Beverly Barton - Guarding Jeannie

As he waltzed her around the deck, Jeannie sensed the hazy glow she often felt just before connecting with another person's emotions. Then she felt the tiny electrical currents of awareness that came when she began picking up signals from within the other person. She could block these feelings if she tried hard enough, if she ended the physical contact. But this was Sam, unguarded and receptive. How could she not take the opportunity to share what he was feeling?

Jeannie. Sweet Jeannie. She was the very embodiment of femininity, of a woman's loving, nurturing nature. Her generous heart exposed her to the pain of others, and her healing touch absorbed that pain. How unfair life was, that a woman this gentle and kind had the ability to suffer the most excruciating pain for others, even healing them on a temporary basis, and yet was unable to ease her own pain, either physical or emotional.

Sam ran his hand over her buttocks, savoring the feel of the light peach silk covering her body. Pressing her against him, into his arousal, he kissed the top of her head. She sighed.

He wanted to take her mouth, to lift her in his arms and carry her away, to bury himself deep within her body. And he wanted her to know exactly how he felt. Slowing his movements, he danced her back against the wooden surface of the outer wall. She made no protest, verbally or telepathically. Indeed, she welcomed him, clinging to him, sending him a silent message of acceptance.

Lifting her off his feet, anchoring her between his hard body and the wall, supporting her with his arms, Sam circled her lips with the tip of his tongue. Her moist lips opened, issuing him an invitation. On the verge of losing his reason, he kissed her. She returned the kiss, enticing him with her body and her mind. He read her clearly, and knew she understood precisely what he wanted from her.

Her kisses were pure sweet fire, burning him in their intensity. Throwing caution to the wind, he devoured her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, gripping her buttocks, straining against her. She clung to him, joining fully in the savagery of his kiss, returning full measure the heat of his passion.

He knew that she felt what he felt, wanted what he wanted. And in a sudden, blinding flash of realization, Sam sensed her physical yearning and her emotional desires. My God, it wasn't possible! He couldn't have actually tapped into her feelings.

The pleasure for both of them intensified, building higher and higher as they kissed and touched, their bodies undulating to the sensuous beat of primeval mating. He wanted to rip her clothes off her body and take her, here, now, with no thought of the consequences.

He had to stop, or there would be no turning back. He ended the kiss, his breathing ragged, his face and hands damp with sweat. Jeannie pressed her face against his shoulder.

"Oh, Sam … Sam…"

He eased her slowly to her feet, slipped his arm around her and held her close. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart. When she tried to comfort him by taking some of his throbbing need into her own body, he stopped her, knowing she ached with the same painful desire that racked him from head to toe.

"I can handle it," he said. "I may not be as strong as you are, angel, but I'll survive until—" he cupped the back of her head in his big hand "—until you take away this sweet ache when we make love."

"Tonight," she whispered, not knowing where his desire ended and hers began.

"Tonight," he agreed, kissing her again, but ending the kiss quickly. "Come on, Jeannie, dance with me again."

"Oh, yes, Sam, I'd like that. I'd like that very much."

With her arms draped around his neck and her feet atop his, Jeannie surrendered herself to the sensual pleasure of dancing with Sam. He glided her across the deck, the soft evening breeze caressing their bodies as the twilight shadows surrounded them.

Glancing over Jeannie's shoulder, Sam saw Hawk standing in the doorway. Hawk nodded, then returned inside the restaurant. Quickly Sam checked his watch. They'd been on deck nearly an hour; it was time for Hawk to report in. Was Reeves still aboard the Royal Belle? Sam wondered, still trying to figure out why the reverend had made an appearance tonight. There was something not quite right about Reeves showing up at this charity function.

Feeling the sudden jolt of unease that hit him in the stomach, Jeannie looked at him, willing him to explain. He walked her to the deck's rail, removed her cane and placed it in her hand. Bending on one knee, he lifted her foot and slipped on her shoe, then repeated the process with her other foot.

He started walking them around the deck, but she halted, and he had little choice but to stop. Trying to block his emotions so that she couldn't pick up on them, Sam refused to look at her.

"What's the problem?" she asked. "What do you not want me to know?"

"There's no problem. I've got everything under control. Enjoy the evening, and don't worry." There was no need for her to know that Maynard Reeves was on board the Royal Belle . Hawk and Kane would follow orders and keep the man away from Jeannie.

She knew Sam wasn't going to tell her what was bothering him. She appreciated his wanting to protect her from any unpleasantness, but at the same time, she resented his treating her as if she were made of spun glass, some fragile, easily broken doll. With an unexpected flash of clarity, she heard the words fragile angel , and knew she'd read Sam's thoughts, without his knowledge.

He brushed the side of her face with the back of his hand, caressing her tenderly. "How long do you have to stay at this function in order to be socially correct?"

"I need to make an appearance in the gaming room." There was no point in pressing him about whatever was bothering him. Sooner or later, even if he chose not to share it with her, she would sense it. "We can play the slot machines or try the blackjack table. It doesn't matter, as long as I lose some money to set an example for the other guests."

"I suppose knowing their losses are going to a worthy cause will make losing a little easier."

Leading her inside to the restaurant level, Sam glanced toward the lounge. No sight of Maynard Reeves or Hawk, but Kane was headed in Sam's direction.

"I need to speak to Kane," Sam said. "Would you mind waiting back at the table for a few minutes?"

"All right." She patted him on the arm. "It's only a couple of yards away. I can walk over there without your help."

Acting as if he hadn't heard her, Sam escorted her to their table and seated her, then turned around and met his agent. Pulling Kane aside, making sure Jeannie couldn't overhear their conversation, Sam placed his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Where's Reeves?"

"Hawk followed him and his lady friend downstairs into the gaming room," Kane said.

"Did you get any information on the woman?"

"She's an invited guest, a widow whose husband left her millions."

"Any idea what her connection is to Reeves?" Sam was aware of how charming Reeves might be to a lonely widow with plenty of money in the bank and the right social connections.

"She's a new convert to his Righteous Light Church." Kane hesitated, drew in a deep breath and looked Sam straight in the eye. "She has a daughter who's a student at the Howell School."

"Damn!"

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Sam. After your briefing on the situation, my instincts tell me Reeves has some sick reason for being here tonight."

"Yeah, my instincts tell me the same thing. But he hasn't tried to approach Jeannie. He hasn't even made a scene by preaching against the sins of gambling, when I know for a fact that he's given the casino owners hell for the past few years."

"There's something going on we don't know about."