Authors: Ann Cristy
"I don't see you as a
nun,
Sister Terese Ellen, "
he said, ignoring her startled gasp
He took her arm
without another word and led her to one of the gambling tables where he stopped
and looked down at her, a muscle tensing in his jaw. "This is a baccarat
table,
Sister.
I'm
going to play. You may watch or wander—or play." He dropped a roll of
bills in her hand, then sat down in one of the chairs.
A dozen questions
crowded Teel's tongue, but there were too many people looking at her already.
She didn't relish a verbal confrontation with Chazz in this posh public place.
She wandered away,
the money clutched in her fist. Nothing interested her until she came to the
black-jack table. She remembered playing twenty-one with her father when she
was a child, but they had played for matches. She sat down at an empty place
and plunked down a bill that the croupier changed immediately into chips. When
he looked at her, his head inclined, she nodded. The fast deal mystified her.
She was glad when she lost and could rise from the chair, shaking her head when
the croupier gave her a questioning look.
She sighed and wandered
aimlessly, startled when a glass of white wine was pushed under her nose. She
looked up at a medium-tall man with thinning hair and shook her head.
"Are you
sure?" he asked. "Well then, would you like to play roulette with me?
You might bring me luck."
Teel shook her head, her smile
cold. "No thank you. I'm with someone."
The balding man took her arm,
his thin hands surprisingly strong. "Oh, come along and play," he
insisted.
Suddenly Chazz loomed large at
Teel's side.
"Walk while you still
have two unbroken legs," he bit out, his smile grim. The balding man
melted away.
Teel faced Chazz, the silver
cast to his skin and the light in his amber eyes clues to his fury. Her own
anger rose hot in her throat. "You didn't have to come on like the mob's
leading hit man," she accused him.
"Should I
have let that cheap shill strong-arm you to the roulette table?" He bit
through the words as though he were chewing steel.
"I thought you only went
to places that wouldn't have cheap shills," she pointed out, her chin
thrust forward.
"You
said that, I didn't." He took her arm, swallowed the
contents of his glass and led her toward what seemed to be a night club with
music for dancing and a small floor show. "I need a drink," he said.
"You just had one."
Teel tried to pry his fingers from her arm as they followed a maitre d' to a
table.
"With you I
seem to drink more." His mouth was close to her ear as he transferred his
grip to her waist.
"Is that possible?"
she countered. "When Elise and Clare and the others were aboard you were
always blitzed," she said baldly.
"Sister,
how you talk!" Chazz seated her and ordered a double
Irish whiskey, raising his black brows when Teel insisted on Perrier and lime.
The waiter informed her they were out of Perrier. Teel frowned as Chazz shot
her a mocking grin.
"Then I'll have
Gerolsteiner Sprudel please—with lime." She explained that it was a German
charge water.
"Oh Lord." Chazz
regarded her in exasperated amusement. "It wouldn't hurt you to have a
drink, you know." He lit one of his ever-present cheroots.
"And it
wouldn't hurt you
not
to have one." Teel looked away toward the comedy act
that was just beginning on the stage. She had thought she had seen and heard
bawdy material, but this show brought home to her with terrific force that she
was just a babe in arms. In minutes her face was flushed with embarrassment.
She had no idea that Chazz had
hitched his chair closer to hers until he spoke directly in her ear.
"Forgive me. I was stupid to bring you here. Shall we leave? I forgot how
bad these sometimes are."
The thought of
walking through all those laughing people, perhaps drawing attention to
herself, perhaps having one of the comedians spotlight her with a lewd remark,
sapped her strength. She shook her head, but when Chazz's arm went round her
shoulder, she was glad to sink back against him. Somehow the show didn't seem
so bad that way. It surprised her to realize she was sorry when the act ended
and the lights came up. She hadn't wanted to move away from Chazz. As it was,
even when she straightened, they weren't far apart. Chazz kept his chair close
to hers.
When the band began to play
dancing music, Chazz lifted Teel from her chair and led her onto the floor.
"Now don't tell me nuns don't dance," he said. "This is a unique
situation and one dance won't hurt." A devilish light glimmered in his
golden eyes, but Teel attributed it to the Irish whiskey he continued to tip
down his throat.
Teel had always loved to dance
and had taken ballet lessons when she was a child. It didn't surprise her that
Chazz was a very good dancer. A man who moved as well as he did, not only
walking but also swimming, had to be good on the dance floor.
"Well, well, Sister
Terese Ellen has another talent," he commented wryly. "You continue
to surprise me, or do you?" He swung her away from his body and Teel
laughed out loud. She felt his intent gaze on her, but she was having too much
fun to pay attention.
They danced slow, fast, and
even waltzed. When the band played a polka, Teel moved to sit down but Chazz
wouldn't let her. He whirled her expertly around the room, seeming to know all
the nuances of the dance.
"Where did you learn
that?" Teel gasped.
"You forget I was raised
on the sidewalks of New York. We danced all the time. My father and mother and
later my aunt had friends of all ethnic persuasions who encouraged me to take
part." Chazz didn't seem as winded as Teel and had no trouble talking with
her. That alone made her itch to get back at him somehow.
When they returned to the
table, Teel reached for her seltzer water and drained the glass. Chazz had
already finished his Irish whiskey, but he ordered another.
They danced again and then
rested while the band took a short break. Teel was having fun, and if she had a
niggling suspicion that Chazz was drinking more than even his hard head could
handle, she pushed the thought aside. She was enjoying herself more than she
had in years. She needed it.
Near the end of the evening
the band played more slow tunes, and though they often returned to the table to
quench their endless thirst, Chazz and Teel still managed to dance most of the
time. When Chazz first put both arms around her, Teel stiffened, but when she
pushed at his arms, he pulled her closer. She shrugged and relaxed. Everyone
else in the room was embracing the same way.
They danced and
danced. Other couples left and still they danced. Finally they were the last
ones on the dance floor. The music was mellow and smooth and Teel became even
more comfortable with her arms looped up around Chazz's neck. Their bodies
seemed fused, as though the two worked as one Teel had never felt so relaxed
yet so tense with excitement. She could feel every sinew in his thighs. His
arms seemed to cocoon her. His fingers seemed to touch every pore. When his
mouth moved over her cheek, she began to draw back, but he wouldn't let her.
"Beautiful, beautiful," Chazz murmured, his lips teasing her ear.
"You're not what you seem, lady mine." His voice was thick.
"We'd better go
now," Teel whispered. "You're being foolish."
"Yes."
Chazz kept her
close to him as they returned to the table to retrieve Teel's wrap and clutch
purse. He gulped down the last of his drink, then signed the bill without
looking at it, his eyes never leaving Teel's face. She said good night to the
maitre d' while Chazz still looked at her, his fingers kneading the flesh at
her waist.
The balmy night sky was filled
with stars. When Teel looked up, Chazz turned to face her. "I have to,"
he murmured, "even if you hate me for it." And in the warm darkness
he pulled her into a tight embrace. His mouth was open on hers, hers open as
well—in surprise. Her heart hammered in fear and excitement. She had known
Chazz was as aware of her as she was of him, but she had felt safe in her guise
as a nun. Now the barriers between them had been broken and she was no longer
safe at all.
She struggled at
first, her hands pulling at the fingers that cupped her face, but Chazz took no
notice. His fingers tightened. His tongue soothed her lips, then invaded her
mouth, searching, savoring.
A hot sword seemed to pierce
Teel. No, it couldn't be happening to her again. No man could scale her
defenses. No man could touch her!
One warm hand left
her face to trail down her neck and over her shoulder, then lower to softly
cover her breast. "Darling," Chazz groaned.
"No... not like this...
no..."
"You're right,"
Chazz whispered into her neck before he swept her up into his arms.
"You're so beautiful. Do you know that?"
Teel stared at him, clutching
his neck, a niggling snake of panic uncoiling in her stomach. "Where are
you taking me?"
"To the
Deirdre."
Teel let out a sigh of relief.
"Good. I'm tired."
"Are you, darling?"
Chazz's voice was slurred as she'd heard it once before. The whiskey was having
its effect.
Teel was determined to head
for her stateroom the moment she boarded the yacht. She watched intently as
Chazz fired the dinghy, his movements less precise than usual. He really had
drunk a great deal this evening. Thank God she was sober, Teel thought. How
horrible it would be if she had drunk something. How vulnerable she'd be if he
ever made any moves toward her. As it was, her senses seemed heightened by the
evening she'd spent with Chazz. Even now as they sped across the water toward
the
Deirdre,
she
could almost feel the warm touch of his hands on her waist and back when they'd
danced.
As Chazz tied the
dinghy to the landing grid, Teel hurried up the ladder. She was halfway down
the wide set of stairs leading to her cabin when a hand closed over her arm.
She shivered as she turned. "I'm tired, Chazz. I'm going right to
bed." "Good, so am I. But I brought you something to help you
sleep." He raised the bottle in his hand. "I told Darby to leave this
in the lounge for us. lust one."
Teel shook her head. "I'm
too tired to go back to the lounge. I'll just say good night here." She
entered her cabin and turned to see that Chazz had followed her. She opened her
mouth to argue, but the glitter in his eyes stopped her. "All right,"
she conceded. "Just a small one. Shall we go back to the lounge?"
"Nope." Chazz
grinned, then brought his other hand from behind him He held mo glasses. He sat
down on the bed and poured the cognac.
Teel sat on the edge of a
bench, thinking that Chazz didn't need any more to drink and certainly not the
generous portion of brandy he had poured into his glass. She looked at her own
glass and knew that she wouldn't be able to finish it.
Chazz raised his snifter
toward hers. "To us."
"Good luck," Teel
said, and she sipped the aromatic liqueur, welcoming its hot bite as a sudden
chill made her shiver. She had a sense of waiting, of not being able to move
because a large invisible hand held her in place. She didn't believe in destiny
or Kismet, she told herself. She should just get up and leave. But her body
refused to do what her mind urged.
Chazz finished his
cognac, came over to her, and lifted her from the bench. "Let me help you
drink that," he said, taking the snifter from her hands and tipping the
contents into his mouth.
"You've had enough,"
Teel said through dry lips.
"Have I, darling? Then
you have some." He fitted the snifter gently to her lips and let some of
the liquid trickle into her mouth, then turned the glass and let his own lips
drink from the same spot, his eyes never leaving her face.
Teel felt as if she were
falling backward through space. Chazz was standing so close that the hairs on
their bodies might have been touching. A personal electricity generated between
them seemed to have fused them together. Mesmerized, Teel felt Chazz outline
her lips with one finger, delineate her jaw, smooth the line of her brow, and
snake toward her ear. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, but
suddenly his tongue was there, moistening her dry lips and entering her mouth
like a brand. Against her will, her eyes fluttered shut. She felt hot, stinging
bites on her neck that came lower and lower. Her skin caught fire, and her
flesh seemed to curl in the heat. She tried to protest, tried to fight the
heat, but all that came out was a groan. Instead of pushing Chazz away, her
hands clasped his waist as his hands and mouth made sensual forays over her
body.
A sudden feeling of being
swung into space made sense when she opened her eyes to find Chazz lifting her
in his arms and carrying her to the bed. She met his liquid gold gaze and tried
to struggle away from him. "No."
"Yes." She felt
rather than heard the throbbing answer as he lowered his body to hers.
"Drop the disguise and admit you're mine," he mouthed almost
inaudibly against her skin.