Sabrina stared blankly at the door, as stunned and bewildered as if he’d slapped her. Could it be true? She dropped into the empress chair, gazing unseeingly before her. Alex’s words had affected her deeply; it could well be he’d uncovered a truth she’d hidden even from herself. She sat until the golden rays of the late afternoon sun had faded to the melancholy lavender of twilight, her mind feverishly replaying her actions since she’d met him.
Good Lord, how cowardly could a person be. She’d always thought she’d have the courage and strength to face anything, but she hadn’t even passed the first test after she’d realized her love for Alex. First she’d run away, and then after they’d made love and he was edging her too close to a commitment, she’d shifted the burden completely on his shoulders, skirting her own personal apprehensions. He was right. She’d been afraid to trust him, afraid to tell him about David and her responsibility that might last a lifetime. And today when she’d subconsciously realized it was really love Alex felt for her, she’d tried to push him away again with that idiotic fit of jealousy.
How could she have been so blind—even to let Alex subdue his pride and be the first one to say the words that put a label on this magical bond between them! Love. What a beautiful word, and how harsh he had sounded saying it. She was at fault there as well, but she could at least make this right.
She rose suddenly to her feet and started determinedly for the door. She was through running away. She’d given so generously to David of her faith and her love but she’d been positively miserly with those gifts with Alex. Well, it was time for a change and she knew just how she was going to signal that change to him.
NINE
FORTY MINUTES LATER she’d finished showering and brushing her hair until it was a shimmering, fiery veil about her shoulders. Then she set about removing the evidence of those three freckles Alex had commented upon. The pixie would have to go, it was glamour she wanted tonight. After another ten minutes with mascara, eye shadow, and a touch of lip gloss, it was glamour she had.
Now for something to wear. The nightgown that Alex had chosen in Corpus Christi would be just right for her purpose. Its ivory satin sheen was not only complimentary to her figure and coloring, but though cut in the deceptively clinging style of the thirties it was really quite full. She’d need every bit of that fullness. She cast a last, critical glance at the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. She’d never looked more alluring in her life.
Then she was snatching the cassette tape Clancy had returned to her and hastening out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She stopped only long enough to grab Alex’s portable cassette player from the library before hurrying toward the French doors that led to the terrace. She paused there for a moment and drew a deep breath, aware suddenly of butterflies in her stomach. Strange—she’d never been nervous before a performance in her entire career. But then no performance had ever been as important as this one.
She slowly opened the door and stood there silently for a moment. Alex was standing with his back to her at the balustrade, looking out at the wine dark sea, and the full moon lent an almost daylight clarity to the scene. The warm gentle breeze was lifting the dark silk of his hair, and it stirred a fugitive memory. Why hadn’t she realized before that Lance Rubinoff’s portrait of Alex had been painted on this terrace? But perhaps it hadn’t been meant for her to know until now. At the moment it was easy to believe in a fate that would bring them full circle, from the portrait that was her first contact with Alex to this final confrontation.
She put the cassette player down on the glass breakfast table and though it made only a tiny scraping sound it was enough to cause Alex to whirl on her, with a wariness that filled her with remorse. There was a crackling tension she could feel across the space between them. What had he been thinking while he’d waited for her to come down?
Whatever it was, she couldn’t read it in the shadowed tautness of his face as he gazed at her for a moment that seemed to last forever. Then he gave a long, deep sigh that was almost a shudder. “Where’s Huckleberry Finn?” he asked huskily.
“I sent him on vacation.” She smiled with loving tenderness. “You know how he likes to go adventuring. I told him I’d keep you company. I don’t think you’ll mind the substitution.”
“Somehow I don’t think I will either,” he said thickly, his gaze flickering over her hungrily. “Why don’t you come over here and let me find out?”
“Soon,” she promised lightly. “But first I have something to give you. It’s in the nature of a farewell performance.” Her finger touched the button on the tape recorder and the terrace was suddenly alive with the throbbing syncopation of sensuous music. With a movement as graceful as the lifting of swallow’s wings, her arms rose above her head.
It was a poignantly beautiful dance at the beginning, moving as a stately ballet. She improvised as she went along, wanting to give him something as exquisitely meaningful as the love she felt for him. Then, as the tempo accelerated, she exploded into a passionate, sensual litany of desire. She was vaguely aware of Alex’s tense figure as she whirled and gyrated. Her shimmering hair whipped about her sinuous body like a flame.
For the man watching her, the dance seemed to go on for an eternity and each minute the desire for that flame of a woman was mounting to an almost unbearable pitch. Then when he thought that he could stand no more the music came to an end with a triumphant crash of cymbals, and Sabrina was kneeling before him in traditional obeisance.
Her breasts were heaving and her emerald eyes shining like stars as she looked up at him. “I have a present for you, Alex Ben Raschid,” she said softly. “All my love. All my trust. Forever.” Then, before he could answer, she was on her feet and running down the terrace steps to the path leading to the beach.
“Sabrina!”
Only a laugh answered him as she fled, all moonlight satin and flame, racing down the hill as if on wings. She didn’t look back but she knew Alex was following and she laughed again. She was so filled with excitement and a heady euphoria, she felt as if at any moment she would leave the ground and fly away. Her bare feet skimmed over soft, cushioning sand still warm from the sun, until she reached the palm-shaded hillock where they’d stopped that afternoon.
It seemed a lifetime ago, she thought as she turned and waited for Alex. He was only a few yards behind and in an instant she was in his arms, his lips covering her face with hot, scorching kisses. His chest was heaving from the chase, but the little breath he had he gave to her, as their lips clung with a passion that was painfully intense.
“No.” She broke away from him and hurriedly backed away. “Not that way.”
“Sabrina.” Alex drew a deep, shuddering breath, and his hands clenched at his sides. “My God, I can’t take much more. Any way, damn it!”
He looked so taut and strained that for an instant she was tempted to fly back into his arms. But no, she wanted more for him than that.
“I want it to be right,” she said gently, and slowly reached up to slide the satin straps of her gown from her shoulders. She let the bodice fall to her waist, feeling the warm breeze caress the swollen tautness of her breasts. Then with painstaking deliberation she slowly slid the gown over her hips, and let it fall in a shimmering ivory pool to the sand. “The performance isn’t over yet, Alex.”
She flowed toward him, her naked flesh shining in the moonlight like the satin gown she’d just discarded. She stopped before him and her hands reached out. He stood there, his body tense, scarcely breathing as she unbuttoned his shirt with steady hands. Strange they should be steady when she was quivering so inside.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me help you,” Alex rasped, as she pushed the shirt from his shoulders and down over his arms.
She shook her head, her hair caressing his bare chest. “No.” She brushed a kiss in the hollow of his shoulder. “I want to do everything for you.” Her hands were at his belt and unfastening his pants, while her lips traced a multitude of light, te
asing kisses across his chest and the springy dark pelt that narrowed to a fine line at his waist. Her lips traced that line while she impatiently pushed his khakis and briefs over his hips, falling to her knees to complete the task. Then he was tearing off his shoes and socks so that he was as naked as the woman kneeling before him.
“You know, of course, that you’re driving me crazy,” he said hoarsely. “Chinese water torture is mild compared to this.” He jerked suddenly as her tongue seared an extremely sensitive area. “Sabrina!”
Then she was on her feet, her arms sliding over his shoulders to curl in the silky hair at his nape. “Well, you did once promise I could taste you all over,” she whispered mischievously. “Aren’t you a man of your word?”
“Later,” he groaned, as his arms went around her, his hands cupping her buttocks and lifting her against his iron-hard arousal. “Much later. I can’t exist another minute without being inside you, love.”
As he lifted her higher her legs instinctively curled around his hips, and then with a frantic adjustment he plunged home, reaching his goal with a savage explosiveness that took her breath away.
“Alex!” Her arms tightened around his neck and her head fell to his shoulder. The sensation was unbelievable. For a moment she felt joined to a runaway comet, splitting the universe as it ran its fiery circuit. Then Alex was moving and the universe was being reborn with a power and velocity that made her gasp. She didn’t remember when he sank to his knees in the sand. She was too dazzled by the physical and emotional responses he was wringing from her with each bold thrust and tactile manipulation of her body.
“Lord, little flame, I can’t stand it,” Alex gasped. “I’ve never known anything like this in my life. The whole world is exploding!”
Then the world did explode, but neither of them cared when there was a galaxy of pleasure to be gathered from each rapturous movement, each lingering kiss, every stroking caress whose denouement was as beautiful as the climax before it.
Then they lay sated and dreamily euphoric in each other’s arms, joined in a union as blissfully peaceful as the other had been tempestuous.
“Alex?”
“Hmmm?”
“Did you like my performance?”
She could hear his deep chuckle beneath her ear as his hand gently stroked the hair at her temple. “Your solo was absolutely superb but it was our duet that really blew my mind. I can’t wait for the encore.”
“Alex?”
“Hmmm?”
“I hate to mention it, but this sand is tickling my back,” Sabrina said, shifting her shoulders to find a more comfortable position.
“I can see right now what a shrew of a wife you’re going to be.” Alex sighed, a smile on his lips as he looked down at her. “What other woman would have the nerve to complain after I’d given her my very best.”
“Was that your best, Alex?” Sabrina asked, her eyes twinkling. “I was hoping that practice would make perfect.”
“And now you’re insulting my expertise,” he said in mock indignation. There was a sudden mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well let’s just see if it was, shall we?” His hands moved down to cup her buttocks, and, holding her securely chained to his body, he suddenly rolled over so that she was on top of him.
“Alex, what are you doing?” Sabrina gasped, as he leisurely reached up to cup her breasts in his hands, his thumbs teasing her nipples into taut prominence.
“Enjoying myself,” he answered promptly. “You were so involved with teasing me before that you didn’t let me play with you.” He lifted his head to capture one engorged nipple in his lips and nibbled at it with tongue and teeth. “Have I ever told you how much I love your breasts?”
“I believe you have mentioned it,” she choked. Who would have thought, after that first wild, exhilarating culmination, that she could want him again so soon. She felt a sudden bold stirring within her and her eyes widened in amazement. “Alex?”
“Why are you so surprised?” He chuckled. “You should be aware of the effect you have on me by this time.” He sat up suddenly and swiftly lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips. “I think you’re right, this sand is a little uncomfortable. Hang on tight. I don’t want to lose you, love.”
She clutched desperately at his shoulders and her legs clamped automatically around him as he got to his feet. “Alex, I don’t understand what—” She broke off, unable to speak, while incredible pounding sensations surged through her as he ran with her down the short stretch of beach to the rolling surf.
Then, as Alex waded forcefully into the sea, she was deluged by a complexity of sensations that made her light-headed: The first shocking chill of the water against her warm flesh, the silky flow of currents around them, and the hot friction of their bodies as Alex started to move.
Later, she couldn’t have said how long that wild, heated union lasted in those moonlit waters, but she was so weary when Alex carried her back to the beach that she could scarcely lift her head. She was vaguely aware of being set gently down on the sand, then he was putting her arms into the sleeves of his brown cotton shirt.
“Where are we going?” she asked drowsily, as he scooped her up in his arms and started rapidly across the sand.
“Back to the house,” he answered, brushing her temple with a gentle kiss. “I don’t want you to get a chill. Just relax and let me do everything for a change.”
She wasn’t about to argue, when it seemed too much trouble to wriggle even a finger. She snuggled closer to him, his heartbeat a reassuring metronome beneath her ear. “You don’t have any clothes on,” she observed. “Won’t you be cold?”
“With you in my arms?” he asked mockingly. “No way, little flame.”
“That’s very complimentary, if not precisely accurate.” She chuckled, “This time I’m sure I’ve had your best.”
“Are you?” There was a glint of mischief in his eyes as he looked down at her. “You shouldn’t ever be that positive of anything without in-depth research. Look what I had to contend with in that sea tonight. Currents, water temperature, not to mention keeping both of us from drowning.” He cocked his head as if considering. “No, upon reflection, I’d say I operate much more effectively in a bathtub. Shall we try it when we get back to the house?”
“Later, perhaps,” she answered lazily. “I don’t think I could move a muscle at the moment.”
“Would you like to make a small wager?” he asked, and then as her eyes widened in disbelief, he shook his head. “Sorry, love. I can’t seem to get enough of you. You’re right, we’ll go to bed and I’ll let you rest.”
“You don’t have to give in so easily,” she pouted in mock disappointment. “I thought you’d at least put up a fight.” Then her expression became grave. “I need to talk to you, Alex. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Not tonight,” he said softly, his arms tightening around her. “We have the next fifty years or so to talk. You said everything that was important on the terrace. Love. Trust. Forever. Nothing else really matters, does it?”
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” Sabrina said huskily, nestling still closer to his dear, hard warmth. “Nothing else is really important but that.”
She didn’t realize until later what sound pierced the veil of her exhausted slumber, but suddenly she was wide-awake and sitting bolt upright in the king-sized bed. Her heart raced as if she’d been running. “Alex, did you—”
Alex! The pillow still retained the impression of his head but the covers on his side of the bed looked as if they’d been hurriedly tossed aside. She felt a chill of panic run through her and drew a deep, steadying breath. He was probably in the bathroom. Nothing was wrong, she assured herself. But the bathroom door was still open the way he had flung it when he’d carried her to bed from that outrageously sybaritic tub, and the bathroom was dark. And somehow she didn’t think he would have left her for any but the most urgent of reasons. Those last moments before they’d fallen asleep had been so poign
antly tender.… Damn it, where was he?
She was out of bed and across the room with a speed that reflected the frightening answer that had just occurred to her. Four kidnap attempts, Clancy had said. Her hands searched frantically through the closet until she found Alex’s white terrycloth robe. Oh, God, and three assassination attempts! Why hadn’t she insisted on the security men being quartered on the island? She shrugged herself into the robe and was tying the belt as she reached the door. She was probably crazy—and Alex would be downstairs safe and sound. Oh, God, let that be true!
Her bare feet skimmed down the hall and at the head of the stairs she gave a sigh of relief. The foyer was brightly lit, and so was the living room opening off it. Of course Alex was all right, how idiotic to imagine he could be snatched away in the middle of the night without her even being aware of it.
“Alex, why didn’t you wake me?” she called, as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Do you know how frigh—”
She broke off as Clancy Donahue, dressed in worn jeans and a disreputable navy sweatshirt, strode out of the living room into the foyer. His expression was set and grim. Sabrina’s breath stopped in her breast. “Clancy, what are you doing here? Where’s Alex?”
“At the moment I’m fixing myself a drink,” he said gruffly. “Come on, I think I’d better fix you one, too.” Then, at her horrified gasp, he said quickly, “Alex is fine. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Well, you did,” Sabrina said indignantly. “First you pump me full of warnings and forebodings, then Alex disappears, and you tell me I’m going to need a drink. How do you expect me to react?”
“I said I was sorry,” Clancy said defensively, taking her elbow and propelling her into the living room. “I’ve never claimed diplomacy is my strong point. I spoke without thinking, I guess I’m a little upset.”