worn when World War I broke out. I've known thousands of people, Alexi. Thousands. And out of that, only a handful could I really call friends, could I really admire. I learned to know people from the soul, Alexi. Appearances mean little; even words can mean little. What's in a man's heart and what's in his soul, those are the important things. Rex--he just doesn't like crowds. But then, well, I'm not so fond of fuss and confusion myself.'
'He has an awful temper,' Alexi supplied. 'And he has a way of being horrendously overbearing.' 'Does he now?' 'Yes.'
'Well, you have a way with you yourself, Alexi. You can't listen to good sense if you've got your mind set. Oh, here comes Rex now.'
Alexi glanced up. Rex, so dark and arresting that even in his jeans and polo shirt he was drawing fascinated glances, was coming back toward them, a thoughtful expression knit into his features. He scowled, though, as he saw Alexi's eyes on him. She felt a little chill run down her spine. He was still ready to kill. She might have added to Gene that he didn't seem to be a bit forgiving. But then, of course, maybe she deserved his anger for what she had said. Even for a male ego that wasn't particularly fragile, that might have been a low blow.
I just want you to love me! she thought, watching him Love me forever, believe in me, trust in me...
A pretty brunette in very short captain's shorts suddenly jumped up from a table, barring Rex's way. She had one of his books in her hands--a hardcover text. Rex paused, gave her a devastating smile and signed the book.
Alexi looked down at her plate again. She wasn't the jealous type. Things like that would never bother her-- normally. But she couldn't help wondering what Rex was thinking as he looked at the young woman. Was she someone that he would want to call once Alexi had returned to New York?
'Before I forget,' Gene was saying, 'I thought you might enjoy this.'
'Pardon? I'm sorry.'
Alexi returned her attention to Gene. He was handing her a small, very old and fragile-looking book that had been carefully and tenderly wrapped in a plastic sheath.
'What is it?'
'Eugenia Brandy wine's diary. She left it to me--I was always such a pesky kid. Interested in war and life before Mr. Edison came along with his electric lights. I thought you might enjoy it. She made entries after the war, but an awful lot is about Pierre, meeting him, running away with him. Very...romantic.'
'Oh, Gene!'
Alexi stared down at the little book. She would enjoy it; she would treasure it, just as she treasured the old house and the very special history Gene had always given her.
She looked up at him again. 'I can't take this. It's a family treasure--''
'Alexi, you are my family.' He patted her hand. 'Eugenia's family. Keep the book. Take good care of it.'
'I will!' Alexi promised. She leaned over to kiss his cheek. 'Thank you so much.'
He smiled at her, covering the softness of her hand again with the weathered calluses of his own. “No, Alexi, thank you.' He stood then, abruptly, an amazingly handsome man of immense dignity. 'I've got to go.'
'Go?' Alexi echoed hollowly.
'Good heavens, yes. I have a chess match with Charles Holloway in less than half an hour, and I'll be damned if I'll let that youngster catch me napping.'
'Youngster?'
'A mere eighty-eight,' Gene told her. 'Kiss me again, Alexi. It's an old man's last great pleasure.'
She kissed his cheek. By then, Rex had finished with his fan and reached the table. He shook hands with Gene.
'Have a good sail, now,' Gene said.
A streak of stubbornness flashed through Alexi. If Rex had been over at the other table, planning his future dates, then he should already be asking one of them out on the boat.
'I don't think I'm going, Gene.' They both stared at her. She certainly had their attention. She smiled serenely. 'Maybe I'll scout some nearby kennels for a good German shepherd.'
'Alexi, you know that you are making me insane,' Rex said softly.
'Really? Then I'm quite sorry.'
'Alexi, you're going on the boat.'
'Rex, I am not.'
He looked as if he wanted to explode. At the moment, it was nice. He couldn't possibly make a move against her.
They were in a public restaurant, and Gene was standing right beside him.
Rex looked at Gene. 'What the hell am I supposed to do?'
Gene shook his head. 'Women. They're very independent these days.'
'Yes, but is a man supposed to let one get herself killed?'
'That's up to the man, I suppose,' Gene mused.
Alexi, who had been watching the interplay between them, suddenly gasped. Rex caught her arm and dragged her out of the chair and threw her over his shoulder.
'You can't do this!' Alexi wailed. 'We're in a public restaurant! Gene...?'
The world was tilting on her. Rex was walking quickly past tables and waitresses and startled customers.
'Have a good time, Alexi!' Gene called.
'Rex, damn you, you can't--'
'Alexi, most obviously,' he promised her, 'I can.'
And, most obviously, he could. They were already out in the bright sunlight again, and Rex was hurrying down the dock toward a beautiful red-white-and-black sloop with the name Tatiana scripted in bold black letters across her bow.
Chapter 11
Alexi was dizzy. He was walking so quickly that her chin banged against his back and the ground waved beneath her feet. She spat out his name, then swore soundly. But he didn't seem to hear a thing--he didn't even seem to notice that she was ineffectually struggling to rise against his sure motion. 'Rex--'
He swung sharply--and made a little leap that seemed to Alexi like a split-second death plunge on a roller coaster.
'Rex!'
They were on the boat. He still didn't stop. Alexi had a blurred vision of a chart desk and a radio and a neat little galley with pine cabinets. They quickly passed a dining booth and a plaid-covered bunk and a little door marked Head. Then Rex barged through a slatted door and dumped her down on something soft. For such a tiny cabin, it was a big bed, built right into the shape of the boat and full of little brown throw pillows to go with the very masculine brown-and-beige quilt that covered the bed.
'This is absurd,' she told him, curling her feet beneath her and trying to rise to a dignified position. She got high enough to crack her head on the storage shelves that stretched over the bed.
'Small space,' he warned her. 'And you're absurd. Yes, no, yes, no--dammit, use some common sense and don't act like a school kid.'
'Me?'
'You!'
'You have the nerve to say something like that to me when you're acting like a Neanderthal?'
'It's better than behaving like a jealous child.'
'What?'
'This one all started because I gave out a lousy autograph.'
'Oh, you know, Morrow, you really do overestimate your charms. I just don't want to be here.'
He touched her face with his palm. 'Don't worry, sweetie. There's nothing to be afraid of out here. You won't need to sleep with me. You can have the cabin all to yourself.'
'I_'
Her rejoinder froze on her lips because--despite his bitter denunciation--he was slipping his shirt over his head. Still staring at her in a cold fury, he kicked off his shoes, then started to slide out of his jeans.
'What--what are you doing?' Alexi gasped out, pained.
