She looked down at her half-opened shirt in confusion. "But then why-"

"I'm going to get you cleaned up and into bed," he interrupted harshly. "And not to 'do it,' blast it! But first I want to take a look at your head. That bastard clipped you pretty damn hard in spite of what you said. I wanted to examine it back at the warehouse, but I didn't think you'd let me without putting up a fight and that would have been worse for you than the walk back to the ship."

"There's nothing wrong with me. I told you…"

He finished unbuttoning the blue shirt and pushed it off her shoulders, his hand reaching around to unfasten her plain white bra with experienced skill. "Bull. I was a professional athlete too long not to recognize the signs. You were carrying yourself all the way back here as though you'd break apart at any minute."

"You were an athlete?" she repeated, surprised. "No wonder you looked so coordinated when you dove through that window."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn't a circus acrobat as you thought," he said wryly. "I was a featured skater in an ice revue for a while and then a coach for an Olympic contender the next six years."

"And what do you do now?"

"At the moment I appear to be acting as a combination lady's maid and ship's doctor," he said crisply as he lowered the bra straps over her arms. "But usually I'm a glorified bum. The glory resulting when you're properly endowed with filthy lucre."

"I see."

"Do you?" He glanced up, his eyes narrowed on her face. "No recriminations for being a worthless playboy, no attempts at reformation of my wicked dissolute ways?"

"I don't have any right to do that," she said gravely. "And you don't seem all that dissolute."

"Perhaps not in comparison with some of your companions," he agreed grimly. He pulled the bra away from her breasts and then froze. He inhaled sharply. "Liane was wrong. You're not thin at all." He reached out and touched one breast with a hesitant, gentle finger. "You're full and beautifully, perfectly round." His eyes darkened to a smoky hazel. "And so silky." His finger traced a circle about the dark pink nipple. "Golden silk. Lord, I've never seen such skin, warm and soft and silky as a small child's. The first time I saw you in the bar I wondered if you'd feel like this."

"Well, now you know," she said shakily. She felt as if that lazy finger were scorching and searing as it moved and suddenly she forgot about the weariness and throbbing ache in her temple. She moistened her lips. "Have you changed your mind?"

"No," he said thickly. "My mind is still as resolute as ever, it's my body that's undergoing all the changes. Are you this tan all over?"

She nodded. "I like the sun. There's a little pool in the rain forest where we keep the Cessna that I sunbathe next to sometimes."

His finger touched the perky pink tip. "Nude?" he asked huskily.

"Yes." She could barely get the word out. "There's never anyone around." Her throat was dry and tight and she was sure he could hear the beating of her heart caused by his gossamer light touch. She hadn't realized before how sensitive her body could be, how a tentative caress could send hot signals to her entire body. She didn't have to look down to realize that her nipple was budding and her breast flowering for him. She could see it in the darkening of Beau's eyes. Strange, she felt as if all their responses were now curiously linked.

"I'm going to watch you do that someday," he said, his voice as velvet soft as his finger. "I'm going to sit and watch the sun pour down on you like golden rain, caressing you and making you glow." His thumb and index finger pinched gently and she felt an aching incompletion in her loins. "And then I'm going to come to you and make you glow for me. I want to feel you open and flower and tremble." She could see the wild cadence of the pulse beat in his temple. "I want to know that everything I do to you will make you shine and melt and flow." He drew a deep shuddering breath and shook his head as if to clear it. "I must be going crazy. For a minute I could actually see you lying there waiting for me to come to you." His hand dropped away and he stepped backward. "Come on, we'd better get you in the shower or I'm going to forget you're not fair game." He pulled her to her feet. "Get out of the rest of those clothes while I find something for you to put on." He strode to the built-in closet and slid back the door. "Tomorrow you'll have to make do with a pair of my shorts and a T-shirt while your own things are being laundered. Do you often have to make a run for it with only the clothes on your back?"

"No, this is the first time." She kicked off her tennis shoes and pulled off her jeans, her gaze fixed on his back as he riffled through the closet. "Actually, we don't move all that often. Jeffrey sets up operations and lets his clients come to him. We've been on Castellano for about four years."

"You make him sound like a corporate attorney," Beau drawled. "But from what I hear about Castellano, it must have been ideally suited to your friend's occupation." He pulled out an ice-blue satin negligee trimmed in fine Valenciennes lace. "I thought I remembered seeing this in there," he said, looking at it critically. "Barbara must have forgotten it when she left the ship at Barbados. The blue should be good with your eyes. Do you object to wearing another woman's clothes?"

Barbara? How many of his mistresses had occupied this cabin and why did the thought of those women hurt so much? "No, I don't mind," she said softly. "I'd be awfully ungrateful to be that petty, wouldn't I?"

"I'm glad you're so sensible. I know quite a few women who'd…" He glanced back over his shoulder and the words died away. She was totally naked and standing there gazing at him with clear unflinching honesty. No coyness, just the quiet serene acceptance that had so moved him before. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and weariness in the slight droop of her shoulders, but it didn't affect the valiant sturdiness of her stance. He must be getting old, he thought cynically, he'd never before looked at a lovely naked woman and only noticed how courageous she was. And she was lovely. Those beautiful full breasts flowed into the supple slenderness of her waist and hips and her long legs were strong and shapely. Her entire body was strong and graceful yet there was a fragility about her bone structure that gave her an air of intense vulnerability. Strength and vulnerability. The ambivalent physical mixture was echoed in her personality and he was finding it a very explosive combination, indeed. He glanced at the negligee in his hand and felt a sudden violent distaste he refused to examine too closely. He impulsively hung the robe back in the closet and pulled a white terry-cloth one of his own off its hanger.

"This will be more comfortable," he said tersely, sliding the closet door closed and tossing the robe on the bunk. "Come on." He opened the door to the adjacent bathroom and stepped into its brown and beige ceramic confines. He adjusted the water in the frosted shower stall to a warm soothing flow and stepped aside with a mockingly gallant gesture. "Mademoiselle. I'll join you in a moment as soon as I get out of these clothes." The frosted shower door closed between them.

She was glad the sudden hotness of her cheeks could be attributed to the steam that was rising from the water. It had been intimidating enough having him look at her for those long moments with that curiously enigmatic expression, but she hadn't imagined he'd be stripping and stepping into the tiny shower cubicle with her. There was scarcely room for one, much less two, beneath the spray. She drew a deep steadying breath and squared her chin. What earthly difference did it make? Now or later both minor and major intimacies would come at Beau Lantry's discretion. She'd better be prepared to accept that fact.

"Move a little forward, Kate." The frosted glass door was open and she instinctively obliged as Beau stepped into the shower and closed the door behind him. She could feel the warmth of his chest touching her back as he leaned forward to pick up the soap from the holder. "Let me get a little of this stench off of me and then I'll take care of you. Tossing garbage cans around and playing with gasoline and trash piles sure tests a man's deodorant." She could feel him moving behind her, occasionally touching her as he soaped his chest and torso, but she kept her gaze fixed rigidly on the ceramic wall in front of her. "Are you feeling all right? No dizziness or nausea?"

"No, I told you I was fine," she said quickly. Except for the way her heart was pounding as if it wanted to jump out of her breast. Except for her skin that was becoming so sensitive to the casual brush of his that it seemed to ache and burn with every touch. "He didn't hurt me."

"The hell he didn't." His hands were at her waist as he shifted her a little to the side so that the full spray of water would hit him and rinse off the film of soap. "I should have cremated the bastard."

"You almost did," she said breathlessly. His hands hadn't lingered on her waist for more than an instant, yet she still felt them there. "For a second I was almost more afraid of you than I was of them."

"Afraid?" She could feel his gaze on her but her own remained riveted straight ahead. "You didn't give the impression of being frightened. If I recall, you wanted to bust in there and take them both on by yourself."

"That doesn't mean I wasn't afraid," she said simply. "It was just something that had to be done. You always have to do what has to be done even if you're not very brave. You simply block out everything and get it over with."