Always - Iris Johansen [22]
THE SUN WAS marvelously warm on her face, the breeze a soft caress scented delicately with salt and the musk-mint scent she had come to associate with Clancy. Something light fell across her knees, and Lisa reluctantly opened her eyes to see the blue cotton shirt Clancy had been wearing now draped across her outstretched legs.
“Keep covered,” he said tersely. “You’re too fair to be exposed to a strong sun for long periods without protection. You should have worn slacks instead of those shorts. Don’t you ever go to the beach?”
“When I get the chance. New York in the winter doesn’t offer many opportunities for sunbathing.” He certainly didn’t need to worry about burning, she thought as her eyes traveled idly over him. His massive shoulders and broad, corded chest were as deeply bronzed as his face and rippled with power in the afternoon sunlight. The triangle of dark hair, lightly peppered with gray, matted his chest, then narrowed to a thin line before disappearing into the low-slung waistband of his jeans. Lisa felt a sudden tingling in her palms as she wondered what it would feel like to put her hands on that springy cloud. Hurriedly she shut her eyes, closing him out. “Is it very hot in Sedikhan?”
“Yes, it’s mostly desert country. The hills can be very pleasant in the summer, though.” She could sense that his gaze was riveted on her, and she shifted uneasily in the canvas chair. There was a short silence, and then Clancy said, “Thank you for coming today. I was afraid you’d barricade yourself in your room after I made such a pompous ass of myself yesterday.”
“Who would refuse a jaunt around the island on a yacht like this?” she asked lightly. “Particularly anyone as sun-deprived as I am. Besides, being a poor benighted prisoner, I didn’t have much choice. You could have just thrown me over your shoulder and carried me on board willy-nilly.”
“I wouldn’t have done that.”
Was there a thread of hurt in his voice? It seemed impossible that she had the power to hurt a man as granite hard as Donahue. Yet he was one of the most boldly honest men she had ever met and so secure in his own manhood that he was unafraid to reveal vulnerability. She had found that out yesterday, to her intense disturbance.
Today he had been very careful to guard against making her uneasy in any way. He had been friendly, charming, and almost impersonal. The hours they’d spent on the yacht had been as golden as the sun pouring down on her right now. She had a sudden impulse to soothe the hurt she had so carelessly inflicted. “I was joking. I know you wouldn’t have forced me.”
“Good.” There was another long, peaceful silence. “May I ask you a question?”
She stiffened warily. “Perhaps.”
“Why did you marry him?”
“I’m sure you’ve seen pictures of Martin. He’s a very handsome man … quite beautiful, in fact.”
“Why, dammit? You’re not a woman who looks only on the surface.”
“I was at that time in my life. I’m afraid I was regrettably naive for a woman of twenty-six. I was an only child and my parents had sheltered me far too much from the realities of life. I grew up thinking I could drift along in that same serene way for the rest of my days, and that everything would be handed to me on the traditional silver platter. Even my singing career was more of a pastime than a vocation.”
“Baldwin,” Clancy prodded.
“I told you I had the princess mentality. I was twenty-six years old and Prince Charming hadn’t bothered to gallop into my life. So I started looking for him.” Her lips curved in a bittersweet smile. “Martin appeared to fit the bill admirably. Nordic good looks, charisma, well educated, and he wanted to keep the princess in her ivory tower. It was obviously