Across the River of Yesterday (6 page)

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Serena’s voice was shaking slightly. Gideon’s intensity had been electrifying, blazing out at her, enveloping her. Her memory of him had always been of gentle, glowing tenderness, not this fiery sensuality. “It’s been too long. I’m not the same person.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “I know you’ve changed, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be good together. It might even be …” He stopped and then asked abruptly, “Do you still paint?”

“Occasionally,” she answered, surprised. “I don’t have much time these days.”

“You wanted to be an artist, yet you became a fashion designer.” His eyes were narrowed on her face. “Why?”

“It was necessary.” She shrugged. “I had a commercial talent that could be exploited. I’m very successful at what I do.”

“I know. I’m just curious why the daughter of Countess Mara de Lâncombe and the stepdaughter of one of the richest men in England felt the need to make such a compromise.” His gaze held her own and his lips curved in a bitter smile. “Your Italian husband had nothing to offer besides the title, from what I understand, but surely your mama and papa were willing to help.”

“You know a great deal about me.” Her gaze slid away from his.

“Not enough. That’s one of the reasons you’re here. Why didn’t you ask them for help?”

“That’s none of your business.” Her now defiant gaze returned to him. “It’s my life, and you have no part in it. Everyone has to make compromises. I just grew up.”

“I see.” There was a touch of sadness on his face. “You did it quite beautifully. I just wish I’d been around to watch you and help you out now and then. I would have liked that very much.”

That same poignant melting occurred within her again, even stronger now. Just when she thought her resentment of his actions had drowned any spark of softness, he said something like this. “Gideon, don’t— Let me go. None of this is going to do any good.”

“Well see. If not, it’s back to the foxholes.” He turned. “Eight o’clock. We’ll dress for dinner. Downstairs or here? It’s up to you.”

The door shut behind him.

At seven-thirty Serena took a last look in the mirror. If sophistication could intimidate Gideon, then the lounging pajamas she had chosen to wear tonight would accomplish her purpose. The violet trousers were so full they could easily be mistaken for an evening skirt, and the matching loose tunic top of silk suggested rather than outlined her curves. However, the square neckline was so low it barely covered the tips of her breasts and the silver scrolled trim that bordered the neckline blatantly called attention to their swelling fullness. She had worn the outfit only once before, to a press party introducing her spring line, and brought it with her only because she might need its glittering sophistication to charm an official and help her spring Dane from jail. It was a little too revealing for her personal taste, but if it served now to prove to Gideon how much she had changed
from the wide-eyed child he had known so briefly, so much the better. She slipped on a pair of high-heeled silver sandals, smoothed her chignon into sleek order, and nodded with satisfaction at her reflection. Confidence, elegance and sophistication were what she had targeted, and she had hit the bull’s-eye.

Ross met her at the foot of the stairs, dressed in a dark blue tuxedo, and gave an admiring whistle, half beneath his breath. “Lovely.” His gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts revealed by the tunic. “Not exactly safe, but lovely.”

“It’s very fashionable. I should know. I designed it myself,” she said. Then, realizing how defensive she had sounded, she continued quickly, “Things around here have certainly changed.” She gestured at the gleaming black and white tiles on the floor and then at the exquisite crystal chandelier lighting the foyer. “Aubusson carpets, a Ming vase in the upstairs hall, and your sartorial elegance. Do you always dress for dinner?”

He shook his head. “Hardly ever. We get too much of these monkey suits when we’re on the job. No, this is strictly in your honor.”

“On the job?”

“Gideon owns a chain of casinos and resort hotels throughout the Caribbean and the Bahamas. The largest one is on Santa Isabella, which is our home base now.”

“Castellano isn’t your base?”

Ross shook his head. “Gideon kept the house and his contacts on the island, but we haven’t done any business here since the early days. Castellano is too unstable for Gideon’s taste.”

“I can’t see Gideon as a tycoon.”

“No? Talk to some of the people who have gone up against him sometime. Gideon is scrupulously honest, but that doesn’t keep him from being a damn tough businessman.” He waved his hand to a door to the left of the foyer. “Let’s go into the library and I’ll get you a drink. Gideon said he’d be a little late for dinner.”

“More business?” she asked with the lightest of sarcasm.

He hesitated. “Yes, I guess you could call it that.”

She had a fleeting memory of the voluptuous sensuality of the woman she had seen with Gideon. “I imagine you could call it a good many things.” She sailed past Ross and entered the library.

An amused smile tugged at Ross’s lips as he crossed to the cellarette on the far side of the room. “Do I detect a shade of annoyance in your tone? I gather Gideon wasn’t able to pacify you.”

“Did you really think he could?”

“No, but there was always a chance. Gideon can be very persuasive. What would you like? Wine, a highball?”

“White wine.” Her eyes narrowed on him across the room. “Just how deeply are you involved in all this?”

“Up to my neck,” he admitted as he poured wine into two fluted glasses. “Gideon did the ordering and I did the running. I lured Dane to Mariba with the promise of wine, women, and song.” He moved across the room toward her. “I delivered on all three by the way. Dane is having
one hell of a party at the hotel. You’re going to have trouble getting him to leave Mariba.”

“You placed him in a dangerous position with a government everyone in the world knows is corrupt.”

“But they’re not stupid, and they know better than to try to pull a fast one on Gideon. They learned a hell of a lot of respect for him before he pulled out of Castellano. The
guardia
will earn their bribe, or he’ll take it out of their skins.”

She shivered. The man Ross was talking about was completely alien to the man she had known. She took the glass he handed her and looked down into its clear golden depths. “The taxi driver called him ‘The Texan.’ He said it in capital letters, as if there were only one.”

Ross shrugged. “It’s a nickname he picked up when we first arrived here. You’ll find out it’s a sobriquet well-known in the Caribbean these days.” He took a sip of wine. “And as far as this hemisphere is concerned, there is only one. You can’t confuse him with anyone else.”

“No, he’s definitely an original,” Serena said faintly. She lifted her glass to her lips. “Would you like to tell me why you helped him with this insanity?”

“I owed him,” Ross said simply. “I helped you to get away from him. I thought I was doing the right thing, but it didn’t turn out that way. He went crazy worrying about you. He tore Mariba apart, trying to find a clue to where you had gone. We finally decided you must have arrived by ship and left the same way.”

Serena nodded. “I told you I had somewhere to go.”

“And that you were married. I thought it might make a difference to Gideon.” His lips twisted. “It didn’t. He said if the bastard had sent you wandering the streets in such a state, he didn’t deserve to keep you. So we started looking for you.” He took another sip of wine. “As soon as the money started coming in he hired a detective agency. You didn’t leave much of a trail and it took a long time. Two years ago they tracked you down.”

“Two years.” Her smile was faintly skeptical. “He wasn’t overeager to resume our acquaintance. Perhaps he’s more enthralled with the idea than the reality. I’m sure he’s had plenty of distractions to amuse him.”

“Women? He’s a man. What did you expect?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing to me if he has an entire harem. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“I’m tempted to bring up the old chestnut about protesting too much,” he said lightly. He checked his wrist watch. “It’s almost eight-thirty. We’d better go into dinner. Gideon said not to wait for him, if he didn’t show up.”

“How considerate. He practically abducts me and then can’t be bothered to show up for dinner. I don’t believe he knows what he wants.”

“Wrong.” Gideon stood in the doorway. “I know exactly what I want, it’s just that everything seems to be conspiring to keep me from getting it.” He came forward, smoothing his rumpled hair with one hand. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and ruffled dress shirt and wore them with as much
ease as he had jeans and boots. “Sorry to be late. I had an emergency and then I had to change again and—” He broke off, his gaze on the expanse of creamy flesh revealed by the neckline of Serena’s tunic.

Serena felt the hot color rush to her cheeks. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t remember when she’d blushed last. “It’s rude to stare.”

“Sometimes being a poor ignorant cowboy has its advantages.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off the deep cleavage swelling from the low bodice. “Unlike city dudes, when something is offered we reach out and take. If you hadn’t wanted me to look, you wouldn’t have put yourself on display like this.” His gaze reluctantly moved up to her face. “Now, would you?”

“Of course I would. Low necklines are in this year, particularly the Elizabethan look. It’s very stylish to—”

“Make a man want to drag you off to the nearest bed?” he finished softly.

“No, that isn’t what I meant at all. Not everyone is—”

“I suggest we go into dinner,” Ross interrupted quickly. He took Serena’s glass and set it on the Sheraton desk behind him. “Gideon, leave her alone. She’s been through enough today.”

Gideon seemed mildly surprised. “My, how protective you’re being. Maybe I shouldn’t have left you alone for quite so long.” Gideon’s glance returned to Serena’s breasts. “I sure as hell wouldn’t, if I’d known she was going to pull an Eleanor of Aquitaine.”

“Yes, you would.” Ross’s gaze searched Gideon’s face. “Is everything okay?”

Gideon nodded. “Better. For now.”

“Eleanor of Aquitaine?” Serena asked, bewildered.

“She rode bare-breasted at the head of her troops into the fray,” Gideon told her solemnly. “Isn’t that what you’re doing, Serena? I’ve never seen a challenge more beautifully obvious.”

“Dinner,” Ross said again, taking Serena’s arm and nudging her gently toward the door. “With all possible speed.”

Serena heard Gideon’s low chuckle behind her as Ross ushered her quickly from the room.

Two

The service at the table was provided by a slim, dark-skinned young man and was both quiet and unobtrusive. The crystal and china were exquisite, the food was a gourmet’s delight. Serena was scarcely aware of any of it. She was conscious only of Gideon’s gaze fixed on her with an intensity that caused the surroundings to fade.

Ross attempted the difficult task of keeping the conversational ball in the air, but received only monosyllabic replies from Gideon and Serena. When the meal was over he pushed back his chair, sighed in relief, and said, “Coffee in the study, I think. I hope you both realize I’m planning on nominating myself for a medal. I deserve it after submitting my sensitive psyche to the flak the two of you have been mentally tossing at each other.”

“Flak?” Gideon raised an eyebrow. “That’s a poor choice of words. I’m not feeling in the least
warlike.” He threw his napkin on the table and rose to his feet. “Though I admit my thoughts were definitely incendiary.”

“I think it’s a very fitting word,” Serena said coolly. “I’m feeling extremely militant at the moment.”

Gideon smiled. “Eleanor into the fray?” he asked softly. “I can hardly wait.”

Serena found her gaze clinging to his as if she were mesmerized. She didn’t know how many seconds passed before she was able to tear her glance away. She drew a deep breath and tried wildly to think of something to say to destroy the electricity charging the atmosphere between them. “I’m no Eleanor, and you’ll wait a long time, Gideon.”

“I already have.” He grinned. “But at least I’m halfway home.”

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“That night at Concepción’s.” His gaze teasingly lingered on her breasts. “It chafes my possessive instincts to know I wasn’t the only one to be so privileged, but that memory has furnished me with a number of fantasies through the years.”

The color flooded her cheeks as the memory of gentle hands pulling the white satin bodice up to cover her bare breast suddenly came back to her. “I forgot about that,” she whispered.

His smile faded. “I think you tried to forget everything about me, didn’t you? I wonder why you felt the need. We’re going to have to discuss quite a few things, Serena. Do you remember the bushwhackers we talked about? I have an idea one of them got to you after you left me.”

She suddenly felt unutterably weary. “Quite a
few of them got to me, but I fought them off the only way I could.” She smiled with an effort. “And in the end I came out on top.”

“Not entirely,” he said slowly. “You let them take a few things away from you. I guess I’m going to have to see what I can do about getting that booty back.”

Ross suddenly coughed. “Look, I’m still in the room,” he said mildly. “I just thought I’d point it out, in case I’d become an invisible man.”

Serena smiled vaguely at him and turned her attention back to Gideon. “The only thing I want you to get back for me is Dane.”

“In time.” Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “I told you what my terms are. All you have to do is to agree, and I’ll put the wheels in motion. Lord knows I want to give you whatever you want. Just give me my chance to—” He suddenly broke off as the slim, white-garbed young man who had served dinner appeared at his elbow. The boy murmured something in a low tone and then disappeared as quietly as he had come.

Gideon’s expression was abstracted as he turned away. “Something’s come up,” he said tersely. “Take care of her, Ross.” Then he was striding out of the room without giving Serena another glance.

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