JAKrentz - The Pirate, The Adventurer, & The Cowboy (30 page)

He was interrupted in his contemplation of the queen by a grumbling roar from the front door. Gideon went to open it.
Machu Picchu ambled inside, pausing briefly to slap his tail heavily against Gideon's boot before he heaved himself up onto his favorite indoor position on the back of the sofa.

"Dinner. I'm supposed to drop everything and pick her up for dinner. Where does she get off giving orders like that? Who the hell does she think she is?"

The cats blinked lazily and watched as Gideon strode along the hall to his study. There, carefully weighted down by a big chunk of rose quartz, he found the stack of letters he had received from one Sarah Fleetwood. For some reason he couldn't explain why he'd kept them all.

The earliest dated from four months ago when she had first contacted him for information on modern treasure hunting. The latest dated from last week. He picked it up and scanned it again. It was in the same style as all the rest, breezy, enthusiastic, cheerful and inexplicably captivating.

Dear Mr. Trace:

It's midnight but I had to let you know I am nearly finished with
Glitter Quest
, I want to tell you how much I appreciate your research assistance. It really made a difference. The plot is much more intricate and involved because of some of the details you provided. It's been fascinating working with you. This has been such a fun book to write.

I must tell you I have truly enjoyed our correspondence these past few months. In fact, I have been inspired, but I'll explain just how at another time.

By the way, if you're still suffering from that cold you mentioned in your last note, I suggest you try hot tea with a shot of lemon and honey. Works wonders.

Yours,

Sarah

P.S. Am enclosing a cartoon I cut out of the paper this afternoon. I thought you would enjoy it.

The cartoon featured a pair of cats. It was only a coincidence that the cats, one beefy and one quite small, vaguely resembled
Machu Picchu and Ellora, Gideon told himself. After all, he'd never mentioned either feline in his letters to Sarah.

He glanced at the old clock in the corner. It was still early in the day. Plenty of time to find an excuse for not taking Sarah Fleetwood to dinner.

But the woman knew too damned much about the Fleetwood Flowers, Gideon reminded himself. And now she had managed to locate him. That made her a distinct threat to the quiet, well-ordered existence he had carved out for himself.

Gideon had learned long ago that it was good policy to neutralize potential threats before they got to be real problems.

He'd better take the lady to dinner.

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I
T WASN'T
as if he had anything better to do, Gideon told himself as he climbed out of his car in the motel parking lot. It was either this or another evening alone with Ellora,
Machu Picchu and a good book. Not that the evenings alone were all that bad. For the most part he found them comfortable.

But a part of him still hankered after an occasional shot of excitement and, for better or worse, Sarah Fleetwood had managed to whet his appetite. He had to admit it was the first time in a long while that a woman had been this interesting. What few relationships he'd gotten involved in since his divorce had tended to be quiet and extremely low-key.

There was nothing quiet or low-key about Sarah Fleetwood.

The door of one of the motel rooms was flung wide as he started toward the office to inquire about Sarah's room number.

"Hi, Gideon," Sarah called out across the parking lot. "I'm ready."

He turned at the sound of Sarah's voice and saw her furiously locking the door behind herself. She must have been watching for him from the window. Gideon couldn't remember the last time a woman had waited impatiently for him at a window. Leanna had always been much too poised or preoccupied with her work for that sort of thing, at least when it came to waiting for him.

Of course, he should bear in mind that Sarah Fleetwood was not just waiting for a dinner date. She was after five pairs of jeweled earrings known as the Fleetwood Flowers. That was bound to make any woman eager.

"You're late," Sarah informed him as she hurried across the parking lot. Her high heels clicked on the pavement in a way Gideon found surprisingly sexy. The sound made him think of soft feminine sighs and sudden passion in the middle of the night.

Annoyed with himself, he took his mind off sex and glanced at his watch. "Five minutes. You going to fire me for a lousy five minutes?"

She gave a gurgle of delighted laughter as she hopped into the car without waiting for him to get the door. "Does that mean you've decided to let me hire you in the first place?"

He slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. "I'm thinking about it."

"Then it's all set." Sarah sat back, clearly bubbling over with satisfaction.

"Not quite." He spun the wheel and drove out of the small lot. "I said I'm thinking about it. I'll let you know my answer when I'm ready."

"Okay, okay. Be that way. In the meantime, I'm hungry. Does this place called the Wild Water Inn have pasta?"

"I've never noticed. Whenever I go there, I order fish. That's the house specialty."

"Maybe they have some pasta and fish dishes. Linguine with clams or something."

He slanted her an appraising glance. "I wouldn't be surprised. Even if it's not on the menu, I'll bet the chef will bend over backward to make a special."

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise. "Do you really think so? He must be a very accommodating chef. What's his name?"

"Mort."

"Mort. I'll remember that. What a nice man."

"You've never even met him and you don't know for sure yet if he'll go to the trouble of preparing something special for you." But Mort probably would do it, Gideon conceded. There was something about Sarah Fleetwood that made a man want to please her just to see the delight reflected in her face.

Any man or just him
? he wondered with a sudden sense of foreboding.

Gideon studied her out of the corner of his eye as she watched the rugged coastline sweep past. He knew he was checking to see if his first impression had been wrong. But his earlier reactions this afternoon did not undergo any drastic revision now.

He guessed her age at around thirty, give or take a couple of years, although she might have been younger. Those clear, deep hazel eyes were just as unsettling now as they had been when he'd first opened his door to her, her small, elfin features just as piquant.

The red silk sheath she wore played lightly over a slender, surprisingly sensuous body. There were veins of gold running through her light brown hair. She had brushed the heavy mass straight back from her forehead and tied it in a cascading ponytail that somehow managed to look chic instead of youthful. There was a sleek delicacy about her that would make anything she wore look stylish.

All in all, she still reminded him of Ellora. Gideon briefly regretted that he hadn't put on a tie. He suddenly felt vaguely underdressed in his jeans and white shirt.

"This scenery is magnificent, isn't it?" Sarah said, turning away from the window reluctantly. "I'm going to have to set a book here. It's the perfect backdrop for a romance with intrigue and suspense. Lots of drama and impending danger. Where did you live before you moved to Washington, Gideon?"

"Here and there."

"Ah-ha. A world-weary wanderer who's finally decided to settle down. I knew it. What did you do before you started publishing
Cache
?"

"This and that."

"Real-life treasure hunting, I'll bet."

He gave her an irritated glance. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, we already know you're not a mass murderer and I don't see you as a sales rep. So what else would give you a background in this and that?"

"The inability to hold a good job for any length of time?"

"Nah. You could do just about anything you wanted to do. If you wanted to hold down an ordinary job, you'd have done it. But I don't see you as an ordinary sort of man, Gideon. You're like one of the heroes out of my books and I never write about ordinary men."

"Look, Ms. Fleetwood, we'll probably get along a whole lot better if you don't try to romanticize me."

"How can I help it? You're a very romantic figure."

"You call being forty years old and living alone in an old house with two cats romantic?" He glanced at her in sheer disbelief.

"Very."

"You've got the wrong man. You want someone like Jake Savage."

She was immediately fascinated. "Who?"

"Jake Savage." Gideon wasn't surprised by her reaction. Women always reacted that way to Savage. Just the sound of his name was enough to do it for this particular female, apparently.

"What a terrific name. Do you think he'd mind if I used it some day in a book?"

"I doubt it, he's dead."

"Too bad. What was he like?"

"He was the kind of guy you're trying to make me into. Savage was a real-life adventurer. Liked to live life on the edge. Ran a business called Savage & Company."

"What did Savage & Company do?"

"Just about anything in and around South America and the
Caribbean that paid enough. Flew supplies into the jungles for various governments, including our own. Transported equipment up rivers for tourists, photographers and scientists. Handled shipments of medicine and clothing for charitable organizations. Acted as guides and outfitters for archaeologists and the occasional team of journalists. And once in a while Savage and Company did some actual treasure hunting. Oh, you'd have loved Jake Savage, all right."

"What happened to him?" Sarah demanded.

"The story is he went off on a particularly dangerous job one day and never came back out of the jungle."

"And thus passed into legend. Great story."

"Thought you'd like it."

"Did Jake Savage go alone on his last expedition?"

Gideon hesitated. "Savage had a partner who usually accompanied him."

"Did the partner die in the jungle, too?"

"Apparently. He didn't return, at any rate, but hardly anyone noticed. Savage was the big name."

"So his obit got all the attention."

"Right. Without him the company folded."

"All very interesting, but we don't need Jake Savage along on our expedition. We've got you."

"You must drive people nuts with all this boundless optimism and enthusiasm."

She bit her lip. "Am I driving you nuts?"

"Yeah. But don't worry about it. I haven't got anything better to do tonight."

She grinned. "I didn't think so."

Ten minutes later when he walked into the restaurant with Sarah Fleetwood beside him, it seemed to Gideon that every head in the place turned in his direction.

That wasn't strictly true, of course. The customers from out of town had no interest whatsoever in the very ordinary sight of a man walking into a restaurant with a woman. But all the locals, from the hostess to the busboy, were instantly intrigued. Gideon swore silently. He was not accustomed to being the center of attention and he didn't like it. It was all Sarah's fault.

"Nice to see you again, Gideon. It's been a while. Follow me, please." Maryann Appley, the young hostess, smiled very brightly as she led the way to a seat by the window. "I hope you enjoy your dinner, ma'am," she added to Sarah as she pulled out the chair.

"Thanks, I will," Sarah said cheerfully, reaching for the menu. "Look, they do have linguine and clams. What luck." As soon as the hostess disappeared she leaned forward. "Why is everyone staring?" she asked in a stage whisper.

"It's been a while since I brought a lady here." Gideon picked up his menu.

"Oh." She looked thoughtful. "Does that mean you don't date much?"

"It's a small community. Not many single women around. They all head for
Portland or
Los Angeles because there aren't many single men around here, either."

"There's you."

Gideon looked up. "What are you trying to do? Figure out why I'm not married?"

Sarah blushed a charming shade of peach and looked down at her silverware. "I suppose so. Frankly, I couldn't believe my good luck when I realized from your first letter that you weren't married."

"I don't recall mentioning the fact."

"No, but I could tell. In my age group the men always seem to be married. Or if they're single it's because they've just recently been divorced and are all messed up in the head. Or they're gay." She looked briefly anxious.

"I'm not gay and I'm not recently divorced."

She relaxed back into her infectious smile. "Perfect."