Authors: Ann Cristy
Darby wrinkled his nose.
"Whatever that is!" He threw his thumb over his shoulder in the
direction of what Teel surmised must be the guests' sleeping quarters.
"Chazz is a good man," Darby explained, "but sometimes he crews
around with the likes o' them." Darby looked at the glass Teel was
holding, his bushy eyebrows quivering comically. "Drink all your tonic
now. Tomorrow you're to go up on deck and get some air. But I won't let you go
if you don't drink your tonic."
Teel made a face at him and
drank the licorice-colored brew.
He smiled at her, set the tray
on a table, and returned to sit on a chair next to her bed. "Now are you
going to tell Darby who you are. Sister? We don't even know your name, and you
haven't been strong enough for us to question you."
Teel stared at
Darby in surprise. He'd called her "Sister." But of course! She had
come aboard the
Deirdre,
as Darby called the yacht, wearing the torn habit. She opened
her mouth to tell Darby she wasn't a nun when a warning sounded in her brain.
It might be safer if she pretended to be a nun until she was safely back home
in Selby, New York. After all, she really didn't know these people, and what
she had read about Chazz Herman— he'd been written up in the tabloids as well
as in
World
magazine—was
not encouraging. She had refrained from mentioning his shadier reputation to
Darby, even though she was sure the little man was aware of his employer's
propensity for well-developed blondes. Even if half of what the yellow press
said about Chazz Herman were true, he was an unmitigated and unrepentant
womanizer. He went out with, and undoubtedly slept with, some of the world's
most sophisticated women, and some of the most common. He dined with royalty
and high-priced call girls, making little or no distinction between the two.
From the many takeovers he had successfully manipulated, Teel knew he was a
dangerous man in his business dealings. From the many scandal sheets that gave
extensive and colorful coverage of his escapades with women— including his
often tearful, usually indiscreet breakups with them—she knew he was ruthless
in his personal life as well. She had read too much about Chazz Herman to trust
him and wasn't ready to risk becoming his next sexual coup.
"Aren't you going to tell
me your name?" Darby quizzed, his pale eyes gentle on her.
Teel swallowed in a throat
that was desert dry. "I'm Terese Ellen Barrett, from New York."
"New York is a big place." Darby grinned at her. "And is your convent in Manhattan?"
"I'm in charge of a
school for exceptional children in Selby, New York, about sixty miles northwest
of the city," Teel told him truthfully. She had no intention of revealing
that she was a
lay
director of the Mary Dempsey School for Exceptional Children,
that she had once been a model during a summer break from college, or that she
had once been seduced by a man named Ben Windom, a New York advertising
executive. She shook her head, clearing it of dark memories.
"Is this a
school for smart ones, then?" Darby leaned back in his chair and tapped a
round-bowled pipe on the sole of his sneaker, catching the ashes in an ashtray
he held under it.
Teel smiled. "No. Our
children are mentally retarded and physically handicapped. For them it is a
vocational school, a school in which they learn to read and write, understand
signs and count money, and generally how to survive in a world designed for
people of much higher intellectual ability. We deal with children up to the age
of fifteen. A great number of our pupils are then sent on to a more advanced
training school."
Darby stared at her wide-eyed.
"And did you train for this, Sister, this special work?"
"Oh, yes. I did my
undergraduate work at Nazareth College in Rochester, New York. I also took
classes during the summer at Columbia University. I—er—I also worked there to
help support myself. I did graduate work at Columbia in order to get my
master's. Soon now I'll be finishing my doctoral dissertation," Teel
concluded, her voice a whisper.
"Oh, it's 'doctor,' is
it?" Darby's eyebrows danced up and down. "Well, I'm proud to know
you, doctor."
"I'm not a doctor yet,
but I will be in less than a year."
"Your parents must be
proud of you," Darby said, obviously fishing for more information.
Teel smiled at him. "My parents
are dead. They were killed in that plane accident in Washington a few years
back." Teel felt the smile slip off her face. "My Aunt Tessa, who
traveled with me to the mission, is my only relative now." Teel swallowed.
"I must let her know that I'm all right. She'll be so worried."
"Shhh, now. Don't upset
yourself," Darby soothed her.
"But... but she doesn't
know where I am," Teel protested, feeling a weakness assail her.
"I... I don't know if she's all right. I'm worried about her."
"There, there." Darby
patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I realize you've been worrying. When you
were so feverish with sun sickness you called out to her many times. A number
of nights Chazz held you in his arms while you cried."
"What?" Tell rubbed
her eyes and sat up quickly, experiencing a momentary dizziness that soon
dissipated.
Darby looked
surprised. "Don't you remember that either? Sure. Chazz heard you calling
out. You're closer to his suite than any of the other rooms. He thought you
would be disturbed less often here. The Turquoise Cabin is usually for,
well..."
"His women," Teel
supplied, feeling red run up her cheeks. "Well, I'm certainly well enough
to be moved into another cabin now," she said coolly.
"Don't be silly, girl.
This is the most comfortable cabin of them all except for Chazz's own
suite." Darby rose to his feet. "You won't be moving, but you will be
going to sleep."
"I'm not tired, really.
Stay a bit longer."
"No." Darby grinned.
"Chazz would kill me if you took a turn for the worse. He watches over you
like a mother hen." Darby frowned, making his grizzled face look like a
troll's. "But I'd like it better if he quit drinking and carousing with
that bunch. Seems to me he's been drinking even more lately." Darby left
the cabin, shaking his head.
Teel lay quite
still thinking, wishing she could get the owner of the
Deirdre
off her mind. He was
the kind of man she detested. Her one experience with Ben Windom had soured her
on the sophisticated, womanizing type, and that was Chazz Herman in spades. Of
course there were some differences between the two men. Ben Windom was a
product of old money, the best schools, the most prestigious clubs. He traveled
in exalted circles, yet Teel considered him an inferior person, more lacking in
integrity than anyone else she had ever met. She was sure Chazz Herman had a
similar lack of morals. From now on she would try to avoid that class of men,
she told her pillow, her eyes heavy with sleep.
A noise woke her
hours later and she sensed immediately that it was very late. The bumping sound
came again, and she sighed. Chazz Herman and his guests were staggering around
outside her cabin, probably on their way to bed. Someone was saying,
"Shush," but they made little attempt to lower their voices.
"Aw come on, Chazz honey,
I can get you in the mood," came a woman's slurred voice. "I know you
don't like us to come to your cabin, sooooo why not come to mine?" The
thick voice had a familiar ring to Teel, who was suddenly wide awake as she
strained to hear the conversation beyond her closed door.
"Dammit, Elise, I've had
enough. Now go to bed or get off the Deirdre." Chazz's voice wasn't as
slurred as Elise's, but he had obviously been drinking too. To Teel's sensitive
ears he sounded like someone picking a fight.
She let her pent-up breath out
in a
whush
when
she heard Elise's retreating staccato steps. Her muttered expletives grew
fainter and fainter.
Teel gasped as someone
suddenly opened her cabin door. She slid down further under the silk sheets and
closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Then she sensed Chazz standing over her,
staring down at her, and knew his lion's eyes were fixed on her as though she
were prey. They seemed to have the power to see through her subterfuge, to
X-ray and catalogue her thoughts. Just when she was sure he would say
something, or perhaps pull the sheet from her naked body, he turned and left
the room.
She heard a thud and a mumbled
curse. He must have stumbled against the doorjamb.
For long moments
she didn't move. Then, the sound of the lapping of the water on the hull that
came through the large, open porthole was muffled by sounds from the larger
cabin next to Teel's. Chazz seemed to prowl the cabin for hours, muttering to
himself and slamming into furniture. Finally he fell quiet. For a long time the
only sounds Teel heard were the creaking of the ship as it slid through the
waves and the splashing of the water against the sides. She felt certain Chazz
was asleep.
Teel willed the motion of the
Deirdre
to lull her to sleep.
But, what seemed eons later, she was still wide awake. Suddenly she wanted to
get up and move about. Though still weak, she was determined to find fresh air,
to put her muscles into motion. She sat up and shrugged on a terry robe that
lay on a chair next to the bed.
For a full minute
after she rose, she was sure she couldn't take a step. But the stars and
circles dancing in front of her eyes finally dissipated, and she was able to
take a firm footing on the shifting floor. One step. Two steps. Three steps.
She looked over her shoulder to see how far she had come from the big double
bed. She was halfway to the door. Three more steps and she reached it. Taking a
deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out into the passageway, which was
wider than she had imagined. The staircase leading upward was as broad and
twice as steep as any in a house. Would Chazz call it a ladder in nautical
terms, Teel mused as she calculated the distance to the top, which seemed
farther than the summit of Mount Everest, and determined to climb it. By the
time she reached the last rung, she was breathless and reeling.
The boat seemed to
sink and rise through massive swells. Teel knew she might have a rough time
keeping her footing even with the full moon to guide her. In her weakened state
she wasn't able to control the pull and thrusts of her body as the ship surged
onward.
"You damn little
fool!" Without warning two hands came round her, lifting her up and back
against a man's hard chest. The fingers tightened under her breasts as Chazz
sought to steady himself and hold her at the same time. "Are you trying to
kill yourself? I couldn't believe it when I woke up to hear you moving
around." He started to turn her away from the rail.
"No." Teel's hands
flailed outward. "I want to breathe. I want to walk a little and
breathe." Tears rolled down her cheeks and her head lolled on her neck.
Chazz's hand loosened under her breast and came up to press her head back on a
hard shoulder.
"All right." He
sounded amused, and the slight slurring of earlier was gone. Chazz Herman had a
hard head. He put her down but did not release his firm hold.
Teel reached out,
wanting to hold onto something, her hands weak as she tried to grasp the smooth
oak rail. She took deep, reviving breaths and closed her eyes in delight as she
felt the salty sweep of air into her lungs. "Oh, the night is so
wonderful." Teel wasn't aware that she had spoken aloud until the reedy
sound was pushed back to her ears on the heels of the wind.
"It is beautiful,"
he agreed, his voice husky in her ear.
For a moment Teel stiffened,
thinking she felt a light caress at her neck. Then she was sure she was
mistaken. It was only the wind. But how strange to have her body tingle like
that. She walked slow, precise steps across the undulating deck, relying on the
arms around her for the support she needed. Although her legs wobbled a bit at
the unaccustomed effort, she was elated when she reached the stem area. But as
she began her return journey, her knees buckled. At once she was swept high
into heavily muscled arms.
"Enough for you this
evening, Sister Terese Ellen," Chazz murmured hoarsely. "Why the hell
did you have to be a nun?" he added, ending with a muttered curse as Teel
tucked her head into his broad shoulder and closed her eyes against a sudden
giddiness.
"Tired," she
muttered into his neck.
"Are you,
angel? I wish I were. You seem to have the opposite effect on me." He
buried his face in her hair.
"Hair's a
mess." Teel's lips were so dry that she had to push the words through
them.
"But I bet
it's gorgeous when it's washed. That chestnut color must take fire." He
took the stairs easily and pushed open her cabin door with his shoulder, then
lowered her to the bed, pushing the now sweat-soaked terry robe away from her
body.
The cool air made Teel shiver.
She was hazily aware that Chazz had left her for a moment and returned with a
fluffy towel. He dried her body with long, gentle strokes, soothing her. When
he leaned over to brush the damp tendrils of hair from her forehead, she
reached up two limp arms and clung to his neck. His surprise at her move aided
her in pulling him down. It was he who held back when Teel's mouth moved over
his, her lips and tongue an invitation.