Authors: Kay Hooper
"Come here, you little witch!" He got to his feet, advancing toward her purposefully.
Robyn clutched her dolphin in front of her like a shield and cast harried, mock-fearful looks around her. But they were interrupted before Shane could wreak vengeance on her.
"Aren't you Shane Justice?"
Both of them turned instinctively as two teenaged girls approached them, beaming happily at Shane and totally ignoring Robyn. They wore cut-off jeans and T-shirts with NASCAR emblazoned in bold black print across jutting breasts. Robyn wasn't the slightest bit surprised to find racing fans here. She'd seen them in stranger places.
The girls were pelting Shane with questions about his racing, barely letting him get a word in and giving him no opportunity to introduce Robyn. More amused by Shane's embarrassment than irritated by the interruption, Robyn quietly gathered up the remains of their supper and made a short trip to the trash can. She returned to his side just as the girls were happily telling Shane that they were in Florida for the race and were heading toward Daytona the next day. Of course, they'd see him there.
Robyn took another good look at them and admitted to herself that she'd been wrong about their ages. The blonde was quite possibly her own age, and the brunette only slightly younger. And both were looking at Shane with eyes that ate him alive.
"Could we have your autograph?" the brunette asked, producing a felt-tipped pen and turning her back so that Shane could sign her T-shirt. He did so, politely.
The blonde was made of sterner stuff. When Shane turned to her she threw back her long hair and stuck out her chest with what appeared to Robyn to be excessive pride. "Over the 'a'," she murmured seductively, gazing into his startled eyes.
Robyn rested her chin on the nose of her dolphin and bit back a laugh as she watched the red creep up into Shane's cheeks. He obviously tried not to touch the blonde's ample gifts with anything but the pen. At the last possible moment, however, the blonde inhaled, and Shane's signature ended in a rather peculiar scrawl. He hastily returned the pen to the brunette.
The blonde finally looked at Robyn with speculative eyes. "Are you his sister?" she asked sweetly.
"Or his maiden aunt?"
Robyn wasn't about to let her get away with that! She quickly grasped Shane's arm and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder adoringly. "Actually, I'm his mistress," she confided gently.
The brunette gasped as though her idol had just developed a bad case of clay feet. The blonde continued to smile, however forced it may have been. "Really?" she asked disbelievingly.
"Oh, yes." Robyn's voice was still soft and gentle, but her cool eyes met the narrowing blue gaze of the other with more than a hint of warning. "I practically never leave his side."
The dueling match of eyes continued for a long moment. Ultimately the blonde turned away, saying meaningfully over her shoulder, "See you in Daytona, Shane!" Her friend hurried after her.
Robyn released Shane's arm, acquiring a firmer grip on her slipping dolphin, and looked up at her silent companion. "Groupies?" she asked innocently.
"Sorry," he murmured, staring down at her with an odd expression. "Racing fans are... fans."
"Short for fanatic, I assume." She didn't like that considering look on his face. "Uh, the sun's going down. Shouldn't we head back toward the boat?"
He didn't move. "You were very convincing with that possessive act, Robyn."
She wasn't about to answer the question he hadn't asked. "Did it bother you?" she asked lightly.
He shook his head slowly. "I'm just wondering why you went to the trouble," he said very softly.
"No trouble at all," she responded flippantly, adding
easily,
"Isn't the marina this way?" Determinedly, she headed off. Within a few steps, Shane had silently joined her. He remained silent until they had nearly reached the already lighted marina.
Robyn was caught up in her own thoughts, emotions, and sensations. Both her hand and her cheek were still tingling from the brief contact with Shane, and she was belatedly astonished by the surge of possessive rage she had felt when that blonde had looked at Shane with proprietary eyes. She had wanted to do much more than sweetly warn away the other woman. What she had wanted to do was to drop her dolphin, launch herself at the blonde's throat, and engage in a grade-A, number-one catfight.
To a woman who had never lifted her hand against another person in anger, that desire was as shocking as it was totally unfamiliar.
"Penny for your thoughts."
Hastily dragging her mind from its contemplation of the latest in a series of unfamiliar sensations, Robyn responded briefly, "They're not worth that."
"Robyn, if those fans upset you-"
"No, of course not," she interrupted, resisting her impulse to look up at him. She knew that Shane was puzzled by her suddenly guarded mood, but she wasn't about to explain that she was disturbed by primitive emotions she had never experienced before. That confession would ultimately lead to the one she was as yet unprepared to make. She was not ready to tell Shane that she loved him.
He sighed. "You're baffling, do you know that? Every time I think I have you figured out, you change moods on me. Is it a game to you, Robyn?"
She stopped walking suddenly and looked up at him, able to see him clearly in the harsh light from the marina. "No. Shane... let's don't spoil the day. Please?
With-with soul-searching, or whatever.
It's been
fun,
and I... Don't spoil it."
He gazed down at her for a moment, and she saw a muscle tighten in his jaw. Then he was smiling. "Okay, witch," he said lightly. "We won't spoil anything."
Relieved, Robyn started toward the walkway leading down to the boats, but a sudden commotion halted her in her tracks. A royally groomed and beribboned poodle was dashing toward them, barking hysterically. In front of the poodle ran a scrawny black cat with wild yellow eyes and a crooked tail. The dog was gaining.
Robyn thrust the stuffed dolphin at Shane and, as the cat started to run between them, she snatched it up into her arms. The dog, dodging Shane's instinctive swipe with the dolphin, turned tail and ran.
Shane turned immediately to Robyn. "Honey, turn it loose-it looks as mad as a hatter! The dog's gone."
But his obvious fears that the cat would scratch or bite Robyn were completely misplaced. Thin sides heaving and tail twitching erratically, the animal made no move to struggle.
"The poor thing!
Look, Shane, its ear's all torn." She gently fingered one tattered ear. "Its coat's all matted, and I can feel every rib-"
"Robyn," Shane broke in patiently, "we can't take a cat with us on the boat. We'll find someone-"
"It's hungry!"
"-to take care of it," he finished firmly.
"It might be sick!"
"All the more reason-"
"Every boat needs a mascot. And it doesn't have a home; I just know it doesn't. It wouldn't take up much room."
"Robyn-"
"I'll take care of it!"
"Robyn, you can't paper-train a cat!"
She looked up at him pleadingly. "We can work something out. Please, Shane?"
"Oh, hell," he muttered. "You're more trouble than you're worth, do you know that?"
"Am I?"
He stared at her,
then
gruffly answered, "No." He handed her the dolphin, turned her toward the walkway, and gave her a light swat on the bottom. "Go on to the boat. I'll see if I can rustle up a litter box and some cat food."
Robyn smiled at him over her shoulder as he strode off into the darkness,
then
made her way carefully to the boat. Luckily, the marina was somewhat thin of boats at the moment, so she had very little trouble finding theirs.
On board, she went below and turned on the battery-powered lights in the galley. She rummaged around until she located a can of tuna for her new pet. While the cat-a "he" she had discovered-was eating, she went into her cabin and left the dolphin on the bunk, then found her spare hairbrush, her shampoo, and a towel.
The cat didn't like the small galley sink. Nor did he enjoy having every inch of his emaciated self ruthlessly washed. He was, however, remarkably docile about the situation. He never once threatened to scratch or bite.
Robyn dried him carefully with the towel, talking to him all the while, and fed him another small meal of condensed milk. When Shane returned nearly an hour later, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the galley, gently applying peroxide to one battered ear of a hesitantly purring and much-improved-looking black cat.
"Got it tamed, 1
see
." He set a plastic box and two bags on the tiny table. "It looks like you've made a friend for life."
"He doesn't look so bad now, does he?" Robyn inquired in a rewarded voice, putting the top back on the peroxide bottle. "In a week or so, he'll be a new cat!"
Shane sat down on the narrow bench by the table.
"He, huh?
Well, what are you going to name him?"
"I don't know.
Suggestions?"
"
Pyewacket
," Shane supplied instantly.
Robyn started laughing. "Why that?"
"Because he's obviously going to be a witch's familiar."
"Funny, funny.
Be serious!"
"King George, then."
Robyn cocked her head to one side. "Which King George?" she asked gravely.
"The one they had to lock up."
"George III?"
"If that's the one they had to lock up.
He was mad as a hatter, too. Kept screaming 'Off with their heads!'"
Robyn frowned at him. "I think you're a little confused. The Queen of Hearts in
Alice in Wonderland
screamed that. King George III was just a little batty."
Shane's emerald eyes twinkled down at her.
"If you say so.
Anyway, that's a King George if ever I saw one."
"Have you?"
"Have I what?"
"Ever seen one?"
"Don't be so literal."
Robyn grinned at him,
then
sobered abruptly. "Thank you for letting me
keep
him, Shane." She looked down at the sleepy cat in her lap. "I've never been able to have a pet before."
"Why not?"
She waved a hand vaguely, still watching the cat. "Oh, Daddy traveled so much, from base to base. It just wasn't practical. And Brian had an allergy."
"So you compromised."
"I suppose." Robyn was dimly surprised that both she and Shane were beginning to take any mention of her husband so calmly. Shane no longer tensed whenever Brian was mentioned, and Robyn found herself a little less guarded.
"You've always compromised for the men in your life, haven't you, honey?" he suggested quietly.
Robyn looked up, startled. "I don't know what you mean," she said uncertainly.
"I think you do." Shane was watching her very intently. He shifted sideways on the bench, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "You traveled with your father, even though I'm willing to bet you never enjoyed it. You didn't have a pet because it would have been a problem for him."
"I traveled with Daddy because I wanted to be with him," Robyn insisted quietly. "My mother died when I was three; Daddy was all I had. And he never refused to get me a pet."
"Because you never asked."
More than a little startled by Shane's perception, Robyn could only stare at him mutely. He went on, his voice determined.
"Then there was your husband. I think you compromised a great deal with him. You said that he traveled a lot in his work-and you traveled with him. He had an allergy, so you didn't have a pet. And I'll bet you didn't work because he didn't want you to."
"I didn't have to work."
"But you wanted to. I'm sure you went to college.
Business degree?"
She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the sleeping cat.
"You wanted to work, maybe start your own business. But your husband didn't want you to. So you didn't."
"Make your point, Shane," she said in a low voice, tacitly admitting that his guesses were on target.
"You're a very... selfless woman, Robyn. You always seem to be molding yourself to someone else's wishes.
Even this trip.
The thought of getting involved with me threw you into a panic, but you agreed rather than fight me."
"Would you rather I'd said no?" she snapped suddenly, looking up at him with stormy eyes.
"There it is," he said softly, as if to himself. "
That spark
of temper. How much you must have resented doing what was best for someone else instead of what was best for you."
"You didn't answer my question, Shane," she pointed out tightly.
He smiled slightly, his green eyes still thoughtful. "You know the answer. I'm very glad you said yes. But, Robyn, don't ever hesitate to get mad at me, or tell me what you really think. It's very important for you and me to be honest with each other. Agreed?"
Robyn got to her feet slowly, holding King George in her arms. Shane was so patient, she thought wonderingly, so determined to set their relationship on the right course. "It's been a long day. I think I'll take a shower and turn in. Good night, Shane."
"Agreed, Robyn?" he repeated firmly.
"Agreed," she murmured at last, heading toward her cabin.
She put King George on her bunk and watched the cat curl himself into a contented ball,
then
she gathered up some things and went into the tiny bathroom. She coped with the narrow shower stall almost automatically, her mind occupied with what Shane had said. Emerging from the bathroom minutes later, she found that he had fixed the litter box for George and left it in the hallway. She was at her cabin door, wearing her terry robe and carrying odds and ends, when Shane stuck his head out of the galley.
"I got my sleeping bag and some other stuff from the cabin, so I won't have to disturb you later. Good night, honey." The emerald eyes flared slightly as they took in the damp robe, but he said nothing more.