Escapade

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.