"What?" He crossed to the archway but stayed there, giving her the distance she seemed to need.
"I got along with my grandfather okay, but my grandmother resented having to raise me and made no attempt to hide the fact. My leaving for a few months every year gave both of us a break. Plus ... Dad wasn't very good at taking care of himself. I worried constantly about what would happen if I wasn't there to make sure he didn't drink too much, that he paid whatever loan sharks were on his tail, and that he didn't spend all his money on drugs."
"Drugs?"
"Yeah." She sighed. "That was my biggest fear. That if I wasn't around, he'd go back to smuggling cocaine like we did when I was really little. He always put half of it up his own nose, which was why he was always in debt."
Adrian stared back at her in disbelief. "He smuggled cocaine while he had a child with him?"
"I can remember hiding in the cockpit of the stealth speedboat he used to own, having to be really quiet. He told me we were playing hide-and-seek, and if the Coast Guard caught us, we'd be 'it'."
"Jesus Christ! Your father should be shot."
"He was."
"What?"
She looked at him. "That's how he died. He was murdered."
"Oh God, Jackie, I'm sorry." He started toward her, but stopped when she stiffened. "How did it happen?"
"The last con he ran, I'd finally had enough." She sank to the old-fashioned divan and rubbed her forehead. "I can't believe I'm telling you all this."
He hesitated a moment, then took a seat beside her. "Maybe you need to talk about it."
"Maybe I do." She looked so exhausted, his heart ached. "I loved my father, I worried about him, and I wanted to watch out for him, but I couldn't take it anymore. The mark's name was Roger Gates, a schoolteacher from Chicago who was so gullible and eager to believe, he gave my father everything: the money he'd inherited from his parents, his retirement fund. He even took out a mortgage loan on his house. The problem was, he kept wanting to go with my dad, not just send money and wait for reports. Dad asked Ti and me to go along and help keep the illusion of a real search going, but we told him he was insane. No way could he pull that off for long."
"You already knew Ti?"
She nodded. "He used to crew for my father and was pretty wild in the early days. He grew a conscience, though, and Dad never did. So Ti and I got jobs crewing for a cruise line on a really beautiful clipper ship." She actually smiled."The work was hard, but I loved it, and I learned a lot about running a legitimate business. That was when I started dreaming about doing something with the Pirate's Pleasure, other than keep it in a slip as a very expensive toy for my dad."
"How long did you work for the cruise line?"
"Two years." Her smile vanished. "Ti and I were out in the middle of the Caribbean Sea when my dad was killed. I didn't even hear about it until ... he'd been gone a week."
He watched as tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. "How did it happen?"
"According to the testimony at the trial, Roger realized he was being had. He and Dad got into a shouting match out on the boat. Roger pulled a gun and shot Dad point-blank in the chest." She dropped her head into her hands. "The worst part is, I can't stop wondering ... if I'd been there, maybe I could have done something to defuse the situation. Maybe my father would still be alive."
Or maybe you'd be dead, too. The shock of that thought joined empathy as he remembered the devastating pain of losing his own parents. Unable to withhold some small measure of comfort, he put his hand on her back and rubbed in small circles.
Finally, she straightened, her face stoic. "In the end, Roger went to prison for murder, and I've never figured out how to feel about that. Yes, he killed my dad, but my dad destroyed his life."
"I scattered Dad's ashes in the Caribbean, knowing that's where he'd want to be, then returned to work aboard the Sea Star. Unfortunately, the other sailors had heard about my father and either knew or guessed I was a crook, too. They let me know I was no better than a bottom feeder to them. You don't realize how small a ship is until every hand on board shuns you. At the captain's suggestion, I opted out of my contract. I thought about signing on with one of the windjammer ships, but knew the scandal would follow me. The sailing community in that area of the world is too tight to escape something that big.
"So I left the islands and came home to Texas. I was twenty years old and completely alone, since my grandparents had died a few years earlier. They'd named me as their heir, though, so I'd inherited their house as well as the Pirate's Pleasure.
"I called Ti to see if he'd consider working for me, then sold the house to start my own business, one that capitalized on people's love of old sailing ships and pirate lore without ripping them off." She shrugged. "I thought as long as I stayed clean, I'd be okay, but every year has been a struggle and I'm running out of savings. Then you came along and offered me this great deal. I knew when I accepted it that I was taking a big risk of resurrecting the past, but ..." Regret filled her eyes. "I'm really sorry about how it turned out. I honestly thought I had a chance to make it work."
"Who says it won't?"
"Adrian ..." She stared at him. "All those people heard what Carl said. They're not going to want to raise money for a project that will help me. And they'll have serious doubts about you and your family if we're all working together. I don't want any of you suffering guilt by association."
"Well, I appreciate your concern, and I'm sure the rest of the family will, too, but we're made of sterner stuff than that. If people want to whisper behind our backs, let 'em. It wouldn't be the first time the good people of Galveston have talked about those scandalous descendants of Marguerite Bouchard."
"This is not some little scandal. This could make you a pariah. Do you have a clue what that feels like?"
"Jackie, you're being overly dramatic."
"Am I?" She stood and moved away. "Unless you've been there, you don't know what it's like to have people mistrust you because you're connected to a known thief. And I'm not talking about just people you know personally. During the trial, the story was plastered all over the local news and I had to battle past the cameras to get to the courtroom. After my face appeared on TV, I couldn't walk down the street without people pointing at me.
"For the past eight years I've been looking over my shoulder, knowing someday the past could catch up to me." Her shoulders sagged. "I guess it finally did."
"What happened today doesn't have to change things." He stood as well. "Carl was vague enough that we can gloss over what he said."
"But what if the whole truth comes out? I can pick up and move my business elsewhere if I have to. Not easily, but it can be done. What will you do, though, if being associated with me ruins your reputation? Sell the inn?"
"Not hardly." He snorted. "You forget, our business relies on people coming here from out of town. Since nobody's going to broadcast the details of your past from coast to coast, who cares if a few people in Galveston raise their eyebrows at us? We've lived with scandal for generations. Something like this is not going to scare us off."
She looked at him a long time. "You actually mean that."
"I do. And my sisters will feel the same way."
"You'd actually go into business with me ..." Her control cracked a bit. "Knowing the things I've done?"
His whole chest softened as he watched her struggle for composure. "You mean, knowing you're responsible, hardworking, compassionate, and that you were more of a parent to your father than he was to you? Somehow, I don't have a real problem with that."
To his shock, the tears he'd expected when he'd knocked on the door filled her eyes in a rush and spilled down her cheeks. She wiped at them, looking horrified.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. She covered her face and let a single sob escape against his chest. Tightening his hold, he made a mental note: Being kind makes her cry.
With a deep breath, she had herself back under cont
rol, and pulled away. He let his arms drop, even though he longed to comfort her more. "W-what ---" She cleared her throat. "What will your sisters say when they find out?"
"I assure you, they will feel exactly as I do." Seeing the shimmer of more tears, he decided to lighten the moment. "Well, not exactly. I doubt my sisters lie awake at night trying to picture you naked."
Surprise flashed in her eyes, followed by a watery laugh. "You never let up, do you?"
"I've always heard persistence pays."
"Are you going to tell them?"
"That I try to picture you naked?"
"No. All that stuff I just told you."
"That depends." He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. "Do you want me to?"
Her breath released in a heavy sigh. "I'd rather they know as little as possible. I'm not sure I could look them in the eye, much less work with them, if they knew everything."
"I promise you, it wouldn't be a problem for them, but if it makes you more comfortable, then they don't need to know the details."
She nodded, looking wrung out.
"So ---" He turned businesslike. "Since we have to wait for Carl Ryder to authenticate your letter, why don't you make yourself at home, read the diaries, and pretend to be on vacation for the next few days?"
Gratitude softened her face. "That's the best idea I've heard in years."
"All right, then." He nodded and headed for the door. "I'll get out of your hair."
"Adrian," she called. When he turned, she smiled and his chest tightened at the sight of her standing there looking so vulnerable. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Chapter 10
When breakfast wound down the next morning, Adrian went into the dining room where Allison and Rory were cleaning up the carnage left by an inn full of guests."Did Jackie ever come down?"
"Not yet," Alli answered, stacking dirty dishes. "I don't think she's been out of her room since the meeting yesterday. But surely she'll come out for meals."
"She hasn't so far," Rory said as she lifted trays from the warming stands on the sideboard. "Should we send something up to her?"
"I noticed some fruit and granola bars missing from the basket upstairs," Adrian said. "So at least she's eating."
"Still," Allison said, "it can't be good for her to stay in her room so long."
"Maybe she's just really engrossed in reading the diaries," Rory offered.
"Maybe." Alli chewed her lip, looking at the ceiling as if she could see into Jackie's room. "Adrian, you did tell her we don't care about those things Mr. Ryder said, right?"
"Well, I care!" Rory said.
"You do?" Adrian frowned at her.
"Of course I do." Rory banged a metal serving spoon against a tray as she scraped all the leftovers into one pan. "The whole thing makes me furious."
"At Jackie?"
"No. At that archeologist for embarrassing her. And her father, if what Mr. Ryder said is true. And I don't know ... life." Rory let her breath out in a passionate rush. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't get so upset, it's just that we were so lucky, I wish everyone could have a childhood like ours."
"Rory ..." Alli stared at her. "We lost our parents in a car wreck when you were still a toddler. How is that a wonderful childhood?"
"We had each other," Rory insisted. "No matter what happened when I was growing up, I always knew y'all would be there for me. You're still here for me. And now I have Chance and Lauren, and you brought Scott into the family, so it's even better. We just need to find someone for Adrian." She winked at him. "Unless he's already done that."
A jolt went through him at her words. "Rory, whoa. Do not get ideas about me and Jackie. I told you yesterday, there is nothing going on between us. And even if there were, she's not at all what I have in mind for long term."
"Why not?"
"I don't know." His nerves jumping, he went to help Allison clear the table. "I guess if I had to describe what I want for a wife ---when I'm ready to make that leap ---I'd say someone who's a little more of a homebody. Jackie couldn't be more opposite from that."
"That doesn't seem to stop you from giving her that I-want-this-woman look." Rory wiggled her brows.
"Looking and wanting are not the same as signing up for the extended maintenance plan."
"Oh, so you just want to take her for a test-drive?"
"I did not say that." He turned to Allison. "Did I say that?"
"Well, no," Alli said. "But isn't that what dating is?"
"I guess," Rory conceded. "It's just that I like Jackie."
"I like her, too," Adrian said. "But even if she were what I had in mind for a wife, I am a long way from being ready to settle down, so taking a test-drive with someone we're hoping to do business with would be a really stupid idea."
"What do you mean, not ready to settle down?" Rory stared at him. "You just passed the big three-oh, brother. How long do you plan to wait before you start a family?"
"Come on, brat, I just got you two raised. Has it occurred to you I might like a little time on my own before I tie myself down with a second family?"
"Excuse me?" Emotions paraded across his little sister's face, going from disbelief to hurt. "Well, gee, I'm sorry. I didn't realize we were such a burden to you."
Oh, hell. He glanced at Alli and saw the same wounded look. "You weren't, and you know it. It's just, I'd like to ... I don't know, not worry about anyone but me for a little while. And truthfully, I don't think Jackie is any more interested in marriage and kids right now than I am. So, no matchmaking, okay? All it will do is create a really awkward situation for everyone concerned."
"Oh, all right," Rory groused, and he would have breathed a sigh of relief if she hadn't smiled. "Although you're wrong about Jackie not wanting kids. Or haven't you noticed the way she looks at Lauren?"
"What?" He blinked.
"Rory's right," Allison said. "I noticed it, too."
"Give me a break." He laughed nervously. "Alli, you've told me yourself, not all women want to be mommies."
"Maybe not," Alli said. "But Jackie does."
Before he could even think of an appropriate response to that, he heard the sound of someone coming down the stairs. He turned just as Jackie appeared in the doorway wearing a white shirt tucked into worn-out jeans that had a split at one knee. From the swell of her breasts, he knew she'd left off the sports bra in exchange for something more feminine ---but what? Plain cotton? Satin and lace?
His libido did a slow spin as he contemplated the possibilities.
She stopped abruptly when she noticed his scrutiny. "What?"
"Nothing." He shook his head to clear his brain.
"Good morning," Rory said brightly, glancing between him and Jackie. "We were wondering when you'd come down."
"Did you sleep well?" Alli asked.
"A little too well, I guess." Jackie sighed. She'd finger-combed her damp hair straight back, accentuating her exotic features. "It looks like I slept through breakfast."
"Not a problem," he assured her. "I can fix whatever you want. Eggs, bacon, French toast?"
"Just a pastry and some coffee will be fine." She rubbed her stomach and he realized she did that a lot.
"Here you go." Rory grabbed a cup and filled it from the silver coffee urn. "Do you take anything in it?"
"No, just black."
Adrian checked the wicker basket of pastries that sat in the middle of the table. "Try one of the bran muffins. It'll soften the blow of that caffeine."
"Thanks." She accepted the coffee cup from Rory and took a sip but made no move toward the table.
Rory nudged Allison and nodded toward the door. "We'll be in the kitchen if you two need anything."
He stifled a groan as they bustled out with their arms full of dishes. So much for Rory not playing matchmaker. Someday his baby sister needed to learn she couldn't order the universe around with the sheer force of her will. Wanting something, even wanting it badly, didn
't automatically make it happen.
"So," he said to Jackie as he continued clearing the table, "do you have any plans for today? Other than reading the diaries?"
"Actually" ---she stepped closer to him to check out the pastries and he caught the scent of some tropical shampoo that made him wonder how she'd look in a bikini sunning herself on a white sand beach ---"I was thinking I should go see the ship before everything goes to hell and I have to leave."
"What?" He shoved aside a fantasy of tumbling naked with Jackie in the surf to concentrate on her words. "First of all, everything's going to work out fine. And second, even if it doesn't, you're free to dive around the ship anytime you want."
"I appreciate that, but I've learned to not count on people's hospitality lasting beyond the moment."
"Not a bad philosophy ... for a pessimist."
"A realist." Her lips curled up in a sexy smile and his heart rate kicked up a notch.
"Well ..." He glanced out the window where morning sunlight streamed through branches of the trees. "If you're planning to dive, looks like you picked a good day for it. Not that the air temperature will make a difference sixty feet underwater."
"True."
"Let me know what time you want to go, and I'll go with you."
"Still trying to get me alone on the beach?"
"That depends. Will you be diving in a bikini or a wet suit?"
"A bikini in November?"
"Hey, I'll be happy to keep you warm."
"That's okay. You don't need to bother."
"Well, you're not going alone."
"Why not?" Her brows came together. "I'm experienced enough to manage a dive this time by myself."
"Sorry, house rules. No one dives without a buddy."
She rolled her eyes. "If you insist. Can you be ready by ten o'clock?"
"Absolutely. Now, have a bran muffin." He pushed the basket toward her.
She looked over the selection and grabbed a chocolate croissant.
"You know," he said, "chocolate is as bad for your stomach as coffee."
She gave him a cocky look. "Didn't anyone ever tell you: never get between a woman and her chocolate?"
Don't Tempt Me Page 8
