies are something special, ma'am," Dev
mimicked a Southern drawl.

"I'm
glad you realize that, suh." Cle tried to match his mood; his nearness was
making her giddy.

Even
though Cle begged him, Dev wouldn't let her take the board out again. He said
she was more tired than she realized. She started to argue with him. When the
Carstairs jaw jutted forth, she gave up. It was a waste of time... and breath.
Dev was capable of throwing her over his shoulder and carting her to the car.
Besides she did feel a strange lassitude.

"It's
a delayed reaction." Dev said as he entered the car and sat sideways
watching her, her head lolling against the back of the seat.

Cle
turned her head slowly. "Don't be silly. I'm strong as an ox."

Dev
leaned over, his lips feathering her cheek before they clamped with the
gentlest pressure on her mouth. "You have the heart of a lion... true, but
you still suffered a trauma. It will be warm milk, an omelet, a soothing
bath, and bed for you as soon as we get home."

"English
aristocrats sure are bossy." Cle's eyelids fluttered. "Especially
lords." She couldn't lift her lids.

"Right.
And don't you forget it." His mouth pressed her lids tighter shut.

When
Dev lifted her from the car, she mumbled that she was too heavy, that she had
had enough sleep in the car and now she could walk. Still she was so glad when
he muttered something about not being so stubborn and held her tight in his
arms.

She
could remember telling him that she was sorry she had slept all the way home
from the beach as he removed her clothes, then lifted her into a tub of water
that seemed to make her even sleepier. She yawned hugely in Dev's face as he
used the loofah sponge on her stomach and breasts. "Ummm?" She
muttered when she heard him curse about bruises. Cle wondered for a hazy moment
where his bruises were.

He
wrapped her in a fluffy bath sheet that covered her from neck to ankle. She
smiled when she heard him chuckling about not being able to dry her when she
kept sagging against him like that. She heard her own long, satisfied sigh when
he placed her between the sheets. She tried to open her eyes when he said
something about forgetting the omelet for the time being.

Cle
had a hazy awareness of something warm embracing her body. She snuggled
closer, contented. Sleep was falling down a black, quiet well.

She
awoke once in the night, fuzzily aware of contentment and a feeling of
security. There was something that wasn't quite right and she knew that if she
concentrated it would come to her what it was, but that sense of contentment
was too strong. She fell back into the cocoon of sleep.

Sunlight
performed a macabre arabesque on the ceiling. Cle blinked at it for long
moments letting the puzzle pieces of her mind take shape, then assemble.

She
stiffened at the familiar warmth at her back. Her eyes blinked once, twice,
three times. Yes, she was awake. She wasn't dreaming again about being with Dev
back in the apartment in
New York
.
No, it was real! She was awake! It was still a holiday because New Year's Day
had been Saturday this year. Today was Sunday, she catalogued in perspiring
dread, not wanting to turn around and see that face, not wanting to look down
and see that arm around her waist, knowing if she did that arm would be coated
by dark hairs, that the skin would be tanned. My God, she thought, if he wakes
up right now, he'll make love to me and I'll not only let him, I'll beg him to.
Cle groaned to herself, hating her weakness. Damn him to hell! She hoped when
he did marry the right woman, she'd have a nose like the
London
Bridge
, a face like the map of
Scotland
, legs like
London
lam posts, and hips like the gates to
Buckingham
Palace
.

Gritting
her teeth, Cle readied her body for flight, knowing that if Dev were awake his
reflexes wouldn't give her a second chance to escape his hold. With a feather
touch she lifted the sheet, then catapulted out of the bed. As her feet hit the
floor she was running for the bathroom. She heard the rustle and thump behind
her and knew that Dev had made a grab for her. She slammed the door, locked it,
and took deep, long breaths as she leaned against it.

"Don't
be too satisfied with yourself, darling," Dev crooned from the other side
of the door, making her leap away from the wood as though it had just caught
fire. "You have to come out of there sometime."

"Are
you set on raping me?" Cle squeaked, reaching for a towel and cuddling it
to her like a security blanket.

"You
know damn well it wouldn't be rape between us, Cle." Dev's voice hadn't
risen, but there was a thread of steel in it.

"I'm
not staying in here like a prisoner. When I come out of here if you touch me,
I'll call the police."

"Don't
get hysterical, love. You know I'd never threaten you. Take your bath, then
come out. I'll get breakfast ready."

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