Follow the Sun (4 page)

She shook her head in amused disgust. Tess climbed a wide gangplank to the bow deck and followed a canopied side deck toward the stern.

The yacht’s windows were at knee level along the deck. Tess knelt down, one hand raised to tap on them. She really didn’t mean to peer inside, but the curtains were thin.

Jeopard Surprise, wearing nothing but an air of concentration, stood in his luxurious bedroom admiring himself in a full-length mirror.

CHAPTER 2

S
HE’D SEEN HIM
in nothing but swim trunks the day before, but, oh, what a difference the loss of that simple covering made. His rapt scrutiny of himself confirmed her notion that he was vain. But in his case, vanity was justified.

His bedroom was small; after all, the yacht might be impressive, but it wasn’t the
Love Boat
. So he was less than ten feet from her, and the sheer window curtains made him more tantalizing by screening him with gauzy white.

Tess remained by the window, her fist frozen in a tapping gesture, her insides dissolving into worrisome sensations of elemental attraction, her eyes riveted to the most undeniably beautiful male body she’d ever seen.

He wasn’t beautiful in the sense of a sleek, boyish Greek statue; for one thing, he had a generous supply of hair on his chest, arms, and legs. He had the torso of a boxer—blocky and compact, not top-heavy with muscle. His upper body tapered only a little into his
flanks, but there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh around his waist.

No. Jeopard Surprise’s beauty came from a combination of muscle, grace, and virility that epitomized masculine charms. The virile part lay docile right now, but it was awesome, nonetheless. Like a sleeping lion, it looked ready to spring up majestically.

She doubted that he was more than six feet tall, but his legs were long, like a runner’s, and they gave him the illusion of more height. They were wonderful legs, and the parts they adjoined, both front and back, were enough to make Tess sigh with plaintive admiration.

He might be preening in front of the mirror, but at least he was dignified about it, she admitted. He seemed very serious and intense.

Turning from side to side, he rubbed his hands up and down his stomach, stopping just short of the luxurious triangle of blond hair low on his belly. He nodded solemnly at himself, then twisted to look over his shoulder at his rump. He slapped it on one side as if he were testing for tone. Then he braced his legs apart and slipped a hand between them to poke his inner thighs.

Tess groaned in dismay as Jeopard stretched languidly, every muscle taut and inviting. He stared at himself in the mirror, nodded again, then slapped both hands on his chest as if to say.
Good stuff
. He had obviously concluded that his appearance was acceptable.

She more than agreed. And she had to get off the
Irresistible
before she went overboard, she thought raggedly.

Tess leaped to her feet. Just as she did, she saw his head snap up sharply toward the windows. Ice water poured into her veins. Had he seen her?

She tiptoed along the side deck and heard his cabin door bang open.

Stepping onto the dock, Tess halted. A dull, leaden feeling filled her stomach, while her face burned.

He could now be heard running across the bow deck.

She turned around slowly, her chin tucked, and gazed up sheepishly. He came to a stop at the edge of the bow. Her mouth dropped open, and she gasped.

Had this man ever smiled at her? Impossible. This man had nothing lighthearted inside him.

He was carrying a small cannon of a handgun, and the fact that he held it pointed in her direction didn’t help her feelings. But he’d put on a robe, thank heavens—at least she wouldn’t have to deal with his other weapons.

Tess backed across the dock another couple of feet, clasping her hands protectively over her chest. Jeopard Surprise stared down at her, and a deep frown formed between his brows.

“It was only me,” she called in a high, unnatural voice.
Please don’t blast little old harmless me, captain. I swear I’ll never peek at you again
.

After he scrutinized her for several seconds, the deadly look began to fade from his eyes. He blinked. His stance wavered, then relaxed, and he quickly lowered the gun.

“You? What the hell were you doing?”

She stared at the gun. “Fearing for my life.”

He glanced at the frightening piece of artillery in his hand. A weary, self-rebuking expression crossed his face. “I apologize. Don’t worry. I rarely shoot anyone I’ve sent flowers to.”

“I’m very glad.”

He remained still, studying the gun as if lost in thought. Tess watched with growing fascination as she realized that he was still rebuking himself for his reaction. Though frightened and puzzled, she felt drawn to him in an entirely new way.

Royce had often commented, with approval, that she loved to tease the limits of safety. It was evident in the way she drove a car, he said, and in the fact that she had married a jewel thief.

She hadn’t believed Royce until that moment. Now she admitted that she liked a hint of danger, and the
complex man above her offered not only that, but mystery.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I, umm, I came over to thank you for the flowers, and I … heard my boat’s alarm system buzzing, so I had to hurry.… ” She paused, frowning.

She was no good at such ridiculous lies. Tess lifted her chin and said defiantly, “Oh, hell, captain, I was coming to tell you where to shove your flowers. I accidentally looked into your bedroom window. After I enjoyed the show for a few seconds I decided to leave before you realized that you were being ogled. My only problem was that I decided too late. I do apologize, but you should buy thicker curtains.”

With that she turned and marched back to the
Lady
.

Jeopard stared after her while his senses slowly returned to a lower level of alertness. Ogling him, she’d said. Enjoying the show.

He began to smile sincerely, and it was such a foreign thing that he didn’t even notice.

T
ESS LAY ON
her stomach in the middle of her queen-size bed, crying without a sound, the antler amulet clasped in one hand. Dove Gallatin’s medallion clasped in the other, a book open in front of her.

When the bow alarm buzzed, she brushed at her eyes hurriedly and said a small thanks for the fact that she didn’t wear any makeup and therefore wasn’t smearing any across her face.

A warm California night had descended, and the dock was a sultry place of shadows and pools of light from regularly spaced lamps along the water’s edge. The other side of the dock abutted a thick concrete wall, and past it was a grassy lawn dotted with tall palms, beyond which was the marina parking lot.

Tess climbed the stairs from her cabin and found Jeopard Surprise standing on the bow, framed by a background of palms and suggestively shadowed by the dock lamps.

She halted at the top of the steps, her heart kicking into overdrive. He stood with one leg angled out, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of camel-colored trousers. He wore Docksiders and a white polo shirt.

“Well, Peeping Tess,” he said solemnly, “the least you can do is walk over to the Zanzi Bar with me and have a nightcap.”

She laughed, then applauded. “Bravo to your diplomacy and sense of humor.”

He nodded, his attitude quiet and thoughtful. “I understand this place, the Zanzi Bar, is an up-scale hangout for the boating crowd around here.”

“Yes.” Tess tilted her head to one side and studied him curiously. “You seem different. Subdued. Did my ridiculous antics unnerve you?”

He chuckled ruefully. “I haven’t met many women who’d have admitted what they were up to. It’s unfair. My standard approach won’t work on a woman as honest as you. I’ll just have to be myself and hope for the best.”

“Marvelous! I knew there was a likable, no-nonsense person behind that frivolous facade.”

“Honesty,” he grumbled. “I love it.”

“I’m too honest, and it gets me in trouble sometimes. But I do like your new attitude.”

“Good. Then let’s make friends. Come along, Cherokee princess.”

She gestured toward her shorts. “Give me time to change.”

“Should I alert the cavalry?”

She arched a brow. “After seeing you in action, I don’t think you need help.”

“In the bedroom, or chasing trespassers?”

Tess chuckled, felt her stomach drop languidly, and stifled a desire to answer, “Either.” She pointed over her shoulder. “You may wait at my patio table, captain. I promise to hurry.”

“I promise to wait.”

She kept her word, and came back above deck to
meet him less than ten minutes later. He sat at the table, slowly folding and unfolding a gum wrapper she’d left there, his head bowed in an attitude of deep thought.

Ah, yes, this side of Jeopard Surprise was more intriguing by the minute.

“I’m ready, Sundance. Stop thinking so hard.”

He looked up, stood gracefully, and swept a slow gaze over her softly draped sundress of earth-tone shades. His assessment was bold enough to make her breasts tingle but debonair enough to avoid offense.

“Sundance?” he repeated.

“Surely people have told you that you could be Robert Redford’s younger brother.”

“Hmmm. I don’t feel like a
younger
anything.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-eight.”

She hadn’t yet gotten a close look at his face. During the events of the past two days he’d either been a few yards away from her, or wearing sunglasses, or camouflaged by his bedroom curtains.

Even now the light was dim, making it difficult to study him. On impulse Tess reached for his hand and tugged. “Step forward, pops, and let me have a look at your wizened old face.”

He smiled a little and did as she asked.

When she stood less than a foot from him in a soft beam of light from the dock lamps, she could only stare up at him blankly, mesmerized. It was a distressful thing to have her mind go on vacation simply because his somber blue eyes were studying her back intently.

Tess murmured something without knowing what she said.

“Thank you,” he answered. “I feel so much better.”

She broke the spell by laughing softly and stepping back. But he wasn’t through stunning her, and he stepped forward.

“If I put on some Ella Fitzgerald and we do this repeatedly, we’ll be dancing,” she quipped.

“I like your taste in singers. Okay, where did you get those silver-blue eyes?”

“Daddy married a Swedish girl and took her off to his teepee. Pardon me, his wigwam. Cherokees didn’t live in teepees.” Tess gazed up at him in silence, trembling inside, her eyes riveted to his. “Yours are a darker shade of blue.”

They were beautiful, intelligent eyes, she thought, and yet there was something shadowed about them, a coldness deep beneath the surface. But since the coldness wasn’t directed toward her, she wouldn’t worry about it yet.

He brushed a fingertip along the soft underside of her left eye, then her right.

Tess didn’t know whether the boat was rocking or her equilibrium had just faltered. He’d touched her with incredible gentleness, using the same fingertip that had curled so expertly around the trigger of a deadly gun. The thought somehow reassured her that she had no reason to fear him, though others undoubtedly did.

She took a slow, reviving breath.

“Yes, my mother was Swedish. How’s that for intriguing? A Swedish mother and a Cherokee father—I don’t know whether to say
Yah?
or
Row?
”

His mouth quirked up in delight. He seemed surprised that he found her so entertaining. After another second, he tilted his head back and laughed richly. Tess bit her lip and gazed at him with concern. If he kept this more mature charm going, she was in trouble.

“Damn, I haven’t laughed like that—” He caught himself, smiled pensively at her, then frowned. He took her chin between his fingers and turned her face to one side and then the other, letting light fall directly on it. “Have you been crying?”

It was hard to remember what she’d been doing. “I was reading an account of the Trail of Tears. You
know—when the U.S. government forced the Cherokees to leave the southeast and go to Oklahoma. It happened in 1838. Thousands of people died.” She hesitated, then added softly, “My people.”