Escapade

Escapade Diana Palmer Passion blooms between business rivals in this alluring tale from New York Times bestselling author Diana PalmerWhen her father dies, heiress Amanda Todd inherits a nearly bankrupt newspaper that she's determined to bring back from the dead. But controlling interest lies with mysterious millionaire Joshua Lawson, a man even more stubborn than he is handsome. So she heads off to Josh’s Caribbean estate to show him how she can save the failing business. Sparks fly as Amanda and Josh butt heads; she's never been so attracted to any man before, let alone one whose support she needs to resurrect her family legacy.And he knows full well how much is riding on this. Can this beauty convince him he’s met his match in business…and love? Passion blooms between business rivals in this alluring tale from New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer When her father dies, heiress Amanda Todd inherits a nearly bankrupt newspaper that she’s determined to bring back from the dead. But controlling interest lies with mysterious millionaire Joshua Lawson, a man even more stubborn than he is handsome. So she heads off to Josh’s Caribbean estate to show him how she can save the failing business. Sparks fly as Amanda and Josh butt heads; she’s never been so attracted to any man before, let alone one whose support she needs to resurrect her family legacy. And he knows full well how much is riding on this. Can this beauty convince him he’s met his match in business...and love? Also By Diana Palmer (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7) Long, Tall Texans Fearless Heartless Dangerous Merciless Courageous Protector Invincible Untamed Defender Undaunted The Wyoming Men Wyoming Tough Wyoming Fierce Wyoming Bold Wyoming Strong Wyoming Rugged Wyoming Brave Morcai Battalion The Morcai Battalion The Morcai Battalion: The Recruit The Morcai Battalion: Invictus The Morcai Battalion: The Rescue Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) Escapade Diana Palmer www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) ISBN: 978-1-474-08580-9 ESCAPADE © 2018 Diana Palmer Published in Great Britain 2018 by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher. ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries. www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) Dear Reader (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7), I wrote Escapade in 1992. It seems like forever ago. Back then, I still had many of my contacts in the newspaper business, and access to many sources who were willing to help out an old reporter who needed detailed information for a fictional novel. Ah, glory days. The plot revolves around a young woman, Amanda Todd, whose parents left her half interest in a small newspaper. It’s run by a former reporter who thinks the job press is useless and wants to get rid of it. She, on the other hand, thinks the job press has great potential and she goes to work, behind his back, to make it pay. Seething about controlling interest of her inheritance being left in the hands of Joshua Lawson, a millionaire playboy, she also has to convince him that she knows how to manage a business. It doesn’t help that she’s in love with him, and he works hard at keeping her at arm’s length because of a tragic secret that he can’t share with her. The newspaper boss becomes involved with a married employee, a circumstance that will put the heroine in great danger of losing her life and finally convince the hero that, in the end, love is far more important than business. It’s like going back in time for me. The visiting journalists who come to see the newspaper are the family of my Georgia boss, the incredible Amilee Graves. There was a photo of her on the wall, having breakfast with JFK in Washington, DC. She was one of the first female newspaper publishers, one of the first female mayors. She was elected mayor one time by acclamation when she wasn’t even running for office! She and my best friend Ann, who worked there with me, were my inspiration. Ann still is. Best traveling companion on earth. Our husbands wouldn’t travel, so we did. So many adventures. They would truly fill a book! Thanks, Ann, for being my friend for so many years. Fedora hat, whip, bad attitude—that’s us. Female Indiana Joneses, lol. As always, I am your biggest fan. Diana Palmer To my sister, Dannis Spaeth Cole Contents Cover (#u9a885f77-9056-5466-8d1f-e207c678babd) Back Cover Text (#u464b44a1-a173-545b-bf3a-7ee81f9b99cd) Booklist (#u4185312b-8699-5180-a2e7-7829d9f1f50d) Title Page (#ufc99a6c4-61ff-5207-8689-6e226fc7f973) Copyright (#u34d9c597-96d4-5642-aa7b-e355b60eafb7) Dear Reader (#u59b50835-eb5f-5131-98ec-5529c0cff1c3) Dedication (#u176edfd2-2d0b-56d9-b5d7-d449bedc0557) CHAPTER ONE (#ufc8ad396-9eb1-5488-87b2-5f78b983d6d2) CHAPTER TWO (#ud5d03dcc-0288-57b6-9108-e29e4bfbc816) CHAPTER THREE (#u5c2903a3-579d-5cb4-a8ad-86ab2a3f02e9) CHAPTER FOUR (#u5b1484d7-223c-55c9-80f2-153436ee1f2c) CHAPTER FIVE (#ub8bf8f78-6097-5a7c-9d40-6eb5b271dc2b) CHAPTER SIX (#ueccad02e-8e0d-5c3f-affb-a3eb07dbbd9d) CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo) Extract (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER ONE (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7) THE COLORFUL, NOISY crowd on the docks at Prince George Wharf was a breath of fresh air to Amanda Todd after the sad, somber atmosphere of her home in San Antonio, Texas. She was enchanted with the way the musical accents of British speech mingled with native patois in the European-class boutiques. Usually she would have had time to shop and enough money to indulge her whims. Since her father’s funeral three days ago, however, her finances had become an unholy tangle. She worked at her family’s weekly newspaper and job press but her father’s will had stipulated that she wouldn’t inherit the company until she reached the age of twenty-five, in two years, unless she married first. Harrison Todd hadn’t held modern views concerning women in business. In fact, he’d screamed bloody murder when Amanda had pursued her dream of a degree in accounting at college, but Josh had prepared her for that. It was Joshua Cabe Lawson, her late father’s business partner, who had always supported her while her father was alive, and even now he was watching over her. He had arranged for her to fly to Nassau’s Opal Cay in the Bahamas on one of the Lawson Company’s Learjets. So she could spend one week on his island recharging her emotional batteries. Drained and worn out, Amanda hadn’t argued with him. Besides, Josh was executor of Harrison Todd’s will, which meant Amanda’s financial future was temporarily in his hands. She was certain that would lead to a lot of arguments, for Josh was no less strong-willed than she. In spite of the fact that Josh had always championed her cause, they had lately become sporting adversaries. The Lawson Company of San Antonio, Texas, was a computer conglomerate that produced both mainframe and personal computers. Its international success meant that Josh, as its president, traveled often. His brother, Brad, was vice president of marketing, and had the charm and charisma his older brother sometimes lacked. Brad and Amanda had known each other since childhood. Although they’d gone to separate grammar schools, they had attended the same private high school in San Antonio while Josh had been dispatched to an exclusive military academy, learning the stiff-backed discipline that had enabled him to take charge of his father’s company at the age of twenty-four. Josh had increased the company’s profits fifteen percent the first year he had control. The board of directors, dubious in the early days of his tenure, had become allies, though they still weren’t sure what to make of Brad. Amanda had always felt like a sister to Brad, a sentiment that had deepened when old man Lawson had died ten years ago. She was glad he’d come to pick her up when she arrived on Opal Cay. Josh was, of course, tending to business. “Josh never slows down, does he?” Amanda asked the tall, handsome man as they strolled along the dock in Nassau. “It isn’t as if he’s going to starve.” Brad chuckled. He lifted his sharp-featured countenance to the warm sea air and closed his eyes. “That’s a fact. Making money is all Josh lives for. At least since Terri cut out on him.” Amanda didn’t like her most vivid memory of Terri. She wasn’t a bad sort, but Amanda wanted someone special for Josh—and although she wasn’t sure why, she knew that someone wasn’t Terri. She turned toward the bay, where several lumbering white cruise ships were setting in port. She’d been on a cruise ship only once. She’d been seasick the entire trip. These days she flew when she had to travel. Amanda paused by a straw stall, smiling at the shy girl who was watching it for her grandmother. “How much?” she asked, pointing toward a particularly lovely hemp hat with purple flowers woven around its wide brim. “Four dollars,” the girl replied. Amanda pulled a five-dollar bill out of the pocket of her white Bermuda shorts and handed it over. “No, no, keep that,” she added when the girl handed her a colorful Bahamian dollar in change. “Thank you, ma’am,” the Bahamian girl replied, laughing. “You spoil these vendors rotten,” Brad muttered. “You’ve got a closetful of hats already, and you won’t bargain.” “I know how long it takes to make one of those hats, or a purse. The tourists are only concerned with saving money. They don’t realize how much it costs to live here, or how hard these vendors work to make a living. I do.” “I suppose you think a million dollars is too much to pay for a beachfront cottage?” “Rich absentee owners have certainly priced the Bahamian people out of their own land,” she said noncommittally. Brad stopped and studied Amanda through his sunglasses. Tall and slender, with black hair down to her waist and pale green eyes, she wasn’t exactly a beauty, but she dressed to emphasize her best features. And she had a warm heart and a loving nature. If her father hadn’t been such a strict parent, Amanda would probably have been long married at twenty-three, with a houseful of children. “We were all sorry to hear about your father,” Brad said solemnly. “Rough, your being an only child.” She shrugged. “He was hardly ever at home, until he got so sick. Even then he preferred the company of his nurse to me. I only saw him when we argued over my choice of possible futures.” “So I recall,” Brad said, chuckling. “Harrison wanted to ship you off on a cruise with a new business contact, and you went to college to study accounting.” Amanda felt cold all over. “It was the first fight I ever won, and I’ve still got the scars. But I knew if I didn’t stand up to him then, I never would. It seems that I was the number one contender for Dell Bartlett’s fifth wife. I shiver at the very thought.” “So do I, and I’m not even a woman!” Brad muttered. She laughed. It changed her face back to the impish, radiant one Brad remembered when she was in her teens. Amanda and her father had never been very close, even after her mother died, leaving Harrison quite a nice inheritance from her family. Yet despite her tyrannical father, Amanda had retained some small part of her mischievous nature over the years. But she’d missed out on a lot of fun. Harrison Todd had guarded his daughter as if she were the crown jewels. “You look wicked when you laugh, Amanda,” Brad commented dryly. “Remember that vicious Siamese cat you used to have?” “Oh, how could I forget?” She giggled. “He knocked Josh into a prickly pear cactus!” “And you spent half an hour with a flashlight and tweezers pulling the spines out of him.” He smiled at her. “He hated being touched. Nobody got near him in those days. That military training made him so aloof. But he let you close enough to undo the damage, and he made you his pet. Now he thinks he owns you.” “Not me, buster,” she said, grinning. “I had enough coddling while my father was alive. Besides, Josh is my friend, just as you are. That’s all.” Amanda hailed a carriage driver whose horse wore a colorful straw hat. “Take us around Bay Street?” she asked, waving a ten-dollar bill. “You bet!” the driver said, giving her a blinding white grin. “Climb aboard!” She and Brad slid into the cart and held on as the driver urged the horse into motion. They rode past breathtaking eighteenth-century architecture mingled with high-rise banks and hotels. “How’s the job?” “Murder!” she exclaimed. “The Todd Gazette was part of my mother’s estate, you know, but Dad put it up as collateral on a loan to buy stock, and he defaulted. He had terrible business sense. Josh says he has an insurance policy that will pay it off, but until I’m twenty-five or married, I have no say in its operation.” She grimaced, thinking about how poorly the operation was presently being managed. She had wanted to tell Josh, but he had been so busy that she couldn’t even get him on the telephone. Aside from needing the rest, she hadn’t argued about this trip since it might afford her the opportunity to make Josh see that she stood to lose her inheritance if he didn’t give her some control over the paper. “Your father should have listened to Josh on those stock options,” Brad pointed out. “Josh warned him not to invest in the airline in the first place.” “I know. Even though Dad respected Josh’s business sense, he wouldn’t listen that time.” She glanced toward a white jasmine hedge with pure delight, reveling in the smell of it. “There wasn’t really much left to lose. Josh salvaged the good investments, but Dad owed every penny he had. He lived to the very limit of his credit.” “And now you resent being left in the lurch.” “Of course I do,” she replied. “But brooding won’t solve anything. I have a very nice little cottage all my own in San Antonio and job security. At least,” she added with a rueful smile, “until the Gazette folds. It isn’t doing very well these days.” Brad took that in without comment. “What I couldn’t do with that job press it’s attached to, given the chance,” she murmured almost to herself. “It’s got such potential.” “Josh thinks it’s redundant,” Brad remarked. “He favors shutting it down and retaining the newspaper.” “But he’s wrong!” she said fervently. “Brad, it’s only being mismanaged! It’s—” He held up a well-manicured hand. “Stop! We’re here to enjoy the scenery and drink in atmosphere.” He closed his eyes and sniffed. “Just smell that sea air! It’s invigorating, isn’t it? No amount of money can buy back clean air and viable land.” “I can’t argue with that,” Amanda agreed. “This is the life,” Brad murmured lazily. “Sand, sun, and a congenial companion. To hell with business.” “Don’t let your brother hear you, or you’re going to be out of a job.” “Josh and I are the only two Lawsons left. He couldn’t fire me if he wanted to. I’m a marketing genius.” “And so modest!” she commented playfully. “I’m only a working girl, not a self-serving layabout like you!” He tried to swipe at her hat, and she ducked, laughing. She gave in gracefully after that, letting herself relax and take in the lazy, lovely atmosphere of Nassau. Ted Balmain met the launch at the marina late in the afternoon. If Josh Lawson had a factotum, Ted was it. Indispensable as valet, bodyguard, and general organizer, the tall, swarthy Texan officially was overseer for Opal Cay, one of seven hundred islands in the Bahamian chain. “Ted, someday you’re going to be delegated to death,” Brad remarked as he helped Amanda into a seat. “That’s what I keep telling Josh,” Ted agreed pleasantly. He cast off the line from the pier and cranked the engine. “Hang on. I feel reckless.” “I’ll throw up,” Amanda threatened. Ted gave her a teasing glance. “No stomach,” he told Brad. “She’s always going to be a landlubber at heart.” “That’s why we went into Nassau. You can forget you’re on an island when you’re browsing down the streets.” “It was wonderful,” she agreed. “Thanks, Brad.” “My pleasure, squirt. Don’t I always look out for you?” Her eyes smiled up at him. “Yes. As usual.” “Josh is back,” Ted remarked as he pulled out of the bay. Amanda’s heart beat faster. Josh was so vital, so alive, that his very presence started her blood churning. He could put her in a vicious temper with a few terse words and then make her laugh two minutes later. Josh was a big brother to both Brad and her. But to everyone else he was “Mr. Lawson,” the man who entertained CEOs and diplomats on his yacht, in his San Antonio manor, and on Opal Cay. He had the ear of money moguls on Wall Street, and he was a millionaire many times over because he took risks that sensible men avoided. Sometimes he pushed the boundaries of ethical conduct, but Amanda was the only one who wasn’t shy about voicing her disapproval. While Harrison Todd had certainly sheltered his daughter from much, he had encouraged her to stand up for her beliefs. Her father had been happiest when she had fought him tooth and nail, and now Josh reaped the benefit of her in-house combat training. So to speak. “What kind of mood is he in?” Brad asked for both of them. “He brought a houseful of people with him.” Brad let out a long sigh. “Protection,” he told Amanda with a grin. “Good thought,” she agreed. “I’m glad he realizes how dangerous I am...” “I wasn’t talking about you!” Brad grinned, because he knew that Josh never ran from a fight with anyone. “I hope the two of you haven’t done anything to set him off,” Ted commented. “He got off the plane breathing fire. That Arab he’s trying to sell his new computers to is giving him a hard time. I wouldn’t mention anything upsetting to him, if I were you.” Amanda thought about the job press. Brad considered his latest gambling debts. She glanced at Brad and frowned at his guilty expression. “Brad...you haven’t been to that casino again?” Amanda asked slowly. Brad wouldn’t meet her eyes. “No,” he said quickly. She didn’t believe him. Brad didn’t lie well, and he loved to gamble. She’d seen him when he had the fever, so intent on the game that he’d bet anything. Josh had been trying for months to get him into therapy. But Brad refused to admit he had a problem, despite the fact that he lost thousands on the spin of a wheel or the turn of a card. Amanda stared toward the cay, where Josh’s gray Lincoln was parked at the two-story garage along with at least three other luxury cars. Two launches were moored at the long pier that led up to the white stone house. Dozens of blooming shrubs surrounded the mansion, everything from bougainvillea to hibiscus and jasmine. Opal Cay had satellite cable, an international network of telephone and fax lines, a computer system with its own power supply, and a larder that was always full. Even Amanda, who was born to wealth, couldn’t remember seeing anything comparable to Josh’s island estate. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked lazily. “Isn’t it expensive?” Brad teased. She glanced at him over her shoulder, pushing her windblown hair out of the way as she smiled. “Cynic.” He shrugged. “Maybe I am. Josh is rubbing off on me.” He moved toward the bow of the launch. “Ease her up to the pier, Ted, and I’ll tie her up.” Amanda felt self-conscious in her white Bermuda shorts and simple gray tank top and sandals. Brad was at least wearing white slacks and a designer shirt, but neither of them was properly dressed to mingle with the crowd Josh was entertaining today. She caught sight of Josh’s blond head towering over dignified men in suits and women in designer dresses, and she beat a hasty retreat upstairs to change. Anyone who was privileged to get an invitation to the cay was automatically included in parties and even social business meetings. “Did you see the Arab’s wives?” Brad whispered as they darted up the staircase. “How many has he got?” she queried. “Two. Don’t put on anything too sexy,” he cautioned with a grin. “You might be targeted for number three.” “He’d fall short of the mark,” she replied mischievously. “I’ve got it in mind to become a corporate giant, not a used wife.” Brad burst out laughing, but Amanda was already behind her closed door. CHAPTER TWO (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7) THE DIN OF voices and the kaleidoscope of mingled colognes and perfumes gave Amanda a roaring headache. She’d come back downstairs long before Brad, who returned with a worried look and went straight to the bar. Amanda, clad in a silver sheath with diamant? straps and matching shoes, put on her best party smile for the curious elite of Josh’s business group. Most of these people were executives of his company and bankers. But two of the men were Arab entrepreneurs whom Josh was hoping might introduce his newest business computer into Saudi Arabia for him. Even Brad’s personable coaxing hadn’t budged the men, so Josh had invited them along with the bankers and two of his executives back to Opal Cay for a buffet dinner. It provided him with a more congenial setting in which to wheel and deal. But this time his hospitality didn’t seem to be working, because the Arab’s black eyes were as cold as anything Amanda had ever seen. Josh had nodded to her when she came downstairs, but his attention had been on his victims. She felt a little slighted, and that only aggravated her headache. Because she had always looked up to Josh, he could hurt her as no one else ever had. Over the years she’d managed to keep him from knowing it, however. She watched his guests as they inspected the house with covetous eyes. The enormous white stone mansion in its grove of acacia and silk cotton and sea grape trees was a showplace, tangible evidence of Josh’s business acumen. The Lawson Company had branches in every major city in the United States and was moving slowly into Europe and the Middle East. This year Josh was adding a software division line to the Lawson offerings. His was a profitable public company, listed on the New York Stock Exchange, and although he was answerable to stockholders and a stiff-necked board of directors, he ran the whole organization himself, with key executives from every branch answerable only to him. He ran his business with the same arrogant bearing and cool efficiency of a military commander. His employees stood in awe of him, as did Amanda. Some of the time. In the beginning of Josh’s partnership with Amanda’s father, it was Harrison who had the business acumen and the contacts. But for the past few years Joshua had been in almost complete control. That had angered Harrison, who hated the thought of being outdone by a younger man. As a result, he’d tried to break away from the Lawson Company. The attempt had been disastrous, culminating in Amanda inheriting a minority forty-nine percent of the newspaper that had been in her mother’s family for a hundred years. Before Amanda’s birth, and her own death in childbirth, Amanda’s mother had given Harrison Todd control of her part of the baby’s inheritance until the unborn child was twenty-five, but now Joshua had it. Amanda knew she was going to have to fight to convince him to let her inherit a controlling interest. She also knew Josh didn’t usually fight fair, but that he would with her, because of their friendship. There had been no hope of her gaining control while her father was alive. But Josh would see things differently now. The Gazette was the only bright spot in her life. She would no longer have her family home because her father had mortgaged it, and the insurance that had saved the newspaper wasn’t going to save the house. Amanda had moved into a small cottage on the property that was free and clear. Surely Josh would not let her lose control of the newspaper by a tiny percentage after all she’d been through. She desperately needed to retain that precious family heirloom. She pushed back her long black hair and let it fall against her bare shoulders. Despite the fact that she was still a virgin at twenty-three, she sometimes felt a sensuality as overwhelming as night itself. She felt it most often when Josh was nearby. Cradling her fluted crystal glass in her slender hands, she walked out into the hall. Secreted in a small alcove, all alone beside a potted palm, she watched Josh hold court in the grand living room. The sound of footsteps close by broke her trance. “Mr. Lawson wanted me to ask if you needed anything,” Ted Balmain asked with a smile. “No, thanks,” she said, grinning up at him. “I have advanced training in this. I spent a lot of time sitting in the hall outside the principal’s office in high school.” “Not you!” he chided. “I never stopped talking. Or so they said.” She peered around him. Brad was trying to charm a young Arab woman. “Ted, do you know what some societies in the Middle East do to you for seducing innocent women?” Ted cleared his throat. “Well, uh...” “I think they cut off body parts,” she continued. “You might get Brad to one side and jog his memory.” “I’ll do my best, but women love him,” he murmured. She laughed. “Well, he’s handsome and kind and rich. Why wouldn’t they?” He didn’t remind her that Brad had gone through two nasty paternity suits over the years. “I’ll educate him,” he promised. “Hopefully this party won’t go on too much longer. We’ve had this Middle East computer deal in the works for weeks, and today they wanted to discuss closing it. But, unfortunately for us, not in Nassau. They had a yen to see the house. Josh didn’t really have much choice, but it must be difficult for you to mingle with all these people right now.” “Well, I suspected the house would be full. Isn’t it usually like this?” she asked gently. “Josh is always surrounded by business people.” “In his income bracket, who isn’t?” Ted asked with a chuckle. “Staying rich is demanding. And I don’t need to tell you how many people depend on the company’s solvency.” “No,” she agreed. “I’m only a guest myself, remember. I don’t expect preferential treatment.” “All the same, your father just died.” “Ted, I lost my father a long time before he died,” she said wistfully. “I’m not sure I ever had him in the first place. But I do know that if it hadn’t been for Josh, my life would have been unbearable. When Dad got hard-nosed about things I wanted to do, Josh was my only ally.” “He thinks highly of you,” Ted had to admit. He glanced over his shoulder. “They’re not going to be here much longer,” he promised. “Then we might have a whole day of peace and quiet. Well, you will,” he amended with a grimace. “Josh has a meeting in Nassau tomorrow and in Jamaica the day after.” “He needs to delegate more,” she mused. “He can’t afford to,” he said. “Not on his level. His father did, but he was something of a playboy. In the process, he almost lost the business.” “Balmain!” an impatient voice roared down the hall. It was deep and commanding, rough with authority and just a hint of a Texas drawl. “Be right there, Josh!” he called back, flushing a little. Obviously he’d strayed too far. “You’d better go,” Amanda murmured. “Thanks anyway, but I’m fine. I thought I might walk down on the beach for a few minutes. I need a little peace and quiet, even if that does sound ungrateful.” She leaned forward and glanced toward the elegantly dressed and jeweled women present. “Some of these women smell as if their husbands make a living from selling perfume! I’ve got the most dreadful headache.” Ted laughed politely, but he hesitated. “Josh won’t like you going alone.” She stood up, tall and elegant. “Oh, I know that,” she said with a gamine grin. “But I’m going anyway. See you.” She walked toward the front door, her mind blocking out the sounds, the noise, the smells. Ted grimaced, because he would probably catch hell for this. He turned and, stomach tied in knots, went back to join his boss. “What kept you?” the elegant blond man asked curtly. His dark eyes were intimidating in a darkly tanned face as sculptured and aesthetically pleasing as a Greek statue. “Amanda wanted to talk,” Ted said reluctantly. “She’s lonely, I think.” Joshua Cabe Lawson glanced around him impatiently at the Middle Eastern businessmen and their expensively dressed wives, chattering and laughing and drinking his best imported champagne. He wanted to be rid of the lot of them, so that he could comfort Amanda. He knew it was difficult for her just now. That’s why he’d insisted she come down here. He hoped a rest would help her get over the shock of her father’s death as well as the reality of her financial situation. But it wasn’t working out as he’d planned. He was smothered by business demands that had all seemed to come due at this inconvenient time. And these talks were the one thing he couldn’t postpone. “I’m almost finished here,” he told Ted Balmain. “Tell her I’ll be along in ten minutes.” “She, uh, said she wanted to walk on the beach. She has a headache.” “I’m sure the noise bothers her.” He glared at his guests. He lit a cigar and puffed on it irritably, his blond hair catching the light of the chandelier overhead and burning like gold. He was tall—very tall, with a broad, muscular body that was as powerful looking as if he spent hours a day in a gym. His thick, dark blond eyebrows collided as he considered that he hadn’t spent five minutes with his houseguest since she’d arrived. Not that she complained. She never did. She was spirited, but she was the least demanding woman he’d ever known. All the same, he felt vaguely guilty. “Start hiding liquor bottles,” he told Ted. “And jerk Brad away from that terminal fascination in the corner and tell him I want to talk to him. Now.” Ted whispered something to Brad, who quickly excused himself to join his brother. The difference between the two brothers was striking: one blond and tan and handsome, the other a little shorter with brown hair. But both had dark eyes, and their builds were equally strong. Brad held up his hand and grinned before Josh could speak. “I know I’m risking assorted body parts, but isn’t she a little dish? She speaks French and likes to go riding on her father’s Arabians, and she thinks that men are perfection itself!” He wiggled his eyebrows. Josh was amused, but only briefly. “She’s engaged to one of the Rothschilds, and her father has an army.” Brad shrugged. “Easy come, easy go. What do you want?” “Wrap this up,” he said, jerking his head toward the balding sheik he’d been talking to all day. “Tell him the last price I quoted him is rock bottom. He can take it or go home and dust his camels. I haven’t got the time to bargain any further.” “Are you sure you want to do that?” Brad asked. “This is an important market.” “I know it. So does he. But I’m not going to sacrifice my profits. There are other marketing avenues open to us. Remind him.” Brad chuckled. He loved watching his older brother in action. “I’ll make your wishes known. Anything else?” “Yes. Get Morrison on the phone. Tell him I’ll want him to fax me those last cost estimates for Anders’s new operation in Montego Bay by midnight. I don’t care if he’s not through,” he interrupted when Brad started to speak. “I want what he’s got by midnight.” “You got it,” the younger man said with a sigh, his mind drifting away to a disturbing phone call he’d made before coming downstairs. His worries were playing on his mind, but he couldn’t afford to let his brother find out what they were. At least not yet. He forced his attention back to Josh. The older man misread his expression. He narrowed his dark eyes and smiled sardonically. “You think I’m a tyrant, don’t you, Brad? But business is best left to pirates, and we’ve got two in our ancestry. Cut and thrust is the only way.” “As long as you’re sure the other guy isn’t wearing plate armor,” Brad reminded him. “Point taken. I’ll be on the beach with Amanda. How is she?” “Putting up a good front, as usual,” Brad said. “She’s hurting. Harrison wasn’t much of a businessman and less of a father. Still, blood is blood.” “Maybe she’s mourning what Harrison never could give her—a father’s love.” “When I have kids,” Brad said firmly, “they may not get much else, but they’ll get that.” Josh turned away abruptly. “I’ll be on the beach.” He nodded politely to the balding Arab and left. Moonlight sparkled on the softly moving water near the white sand. Amanda was standing in the surf, her shoes in one hand, her hair blowing in the breeze. There was the scent of blooming royal poincianas and hibiscus and jasmine in the night air. Because of the noise of the surf, she didn’t hear him approach until he was right beside her. She looked up, her green eyes faintly covetous on his tall, powerful body in the elegant dark evening clothes. The white of his shirt made his tan seem even darker. She’d known this man forever. All the long years of her cloistered childhood she’d admired him. Through his public and private affairs, through the anguish of her home life, it was dreams of Josh that had kept her sane. He didn’t know. That was her secret. “Sorry I ran away,” she said, feeling the need to apologize in case she’d seemed rude. He’d been kind to her, and she felt ungrateful. “I’ve got a rotten headache.” “Don’t apologize,” he replied. “I hate the damned noise myself, but it was unavoidable. They’ll all be gone soon, one way or the other.” He looked down at her. “Why did Ted take so long to ask if you needed anything? Is he the reason you came out here?” She stared at him blankly. “I beg your pardon?” “Did he do something to make you uncomfortable?” he asked impatiently. “He’s too outspoken sometimes.” She laughed in spite of herself. “As if he ever would. Don’t you know how you intimidate your employees?” He cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “I don’t intimidate you.” “Ha, ha,” she said. “Then why am I here?” He shrugged. “You needed a rest. Mirri couldn’t get you out of town, so she called me.” His eyes narrowed. “She’s a good friend. I can’t figure out her wild taste in clothes, but I like her.” She smiled. “So do I.” She stretched lazily, feeling as safe with Josh as she always had. “I love it here.” She looked at ease, and that relaxed him. Turning back to the sea, he stuck one long-fingered hand into his slacks pocket and lifted the cigar he’d just lit to his mouth. “I bought Opal Cay for this view,” he remarked. “Prettiest damn stretch of beach and horizon in this part of the islands.” She had to agree. In the distance, the dark outline of trees on the next island was plainly visible, along with the colorful neon lights of the casino that had been built there. It was one of Josh’s holdings, and he liked looking at it at night. The brilliant lights shone in the thick darkness that clung to the horizon, yet the complex was barely visible in daylight. “I like trees and sunsets,” she remarked. “I like the look of money being made,” he mused, watching her. “That’s rotten, Josh!” “I love to watch you rise to the bait.” His dark eyes admired the low cut of her sleek silver dress with its thin straps. “You shouldn’t dress like that around this sophisticated crowd,” he cautioned. “No wonder Ted took his time getting back.” “It’s very modest, compared with what that redhead had on,” she accused, though it pleased her to know he noticed. She wanted to impress him, and she wanted him to see her not as a child, but as a woman. “That redhead is a stripper.” “Why did you invite her?” He shrugged. “One of the sheiks took a liking to her, as they say back home. I didn’t imagine it would hurt the deal to let him bring her along.” “That’s disgusting,” she said shortly. His face went bland and vaguely wicked. “No, it isn’t. It’s business.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, they won’t be staying the night,” he said knowingly, and smiled. She flushed, glad he couldn’t see the color in her face. “Why do you always put me in the room next to the main guest room? The last couple you entertained kept me awake all night. She was a redhead, too. And she screamed,” she muttered. “And that brings back a memory, doesn’t it?” She hadn’t expected him to bring it up. In eight years they’d never talked about it. She shifted her stance, trying not to let him see her face. “Aren’t you going to answer?” he chided. “There’s nothing to say. What I saw happened a long time ago.” He put his smoldering cigar in his mouth and forced the broad tip back into bright orange life. “It isn’t a memory I like,” he said gruffly. “It shamed me to know you’d seen me with Terri on the beach. I was aroused enough to be careless.” “I didn’t even realize you were out there with her,” she replied tersely. She tried to blot out the memory of Josh’s aroused, nude body poised over Terri’s writhing form, but it was impossible. She looked away, shivering with reaction. How that memory had haunted her, the sight of his big hand on Terri’s hips as he’d jerked her up to him in a sharp rhythm. When she’d cried out and convulsed, Amanda had been horrified. Then Josh had found his own satisfaction and the sight had burned into her brain like acid. She’d run away, so fast, trying to escape the erotic images. She closed her mind to the rest of it. Turning, she walked along the beach. Her body felt oddly on fire. “I know it was traumatic for you,” he said quietly, falling easily into step beside her. “Maybe I should have brought this all up at the time, but you were pretty naive at fifteen.” She wrapped her arms across her chest, trying to forget the memory of his face as he’d suddenly given in to his own pleasure. In all her life she’d never seen anything like it. “There’s no need to explain it all, Josh,” she whispered in anguish, turning her head away. “I understand now what was happening.” He took a sharp breath and jammed one hand into his pocket. “All right,” he said angrily. “We’ll skirt around it some more, just as we have for the past eight years. I just wanted to clear the air. You brought up the noisy, amorous guests next door to you, so, it seemed like the right time. But I guess you’ve had enough to deal with lately without my bringing up embarrassing memories.” She stopped walking and turned to him, her face shadowed as she looked up. “Dad protected me so,” she began slowly. “I’d...never even seen a naked man.” “Your father sheltered you too damned much,” he said. She lifted her hair away from her hot face without looking at him. Her body felt funny. Hot. Clammy. Throbbing with some sensation she couldn’t understand. Josh paused in front of her and reached out and touched her shoulder. His fingers fell lightly on her heated flesh. She caught her breath. His touch was the most erotic she’d ever felt, and she couldn’t hide her reaction. His dark eyes slid down to her thin gown, to the small, hard peaks that betrayed what she was feeling. That, and her ragged breathing and the set of her exquisite body, told him things he didn’t really want to know just yet. “You’re vulnerable,” he said curtly. “The night, the strain of the past week, the excitement tonight...maybe even the memory we share, it’s all knocked the pins out from under you.” “Yes,” she said, her eyes wide as they searched his in the flood of light that came from the house. His fingers trailed along the throbbing pulse in her throat, and further, to the faint outline of her collarbone. Her breath caught, but she didn’t protest or push at his hand. His lips parted as he watched her face. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this was dangerous. She was unguarded, and he was aroused. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. Just after Terri had left, there had been a Latin heiress with whom he’d conducted a very lukewarm, long-distance affair. And yet the tiny sound that suddenly escaped Amanda’s throat aroused him more than Louisa Valdez’s naked body in a bed ever had. Amanda shivered. In one moment she’d recognized the years of frustrated longing she’d felt for him, and suddenly she needed him more than ever. He couldn’t quite believe the look of desire he saw on her face. It unsettled him. The cigar dangled in his free hand, and he fought the sudden shift in his perception of her. She still hadn’t moved, but his mind had. His fingers lifted as if her soft skin were white fire. He didn’t dare touch her again. He didn’t move. His face poised above hers as if it had been carved from stone. “Joshua?” Was that husky whisper her voice? His gaze fell to the taut thrust of her breasts against her bodice, down to her smooth hips and her long, elegant legs, to her pretty bare feet. Her silver shoes lay scattered on the white sand, the foaming surf just touching them. He had to remember why he couldn’t get involved with a woman, especially not with Amanda. With a soft curse, he moved away from her all at once. “Here,” he said gruffly, “you’ve left your shoes in the surf. They’ll be soaked.” His words brought Amanda back to reality. “They’re old,” she said. “I touched them up with some of Harriet’s silver hairspray.” He looked for his cigar and found it lying in the water. He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. He smoked too much, anyway. “Harriet’s hairspray?!” he replied suddenly. She laughed. He sometimes seemed to be listening when really he was miles away. “That will teach you to pay attention when I talk to you,” she said, and in seconds he was smiling and everything was back to normal. Afterward Amanda could hardly remember when or how they’d gone inside. But once she was upstairs, she almost collapsed with burning heat on her bed. Her head was really splitting now, and she was feeling particularly vulnerable. She wanted Josh. She could no longer deny the sensations she felt. But she’d make sure that she stayed in control from now on. Having only just escaped her father’s domination, she was in no hurry to rush back into emotional slavery. At least Josh wasn’t going to take advantage of her weakness. He’d rejected her, but not unkindly. She’d heard some of the rumors about his lovers. A lot about Terri, the woman she’d seen him with on the beach so long ago. She knew he didn’t want to get married, but that he was an honorable man. He knew Amanda too well to lure her into his bed for a few minutes of pleasure. Maybe that was a good thing, but all the same her body throbbed until dawn. The worst thing was that she hadn’t even had the presence of mind to mention the job press at the newspaper office to him. * * * JOSH GAVE UP on the idea of sleeping when his company finally departed. He’d won his deal with the oil sheik, and he should have felt satisfied. But he didn’t. He felt as restless as ever. Imbued with an ongoing urgency about life, he often wore out employees who simply couldn’t meet the demands he placed on them. Like many overachievers, he was impatient with people who lived at a normal pace. “Go to bed, for God’s sake,” Josh said to Ted. “You’re asleep on your feet.” Ted chuckled as he rose from his comfortable chair. “I don’t mind keeping you company,” he said. “But a few hours of sleep sounds great. You seem to live on catnaps.” Josh shrugged. “In the early days it was the only way I could manage to save the company. Now, it’s a habit.” He frowned. That wasn’t quite true. What he’d felt with Amanda bothered him. He lit a cigar impatiently. “That will kill you,” Ted remarked at the door. “Life kills people, too,” came the sardonic reply. “Dina’s enrolled me in a stop smoking seminar,” he added. “I’ll kick the habit. But not tonight.” Ted shrugged. “Suit yourself. See you in the morning.” The door closed, and he was alone with his thoughts, his memories. He was going to miss Harrison Todd. Amanda’s father had not been a perfect human being, but Joshua had learned a lot from him in the early days. Knowing he wouldn’t have Harrison around had been a blow. Brad was a good salesman, but Harrison had years of experience neither Lawson brother had had a chance to accumulate. Business, he mused. Even when he was alone, it dominated his mind. Better that than Amanda’s soft, pretty body, he reminded himself. His young life had been a kaleidoscope of affairs not unlike his parents’ adulterous adventures. He could remember his father flirting openly with other women, and it wasn’t a rare occurrence. His mother had been a little more discreet, but there were always men half her age traveling with her, helping her spend her money. Sent off to school at the age of six, Josh had never known a family environment or honest love. Amanda’s tender concern for him over the cactus so many years earlier had surprised him. He wasn’t accustomed to people caring about him more than his money. Amanda stayed near him at the worst times of his life. When he’d broken his leg on a skiing trip, it had been Amanda who’d come to see him in the hospital with potted plants and sympathy. She’d fussed over him when he was sick, teased him when he was well, become an integral part of his life. But in all that time he’d never touched her. Not even under the mistletoe at Christmas. Everything had changed a few hours earlier on the beach. Now he didn’t recall her nurturing ways. He wanted her, but he didn’t know how to reconcile that with his affection for her, with their friendship. With other women, relationships were simple. His lovers were experienced, sophisticated women who could settle for sex without emotional involvement. He knew that wouldn’t be possible with Amanda. He equated Amanda and sex with marriage and children and forever after. Since marriage had become an impossibility for him, he had to reconcile himself to keeping his hands off Amanda. Tonight had been a moment out of time. She’d sensed his rejection at once and with grace and dignity. He had to make sure that he didn’t put her in that position twice, because he didn’t like seeing Amanda humbled. It didn’t suit her spirited nature at all. He’d spent years prodding her temper, helping her stand up to her father. Now he had to keep her on the right track. He flung open a file folder and buried his thoughts in business. CHAPTER THREE (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7) THE OCEAN OFF Opal Cay was every shade of mingled green and blue in the color spectrum. Like the rest of the Bahama Islands chain, the water was crystalline, unpolluted. Virginal. Amanda smiled at the unspoiled beauty and hoped that this exquisite sugar-white beach would never go the way of so many other beautiful coves that now boasted casino and hotel complexes. She pushed her hands deeper into the pockets of her short white robe. She’d just been swimming, and her slender body was still wet, like her long black hair. She lifted it to the ever-present breeze, feeling the hot, wet wind pull at it, drying it. Under the robe was a yellow bikini with red stripes, the first unconventional statement she’d made since her father’s death. She knew she should have felt something. Sadness. Grief. Loss. Emptiness. There was only relief. What a eulogy for Harrison Sanford Todd. “I must be heartless,” she said aloud. “Why?” came a deep, cynically amused reply from over her shoulder. She turned, her pale green eyes wide. They softened helplessly at the masculine perfection of the man who approached her. She pushed back her long, windblown hair to keep it out of her mouth in the crisp breeze. “I thought you were going to Nassau.” “Not until eleven-thirty. It’s barely seven. Why are you out so early?” “I dreamed about Dad,” she said. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was close enough. She rammed her hands deep into her pockets. “I wish I could miss him.” “He wasn’t exactly a family man, Amanda. Don’t waste time on unnecessary guilt. He gave what he could, and so did you. Let that be enough,” Josh said in his soft, deep Texas accent. His dark eyes flashed like the reflection of the ocean in sunlight as he looked down at her from his imposing height. “Didn’t I mention the undertow and the danger of swimming alone?” “You probably did,” she agreed with a grin. “And I probably didn’t listen. But I only went out a little way. I’m not terribly adventurous. Yet,” she added. He smiled. “You’ll get around to it. It’s a big world.” “And full of sharks,” she mused. His eyes narrowed as he glanced seaward. A smoking cigar dangled from one lean, darkly tanned hand, its only adornment a thin gold watch buried in the thick hair of his strong wrist. He was wearing white slacks with a sedate gray T-shirt, tediously conventional. It was like flying a false flag, because there was nothing, absolutely nothing, conventional about Joshua Cabe Lawson, as his business adversaries had learned to their cost. He towered over her, despite the fact that she was tall and slender. His blond good looks and superb physical presence drew women like a magnet. His scandalous reputation had dimmed only briefly during the time he was seeing Terri. Although Josh had genuinely loved the woman, she’d left him because he didn’t want to get married. He was incapable of commitment except when it came to business matters. Then he was as dedicated as any workaholic. Amanda, fresh out of college and brimming with ideas, had some small understanding of the aphrodisiac that a career could provide. She wanted desperately to have a chance to make the Todd Gazette’s small job press grow to its full potential. The present manager, Ward Johnson, had been in his job so long that he just slogged along from day to day in the same old rut, never bothering to change anything at all. His first love was the weekly newspaper. The job press was only a worrying sideline to him, and like Josh, he wanted to close it down or sell off the equipment. Amanda didn’t. She knew it could pay for itself. If only it were run right! Amanda loved working at the paper. Although she didn’t have a journalism degree, she did have one in business, and she had some innovative ideas about how to upgrade the antiquated equipment, reorganize the print shop, and structure the job descriptions of the staff who overlapped both businesses. But repressed from childhood by her overbearing, domineering father, she hadn’t yet learned how to be aggressive without being offensive, and when she made gentle suggestions, no one would listen to her. Least of all the man at her side. She looked up at him and wondered idly why he never made her feel smothered even when he did exercise his protective instincts. For a year after she’d come home from a finishing school in Switzerland, he’d hounded her until she’d entered a local San Antonio college, late, at the age of nineteen. Joshua had steered her toward college when her father hadn’t even noticed her lack of occupation. Women needed to train in a profession, Josh had insisted, and not be dependent on anyone else for a living—even a husband, if she ever married. She’d taken that one piece of advice and gone on to major in business and minor in marketing. She’d graduated summa cum laude while Josh watched her accept her diploma. Her father had been closing a deal in London. Josh had gone into business with her father eight years before, and despite the fact that he seemed to hate almost everyone he associated with, he’d been kind to Amanda since the first time he’d seen her. She remembered that meeting with amused delight. Tough Joshua Lawson had fallen into a prickly pear cactus because of her cat, Butch—a fourteen-pound monster of a cat with the disposition of a rattler. Amanda had been horrified that her pet was going to be strangled, but her compassion for Joshua had been even stronger than her fear for Butch. She’d rushed to get a pair of tweezers, and it had taken her twenty long minutes to pull out every cactus hair. She’d done it painstakingly, while a surprised and then amused Joshua sat docilely and allowed a personal invasion that he would have tolerated from no one else. Amanda hadn’t known that until years later, when he’d confessed it with rueful amusement. “What are you smiling about?” he murmured. “The prickly pear cactus,” she said immediately. He chuckled. “Yes. The prickly pear. What ever became of that blue-eyed cat?” “He died, remember? While he was staying with Mirri last year,” she replied, a little sad. “Tiger Lily,” he muttered. His reference to Mirri made her smile. “Her temper is no worse than yours,” she pointed out. “And she’s the best friend I’ve got.” “She’s a lot like you,” he said disgustedly. “Incredibly repressed and hopelessly locked into a self-destructive pattern of solitary living.” “Well, thank you for that professional analysis,” she said sarcastically. “And you aren’t supposed to notice that Mirri’s repressed,” she reminded him gently. “She certainly doesn’t give that impression to strangers.” “I know,” he replied. “She puts on a good act when she’s dressing like a third-rate prostitute, piling on makeup, flirting outrageously, and publicly announcing that she wants to have some man’s children.” He chuckled. “And how they run! But one day she’s going to find someone who’ll mistake that image for the real woman. And I’ll feel sorry for her when she does.” “I hope it never happens,” Amanda remarked. “So do I. Her scars are deep enough. Like yours.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “Someone should have taken a horsewhip to Harrison years ago. I considered it a time or two, on your behalf. What he did to you was criminal. I could never make him see it.” She was surprised and touched that he’d cared enough to try. “He could be cruel,” she agreed. “But he wasn’t all bad. He did find good people to take care of me, and I always had everything I wanted.” “Everything except love,” he agreed. He touched her chin, and his fingers felt hard and cool against her face as he lifted it. “Some lucky man is going to enjoy you one day, Amanda, with all that love and need welled up in you, just waiting to pour out.” She smiled at him, ignoring the sweet explosions that were going off all over her body. “Just as long as he can cook and use a vacuum cleaner,” she teased. He laughed, not offended at all. His eyes went back to the horizon. “At least you won’t be hiding out anymore.” “No, I won’t,” she replied, realizing this was the perfect opportunity to assert herself further. “Joshua, what about the job press? Are you really going to side with Ward Johnson and close it down?” “Here it comes,” he grumbled, glaring at her. “Can’t we get away from that damned job press? What do you know about running a job press, anyway?” It was impossible to wring a decision out of him. She’d long since learned that he was a past master of the Socratic method—answering questions with questions. “I know more about it than Ward Johnson seems to. He’s running the operation into the ground. Josh, I’d like to take over management of the newspaper and job press in San Antonio,” she blurted out. “We had this conversation before Harrison died. The answer is still the same. No,” he said. “You might hear me out before you make any snap decisions. I’ve thought about it a lot. I have a degree in business administration. I know how to manage a business.” “You have the education, yes.” He turned to her, his face hard and unyielding. “You don’t have the experience, the ruthlessness, to handle people.” Management doesn’t always require ruthlessness. “I’ve been working at the paper for two months. I’ve managed everything recently, and I’ve noticed a lot of flaws...” “You’ve been substituting for Ward Johnson when he was out of the office,” he returned. “That’s a far cry from managing on a day-to-day basis. And what do you want me to do with Ward, fire him after fifteen years of loyal service just so you can play Madam Executive?” She flushed with temper, her green eyes darkening, her face flushing. “You’re forgetting that I own forty-nine percent of the paper,” she said through clenched teeth. “And that it’s been in my mother’s family for almost a hundred years!” “You’ll get control of that forty-nine percent only when you comply with the terms of the will,” he said with a cold smile. “I’ll contest it!” she raged. “Your father’s mind was as sound as mine. You haven’t got a legal leg to stand on.” She felt as if her face had gone purple. Rage sparkled in her pale green eyes, making them as glassy as ice. “Until you reach twenty-five, or marry,” he reminded her bluntly, “I suggest you follow Ward Johnson’s lead. Then we’ll talk.” “Ward Johnson can go to hell,” she said icily. “And you can keep him company, Joshua!” His wide, masculine mouth curled up at the corners in amusement. “When you were about seventeen, you had all the spunk of a two-hour-old bunny rabbit,” he remarked. “That was when I started to needle you. Remember?” “Made me furious,” she corrected, almost choking on the flash of temper. She took deep breaths to regain control. “Made me mad enough to throw things.” He nodded. “It was what you needed. Harrison had made a puppet out of you,” he added, his face hard. “A damned little doll whose strings he pulled. I taught you to fight for your survival.” Slowly the rage left her. Yes. He had done that for her. And once she’d started to challenge her father, her life had changed. She, who had never raised a hand in class in school, who had never spoken back to an adversary, was suddenly able to stand up to anyone. “It seems I learned well,” she said after a minute. She glanced up at him with a rueful smile. “But it’s uncomfortable to fight, just the same.” “Or lose. But both experiences teach valuable lessons,” he returned. His eyes were almost transparent for a few seconds. He could have told her that he knew as much as she did about being overwhelmed and dominated. His childhood had been no joy ride. But that was something he never discussed. Not even with Brad. He stepped away, taking a long draw from the cigar. “Disgusting habit,” he muttered. He pulled a tiny tape recorder from his pocket and depressed the record button. “Dina, remind me about that no smoking seminar at the Sheraton next week. I’ve got a board meeting that morning, so I’ll forget otherwise.” Amanda smiled secretly, amused at his gesture. Dina had been his secretary since his father’s untimely death from a heart attack ten years ago. She knew where all the bodies were buried, and she was efficient in a frightening way. Amanda had once wondered, quite seriously, if Dina was psychic, because she seemed able to anticipate every move Josh made. Even now she probably had an alarm programmed into her computer to remind him of that seminar he’d just remembered. “Why are you grinning like the Cheshire cat?” he asked curtly. “Another dangling thought?” The smile vanished. Her hands clenched in her pockets as she prepared for yet another fruitless argument. “About the job press...” “No,” he repeated with cold emphasis. She threw up her hands. “I could get more out of a stone wall!” “There’s one.” He indicated the sea wall that protected the front of the house. “Try it.” Her shoulders sagged. She was too worn out to fight any more today. “Will you at least look at some figures on the press before you kill it?” she asked quietly, determined to set at least that much accomplished. “All right. But that’s all I’m promising.” That deep south Texas drawl of his was deceptive. It didn’t denote an easygoing disposition. Quite the opposite, in fact. “And I’m not kicking out Ward Johnson.” “I wouldn’t really want you to go that far,” she confessed. “He has problems at home.” “And you collect broken things and broken people,” he said perceptively. “Like the stray cat that was badly bitten by a neighborhood dog and had to be taken in,” he recited. “And the pigeon with a broken wing. Then there was, of all things, a garter snake that the gardener cut with a weed eater!” “It was only a little snake,” she defended herself. “The bleeding heart of the world,” he scoffed. “You care too much about the wrong things.” “Somebody has to.” “I suppose. But don’t look at me. I’ve got a business to run.” He turned his wrist abruptly and glanced at his watch. “I have to get ready to go into Nassau.” “You wouldn’t like to take a day off?” she asked. He looked surprised. “A day off,” she began, a grin lighting up her face. “It’s when you don’t work for an entire day. You go snorkeling or sunbathe or sight-seeing...” “A hell of a waste of time!” “You’re going to wear yourself out from the inside,” she pointed out. “First your brain, then your stomach, then your heart. In no time you’ll be a walking bone-and-skin frame with nothing inside.” “You don’t say?” He took a handful of her long black hair in one hand and tugged on it as he had done when she was a kid. Only now her head eased back gently, and his eyes dropped to her soft pink mouth and lingered there before he spoke. “You’re sassy,” he said. “I learned by watching you,” she said. Her voice sounded husky. She couldn’t breathe properly when he was this close, and she was afraid that it might show. “Joshua, you’re hurting my hair,” she whispered unsteadily. His grip lessened, but only slightly. He actually leaned toward her, so that his coffee-and-smoke-scented breath cooled her parted lips. “Be careful that I don’t decide to take you over,” he said deeply. “You’d make one hell of an acquisition.” “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t match the decor in your office at all,” she said with forced lightness. Her body was already burning. “You like dark Mediterranean, and I’m French provincial. Besides, you’re too busy.” “Is that what you really think? That I only have a cash register for a brain and a slide rule for a heart? You, of all people on earth, should know better,” he added, his voice as sensuous as velvet against bare skin. “I taught you to fight, but I guess you’ll have to learn just about everything else on your own. I’m too jaded to make a proper tutor.” He let her hair fall back to her shoulders and turned away from her. She studied his long back with pure pleasure. “I have to get my education somewhere, Josh,” she murmured, striking just the right note of amused honesty to raise one of his eyebrows. “If you won’t sacrifice yourself for me, I guess I’ll have to advertise for someone who will.” “No, you won’t. You don’t know how to play that kind of game. When you give yourself, it will be for keeps.” She looked up at him openly, appreciating the hard lines of his face, the faint weariness there. “You’re tired. Why don’t you send Brad to Nassau and get some rest?” Her concern almost pushed him over the edge. He didn’t want it; he didn’t need it! His hand clenched at his side. He took a draw from the cigar and sent up a cloud of smoke. “Because Brad wouldn’t get any farther than the casino across the bridge on Paradise Island, and you know it,” he said flatly. “I’m going to keep him away from temptation, at least until we close this Saudi Arabian contract.” Amanda had her own suspicions about how well Brad was avoiding temptation, but she couldn’t sell him out to his brother. Josh made no allowances for weakness. “You’re hard to argue with,” she commented. “Then stop doing it. I don’t have time, anyway.” He checked his watch again. “I’ll try to be back in time for dinner.” “I haven’t seen you for thirty minutes at a stretch since I’ve been here. And I really do have to think about getting back to San Antonio.” “It’s only a week since the funeral,” he said. “Stay a while longer. Why not fly over to Jamaica with me tomorrow? I’ll make sure I have time for you.” “Don’t strain yourself,” she said, annoyed at his patronizing one. “Don’t worry. I won’t,” he said with a pleasant smile. She threw up her hands. “Every time I’m around you, I feel as if I’ve been dragged backward through a hedge.” His face seemed faintly troubled. He touched her hair again, but this time he drew his hand away at once. He searched her eyes intently and held them until her heart ran away. “I’m not a child, Josh,” she said huskily. “You aren’t superficial, either,” he replied. “You’re as deep as the ocean, as enigmatic as a budding rose in a briar patch. I admire your values as much as I admire your spirit. I could never soil that.” “You pirate,” she accused softly. “You’re as old-fashioned as I am.” He nodded slowly. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said with a half smile, and started walking again. “I’d hate to ruin my image.” CHAPTER FOUR (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7) BRAD DIDN’T GO to Nassau. Josh went himself. But that evening at dinner, Josh did ask his brother to travel to Montego Bay. “All right,” Brad said pleasantly. “I’ll go to Jamaica for you. But I do need to be back in San Antonio by the end of the week. I’ve got a prospective client to court, an aerospace executive.” Amanda caught the flicker in Brad’s eyes that Josh missed. Perhaps she simply knew him better, but his reason for going home to Texas didn’t sound completely honest. “Suit yourself, as long as you hold up your end,” Josh replied. “I have to admit that you’ve made some startling gains in new territory this year.” Brad fingered his wineglass and didn’t look up. “Enough for a raise?” “You still owe me six months’ salary,” Josh reminded him. “And you’re paying off a hell of a loan.” Brad’s dark eyes flashed in anger at his brother. “Go ahead. Rub it in. So I lost. But sometimes I win. When I do, I win big!” “Nobody wins at a gambling house,” Josh said coldly. “It’s a narcotic. You’re addicted, but you won’t admit it.” Brad tossed down his napkin and got to his feet. “I’ll take the Learjet to Mo’ Bay in the morning. When I’ve finished there, I’m going home.” He dared his brother to argue. Josh didn’t. He simply stared at the younger man, ending that argument. Brad glanced at Amanda with a strained smile and left the room. “You ride him hard,” she told Josh. “Try the quenelles,” he said, ignoring her comment. “They’re delicious.” “He’s your brother.” “That’s why I want him to wake up, before he squanders his inheritance and ruins his life.” “You can’t drag him into some clinic, Josh,” she persisted. “He’s not a chair that you can send off to be reupholstered.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t want to start this tonight,” he said firmly, a faint threat in his voice. She wasn’t going to change his mind. As usual, it was already solidifying as quickly as concrete. She lifted her fork to her mouth. He was right: the quenelles were delicious. While a taciturn, uncommunicative Brad flew to Jamaica, Josh took Amanda out in the launch to another island, an uninhabited one near Opal Cay. “You yourself said that I needed some time off,” he reminded her when she seemed surprised at his choice of location. “Harriet packed us a delicious picnic lunch and a bottle of wine.” She smiled. The prospect of an entire day with Josh was devastating to her senses. Heaven. Josh dropped the anchor and they disembarked. It was autumn back in San Antonio, but here it was eternal summer. The beach was as white as refined sugar. The sea was every shade of aqua and blue in existence. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was, Amanda thought as she waded ashore, a perfect day for a picnic. She glanced at Josh, trying not to be obvious as she noticed his long, muscular legs in white Bermuda shorts. He was wearing a blue knit shirt with them, one that showed off the breadth of his chest and shoulders. He wore deck shoes and deftly unloaded their things in a few, easy strides. Amanda enjoyed watching him. She loved his hands. They were large and powerful, his fingers ending in broad, flat nails that were immaculately clean. She’d tied her long hair back in a ponytail for comfort, but she felt smaller and younger than ever as she walked along in his shadow to the shelter of palm trees and sea grape trees along the beach. “Was this an impulse?” she asked. He spread the white linen cloth on the ground and put the big wicker hamper on it, leaving Amanda to get out the plates and silverware while he removed the covered containers of food. “Yes. I do get them every once in a while,” he said. He glared teasingly at her over a tub of chilled tuna salad. “If you make one false move, so help me, I’ll bury you up to your pretty neck in the sand and leave you here.” She laughed, because he looked so menacing. “Would you, really?” “Probably not.” Her eyes met his. “I was only teasing, you know,” she said gently. “I don’t think of you as a...well, I really am old-fashioned about some things.” “I know.” He took a plate and handed her an open container with a service spoon. “Here. Eat something. You’ve been living on your nerves for too long already.” “It still hurts, a little,” she confessed, looking up. “Dad didn’t care very much for me, but he was all I had.” “That isn’t true. You still have Brad and Mirri and me.” “Yes. Yes, I do.” She took the container and filled her plate. Josh hadn’t brought swimming trunks, but that was just as well, because Amanda was more than content to lie in the sun. She was determined to get an even tan before she went home. Josh had stripped off his shirt and was lying on the beach bare-chested. She stared at him covertly, enjoying the power and masculine beauty of his body. He was very tan and muscular without being misshapen, as some overenthusiastic bodybuilders seemed to Amanda. He was long and lean, but not thin. His chest had a wedge of dark blond hair that ran in a wide band down to the waistband of his shorts. And probably beyond. “Are you tanned all over like that?” she asked without thinking. He didn’t open his eyes. He smiled, and one big hand went to the fastening of his shorts. “Want to see?” She laughed. The sound was silvery and sweet in the quiet of the island, unbroken except for the bubbling of the surf and the sound of sea gulls sweeping down onto the beach. “No. Thank you,” she added politely. He yawned. “Brad and I don’t bother with bathing suits when we’ve got the island to ourselves.” He glanced at her. “I don’t doubt that you’ve got white stripes all over, though.” Without looking at him she said, “With my luck, one of my neighbors would be hiding in the bushes with a videocamera, and I’d be on the six o’clock news for indecent exposure.” “There are spoilsports everywhere,” he murmured. “I’m tired.” He sounded faintly surprised. “You never sleep,” she said. “I’m amazed that you haven’t collapsed.” “I’m indestructible.” “Nobody is. When was the last time you had a physical?” “I’ve got one scheduled in two weeks,” he said. “My board of directors insists on it once a year.” He didn’t add that this year he’d gotten the courage to request an additional, private test. He wished now that he’d left it alone. Part of him didn’t want confirmation of something that he’d suspected for several years; another part wanted to be sure. “Good for them,” Amanda said. “None of us want you to drop dead, you know.” “Are you sure about that? I’m the only thing standing between you and the Gazette.” “You and my father’s will,” she emphasized. She sat up, looking down at him with soft green eyes. “And I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Not ever. Not for money or any other reason.” His eyes were very dark. They narrowed and ran slowly down to the V neck of her sleeveless T-shirt and back up again to her oval face with its exquisite expression. He found that looking at her gave him pleasure. It also kindled a curiosity that he was tired of fighting. Something inside him caught fire, burned. She was untouched, and he wanted her. Needed her. Was desperate for her. He could stand only so much, and the temptation she’d unwittingly offered him had made him restless and unable to sleep, even to work these last few days. He let out a slow breath and gave in to it. Just once, he told himself. No heavy stuff, and just...this once. He sat up, very slowly. His hand went to her mouth. He drew the tip of his forefinger softly over the curve of her lower lip, smearing lipstick and nerves as he held her eyes. His gaze fell to her soft mouth, and he bent his head. “This is not the best idea I’ve ever had. But kiss me anyway, Amanda,” he breathed as he leaned forward and his hard mouth fit itself slowly over hers. Amanda’s whole body clenched with tense pleasure. It was the first time—the very first time, despite her dreams of years past. The sweet shock of his mouth on her soft lips made her whimper and curl into him like ivy. She reached up, straining to get her arms around his neck. The kiss she’d wanted so badly was hers now, and she was drowning in it, being seared by it. Her body felt as if it were on fire. It throbbed and ached in the oddest places, and she felt her long, elegant legs trembling as he drew her across his body and began to deepen the kiss. The only men she’d ever kissed had been, for the most part, students at college. One or two of them had been experienced, but the majority had been like her—shy and introverted and not very experienced. She couldn’t ever remember being tempted to go to bed with any of them. But with Josh she felt differently. Perhaps their long friendship made him more acceptable to her, or perhaps it was the barely tamed sensuality of his mouth that devastated her senses. Whatever the explanation, she collapsed like an alcoholic drowning in liquor the minute he touched her. He seemed to know it, because he tempered his ardor to match her lack of experience. She stiffened when he gathered her hips against the aroused thrust of his own. He loosened his hold, concentrating instead on teasing her mouth with his tongue, nipping it gently with his teeth. She relaxed, and when she did, his hands slid back to her hips and tugged coaxingly until her belly was completely against his. Memories of his hands on another woman’s hips, pulling her to him as he loomed over her in the moonlit darkness filtered through Amanda’s mind. She gasped under his mouth, and he lifted his head with obvious reluctance. “Does it disturb you that I’m aroused?” he asked huskily. “Yes,” she confessed with embarrassment, hiding her face in his chest. He took deep breaths. His heartbeat was shaking his powerful body, but he didn’t try to force her to accept anything she didn’t want. He lifted her chin and searched her eyes slowly, seeing the desire and fear mingling there. That, and the adoration that she was too inexperienced to hide. She was deeply infatuated with him. He’d known it for years, but until now he’d managed not to do anything about it. He drew in a long, ragged breath and moved away from her. “No,” he said quietly. “I can’t handle this, Amanda.” She licked her lips and tasted him on them. He looked as unsettled as she felt, but he was fighting the feeling. And winning. He got to his feet and lit a cigar as he walked down to the surf. By the time he came back, Amanda had everything in the hamper. She tried to act as if nothing had happened. He reached down to pick up his shirt, knowing Amanda watched his nude torso. Still aroused, he turned away, dragging the shirt over his head. This wouldn’t do. It really wouldn’t. Her mouth was the closest he’d ever been to heaven, but he wouldn’t start something he couldn’t finish. “We’d better go,” he said quietly. “Brad should be back soon. I want to know how he made out.” “I’m ready when you are,” she said pleasantly. He took the hamper, and she walked silently beside him back to the launch. On the way back, their uncomfortable silence was broken by a sudden gale. It wasn’t at all frightening to her. Nothing was, with Josh at the controls. She’d seen him in all sorts of dangerous situations over the years. Once, a sudden squall had come up when they were in the twin-engine plane he’d owned before the Learjet. His cool nerve and unruffled competence had stayed with her as he’d turned what could have been a tragic accident into an adventure. “What are you thinking about?” he asked on the way across to New Providence, his voice sounding odd in the purr of the engines. “About how well you handle danger,” she replied honestly. “You’re very cool under fire.” “I had extensive training, having to face my board of directors with expansion proposals,” he said dryly. “It takes nerve to make money.” “Don’t I know it.” She grimaced. “I don’t know if I’ll have anything to inherit when I’m twenty-five. It looks as if Ward Johnson is going to lose it all,” she said irritably. “His mind isn’t really on the job lately.” “Give it up,” he advised. “You ought to know by now that I don’t budge when I think I’m right.” His fingers danced over the controls as Opal Cay came into view on the horizon. “Hold tight.” He pushed the throttle forward, and his dark eyes danced as he fought the squall and the whitecaps on the way in to the small marina. When they were on the pier, he smiled with wicked amusement at the look on her face. “I thought you trusted me at the controls.” “I do. But I really don’t like getting into anything that’s over my head.” “Don’t you?” In his dark eyes there was a soft, sensual threat that made her pulse leap. But he didn’t follow up on it. He took her arm and the hamper and walked briskly toward the house. Dinner that night was delicious, but Amanda had no real appetite. The lethal combination of Josh’s sexy company and the certainty that she had to go back to Texas soon took the edge off the pleasure of the evening. “Do you want something else?” he asked with concern. “It’s not the food. It’s wonderful,” she said. She put down her fork. “I really have to go back.” “Why?” he asked irritably. “Are you afraid the business will fail in a week if you aren’t there to save it?” “Don’t be sarcastic,” she said. “And that just might be the case, even if you won’t believe me.” “Don’t try to live your life in a flaming rush, Amanda,” he cautioned. “You’ve got all the time in the world.” “Have I?” She looked down at his hand on the white linen cloth, with its dark tan and scattering of blond-tipped brown hair. “The most exciting thing I’ve ever done was to go to a professional wrestling match where the audience became the feature attraction.” He chuckled. “I remember. I had to rescue you. As I recall,” he added with malicious glee, “you started it.” She shifted restlessly. “Well, they called my favorite wrestler a bum and started cheering for that madman who was stomping his face.” “And you rushed to his rescue.” “Somebody had to!” He burst out laughing, his dark eyes soft with indulgent humor. “You’re delightful, did you know? You don’t primp for hours, you don’t demand diamonds and furs, you don’t even insist on going the party rounds every night. You’re unique as a companion.” “Unique as yours, I suppose,” she said without looking at him. “Or don’t you usually take your dinner companions to bed?” “If I didn’t respect you so much, I’d take you there in a minute,” he replied easily. He finished his cocktail. “But we share too much history. I have nothing to offer you,” he said solemnly. “Nothing at all.” The finality with which he made the statement chilled her. The bleak look in his eyes puzzled her, because coexisting with it was a frank, blistering hot hunger. “You want me,” he said suddenly. “But you still aren’t quite sure how you want me, are you, Amanda? You’re looking for fairy-tale situations, roses and perfume, happily ever after.” “No,” she began, unsure of where this conversation was going. “A relationship isn’t all candlelight and soft music, honey,” he said quietly. “It’s raw and sensual, and people get hurt. A man changes when he’s been with a woman he desires.” “Yes. He doesn’t want her anymore,” she said knowledgeably. “Not always,” he said sharply. “Sometimes he wants her all the time, to the exclusion of business, honor, morality, anything! That happened to me with Terri. I got careless because I needed her so badly. That’s why you saw us that night on the beach. I thought of nothing but her body, was so enthralled by it that I couldn’t go even one night without having it. She was just as hungry for me. That kind of attraction can blind you, even when love isn’t involved.” “Oh.” “That kind of desperation leaves you out of control,” he persisted. “It can convince you to make love in a parked car in the middle of rush hour traffic. That’s why I don’t have love affairs anymore. I have casual encounters that end almost as soon as they begin.” He dropped his eyes to her hands, which were locked together on the table. “I hate addiction. I smoke cigars instead of cigarettes because they’re easier to give up. I drink brandy, not whiskey, because I can take it or leave it. I never have more than one drink at a party, because I don’t want the risk of losing control.” Amanda had known these things, but she also knew he was addicted to smoking, whether or not he admitted it to himself. It cut her heart to know that he wanted no deep relationship again. Because she did. He got to his feet. “I have to meet someone at the airport in Nassau. Ted’s going to take me over in the launch.” “All right.” He paused, staring down at her. “You and I have been friends for a long time. I don’t want to lose that because we touched each other and flames kindled, or because you want something in business that I don’t want to give you.” “You’ll always be my friend, Josh,” she said, smiling tightly. “I hope I’ll always be yours.” He moved closer to her chair and, leaning a hand on the table, bent so that his face was much too near. His breath brushed her lips when he spoke. “I owe you more than a broken heart.” She reached up and touched his face. It tautened, and his eyes kindled. “Do you want me?” she asked in a husky whisper. “I’m bleeding to death for you,” he replied, his voice rough with passion. “And do you know what I’m going to do about it?” Her lips parted on a rush of breath. “No. What?” “Absolutely nothing.” He moved away from her, and the tension in his body was visible. “It’s the only noble thing I’ve ever done in my life. How’s that for a joke?” He laughed bitterly. A minute later he was gone. CHAPTER FIVE (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7) BRAD CLOSED THE deal in Montego Bay, but he took his time getting back to Opal Cay. He had real problems. He had to find a way to cover his bets before he lost something more precious than money. He needed cash, fast. His only hope was to persuade Josh to pull his irons out of the fire one more time. But that wasn’t really likely. Josh didn’t understand weaknesses, because he didn’t have any. He wasn’t vulnerable. Calculated business decisions were his life. He was one of the world’s strongest people, who never leaned or needed to lean on others. How could he possibly understand a passion for gambling? Not, Brad reflected, that he couldn’t quit whenever he wanted to. It’s just that until now, he hadn’t wanted to. Next time, for sure. He felt something cold suddenly splash against his suit sleeve. “OhmigodI’msorry!” tumbled out of the waitress’s pretty mouth. She was wearing a spandex skirt that barely covered the top of her thighs, with a clinging white body shirt open over the taut swell of brown breasts. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and incredibly sexy. So sexy that he didn’t notice the brown stain on his spotless gray suit sleeve or feel the wetness. “Hello,” he murmured sensually. “Hello!” she replied, grinning. Her hair was full of colorful, lacy bows. “I’m Barbara, your waitress.” “Brad Lawson,” he replied, letting his eyes run down her. The five-star restaurant wasn’t crowded this evening. Except for himself and about five couples, it was practically empty. There was this walking dessert here, of course. Her eyes grew big. “Really?” she asked. “Are you Joshua Lawson’s brother?” Big brother was known everywhere. He wondered if Josh had sampled this delight and decided that he probably hadn’t. Josh’s taste ran to brunettes. In that way, if no other, he was predictable. “That’s who I am,” he agreed. “Your brother had lunch here once,” she said, explaining how she knew him. “I was crying because my mother had gone to the hospital with a heart attack. Mr. Lawson squared it with my boss so that I could have time off to sit with her. He’s very nice.” He smiled, relaxing. “Yes, he is. So am I, of course. I’m intelligent, handsome, rich, and incredibly modest.” She laughed. “Are you?” He put his hand over his heart, momentarily taken out of his woes. “Modest to a fault. Bring me a vat of fried oysters and I’ll make all your dreams come true.” She blushed, but she giggled, too. “Could you?” “Can sharks swim? Away with you! Get those oysters. Hurry, we don’t have a second to lose!” She laughed. “All right. Would you like something to drink?” “A glass of champagne. Champagne and oysters are the secret of Casanova’s success, I’m sure of it.” “Well,” she murmured with subtle coquetry, “we’ll see, won’t we?” His body tautened at the look in her eyes. He smiled slowly. He wouldn’t make it back to the cay tonight. He hoped Josh wouldn’t scream too loudly. * * * AMANDA WENT UP to her room early, bored with her own company. She heard Josh go out, but she was fast asleep when he came home. And Brad still hadn’t shown up by morning. It was going on nine in the morning when Amanda phoned Mirri in San Antonio, before she went down to breakfast. She hadn’t spoken to her best friend since the funeral, and she was feeling fragile. Josh was driving her mad. “Are you okay?” Mirri asked her immediately. “I suppose, except for having to fight Josh at every turn,” she replied. “Really?!” Mirri enthused. “How exciting!” She was glad Mirri couldn’t see her telltale blush. “For a foothold at the newspaper, you idiot,” Amanda murmured with forced humor. She lay back on the green-and-white-patterned bedspread with a sigh, her long black hair radiating out from her face in soft waves. “I mean, it’s not going to be an easy road to upper-level management. My credentials don’t impress him.” “All that brainwork wasted.” The other woman sighed. “Well, if at first you don’t succeed...” “I didn’t really expect him to turn the whole enterprise over to me. He said that I don’t have the experience, and he’s right. But I can get it,” she added stubbornly. “I was at least hoping for partial control.” “Don’t step on any toes,” she cautioned. “The reigning editor has chopped off more educated and talented employees than you know. He’s underhanded and unscrupulous when it comes to keeping his cozy nest. The only reason he keeps Joshua in the dark is because your new partner hardly ever has time to get a look in.” “You’ve been working for the FBI too long,” Amanda pointed out. “You’re beginning to sound like an agent.” “Don’t I wish.” Again she sighed. “I’m just a paralegal with big dreams and bad eyes. Do you know what Nelson Stuart told me? He actually said my red hair was too blatant for a government agent!” “I didn’t think you were speaking to Mr. Stuart.” “He’s the senior agent,” she muttered. “I have to speak to him. I thought I might try law school. He had something to say about that idea, too.” “Well?” “He said you needed a brain for that.” “Maybe they’ll transfer him to someplace cold.” “I volunteered him for Yuma, Arizona. I thought he’d feel more at home someplace hot.” Amanda laughed. She’d seen the steely Mr. Stuart once. He was as dark as Joshua was fair, lean and cold-eyed and very much the lawman. He and the vivacious Mirri had been enemies from her first day at the San Antonio FBI office. The situation hadn’t improved much in two years. Mirri threatened to quit more often these days, of course. Mr. Stuart had asked that she be transferred. Neither one of them had had much luck. Or perhaps it was more a case of not wanting to have much luck. They were a very volatile couple, and Amanda often thought that it was as much due to a flaming attraction as it was to the hostility they camouflaged it with. “When are you coming back?” Mirri asked. “You don’t have anybody to talk to over there, and I know Joshua can be hard on your nerves. Not that I don’t think a lot of him for taking such good care of you.” “That’s for old times’ sake, I think,” Amanda said quietly. “I owe him a lot. He deserves so much more than a life of mergers and takeovers. It’s a pity that he never married and had children.” “Joshua Lawson?!” Mirri exclaimed. “Married? Ha! That’ll be the day.” There was a pause. “On second thought, there was that South American heiress he was squiring around in New York last month. I forget her name, but they made the color insert in one of the grocery store tabloids. Josh is very handsome, isn’t he?” Amanda didn’t want to think about Josh’s women. She knew he had them, all too well, but it was much more comfortable to keep her head in the sand and not confront the reasons it bothered her. “I suppose,” she replied noncommittally. “Listen, I’ll be home at the end of the week,” she continued, changing the subject. “We can go shopping. Now that I work every day, I find I don’t have enough clothes to cover the whole week. When I was in school I could wear jeans and T-shirts.” “Okay. I’ll go shopping with you, if Josh lets you come home so quickly. He may think you need more of a break, and I’d have to agree,” she added solemnly. “Taking care of your dad and working every day took its toll on you.” “I figure that if you agree to take a job, it’s your responsibility,” she reminded her friend. “I like working. Dad had private nurses, thanks to Josh. He never paid much attention to me, even when he was so sick.” “He never paid much attention to you, period,” Mirri said coldly. “Just like my father. If I’d had somebody to take care of me when I was in my teens, maybe I wouldn’t be the emotional wreck I am now. He turned me loose. He never cared that I went out at night alone, and I was too stupid to know the danger.” She paused, her voice thin with memories as they came back to haunt her. “Sweet Jesus,” she whispered reverently, gripping the telephone cord, “what I’d have been spared if my mother hadn’t died. My life changed when your father sent you to my grammar school instead of a private school.” “We had each other, Mirri,” Amanda said with a smile. “Even after I had to transfer to that private high school. Even when your worst nightmare came true.” “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have killed myself that night,” Mirri said soberly. She was silent for a minute, remembering the details of that horrible night. Too often they played through her mind. But Amanda was the only one she dared tell. “You took me home with you because Dad was out of town. I cried all night long after we got back from the hospital, and you sat up with me.” “You should have accepted the counseling they offered,” Amanda ventured. “Talk about...that...to a bunch of strangers?” Mirri asked, incredulous. “It’s bad enough to have Nelson Stuart looking at me as if he thinks I stepped out of a brothel. He thinks I’m one bad lady.” “You might tell him that vivacious persona is a mask.” “Are you nuts?!” Mirri burst out. “Anyway, Mr. Stuart’s opinion of me and fifty cents might buy me a cup of coffee.” “You’re hopeless.” “And getting worse. Look, I’ve got to run. You take care of yourself.” “You, too. See you soon.” As Mirri hung up, she became aware of dark eyes staring at her, glaring at her. She was wearing a colorful skirt with a red peasant blouse—wild colors that suited her and disguised the shamed severity of her soul. Her long red hair fell in natural waves to her shoulders, and her blue eyes were big and thick-lashed in a face dominated by pale skin and freckles. “Using the company phone on company time, Miss Walsh?” he asked without smiling. “It’s my coffee break, and I got called. I didn’t call anyone.” She propped her chin on her hands, supported by her elbows on the desk, and gave him a big-eyed stare. “May I ask you something, Mr. Stuart?” One dark eye narrowed. “What?” “Is that your real face, or one you glue on every morning?” The glare got worse. “It’s just that you never smile, sir,” she said with an irrepressible grin. “I only wondered if your face would crack if you tried.” “Proper use of the telephone goes with your responsibilities,” he told her stiffly. “No personal calls on company time, whether or not you initiate them.” “I still have—” she checked her watch “—two more minutes on my coffee break. And if you aren’t certain that I didn’t initiate the call, you can always check,” she offered. “After all, you whiz-bang FBI guys can get access to telephone company records, right?” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “In addition, I would appreciate it if you could dress in an appropriate manner around this predominantly masculine office.” She looked at herself, from her huge dangly gold circle earrings to her jangly gold bracelets. “You mean, you’d like me to go naked?! Mr. Stuart!” She raised her voice just as two of the younger agents came in the door and quickly averted their faces. They disappeared into another office with muffled hysteria while Mr. Stuart’s bruised dignity healed itself. “On the contrary, Miss Walsh,” he said through his teeth, “having you naked in the office would be much less of a distraction than having you dress like a kaleidoscope!” He turned and walked into his office, closing the door with a subdued thump. Mirri watched the door for a minute. Then she licked the point of her index finger and, with a grin, made a mark in the air. “One for my side,” she murmured dryly. * * * JOSHUA WAS PREOCCUPIED as he made his way out of the Lincoln he’d just driven around to the village on the other side of the island. He maintained a small cottage industry there so that the local people could better their standard of living. The islanders on Opal Cay, like many of the Bahamian people, were skilled craftspersons. They wove palm fronds into intricately designed baskets and purses and hats and wall hangings. On New Providence, where Nassau was located, a huge warehouse had long since been converted at St. George Wharf into individual stalls where crafts could be sold by Bahamian merchants to tourists on incoming ocean liners that docked at the bay. But this was a notoriously low-paying procedure, especially as tourists felt obliged to bargain the friendly merchants down so low that they were making the equivalent of one US dollar for a purse or hat that had taken all day to make. This sort of thing had irritated Josh, who knew full well that people who could afford the trip to the Bahamas could afford to pay five dollars for a handmade straw hat or purse. So he’d worked out a deal with a friend in Kansas who ran an import shop. Crafts made by his employees were marketed in a place far from the ocean, where such exotic goods were rare indeed and brought a fair price. Joshua furnished the raw materials from which the crafts were made by people on Opal Cay and arranged for their transport and sale. The islanders paid no rent. After all, he reasoned when some of them protested, wasn’t it their land to begin with? A piece of paper was no claim on land that generations had loved and nurtured. There was a resident nurse and a small clinic where a French physician called twice a week. Joshua made available modern amenities like electricity and running water, but only for those who wanted them. He forced change and acculturation on no one. Studying the Native American experience had convinced him that trying to absorb a culture and change it completely was nothing more than slow genocide. What he was doing on Opal Cay was meant only to give the people the means to do as they pleased with their own culture. They had requested that he appoint a manager for their profits, which he had. With investments and securities, they were amassing a sizable nest egg. If something ever happened to him, or his empire, they would not be at the mercy of some newcomer who might buy the island and value profit over native population. He felt at an ebb. The death of Amanda’s father had put more strain on him, and he was feeling the burden of endless rounds of talks and bargaining that he now had to shoulder alone. Brad was essentially a contact man, a public relations whiz who could charm just about anyone. But, if pushed hard enough, his brother would give in to deal-breaking points. Josh would crack wide open before he yielded an inch. He paused in the study long enough to pour himself a small brandy. He’d planned to go into Nassau again to talk to the minister of education about upgrading the computers in the school system, but the gentleman was out of town, and he couldn’t get an appointment until next week. He really was tired. Brad hadn’t come back from Montego Bay or telephoned, and he knew that meant one of two things: his baby brother had stumbled onto either a willing girl or a high-stakes poker game. He didn’t honestly know which would be worse. Brad was careful, but it was a dangerous world for a womanizer. His own reputation was more myth than fact, to keep women at bay. But Brad’s reputation was earned. While he was glaring into his brandy snifter, Amanda came into the room, in jeans and a white tank top with her long black hair in a braid down her back. She stopped at the door. “I didn’t hear you drive up.” He studied her figure, liking its slender, elegant lines. “Imagine keeping a Lincoln just to drive around a tiny island. Extravagant, isn’t it, but visitors are impressed by it.” “No doubt.” He liked the way she looked, young and fresh and unpretentious. His heart ached at the sight of her. Almost involuntarily, he moved forward and touched his brandy snifter gently to her full lower lip, which was devoid of lipstick. “Taste.” “I don’t like brandy,” she began. “It’s an acquired taste. Acquire it.” He smiled slowly, and she couldn’t resist him. She tasted it and made a face as it stung her tongue. “You’re the one indulging in it. Why force me?” she asked, watching him reach out to place the snifter on the bar. “Because.” She smiled back at him, delighted at his playfulness, then stunned when he casually draped his arm around her. Amanda’s heart ran wild at the closeness, at the feel of all that warm strength and power so near. He looked tall and intimidating at this range. Far too handsome for comfort with the overhead light making metallic patterns in his blond hair, with his dark eyes narrow and sensuous looking into hers. Her breath caught as his fingers stroked down the side of her neck. His voice was deep and soft in the stillness. His eyes searched hers. She could feel his breath on her parted lips. “Being near you makes me hungry.” Amanda quivered and drew in her breath at the suggestion of such intimacy. He cocked an eyebrow at the betraying gasp and let his gaze fall deliberately to her mouth. He dragged his thumb over it. She wanted him. He wanted her. He kept fighting the temptation to give in to it, but it got worse by the day. He moved away from her abruptly and picked up his drink. “I must be more exhausted than I realized,” he said dryly as he bent his head to light a cigar. “Where do you fancy eating tonight?” he asked. Amanda was still trembling inside, but if he could shake off that kind of sensual temptation, so could she. “I still like seafood.” He turned, with frank admiration in his eyes. He didn’t like most women, but Amanda was unique: an independent woman with a mind of her own who could still be very, very feminine when she wanted to. “So do I. Go change and we’ll go.” “Okay,” she added, and hesitated. She looked worried. He sighed. “You can trust me. I don’t have plans to seduce you on the table.” She sighed. “Pity,” she murmured, tongue-in-cheek. She could learn to play his game if she had to, she thought to herself. He cocked an eyebrow. “I told you. I’m not that kind of man. I want some assurances, or I’m not leaving the island with you.” She laughed delightedly. She could manage her turbulent emotions with humor. Right now it was the only safety valve she had. “Oh, all right, then,” she laughed. His gaze slid over her without expression, although there was an unfamiliar glitter in it. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said quietly. He made it sound like a statement of intent. “When I’m ready?” “Are you going to dress?” he asked with polite interest. He flicked his wrist and checked the time. “Because I’ve got a long-distance call coming in three hours that I have to be back here for.” “Oh. Sorry. I’ll hurry.” He was, she thought as she rushed upstairs to dress, the most exasperating man she’d ever met. He wasn’t like Josh lately. He was intense and watchful. He’d wanted to kiss her, but he seemed always to catch himself in time. She wanted to push him off balance and see what happened. Something was bothering him, something deeply personal. She wished she could ask what it was. * * * BACK IN MONTEGO BAY, a frustrated Brad had spent a fruitless evening and morning trying to seduce one saucy little blonde waitress. He hadn’t had any success, and his own woes were playing on his mind. The call he’d just received was from Las Vegas, from a flunky who worked for the casino owner to whom he owed a fortune. Perhaps, he thought, if he could speak to the owner himself, he could buy enough time to tell Josh how much trouble he was in. He hadn’t managed that much nerve just yet. He picked up the phone in the suite he’d rented and dialed a stateside number, waiting impatiently for it to ring. “Desert Paradise Casino,” came the reply eventually, in a soft, seductive voice. “Let me speak to Marc Donner,” he said shortly. “One moment. I’ll see if Mr. Donner is in. May I tell him who’s calling, please?” “Tell him it’s Brad Lawson.” There was a very long pause before the telephone was answered. “Donner.” The voice was deep, unaccented, and without compromise. It reminded Brad vaguely of his older brother. “I’m working on the money I owe you,” he told the man. “I’m staying on Opal Cay. One way or the other, I’ll have it in a few weeks, a month at the outside.” “Do you think your brother will give it to you?” came the amused reply. “Josh Lawson isn’t known for a life of frivolity.” “No, but he’s known for other reasons,” Brad said defensively. “Sure. His money and his cutthroat approach to business. But he won’t save you if you try to duck out of paying me,” the silky voice purred. “And just between us, I don’t think he’ll try. He doesn’t like gamblers. Even ones he’s related to.” “Blood is thicker than water.” “Strange that you should mention blood,” Donner said carelessly. “Don’t let me down, Lawson. Don’t even think about it.” “I told you. I’m working on it.” The man chilled Brad’s blood. Donner had been connected with a couple of murders though he’d never gone to court for any of them. Brad was worried, but he had nobody to blame except himself. He didn’t really expect Josh to bail him out of this one. No, he’d have to get himself out of this mess. “I’ll get back to you next week.” “You’d better. I know where to find you.” “Don’t I know it.” He sighed and put down the receiver. He needed to get his hands on a substantial amount of cash at once. He’d tried his luck at the tables, but that hadn’t worked. He knew Donner was too intelligent to leave him bleeding in a ditch even if he did look more like a wrestler than a casino owner. He would probably show up at a board meeting, cause a scene, and blow the whistle on him. Josh would then have no choice but to pay the debt and kick Brad out. Brad winced at the thought of it. He had to find a way out—any way out. CHAPTER SIX (#u54ebb397-f92d-5428-bdc6-20eb1b0060e7) AMANDA WAS SLEEPING LATE. Josh had taken her to dinner the night before, but it had been a quiet, uncomfortable outing. Despite his attempt at humor, he was having trouble coping with their new relationship. He couldn’t seduce her, but it was impossible to think of her as Harrison Todd’s little girl anymore. He seemed to have spent the entire time working to keep his hands off her while he endured the gnawing ache in his loins. By the time they got back home, his nerves, and apparently hers, were shot. They parted company at once. She’d mentioned going home Friday, which was tomorrow. He hadn’t argued. He’d wanted to, but she was right. It was a hopeless situation, and every day they spent together made matters worse. He didn’t want to hurt her. For her sake, it was better that she left before he lost his precarious control. He sat down in his study and reached for the telephone. It might be a good idea, he thought, to find out how things were going with the newspaper back in San Antonio. If, as Amanda had said, Ward Johnson was paying less attention to management than he should, it didn’t bode well for the paper’s financial future—or that job press she was so worried about saving. He could at least insure that Amanda had a reasonably secure future. * * * WARD JOHNSON WAS making up the front page when he was called to the telephone. Down the long wooden makeup board from him, Dora Jackson was making up a grocery ad while one of the part-time people wrote cutlines for the photographs and headlines for stories as they were pasted up with hot wax on the ruled sheets. Putting down his scissors Ward walked to the extension phone behind him. As he spoke, he couldn’t help staring at Dora. It was inconvenient having a woman who looked as good as she did in the office with him. Once they had been high school sweethearts. Now they were both married and trying to keep up happy facades. It had been impulsive and crazy of him to hire her when she’d come looking for something to keep her busy. “Johnson,” he spoke into the receiver. “Lawson,” came the terse reply. “I want an update on the paper’s finances.” It took Ward a long moment to realize that his caller was Joshua Lawson. He hesitated. “Mr. Lawson,” he stammered, caught off guard. “The finances...oh, you mean the quarterly report.” “That’s right. I need you to fax it to me today.” “I’ll get right on it.” “Include an update on the job press, could you?” “Well, I told you about that,” Ward reminded him. “It’s a waste of capital. The newspaper will carry us along.” “I’ve heard rumors that the Morrison group is in the planning stages of producing a throwaway to go in competition with the Gazette.” That was something Josh hadn’t mentioned to Amanda. She’d had enough stress for the past two weeks. The publication he was talking about was a free newspaper that contained mostly advertising with only a modicum of news. It was a handout, and no weekly newspaper with a subscription list could compete with one. It would rob them of advertisers in no time at all. There was a pause. “Do you know how to cope with competition from a shopper?” he added dryly. Ward cursed under his breath. “I know all right. If you haven’t got an efficient operation, you might as well close the place down. You can’t compete with a shopper. It attracts advertisers like glue, and you don’t even have to charge for it.” “That being the case, our revenues will have to be pretty good to stand the competition.” “I’ll get the figures for you. How’s Amanda?” “Healing. She’ll be back to work on Monday.” “Nice girl. Hard worker. A little too involved sometimes. She’s full of ideas that won’t really work.” “Really?” Ward smiled to himself. So much for taking the wind out of Miss Todd’s sails. He’d felt threatened for the first time in years when she’d walked in the door. He knew that her family had owned the paper and that she stood to inherit a half interest or so at some point. But he’d been running the operation for fifteen years, answering only to Harrison Todd. For the past few years no one had interfered with his methods. Then Amanda had come to work for him. He wasn’t amenable to having a girl fresh out of college trying to give him orders. It was just as well that Joshua Lawson knew that, right off the bat. After all, Lawson owned the majority of the paper’s stock. “She’s a good accountant,” Ward added to soften his criticism. It wouldn’t do to sound as if he were threatened, even if he was. “Nice head for figures.” “So I’ve been told. Are your advertising rates up?” “No need to raise them,” Ward argued. “We’re undercutting the dailies. We get enough without driving away old customers.” Josh was too cagey to question that without seeing the figures. He had his finger in too many pies to keep a close check on any of his side interests. For Amanda’s sake, he was going to have to get a closer look at the Gazette. “What’s the problem about the job press?” “There are three other print shops with more people and more modern equipment than we have. We’ve lost a lot of customers to the quick-print place that just opened in San Antonio. It does photocopies.” “I thought Harrison bought you a high-quality copier?” “The girl who knew how to operate it quit. The new girl just sets type. She doesn’t know much about printing, and Tim, who runs the presses, doesn’t have time to run out and make copies when he’s got negatives and plates to make.” Josh wanted to argue with that. Just as well he’d asked for those figures. He’d keep his counsel until then. “All right. Get me those figures.” “Late this afternoon, for sure. I’ll have to wait until after we put the paper to bed.” “That’s fine.” The line went dead. Josh wondered how much of what Johnson had said was true. Amanda was an eager beaver, but she was sharp, too. There were plenty of holes in Johnson’s management theory. It was possible that Amanda was right about the job press. But the competition could be killing their business. It had happened to other print shops. Now that he had access to the entire operation—something he hadn’t had while Harrison was still alive—he could keep Johnson on his toes and hopefully keep Amanda’s inheritance solvent. He had a feeling the figures weren’t going to be particularly pleasing. Back in San Antonio, Ward Johnson was certain of it. He ran a hand through his sandy hair and stared with unhappy resignation at the figures as he produced them from the computer. He knew how to run the machine, although Amanda was a whiz at it. But he hadn’t bothered to analyze its performance. He just plugged along from day to day, secure in the knowledge that old advertisers would stay with him and a few new ones would come along. The paper was paying for itself. Barely. He’d had so much turmoil in his private life that he hadn’t wanted complications or problems on the job. He hadn’t wanted to rock the boat and upset people by offering a new price list. But after he’d studied the spreadsheet, he wished he’d listened when Amanda had first mentioned that things were getting out of hand in the revenue column. Prices had gone up everywhere else, she’d said, and needed to go up here. Ward had laughed at her and said that people would go elsewhere if he raised his prices now, for newspaper ads or job work in the print shop. But, looking at the figures, he realized that she was right. He was operating in the red because he’d been too involved with his own problems at home to go over the books regularly. Prices would have to be raised, for a certainty. That meant he’d have to put in some late hours working on them. In addition he had to send this proof of ineptitude to Joshua Lawson. He grimaced. No. He didn’t dare. He was thirty-four years old. He wasn’t in his dotage, but it would be difficult to get another job at his age, even if he wasn’t proven incompetent. Gladys would love it if they fired him. She’d laugh. His wife always laughed at his failures. She enjoyed them. She always had, even before she’d climbed too deep into her bottle of gin to get out again. He didn’t know which was worse, Gladys or his son. Sometimes he felt as if he were carrying the world on his broad shoulders. He couldn’t make enough to keep Gladys in gin and his son in drugs. The boy wouldn’t work. He wasn’t lucid enough to work. Ward carefully changed a few key figures. With any luck at all, before the next quarter’s figures went out, he’d have boosted them to this altered sum. It wasn’t dishonest. He was only buying a little time. “I need to ask a question, Ward,” Dora said, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up. She was so sweet, he thought. Pleasantly voluptuous, with a sweet smile and freckles and reddish-gold hair framing her very blue eyes. He wondered why she looked so sad. She had a successful husband, an educator, and two sons in grammar school. “Ward?” she prompted, flushing a little at his pointed stare. “Oh. Sorry.” He smiled, his brown eyes twinkling. “What can I do for you, honey?” The endearment made her flush even more, and he felt his chest swell. He still had an effect on her. Leaning back in his chair, he looked at her, a faint arrogance creeping over his face. He felt eighteen again, bristling with predatory masculine instincts. Although they’d never been really intimate in high school, they had spent a lot of time together. “I wondered if you needed me for anything else?” Dora asked. “I only work mornings, you know.” She smiled, seeing Ward as he had been at eighteen when he was captain of the football squad and she’d led the cheerleading team. In her eyes, he’d never aged. He looked at the computer and grimaced. “I could certainly use some help with this,” he said. “Can you operate a fax machine?” “Why, yes,” she said. “I did a little part-time work for an insurance company last year, and they had this same model,” she added, moving toward the machine. “Thank God,” he said. “Amanda Todd always works this one, and she won’t be back until Monday.” “Is she all right?” Dora asked. “I like Amanda. She’s always been so nice to me.” “It’s easy to be nice to you, Dora,” he replied quietly. “Yes, she’s fine. Sad, I imagine, but she’s got the Lawsons to pamper her for a week and a luxury island in the Bahamas to lounge on. She’ll manage.” “Mr. Lawson is very good to her,” she remarked. “Both Lawsons are,” he mused. “The families go way back.” He sat up. “Well, I need to get back in there and finish making up the paper. I’ll have to do a lot of this paperwork tonight. Would your family mind sacrificing you for an hour or two a couple of nights a week until I can catch up?” “I’m sure they won’t,” she replied with a faintly nervous smile. “Edgar is taking a college course on his lunch hour this semester. He’ll be home with the boys at night, grading papers or talking to students or tutoring,” she said with more bitterness than she realized. “And all my boys do is play sports and talk about them. As long as everyone is fed and the house is clean, my time is pretty much my own,” she added miserably. Ward couldn’t bear the thought of anyone as sweet and loving as Dora being taken for granted. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I can’t imagine any man grading papers when you’re in the same room. If you don’t mind my saying so,” he added, careful not to offend her. But she brightened and flushed a little. “No, of course not!” He smiled. He grinned. She made him feel like a man again. “Okay, then,” he said. “I’ll see you later.” “Fine.” She nodded. She started to speak, hesitated, and then plowed ahead. “How...how about your family?” she asked. “Don’t they mind you working such late hours?” He sighed wearily. “Gladys is...well, I’m sure you’ve heard about her drinking. Everyone else here has. Half the time I don’t think she knows if I’m there or not,” he said. “And my son...” He let out a long breath. “He blames me for his mother’s drinking. They’ll both tell you I’m a total failure.” “That isn’t the Ward Johnson I remember,” she said gently. She smiled. “You could never be a failure.” He stared at her. “You really think so?” She nodded. “I really think so. I’m sorry things are so bad for you.” The compassion in her blue eyes made him hungry and vulnerable. He wanted that caring for himself. He wanted someone to give a damn that his life was an unbearable mess. Dora appealed to everything masculine in him, and his body reacted suddenly, sharply, to her nearness. “Can you come back about seven?” he asked. She nodded. “Yes. Of course. I’ll just paste up the rest of the personals.” She went out quietly. In the waiting room she hesitated, gnawing her full lower lip. She was going to get in over her head if she wasn’t careful. She was a married woman with young sons, and Ward was a drowning man looking for someone to jump in and save him. The problem with trying to save drowning people was that if you weren’t careful, they’d pull you down with them. She couldn’t possibly risk getting mixed up romantically with her boss. San Rio was a small community, despite being a cosmopolitan suburb of sprawling San Antonio. She and her husband went to the local Baptist church. He taught Sunday school. Her boys were involved in every sports activity they could find, which meant the family was very well known locally. She was a pillar of the community, as an educator’s wife had to be, even in these permissive times. She couldn’t afford any hint of scandal. But she’d known Ward forever. He was a part of her happier, carefree past, and she cared about him. She felt sorry for him. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to work late with him. She could listen to his problems and help him get home to his family quicker. She passed by Lisa Marlowe, who was busily setting type on the computer, and spared the girl a faintly envious glance. Lisa was just eighteen. She had her whole life ahead of her. Right now all she talked about was boys and getting married. Dora wanted to catch her by the arms and warn her that there was no such thing as happily ever after, that romance was the stuff of novels. Be careful, she wanted to say. There are no happy endings. If you choose the wrong man and you’re too weak to break the chains of your relationship, you’ll live to regret it. But even if she said it, Lisa wouldn’t believe her; she was too full of youthful optimism. With a sad little laugh she went back into the composing room to finish her work. * * * AMANDA HAD TAKEN a cup of coffee with her down to the beach while Josh was making telephone calls. Harriet pointed him toward the direction she’d taken. He grinned at the jovial black woman and took his own cup of coffee along with him as he went in search of Amanda. He found her perched on a sand dune, clad in jeans and a silky top in peacock blue, her long hair blowing around her in the wind. “Avoiding me?” he asked pleasantly. He sat down beside her, stretching lazily. He was wearing tan slacks with a beige silk shirt, but he didn’t mind the sand. She had been trying to, yes. She’d hoped against hope the night before that he might kiss her, hold her, tell her that he couldn’t live without her. But she was living on daydreams. The reality was that if Terri couldn’t get a wedding band on his finger, she never would. She loved him, wanted him, would have been happy to live with him any way he liked. But he wouldn’t let her close enough. He’d told her that without saying a single word. “I just wanted to watch the surf for a while,” she said at last. She stared into her coffee cup. “Can you have the jet fly me back to San Antonio in the morning?” He drew up his legs and rested his hands, with his own coffee cup, between his knees. “Certainly. Are you sure you’re ready to go?” “Work will be good for me,” she replied. “It will help keep my mind busy. Too much free time can be uncomfortable.” He knew why. But he didn’t say so. She didn’t look at him. Her coffee had gone cold. She let it trickle out onto the sand. “I’ve enjoyed being here,” she said. She felt him beside her. Every cell in her body reacted to him. Her heartbeat was already faster than normal just from the sound of his deep voice, from his company. She loved him, an unrequited love that was only going to hurt her more every time she looked at him. He probably was trying to be kind, but she wanted him so! His broad shoulders moved as he settled lazily on his side in the soft, warm sand. He sipped coffee. “I just spoke to Ward Johnson.” “Can you repeat anything he said about me?” she asked with a knowing smile. “He thinks you’re bright,” he replied. He smiled back. “And ‘inquisitive.’” Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/diana-palmer/escapade/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. 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