Sweet Promise Page 10

  The others were quick to voice their agreement, even Gloria. Gritting her teeth, Joanna thanked them, hating the fawning and the insincerity.

  "I'm delighted, that we met," Tony added, leaning closer. "And I'm hoping that we can stay in touch after this trip is over, maybe even get to know each other better. It's not all that far between New York and Washington. You could come up for a weekend and we could take in a play, or I could come to Washington and you could show me the sights."

  "Perhaps," Joanna replied noncommittally.

  She had been wondering how she could escape without appearing rude, but now she didn't care what they thought. She had to get out of there. "If you'll excuse me, I'll say good-night," Joanna announced quickly, pushing back her chair. Before anyone could move or protest she stood and headed for the door.

  Instinctively, Joanna sought the uppermost deck and fresh air. As she climbed the outside stairs the wind whipped her dress, plastering it against her body like a second skin. When she reached the top its full force hit her, and she had to lean forward and strain for every step.

  The sea was growing rougher. Dark clouds scudded like tattered banners across the sky, occasionally blocking out the moon. The threatening squalls had discouraged the fainthearted, and as she struggled forward Joanna found that she had the unsheltered deck all to herself.

  When Joanna reached the bow she grasped the rail with both hands and stood with her head high, face to the wind. It clawed at her upswept hairdo with rough, maniacal fingers, tearing several silken tresses from their moorings until they trailed out behind her and whipped the air in a frenzied dance. Joanna raised one hand and removed the useless hairpins and, one by one, tossed them into the ocean. With her hair flying wild and free, her white silk Grecian style gown molded to her slender curves, she stood motionless and stared moodily at the storm-tossed sea.

  That was how Sean found her. Small, proud, defiantly lovely—facing the elements and the night in brooding silence, like a ship's figurehead from days long past.

  Joanna started when he came up beside her and leaned against the rail, but she didn't move except to slant him a sideways glance. "What are you doing up here? I thought you were going dancing with Gloria."

  "I changed my mind." Joanna returned her gaze to the turbulent sea, and for a moment Sean studied her elegant profile in silence. "The question is, what are you doing up here?"

  "I wanted to be alone.''

  "I can understand that, but you picked a bad spot. It's about to rain and these decks are slick when they're wet. It's not safe. Come on, I'll take you back down."

  As he spoke the first drops began to fall, fat globules that splattered against their skin with an icy sting. Not waiting for her assent, Sean grasped Joanna's arm and hustled her back to the stairs. The wind at their backs pushed them along, aiding their retreat, and before the downpour began in earnest they had clattered down the two flights to the shelter of the covered Promenade deck.

  Farther down the dimly lit deck there were a few other people, but most of those were going indoors. Heedless of the fine mist that blew in under the shelter, Joanna moved over to the rail and watched the fierce deluge lash and merge with the surging waves.

  "What's wrong, Joanna?" Sean asked as he came to stand beside her. "Does it bother you that they found out who you are?" At her nod he frowned. "Why? I've never known you to be publicity shy. You campaigned for both your father and mother."

  "That's different. I don't mind working for a goal or a cause. That's not on a one-to-one basis. But being well-known can ruin your personal life."

  "How so?"

  "Oh, Sean. Didn't you notice how they changed? How the minute they realized who I was, or rather, who my mother was, they started to gush and fawn? I've always hated that. Thank God all that adulation from mother's public only spills over me occasionally. But just imagine how she must have felt all those years. You never know whether someone likes you for yourself, or because of who you are."

  "Mmm. I see what you mean. That's rough." He paused, then added, "But all this does prove my point."

  "What point?"

  "Don't you see? That's just all the more reason for you to keep away from guys like Tony. Involvement with Claire Drummond's daughter would give his career a boost, and you can damn well bet that he knows it."

  The words hit her like a slap in the face. She gasped and stared at him with wide wounded eyes, hurt pouring through her. The only defense against it was anger, and that came surging to the surface quickly. "Oh, thank you very much! First I'm a spoiled brat who's pursuing you, and now you as much as say that the only reason a man would be interested in me is because I happen to be Claire Drummond's daughter!"

  Sean winced, his expression chagrined. "Aw, Joanna, I didn't mean it like th—"

  "Don't touch me!" Joanna snapped, slapping his hands away when he reached out to grasp her shoulders. "Just stay away from me." Shaking her head, she backed away a step. "All right! All right! Maybe I am spoiled and headstrong and.. .and all the other things you've accused me of being. And I realized a long time ago that I'm far from being your ideal woman. But, believe it or not, Sean Fleming, there are some men who like me just the way I am."

  Her voice broke on the last word and she had to fight hard against the emotions that clogged her throat and threatened her composure. I will not cry, she vowed silently. I will not! Joanna glared at him, her chest heaving, unaware of the revealing pain that swam in her eyes.

  "Joanna, listen to me, please. I—"

  But she'd had enough. Ignoring his entreaty, Joanna turned on her heel and stalked away, calling back over her shoulder, "From now on you can keep your opinions and your advice to yourself. I don't need them."

  "Joanna! Joanna, wait! Let me explain! Oh, hell!" Sean hurried after her.

  Farther down the deck Joanna jerked open the door and rushed inside. Five seconds later, he did the same, and immediately barreled into an elderly, overweight woman, sending her staggering backward, arms flailing. Her purse hit the floor with a thud and a lipstick and several coins flew out of it and went rolling across the floor.

  "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you all right?" Sean asked distractedly, taking hold of the woman's upper arms. Over her shoulder Sean caught a glimpse of a slender figure in a white silk dress scooting around a small clutch of people in the passageway. Silently cursing, Sean ground his teeth.

  "Oh, my. Really, young man, you should be more careful," the flustered matron admonished. "You almost knocked me down!"

  "I'm sorry. I really am. But I'm in a bit of a hurry." Sean steadied her quickly, then retrieved her purse from the floor, scooped up her things and crammed them back inside, and stuffed it back into her hand. "Please excuse me, ma'am." Ignoring the woman's outraged gasp, he rushed off in the direction Joanna had taken.

  She was nowhere in sight. Sean sprinted along the passageway, hastily apologizing as he darted around people. When he reached the first stairway he came to a halt and grabbed the rail, his chest heaving. He looked down, and cursed vividly when he spotted a flash of white silk on the deck below. He'd never catch her before she made it to her suite.

  Grimly, Sean loped down the stairs after her anyway. Though he knew it was useless, when he reached Joanna's suite he stopped and knocked on the door. "Joanna? Joanna, I know you're in there," he said as loudly as he dared. He paused and waited, but still there was no answer. "Joanna, we have to talk. You're taking this all wrong."

  A woman emerged from her cabin farther down the passageway and gave him a strange look. With a muttered oath, Sean turned away and stalked the few yards to his own cabin. He stormed inside, slammed the door behind him and marched straight to the phone. When he'd punched out Joanna's extension he stood glaring at the ceiling, his jaw growing tighter as he counted off the monotonous rings at the other end of the line. On the tenth one he slammed the receiver down on its cradle. "Damn pigheaded female!"

  Sean shucked out of his dinner jacket and flung it onto the chair
. He flopped down onto the bed, shoes and all, and stretched out on his back with his hands clasped beneath his head. He stared stonily at the ceiling, his expression growing even grimmer as he recalled the hint look on Joanna's face just before she had bolted. Hell,

  I tried to explain, didn't I? But she wouldn't even give me a chance. What more can I do?

  Nothing. Not a damned thing, he decided angrily. If she wouldn't listen, he'd just let her nurse her hurt feelings.

  Sean tried to maintain his righteous anger, but his conscience continued to prick him, and after a moment he exhaled a deep sigh. He sat up and swung his legs to the floor, propping his elbows on his spread knees as he bent his head and wearily rubbed the back of his neck. "No, you won't," he muttered to himself. "You hurt her with your clumsy meddling, you idiot, and you owe her an apology. And the first thing tomorrow morning you're going to give it to her."

  It was a vow that was easier to make than to keep, Sean discovered.

  Joanna didn't show up for breakfast. When a quick search of the ship failed to locate her he went to her suite. He found the room steward there cleaning, and the man told Sean that Joanna had gone ashore as soon as they had docked in Barbados that morning. "With Mr. Longworth," he added with a sly grin that stopped Sean in his tracks.

  "You mean Doug Longworth? The singej? The one who's starring in the show in the International Lounge?"

  "Yes sir."

  Without another word, Sean turned and started slowly down the passageway toward his own cabin, a distracted frown drawing his brows together. Joanna with Doug Longworth? Lord! The very thought set his teeth on edge.

  Didn't she know the man was the worst kind of skunk when it came to women? Of course she did. Everyone, both inside and outside show business, knew that Long-worth used and discarded women like Kleenex.

  Sean let himself into his cabin, and stood in the middle of the floor, pulling thoughtfully at his bottom lip as he stared out the porthole at the Barbados dock. Maybe I ought to go find her.

  Don't be an ass, Fleming. It's none of your business what she does. And like the lady said, she is past the age of consent.

  Still, Claire and Matt wouldn't want to see her hurt. As their friend, the least I can do is watch out for her. Absently, Sean stripped out of his clothes, put on bathing trunks, then pulled his jeans and shirt back on over them.

  No. No, I can't do that. No matter how you rationalize it, it's still butting in. Slinging a towel over his shoulder, he left the room. Joanna has the right to do whatever she pleases. Even if it is a mistake.

  But it wouldn't hurt just to keep an eye on her. Make sure that Longworth doesn't get out of line.

  No, dammit! I'm not her keeper. Besides, that's not my style.

  All the way down the gangway the silent battle waged, but an hour later, after scouting three beaches, Sean found himself sitting on the sand, grimly watching Joanna.

  "All right! Way to go, baby!" Doug Longworth shouted when she dropped to her knees and brought both fists up under the volleyball just before it hit the sand, sending it skimming back over the net.

  Sean watched Doug reach down and help Joanna up, his jaw tightening when the singer's hands lingered at her waist. Joanna responded to his whispered comment in her ear with a chuckle and a saucy look and stepped away.

  Eyeing Doug Longworth darkly, Sean tried to figure out just what it was about the man that women found so fascinating. As far as he could see he was just another flashy punk with blue eyes, a perpetually surly expression and bleached blond hair that was about four inches too long. With a minimal amount of talent he'd managed to turn out a few hit records, but as far as Sean was concerned he was purely second-rate, as a man and as an entertainer.

  Joanna threw herself into the spirited game with the same zeal and determination she gave to aerobic dancing and trapshooting. Sean suspected it was how she approached everything. She lunged and leaped and put her all into every effort. And the whole time she flirted madly, not just with Longworth, but with Tony Farrell and several others. Sean, she ignored, though he knew perfectly well she was aware of him watching her.

  Despite Joanna's efforts, her side was losing. Mainly, Sean decided sourly, because her teammates couldn't take their eyes off her. Not that he could blame them. In that tiny white bikini she was a sight to tempt any man. Even him, Sean admitted grimly, cursing under his breath as he felt the stirring warmth in his loins. Her lithe body was firm and supple, her flesh tanned a delicate apricot, and she moved with a natural, unself-conscious grace that mesmerized, drawing the eye to those slender curves, those lovely, endless legs.

  Most of the men were content to just look, but Doug Longworth never missed a chance to put his hands on her. Watching him through narrowed eyes, Sean felt a savage urge to ram his fist through the jerk's face.

  Sean stood up and edged closer to the field of play, but Joanna studiously pretended he wasn't there. Finally, when one of the men on her team dropped out, Sean stepped in and took his place. He subtly maneuvered around the other players until he was standing just behind Joanna and Doug. A moment later the ball came sailing over the net in their direction and Sean called out "I've got it," and stepped between them, spiking it back.

  "Hey, watch it, fella," Doug sputtered when he bumped into him.

  For a few seconds, they slammed the ball back and forth across the net, and during the fast and furious play Sean ignored the other man's glare. Finally Sean smashed the ball with such power it hit the sand before anyone could touch it. While their side prepared to serve he turned to Doug, his black eyes as hard as stone, and said in a soft, strangely threatening voice, "I intend to."

  He turned and met Joanna's indignant glare and murmured, "I want to talk to you."

  For just an instant Sean glimpsed uncertainty and vulnerability in Joanna's eyes, but almost at once the coolness returned. Without a word, she stepped around him, and grabbing Doug's hand, began to drag him toward the water. "Come on, Doug, I'm tired of playing. Let's go cool off with a swim."

  He complied with alacrity, pausing only long enough to send Sean a smirking look over his shoulder before racing hand in hand with Joanna toward the water.

  Oblivious to the scrambling efforts of the others to keep the volleyball in play, Sean stood stock-still and watched the pair splash into the surf, his narrowed eyes a glittering obsidian.

  The mood in the Zodiac Lounge was gay, convivial. The dreamy music the band played blended pleasingly with the murmur of conversation, the occasional bursts of laughter.

  Outwardly Sean appeared his usual carefree self. He sat relaxed in his chair with a forearm braced against the edge of the table, the tips of his fingers lightly touching the rim of his glass, rotating it slowly. A languid smile of anticipation curved his mouth as Bill Adamson drew out his humorous tale. When he delivered the punch line Sean laughed along with everyone else at the table, but inside he was seething.

  As conversation flowed between the Adamsons and the Wrights, Sean lifted the squat glass of bourbon and took a sip. Over its rim his eyes once again sought the couple on the dance floor.

  Hell, you'd think they'd be tired by now, Sean thought as he watched the blond singer sway to the dreamy music with Joanna locked tightly in his arms. They've been out therefor the past half hour. And he's holding her so close they look like they're glued together.

  Beneath the table Sean's hand closed into a tight fist as he watched Joanna lean back in Doug's embrace and smile seductively. All day he had watched her flirt with Longworth and Farrell and several others. Whenever he had tried to approach her she always managed to slip away. This was the closest he'd been to her since she'd left the volleyball game that morning.

  Watching Longworth grin at something Joanna said, Sean's eyes narrowed ominously. When the little creep's hand slid down her spine and brazenly cupped her bottom, something inside Sean snapped. He made a harsh sound and slammed his glass down on the table with a thud. The others jumped and stared in astonishment as
he lunged out of his chair and headed for the dance, floor with long purposeful strides.

  Reaching around, Joanna grasped Doug's hand and returned it to its former position at her waist. "Uh-uh, none of that," she scolded lightly. Her tone was teasing, but her hazel eyes flashed a steely warning.

  The corners of Doug's mouth twitched upward in cynical amusement, "Sure, baby, sure." He pulled her closer and whispered in his sexiest voice, "I can wait."

  Joanna sighed. It was her own fault. She shouldn't have agreed to accompany him to the beach, much less flirt with him the way she'd done. Doug Longworth was accustomed to having his pick of women. That the evening would end any way other than the two of them going to bed together would simply never occur to him. And why should it? She certainly hadn't done anything to make him think otherwise.

  Joanna knew her behavior had been reckless and totally out of character, but darn it! She had felt reckless. Reckless and angry and insulted. Sean couldn't have made it clearer; he didn't want her, nor could he imagine that anyone else would. Did he have any idea how much that had hurt? It had been foolish, perhaps even childish, to encourage Doug, but she had needed to feel desired, to feel that someone found her attractive, no matter how fleeting or shallow that attraction.

  Joanna sighed again and gazed sadly over Doug's shoulder. Lord, it was awful to be attracted to someone who didn't want you. Unrequited feelings made you do the dumbest things.

  Worrying over how she was going to handle the scene that was sure to take place later, she didn't see Sean until the instant before he tapped Doug on the shoulder.

  The expression on his face caused her heart to give a little leap, but there was no time to head off the confrontation.

  "I'm cutting in, Longworth," he announced flatly.

  Doug looked at him as if he had lost his mind, then grinned nastily. "Not a chance."

  "Let her go, Longworth, or in three seconds you're going to be eating those pretty capped teeth."

  Surprise, then anger flashed across Doug's face. For an instant it appeared as though he were about to argue, but a closer look at Sean's smoldering eyes changed his mind.