Elusive Dawn (9 page)

He left her staring after him in wonder.

Robyn slowly put the lunch things away, knowing that neither of them would finish the meal. She left out only the wine, sipping hers as she tried to understand what had just taken place between her and Shane.

She wasn't quite sure, but she felt that a turning point had somehow been reached and successfully weathered. She didn't think that Shane would be upset again over Brian or her thoughts of him. But Shane, she knew, still had questions about her marriage. And she wasn't certain how to answer the questions when the time came.

She had been honest with Shane-and with herself for the first time. Her marriage to Brian would have been torn apart, either by his eventual infidelity or by her terror of his racing. That didn't mean that she had stopped loving her husband. He would always hold a special place in her heart. He'd been her first love, her first lover; nothing would ever change that. But that was then.

Now she was facing a relationship that could possibly be shadowed-just as her marriage had been- by racing. If she and Shane discovered that they had something special, something to build a future on, then she would have to either conquer her fears or allow them to ruin her life. She would never ask Shane to give up something he loved for her. No matter how dangerous that "something" was.

She would not try to change him.

That resolve had just filtered somewhat painfully into her mind when she heard Shane return and looked up to find him kneeling on the blanket in front of her. He was unscrewing the top of a small tube in his hand and looking at her with smiling eyes.

"The nose first, I think," he said judiciously, and he promptly began smearing some of the white cream across her nose.

Robyn giggled at the cool sensation, but her laughter died when the now-familiar shock tingled over her nerve endings. She stared up at him gravely.

Shane's fingers seemed to quiver slightly as he met her look, and his own emerald gaze became fathoms deep. Somewhat hastily, he finished with her nose and picked up one of her hands, using both of his to work the soothing cream into her reddened palm. He lowered his eyes to the task, and she could have sworn that he caught his breath.

The movements of his fingers over first one palm and then the other were strangely erotic, causing a trembling to start deep inside her, spreading outward until her fingers shook within his. She could feel her heart thudding against her rib cage and wondered dimly if he was aware of the pulse pounding in her wrist.

The cream disappeared into her skin, and still his fingers continued their gentle stroking, caressing. Without looking up at her, he said very quietly, "I had to touch you. You realize that, don't you?"

The soft statement made her thudding heart skip a beat. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, her eyes searching his face as though it held the secrets of the universe. Still he refused to look at her. When he went on, his voice had deepened, hoarsened.

"I've tried to keep my hands off you all morning and haven't succeeded worth a damn. I
have
to touch you, Robyn. The same way I have to breathe. Don't hate me for that."

"I don't hate you, Shane."

He looked up at last as she whispered the denial, and his hands closed convulsively around hers with a gentle, savage strength. His eyes were nearly black. "Don't look at me like that,
dammit
," he swore softly. "Even when you don't mean to, you look at me with bedroom eyes!"

"Who says I don't mean to?" she managed shakily.

His eyes flared with emerald fire, and he released her hands to cradle her face with his large palms. "Honey, you don't know what you're saying. We're supposed to be getting to know each other as friends."

"I know." She reached up to grasp his wrists, suddenly understanding his statement about needing to touch her. She needed to touch him, desperately, almost painfully. It was like a hunger eating away at her soul. Bewildered by the strength of that need, the throbbing emptiness inside her, she pleaded huskily, "Please don't think I'm a tramp, Shane! I-I need you to touch me, I want you to! I can't help it..."

He abruptly rose on his knees, releasing her face to pull her up against his body, wrapping his arms around her firmly. "Of course I don't think you're a tramp!" he scolded unevenly. "You're confused, honey; everything's happened too fast. I just want you to be very, very sure of what you feel."

She intuitively sensed he was holding something back. What were the words he didn't speak, she wondered dimly, slipping her arms around his lean waist with a need beyond reason. Was he afraid that she still saw him as a replacement for Brian? Was he still thinking of another man's ghost?

Shane drew back far enough to gaze down at her face, his own very serious. "I want nothing less than a commitment from you, Robyn, and I don't think you're ready for that yet."

Unbidden, she thought of his racing, and a stab of fear shot through her. The fear must have been reflected in her eyes, and Shane obviously misinterpreted what he saw there.

He drew away suddenly, getting to his feet. "You see?" He smiled reassuringly, softening the blow of his taut voice. "You're scared to death of committing yourself to me, honey. You aren't ready for that yet."

Robyn wanted to voice another denial, but she couldn't work up the courage. Then the moment had passed, and it was too late.

"Give me a hand, and we'll get underway," he was saying lightly. "I'd like to reach Key Largo this afternoon."

Clamping a lid over the turmoil of her emotions, Robyn silently set about helping him to get the boat underway. Once they were skimming over the blue-green sea again, she left Shane at the wheel, gathered up the remains of their lunch, and went below.

She put everything in its place and then went into her cabin, emptied her duffel bag on the bottom bunk, and began putting her things away in one of the chests. The other chest, she noted, held Shane's clothing.

She resisted an impulse to run her fingers through his things, telling herself firmly not to be an idiot.

And then, unable to delay the moment any longer, she changed into a pair of cut-off jeans and a very brief halter top and went back up on deck-to the man who would or would not become her future.

Shane was standing behind the wheel. He watched her until she sat down on the padded bench, a lambent flame flickering for a moment in the depths of his eyes. Then he was paying attention to their course again.

"Have you ever seen the living coral reef off Key Largo?" he asked casually.

Robyn drew one foot up on the bench and hugged her knee, watching him. "No. Will we see it?"

"If we get there in time today, we can tie up nearby and take a ride in a glass-bottomed boat. How does that sound?"

"Great." She frowned slightly. "Tie up? Won't we just drop the anchor?"

"We'll tie up in the marina tonight, since we'll be leaving the boat. And once we reach Key West, too. In between, we'll just drop anchor in some little cove."

"Swim and fish?"
A smile played over her lips.

He sent her a quick, answering smile. "Sure. I wouldn't advise swimming out here in the open sea, but the coves should be safe enough. Have you ever fished?"

"Years ago, but never in the ocean.
I'll just watch you."

"That won't be any fun."

Silently, she thought: That's what you think! Aloud, she murmured, "How long does it take to get to Key Largo?"

"A couple of hours, if the wind holds."

A companionable silence fell between them. She joined him in staring out to sea, wondering what he was thinking and trying to make sense of
her own
thoughts. When he finally spoke, she almost wished he hadn't.

"Do I really look so much like him?"

Robyn felt her fingernails biting into her arms and had to make a conscious effort to relax. "Not really. He was dark but blue-eyed. And you're taller." When Shane turned his head to meet her steady gaze, she repeated, "Not really."

"Tell me about him. How you met."

She hesitated, staring at him. "Shane-"

"I have to know, Robyn."

Robyn stared down at her knee for a moment,
then
told him what she could. "We met at a party..." She looked up quickly, wishing she could recall the words, but Shane showed no reaction other than a slight frown. Hastily, she went on.

"My father had died recently, and I wasn't really used to going out much. But I was attracted to Brian. He always seemed to be smiling. We dated for a few months. He traveled quite a bit in his... work." She took a breath and finished calmly, "He asked me to marry him and-and I accepted."

"You don't like talking to me about your husband, do you?" he asked quietly.

"No," she replied honestly.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm afraid."
The stark words were out before she could halt them, and they had to be explained. "I'm afraid you believe that I'm seeing Brian whenever I look at you, and that's not true. And I don't want you to see Brian's ghost every time you look at me."

Staring straight ahead, Shane told her huskily, "When I look at you, honey, I see
you.
I see a beautiful woman whose life I very badly want to be a part of. If there were ten men in your past, a dozen ghosts at your side, it wouldn't matter."

Robyn took a deep, shaky breath. "Then can we put the subject behind us?
At least during the trip?"

He nodded, automatically glancing down to check their direction by the compass and then swinging the brass wheel slightly to starboard. "We'll put it behind us," he agreed.

This time, the companionable silence stretched for nearly an hour, broken only by an occasional comment. Robyn was enjoying the sound of the wind snapping the sails, the steady slapping of water against the hull, and the feel of the salt spray in her face.

A pair of dolphins joined them as Key Largo came into sight, and Robyn was completely entranced by their antics. The beautiful mammals leaped in and out of the blue-green sea, bright black eyes seeming to invite the watching humans to join their game. Robyn laughed in delight as their friendly escorts stood up on their tails and chattered gaily, clearly wishing their observers a fond good-bye before heading rapidly back out to sea.

She stared after them, unaccountably wistful. "Oh, Shane, aren't they beautiful?" she marveled.

"Beautiful," he confirmed softly.

But she saw he wasn't looking at the dolphins.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring, leaving the boat tied up in the marina. They put the past behind them and threw off the trappings of dignity and caution. Cheerfully, they became more and more childlike as the day wore on, each trying to top the other and stretching toward the heights of absurdity.

Shane solemnly told the other tourists on the glass-bottomed boat that his companion was his niece, home from school for the holidays, and he earned dubious looks from his listeners as they took in Robyn's somewhat revealing halter top and shorts. Robyn stared back at them, wide-eyed, and slowly blew a bubble with the gum Shane had bought her only moments before.

She got even with him sometime later, telling the owner of a small tourist shop they wandered into that she was being kidnapped and would shortly be sold into white slavery. The ploy wasn't very effective, however, since Shane was playfully leading her around by her braid.

The shopkeeper, with an expression that clearly said he'd heard it all, watched bemusedly as the "kidnapper" bought his "slave" a stuffed dolphin and a book on sailing. The odd couple was still arguing spiritedly over who needed a book on sailing as they wandered out.

They located a hot dog stand near the marina and elected to stop there for a casual supper after Robyn flatly refused to try cooking on the boat.

"I'm not even sure I can light that stove," she declared.

"We agreed to share the galley duty!"

"Well, you haven't done your share yet. You cheated with lunch."

"I never cheat-"

"So I'll cheat with supper," she interrupted firmly, sniffing at the delicious aroma of bubbling chili. She tucked her blue and white dolphin under one arm and smiled at Shane
sunnily
.

He gave her much-abused braid a tug. "You should be keelhauled!"

"What's that mean? They're always threatening that in pirate movies."

"It means something terrible.
Fatal, in fact."

"Then you can't keelhaul me. I'm your only crew."

Shane gave her a long-suffering look, tucked the small paperback on sailing into the waistband of his slacks, and reached for his wallet.
"Uh huh.
Tell the man what you want on your hot dog."

"What's he got? Let's see..."

Ten minutes later, they were seated on a bench near the hot dog stand finishing their supper. Robyn licked one finger clean and said thoughtfully. "Hot dogs are like pizza and spaghetti - impossible to eat with any dignity."

"To hell with dignity," Shane replied indistinctly, reaching for his soft drink to wash down the last bite.

"Dignity is important." she objected in the tone of one looking forward to a good argument.

"Only when meeting kings and presidents."

"And prospective in-laws."
Robyn wished that she could call back the comment, and added hurriedly, "And policemen."

"Doctors, lawyers, Indian chiefs?" he murmured, casting
her a
sidelong smiling look.

Robyn pretended she hadn't said that about
inlaws
. She explained apologetically, "It probably comes of being raised by a career-army father. I have a phobia about authority figures."

Shane crumpled up his hot dog wrapper and shot it neatly into a nearby trash can. "Any other phobias I should know about?" he asked politely.

"Well... there's my fear of water-"

"What?"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" She jumped up hastily, swinging her braid out of his reach. "Oh, no, you don't! If you pull on that braid one more time, I'll be bald!"