by Janet Dailey
"Take a bite of everything," the man who was evidently her husband suggested. "Here," he added, reaching for the small bag of clams between their plates, "I'll shuck you a clam."
"That's wrong, Henry," Justin spoke up as Gina helped him set the lobster plates on the table. "A Maine-iac shucks corn, but he 'shocks' clams!"
A discussion followed of other unusual expressions indigenous to the state. Stories were traded between the couple and Justin of humorous incidents they had heard or experienced themselves. Neither Gina nor Rhyder took part.
Once, when Justin was explaining how a term had originated, she had felt Rhyder's gaze touch her. She couldn't help wondering if he was remembering the time she had instructed Pete on the origins of various phrases.
"What about the expression 'happy as a clam'?" The woman frowned.
"Now that one I don't know," Justin admitted.
"Maybe Gina does," Rhyder stated. "She's from down east."
In the middle of breaking a lobster claw, Gina glanced up, momentarily startled by the sound of her name on his lips. The mocking, faintly satirical light in his eyes said he remembered.
"Do you?" the woman prompted.
"'Happy as a clam' is a shortened version," Gina recovered swiftly to explain. "The whole expression is 'happy as a clam at high tide,' for the obvious reason that no one goes digging for clams at high tide."
The trio laughed appreciatively at the droll humor behind the thought. "Down east?" The man called Henry repeated the phrase Rhyder had used. "I always get confused about that. It has something to do with the wind, I know, but would you mind explaining it again?"
"The prevailing wind along the coast of Maine is from the south west. In the days of the clipper ships and other sailing vessels, a ship that left the Boston harbor for some point in Maine would sail 'downwind' in an easterly direction or 'down east.' It's a bit confusing, but anytime you're travelling up the coast of Maine, you're said to be going 'down east,'" Gina concluded.
"That's fascinating, isn't it?" the woman declared. "I remember when we were in…" and the conversation shifted to places they had traveled.
Again Gina didn't take part in the discussion, nor did Rhyder. Several times she felt the discomforting touch of his gaze. The food began to lodge between her throat and her stomach as her tension heightened, but she kept forcing more down, refusing to let him see that his presence had destroyed her appetite.
Her long silence came to Justin's attention and he leaned near her ear. "You're withdrawing again," he whispered.
Gina shook her head, quickly denying it. "I'm eating."
Justin's face was very near hers. Gina knew she had to turn her head only slightly to invite his kiss, but she was too conscious of Rhyder's watching eyes. The other couple rose from the table to refill their plates.
"You've picked your lobster clean," Justin observed after a few seconds. "I'll get you another."
"No. Really, I—" But her protest was wasted as Justin left the table.
"Does he always wait on you?" Rhyder asked dryly.
"Justin is a considerate host." Avoiding his gaze, Gina picked up a clam and made a project out of shocking it.
"Of course," he said with faint derision. Several seconds ticked away in taut silence, then Rhyder began," Your grandfather—"
"—is dead," she interrupted harshly.
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not." The flash of her stormy green eyes challenged him to deny it.
There was an arrogant lift of a dark brow before he conceded. "You may be right. Excuse me." And he rose from the table.
Strangely, Gina didn't feel any relief when he didn't return, but drifted among the other guests, some still eating, some replete and leaning back to chat. Eventually he was one of the first guests to leave, but the ghost of his presence remained to haunt her.
It was late in the evening when the last of the guests left and Justin was free to take her home. She sat silently in the passenger seat, staring into the night as he drove her to her apartment in the city.
"It was a good party, wasn't it?" he commented finally to break the silence.
"Yes it was," she agreed absently. "Did Rhyder Owens ask any questions about me?" Immediately after the question was out, Gina could have bitten off her tongue for bringing up his name when she had wanted only to forget.
"No." His brown gaze left the highway to glance at her. "You two know each other, don't you?"
Gina hesitated, then decided on the truth. "I met him a long time ago."
"And?" Justin prompted.
"And nothing." She couldn't tell him the rest, not yet.
"How long ago was it?" he persisted, sensing there was more to be told.
"Nine years," She answered shortly.
"You were what? Sixteen?" Gina nodded curtly to the question when Justin glanced at her. "If you remember him after that length of time, he must have been more than a stranger in the crowd. Is he an old flame?"
"Hardly," she denied.
"After nine years, what do you think of him now?"
"That he's still arrogant and self-centered. Let's talk about something more pleasant," she suggested.
Justin complied, a satisfied half-smile curving his mouth. He talked about the clambake in generalities for the rest of the ride, not once referring to Rhyder in even the most casual way. In front of her apartment he stopped the car, switching off the motor, and turned in his seat.
"Now that we've gotten the small talk out of the way, let's discuss the moon and the stars and—" he reached out to draw her gently toward him "—the beautiful woman in my arms."
With inner reluctance, Gina allowed herself to be curved against his side. "But there isn't any moon," she pointed out.
"We'll pretend," Justin murmured as he lowered his head toward hers.
His kiss was both commanding and tender. Gina's reponse was falsely ardent. The strong circle of his arms did not generate the warm feeling it usually aroused. She blamed herself for his failure to kindle her desire.
The mental barrier was being erected again to make her indifferent to a man's caress. It was a defense mechanism to protect her inner core of passion.
When the embrace reached the stage where it had to grow or die, Gina ended it. His arms tightened in protest to her withdrawal, but she pressed her hands firmly against his chest, wedging a distance between them. Sighing grimly, Justin released her and she smiled an apology.
"Unless you've changed the time of our nine o'clock meeting in the morning," she said gently, "I'm going to have to be up early in order to get to my office and look over the proposals again before meeting you. Which means I need some sleep tonight."
"I don't suppose you're going to invite me in for coffee, are you?" He eyed her ruefully.
"No," she refused with a wide smile.
"Why?" Although lightly asked, the question wanted a serious answer.
"Because if I asked you in for coffee, you would interpret the invitation to mean something entirely different and accept without coffee in mind."
Justin laughed softly at the accuracy of her observation, then studied her quietly for a second. "Are you just playing hard to get with me?"
"I am hard to get." The line of her mouth curved into a smile to take the edge off her words.
"Somebody must have hurt you very badly once." His brown eyes darkened curiously at her startled glance. "I guessed it some months ago. Which probably explains why I've been more patient with you than it's my nature to be. Don't worry," he added as a closed expression stole over her features, "I won't ask you to tell me about him as long as you don't question me about the women I've known before you."
"That's a deal." Gina leaned over and lightly brushed a kiss on his lips. "Good night, Justin. And thank you." There was a magnitude of meaning in the last.
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Chapter Six
THE THREE-PIECE BLACK SUIT, consisting of a skirt, waistcoat and jacket, was very mascu
line in its design, but the ruffled jabot of her white blouse was distinctly feminine. The overall effect was crisply professional while it pointed out the raven sheen of her hair and the contrasting ocean green of her eyes.
With a smooth leather briefcase in her hand, Gina breezed into Justin's outer office. His secretary glanced up from her typewriter and smiled a greeting.
"Mr. Trent is expecting you. You may go right in, Miss Gaynes." The woman nodded toward the inner office door.
"Thank you." Not bothering to knock, Gina opened the door and walked into the plush, executive-designed office.
"Here's my learned attorney now," Justin declared, rising from the chair behind his desk to greet Gina. "She's the secret to my success. Everyone forgets the terms they were negotiating when they deal with her, Mr. Arneson."
The coolly businesslike smile had frozen on Gina's face as she was impaled on the rapier thrust of a pair of steel blue eyes. Seated in a leather, wing backed chair in front of the massive walnut desk was Rhyder. A movement near him finally attracted her stunned gaze.
A third man had been occupying the leather chair matching Rhyder's. The motion that had distracted her had been this man rising almost hypnotically to his feet at the sight of her.
Sandy hair was receding to lengthen his forehead. Dark-rimmed glasses nearly hid his hazel eyes. The years had matured the features of the boyish face inclined to freckles, but Gina recognized Pete instantly.
His recognition of her was slower, as if he were unable to believe it was possible. He glanced at Rhyder's hardening look for confirmation.
Gina recovered first, walking forward to extend a hand to an astonished Pete. "Hello, Mr. Arneson."
"It is you, Gina," he breathed. Disbelieving wonder gleamed through the lenses of his glasses as he held her hand for a long moment without shaking it. Abruptly his mind registered the formal way she had addressed him, coolly and politely. "I'm sorry, I…I should have said Mrs.
O—"
"Miss Gaynes," she supplied instantly, a husky tremor of nerves in her voice.
"Oh!" His sandy head jerked slightly. "You had it legally changed back after—"
"Yes, that's right," Gina interrupted a second time, and withdrew her hand from Pete's, paling at the darkening frown on Justin's handsome face.
"I think I missed something here." Irritation blocked Justin's attempt to make it a laughing declaration.
"It's—" Gina began, but this time she was the one interrupted by Rhyder.
"Gina has unfortunately chosen to keep secret from you, Justin, the fact that she's my wife." Sardonic amusement glittered in the startling blue of his eyes as he met the killing look she threw him.
"Ex-wife," she corrected sharply.
"You were married to him?" Justin's eyes narrowed at Gina. His surprise was equally divided between the fact that she had been married and that Rhyder had been her husband.
Feeling like the accused, Gina stood before the walnut desk, stiffly erect to conceal the inner trembling. Her heart was beating against her ribs like a trapped animal wanting to break free.
Pete was standing to the side, shifting uncomfortably at the situation his astonished words had precipitated. Justin was plainly confused and slightly angered. Only Rhyder seemed to be under his own control as he sat in his chair, relaxed and insouciant.
"I have no idea why Gina changed her name or why she failed to tell you of our marriage," Rhyder said. "Unless, perhaps, she was ashamed of her actions during the brief time we were together."
"I was not!" Gina pivoted to face him, nearly choking on her erupting temper. "I wanted no reminder of our unpleasant association, so I changed back to my maiden name and wiped all trace of you from my life."
"Not quite all," Justin said dryly, his gaze sliding to her wedding band.
Her cheeks crimsoned. "It's my grandmother's wedding ring." But she knew and Rhyder knew that he had been the one to slip it on her finger.
"I wish you'd told me all this yesterday," Justin emitted grudgingly, as if unwilling to admit as much in front of the other two men.
"I had hopes of never seeing him again after yesterday," Gina replied stiffly. "I never expected to walk into your office this morning and see him sitting…" The legal proposals in her briefcase seemed to burn through the leather to scorch her fingers. The turbulent green of her gaze slashed to Rhyder as the significance of his presence registered in her mind. "I presume you are the president of Caufield Enterprises?"
"That's correct," Rhyder nodded with cool mocking arrogance. "Pete is my attorney and he'll be advising me during our negotiations for the resort property that Justin has indicated a willingness to sell."
Her grasp tightened on the briefcase. She turned to Justin with every intention of telling him that he would have to find someone else to represent him. The negotiations would quite likely be lengthy because of the difference between the asking price and the offered price and some complex legal entanglements of the property.
Gina did not want to spend the amount of time required to arrive at a satisfactory compromise, since the time would be spent in Rhyder's company. But before she could advise Justin of her decision, Rhyder spoke up.
"I think it would be best if we postponed our meeting for a few days, Justin." He rose leisurely to his feet, his gaze glittering briefly on Gina as he stood beside her, towering and masculine, completely in control of his emotions. "I'm certain Gina is as reluctant as I am to sit on opposite sides of a negotiation table. Considering our past association, it will be difficult to be impartial or objective in the discussions needed to reach the various compromises. I quite understand that Gina would prefer that you find another attorney in this matter. Naturally you'll need some time to bring him or her up to date on the various issues."
A raging fire seared through her veins. On the surface it sounded as if Rhyder was offering her an easy way out, but underneath she sensed that he was demanding that she be replaced. His mockery or his sarcasm she could have tolerated, but to be virtually ordered to resign under the guise of thoughtfulness was not something she would accept.
"You are mistaken, Mr. Owens." It sounded ludicrous to call him that, yet it seemed the only way to express the fullness of her anger. "I do not prefer to have Justin hire another attorney. I am much more qualified than anyone else since I am acquainted with you and your methods. I will be better able to protect my client's interest because of it."
Except for the slight darkening of his pupils to a midnight shade, there was no indication from Rhyder that he found her decision objectionable. Yet Gina was certain she had scored a hit. Setting her briefcase on a corner of the desk, she opened it and removed a legal-sized folder.
"I have drafted a land contract agreement to use as a starting point." Gina extracted three copies of the document from the folder and distributed one to each of the men. "It will be more constructive to deal first with the items we agree on."
As he was already familiar with much of the language contained in the proposal, since Gina had discussed it with him in some detail, Justin's perusal of the document was merely a formality. Pete read it with concentration, mentally testing every word and phrase.
With growing irritation, Gina watched Rhyder flip through the multi-page agreement, barely skimming the contents. He didn't even glance at the last page as he tossed it on Justin's desk.
"I find little in it that's agreeable," Rhyder stated flatly.
Counting to ten, Gina held her tongue. If he was attempting to bait her into losing her temper by placing an immediate obstacle in the discussions, she was determined he wouldn't succeed.
"I prefer to hear Pete's opinion," she responded with professional crispness.
There was a condescending, faintly derogatory nod of his jet-dark head. Seething inwardly, Gina ignored the gesture. With negligent ease, Rhyder sat in the chair he had just vacated, relaxing deeply against its winged back.
His hooded gaze made a slow and thorough inspection of her as she
waited for Pete to complete his examination of the proposal. Gina pretended to be unaware of Rhyder's eyes on her, but his unwavering gaze was stirring her nerves tautly.
"Excellently drawn," Pete concluded when he had finished reading her proposal. He beamed her a smile that twisted ruefully after a second. "Unfortunately, the language is biased in favor of your client rather than mine. In the points where we are in agreement, I'd like to recommend some changing in the wording."
"Naturally," Gina conceded. Small revisions were to be expected as well as large. She removed a fourth copy from the folder. "Where, specifically?"
As Pete started to turn a page in his copy, Rhyder straightened with undisguised impatience. "Pete and I will look over the proposal, make some notes, and get back to you in the next few days, Justin."
He was already walking toward the door by the time Pete assimilated the information that Rhyder had brought the meeting to an abrupt end. Self-consciously Pete glanced at Gina. The grim set of her lips no longer concealed her anger. Mumbling a goodbye, he picked up his briefcase, the proposal folded in his hand, and followed Rhyder's retreating back.
Silence descended with the closing of the door. Gina stared at it, wondering how she could have been so foolish as not to resign. It had been what she wanted and what Rhyder had wanted. Why had she sailed into the teeth of danger?
A faint movement behind her reminded her of Justin's presence in the room, and the explanations he would want. At the moment, she didn't want to give them.
Briskly she turned to the desk and stuffed her copy of the proposal into the folder to slip it into her briefcase. Justin watched, waiting silently. With a slight toss of her head, Gina looked at him and smiled distantly.
"The meeting didn't end on an auspicious note, but Rhyder wants the property or he wouldn't have come all this way." Her businesslike manner deliberately didn't encourage any personal questions. "Give me a call whenever he contacts you."
She turned to leave, but was halted by his low, demanding voice. "Gina."
"Yes, Justin?" She glanced over her shoulder, false curiosity in the arch of an eyebrow.
