“Yes, but if he’s here under an alias…”
“It doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s up to something evil.”
“You’re the one who made a point of the fact that the man is not who he says he is.”
“Yes, because it could be important.”
“Because although he may not necessarily be up to something devious, there’s a chance that he might be.”
“Right.”
“But if he is up to something illegal, shouldn’t he be afraid of you, since you know he isn’t who he says he is?”
Adam shrugged. He still had his hand on her, and she stood very still, not wanting to feel the electric waves of energy that emanated from him and swirled distractedly around her.
“James Jay Astin is a very wealthy man, always being pursued in the world of business. Naturally such a man might want to escape to a private getaway. And Seafire Isle is advertised as a very private getaway.”
She thought that, if nothing else, he was offering her sound logic. Either that, or the feel of his hand on her was making her want to believe anything he said. Anything.
It was time to escape with dignity.
She tugged free from his hold and headed to her bedroom, where she dressed quickly in a sky blue tank-style swim suit, terry shorts and a matching shirt, and her deck shoes. She came to the kitchen to find both men waiting for her.
“Breakfast?” Jem suggested with a hopeful smile.
She stared at him tight-lipped, refusing to reply. She started out of the cottage, and the two men followed behind her. She walked quickly, as if hoping she could shake them.
Silly thought. They were on an island. There really was no escape.
The others were all gathered in the dining room of the main lodge. Except for Mr. James Jay Astin Avery Smith—who was reading a magazine while he sipped his coffee, dressed in Dockers and a denim shirt—everyone appeared to be ready to go diving. Even Jerry North was wearing terry cover-ups over her bathing suit, or so it appeared.
“You’re diving?” Sam asked her, surprised.
“I’m going to bubble watch,” Jerry said, smiling wanly.
She looked tired, Sam thought. “Jem will like the company on the boat.”
Jerry nodded. “I hope so.”
Sam moved to the buffet table, helping herself to coffee and a corn muffin. She heard a commotion, then saw that Brian had apparently escaped Yancy’s care in the kitchen and was crawling out to the breakfast area as fast as his little hands and knees would take him. He paused right by her leg, looking at her with his broad, toothless smile. She stooped down and scooped him up, laughing, giving him a hug.
“You want my muffin, huh, kid?” She laughed, nuzzling his little neck. She loved the clean, baby-powder-sweet smell of him, loved the way his huge blue eyes stared so trustingly into hers. He reached out a hand toward the buffet table. Sam broke off a piece of her muffin, offering it to him just as Yancy made it over to her.
“I set the little rascal down beside his high chair for a whole two seconds before he was gone!” Yancy said.
“He just wants to go diving with us, Yancy!” Brad said.
“Well, he’ll have to wait a few years for that, I’m afraid,” Yancy said. She seemed uneasy, determined to get the baby back speedily. “Here, Sammy, I’ll take him. You eat so you can get your party started.” Yancy lowered her voice. “I need to talk to you.”
Sam arched a brow to her.
“In the pantry, for just a minute, when you get the chance.”
As Sam gave up the baby, she turned slightly. Adam was standing about five feet away from her. Dead still. Had he heard what Yancy had said to her? Did he intend to be in the kitchen, listening to whatever Yancy had to say, as well?
Then she realized that Adam wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the baby. Hard. As if he was witnessing some kind of unexplained phenomenon. He was very pale. No, he was actually more a soft shade of green.
“Adam?”
He seemed to give himself a shake. Then he turned away from her, pouring himself a cup of coffee. His hands were shaking slightly.
She walked up behind him. “I know, the baby isn’t really a baby. He’s a multimillionaire collector of ancient documents, and he’s here—”
He swung on her. She was startled by the violence in him and started to back away. His fingers settled around her elbow like steel grips. “I’m wondering where the hell you’d be right now if that visitor of yours the other night had managed to snap that cloth over your face a few minutes earlier.”
“Would you let go of me? You’re making a scene!”
“How old is that baby?”
“He’s six months. Jesus, let me go! You’re about to break my arm.”
His mouth worked as if he was about to say something. Then he released her arm as if it had suddenly caught fire and turned away from her, walking across the room to enter into conversation with Jim Santino and Sukee.
Sam hurried into the pantry, where Yancy was waiting for her.
“Someone was in the house last night,” Yancy said.
“What?”
“I heard someone in your father’s office.”
“Adam?”
Yancy shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, God, Yancy, I should have called the police when this first started.”
“No, no, Sam. I was never in danger. No one came near me or the baby. I wouldn’t even have known except that Brian woke up, crying for a bottle. While I was feeding him, I heard someone downstairs. Then I looked out and saw someone leaving the house. Sam, if you’d called the police, it wouldn’t have done anything. Adam is right. Unless you want to just close the island and give up the business, we’ve got to figure out what’s going on ourselves.”
“But if anything happened to the baby…”
“The baby is with me! No one is threatening him in any way. I wasn’t threatened. I don’t know anything at all about the damned Beldona. I’m a barely competent diver. No one is going to give a damn about me. You’re the one in trouble here, Sam, and I’m scared for you. You’ve got to be careful. Really careful.”
“I will be. But I don’t want you and the baby to be alone—”
“Jacques was in the house. If I had really been afraid, I would have called him.”
“He was probably snoring through the whole thing,” Sam said. Jacques was a wonderful chef, but he was also a cheerful man with tunnel vision. He would have been dreaming of the next day’s soufflé while the house caved down around him.
“I’m certain I’ll be okay,” Yancy said.
“We can’t be certain of anything. I don’t want you to be so alone.”
“Matthew will be over for the weekend tomorrow night. He can take the room next to mine.”
“That will be better. For tonight—”
“We can figure out tonight when you get back. This is what’s scaring me—don’t you even think about diving alone anywhere,” she said passionately. “Don’t you be alone under the water—not for a minute, not for a second!”
“She won’t be,” a deep, angry voice suddenly assured them both.
Sam swung around. Adam. He’d followed her. Come up behind her, and heard every word. And he still seemed angry.
She gritted her teeth, folding her arms over her chest. “Imagine! He’s been back a day and already he’s taking charge. I don’t think he can do that, do you, Yancy?”
Yancy glanced over Sam’s shoulder to Adam. “Yes, Sammy, I do. I think you have to listen to him.”
“Really? Well, you know, Yancy, he’s working for some private concern. Why should I trust him more than anyone else?”
“Sam, he was a cop—”
“Not anymore.”
“Sam—”
“Thanks for the warning, Yancy. I have a dive party to take out,” Sam said. She turned and started walking past Adam, but she should have known it wasn’t going to happen. He took a step, which brought hi
m in front of her. His hands bit into her shoulders. “You can be as much of a bitch as you want, but I owe it to your father not to let anything happen to you, and I’m not going to.”
“Really? If you owe my father, it took you one hell of a long time to decide to pay the debt!”
“I explained to you what happened!”
“Well, it wasn’t good enough!” she whispered, furious at realizing that she was close to tears. “It just wasn’t good enough!”
She pushed her way past him, determined to regain control as she returned to the living room. She poured herself another cup of coffee and spoke loudly to everyone in the room.
“I’m heading down to the Sloop Bee. We’ll try to cast off in twenty minutes, for those of you who are coming along.”
She started down the path from the house to the docks, then realized that Adam was following right behind her. She stopped, letting him catch up. “This isn’t going to work.”
“What?”
“You being there every time I try to breathe.”
“Well, just what are you going to do, then?” he demanded.
She opened her mouth to answer him, then realized that she really was in some kind of danger and that she might be jeopardizing her livelihood and her life—not to mention the lives of Jem, Yancy, Jacques, Brian and even others—if she didn’t try to discover what was going on without having to close down the island. She hated it, but he was her best bet.
“You’re a bastard, and I really hate you, you know that?” she said to him.
“So you informed me the day you asked me to leave.”
“I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Well, you know what? You’re still a little brat.”
“Am I? I thought I was a bitch.”
“You’re a woman of many moods, Miss Carlyle.”
She wanted to hit him. Nearly five years since she had seen him! she told herself desperately. She shouldn’t still be so furious. So hurt.
She’d been so damned naive! When she’d first seen him, she’d thought he was wonderful. So tall, so handsome and so at home in the water. A noble type of guy. His dad had been a cop; he’d wanted to be a cop. His skill in the water had allowed him to be a different kind of cop. He’d almost instantly formed a bond of friendship with her father.
And he’d been so determined to keep his distance from her, to be a professional.
It didn’t help any to know now, to admit to herself, that she’d been determined to seduce him. Determined that if she could get him, she could hold him. She’d never wanted anything with such blind, reckless desire. She’d plotted, planned, been bold, argumentative, mocking.
She’d done her best to torment him. She’d fought with him. If he was interested in a sunken ship, she mocked his knowledge of it. He argued that divers were basically safe against shark attack; she recited incidents of sharks attacking divers. He argued back.
She brushed against him every time she passed him.
She wore his patience down. She wore his resistance down, as well.
She challenged him in the water, and he met her every challenge. His smile, his laughter, captured her heart.
But whether they fought or found common ground, he’d talked to her. By the fireside at night, he’d talked to her about his job, about the bad guys who led kids astray, about the kids in the ghettos who somehow had a sense of right and wrong no matter what ugliness they saw in their lives. He’d come undercover, but, like her father, she’d been informed right away who he was. She was a nice adornment for the role he was playing, though. Naturally his nobility had extended to his determination to protect her, but then, his drug smugglers weren’t hardened criminals, just rather stupid ones.
He’d had an aura of danger, of excitement, that had been irresistible to her. And they’d had lots of time together. Time beneath the sun, sailing on the Sloop Bee. By the fire.
In bed.
Talking, laughing, arguing.
Making love.
How many times, she wondered, in that span of a few months? Thirty? Forty? Fifty? Enough to remember so clearly that she couldn’t forget now, even when she prayed to.
The last thing she wanted to do was remember being with him while she was standing there on the pathway being told that she was a brat and a bitch.
“Fine!” she snapped, staring at him, her hands clenched into fists at her side. “Follow me from here to Kingdom Come if that’s what you want, but I warn you, stay the hell out of my way.”
He didn’t reply, so she started walking again. He followed.
She leaped aboard the Sloop Bee. The day seemed exceptionally hot. The sun was already shimmering down, so she stripped off her shirt and shorts and mechanically began to check their supplies, though Jem was so efficient that it was scarcely necessary. The air cylinders had all been filled and stored in their slots; the ice chest had been loaded with sodas and water and a few beers and wine coolers for the drinkers on the way back in. There was absolutely no drinking on the way to the dive sites.
The Sloop Bee was forty-two feet long and carried twenty divers and their supplies comfortably, two cylinders per diver for plenty of air for two dives per trip. She ignored Adam while she continued to check the supplies. She went on ignoring him as she sat down to draw up her dive plan, painfully aware that he was still watching her, tension drawing his face taut.
“My turn,” he said suddenly.
She looked up, almost jumping when she found him hunched down in front of her, a finger sternly planted beneath her nose. He, too, had stripped off his shirt. The muscles of his chest were already glistening from the warmth of the sun. His features were tense, eyes hard and bright, voice harsh as he spoke. “You made up your mind about things, told me what I was thinking and feeling. You had it all decided, and you weren’t willing to listen to a word I said. Say what you want now—you acted like a wretched little brat back then. Maybe I didn’t respond well, but you insisted I get off your island, and I did it. I was probably an idiot to let you act like a queen to begin with, but I won’t make that mistake again, so you get this. We have a situation here. Your father was almost certainly murdered. Hank Jennings, as well. You can ignore those facts if you want to—but I can’t.
“So you get this straight—accept the fact that I’m here for the duration, and don’t you dare get your little butt in my way!”
“Why, you—” She stared.
“And who the hell does that baby belong to?”
“What?”
“Whose baby is it?”
“What business is it—”
“Whose is it?”
He was so insistent that she found herself answering him when she longed to slap him. “Brian is Yancy’s baby, obviously.”
“Obviously? Yancy is black, and that baby is white. And he—”
“He what?”
“Who does that baby belong to?”
“Take another look. Yancy’s heritage is mixed. Brian is her son.”
“Is that what you’re hoping people will believe?”
She eased back, incredulous. “Yancy is the color of café au lait. She—”
“Yancy is beautiful,” he said impatiently. “That isn’t the point.”
“Then what is?”
“Sam, tell me! Who is that baby’s father?”
“Well, let’s see—you’re definitely not. Since you’re insinuating that the child is mine and we haven’t had relations in almost five years. Wow. Long pregnancy.”
She was amazed to see the depths of his anger. But it wasn’t her place to share what had gone on with anyone else.
“Who does that baby belong to?” he demanded again.
She stared hard at him. “Yancy.”
“Let’s try again. Who is that baby’s father?”
“You can try from now until hell freezes over. What you’re asking is none of your concern.” His fingers suddenly closed over her knees. His eyes were hot and level with hers. “Damn you, Sam, you’re
going to tell me.”
“Damn you, Adam. I’m not.”
She looked over his shoulder. The others were coming down the path toward the Sloop Bee.
“People are coming, right?” he said.
She felt his hands on her bare knees. Her heart hammered furiously, and blood was rushing to her cheeks.
She wanted so badly to lash out at him. Instead she tried to rise. She bumped against him, felt his breath against her bare thighs, felt something wickedly hot within her begin to burn. Why didn’t arguing with him cool the fever inside her instead of making it worse?
“Excuse me,” she muttered.
He set his hands on her waist. To keep her balance, she was forced to clutch his shoulders.
His eyes met hers, and she couldn’t seem to draw her gaze away from him. She was still furious, yet she suddenly wanted in the worst way to know just what had happened, how the hell they had messed everything.
He shook his head, steadying her as he rose. Aware that the others were nearly upon them, he lowered his lips to her ear. “Damn it, Sam, I swear to God, you are going to give me answers.”
She pulled back, freeing herself from his hold before she replied. “The hell I will!” she promised vehemently, sweeping by him. And then she added for good measure, “The absolute hell I will!”
9
J erry North, exquisite, blond and beautiful, was the first to reach the Sloop Bee, arriving just as Sam escaped Adam.
“Jerry, come on board and give me a hand,” Sam called cheerfully.
“Of course!” Jerry said.
Jerry was wearing dark glasses, and Sam couldn’t see her eyes. The woman was smiling, but it seemed tense, as if she wanted to be just about anywhere rather than where she was.
“You’re not afraid of boats, are you, or of being out on the water?” Sam asked, concerned.
“Bless you, no,” Jerry said. “But thanks for asking. You’re a dear.”
“I just don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy. I’m thrilled. Just thrilled.”
But she was unhappy, Sam was certain of it. Liam hopped on board just behind her, and Sam thought that Jerry jumped a mile high when Liam set his arms on her shoulders.
“I can’t wait to see these Steps,” Liam said enthusiastically.
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