Jeopardy (10 page)

“Just fine. We’re down to the wire now and things will be stepping up.”

“I’d say I wish I were there helping you, but I wouldn’t mean it. We’re having too much fun. And I’m glad we brought Dev with us. I know he’s too young to know where he is and what he’s seeing, and it’s a real hassle carting around all his baby paraphernalia, but if we had left him at home with a nurse, I would be spending all my time worrying about him.”

“Worrying about him?” She smiled as Amarillo’s teeth fastened onto her earlobe and chewed lightly.

“I’m afraid so. We have the best staff and security system in the world, but I would still worry about his safety. I guess that’s normal though.” Unaccountably Angelica felt herself tense. “His safety?”

“I worry about everything from a scrape on his knee to a kidnapping. No one told me that worrying so much was in a mother’s job description.” 

“Kidnapping? Have you had any threats?” 

“Good heavens, no! Paranoia is a condition all mothers have, believe me. Just you wait. One day you’ll have it too. Listen, I’d better go. Tell Rill hi when you see him, and don’t work too hard. The ball will happen with or without perfection on your part. The main thing is to relax and have fun. See you soon. ’Bye.”

“Good-bye.” She replaced the receiver and gazed up at the underside of the lace canopy.

“What’s wrong?” Amarillo asked.

“Nothing. I’m supposed to relax and have fun.” 

“Good advice, but what was that about threats?” 

“Threats? Oh, Caitlin was just telling me that she’s glad they decided to take Dev with them. Otherwise she would be spending all her time worrying about him.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know why. Nico and I designed their security system ourselves. A fly couldn’t get into their house without the authorities being notified.” He touched a finger to her wrinkled brow. “What’s this? Did she say something to upset you?”

“No, of course not. It’s just that I guess I've never considered the possibility that little Dev might get kidnapped. It’s a frightening thought.” 

“Yes, it is, but Dev is as safe as any child can be, so don’t worry.”

“You’re right.” She exhaled, deliberately releasing her tension with her breath. “By the way, they both said hi to you.”

“It’s always nice to be remembered.” He dropped a kiss on her smooth shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell them I was here with you? Are you afraid they would be shocked or disapprove?”

“No, no. As a matter of fact, Nico would probably be delighted that his best friend and his sister were together." Whether he would like the way their relationship would eventually end remained to be seen, she reflected. For her too.

She came up on one elbow so that she could see him better. His body was angled toward her; the lace-edged white sheet draped over the jut of his hips and down his abdomen to below his navel. Light-colored hair covered his bronze chest. She skimmed her fingers through the thickness, thinking with wonder that she loved this man. And for the time being, at least, she had him all to herself. “You know what?”

He grinned lazily up at her. “No, what?”

“Most men would look silly lying amid all this lace, but you look even more masculine. How do you do it?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“The lace. You should be uncomfortable, out of place. After all, you look like you were formed out of West Texas bedrock.”

His grin widened. “How do you know what West Texas bedrock looks like?”

“It looks like you. Magnificent. Hard. There’s no softness anywhere in you.”

“Oh, Angelica.” He pulled her back down and kissed her. "That’s not true. There’s a lot of softness in me—at least for you.” He grinned. “Much more than is good for me probably.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

“I’ll prove it to you. We’ll do anything you want today. What do you want to do? Horseback ride? Swim? Tennis? The beach?”

She shook her head regretfully. “I’ve got to work today. The ball,” she added by way of explanation. “I have a whole list of people I need to see, things I have to do.”

“You’re not going to work,” he said firmly.

She grinned. “I thought you said you’d do what
I
wanted.”

“I will. The thing is, you don’t really want to work. ”

“I don’t?”

“No,” he said with a twinkle In his golden eyes that made him all the more irresistible to her. "You want to play with me.”

“Play? You’ve never struck me as a man who plays.” As soon as she spoke, she remembered the electric train set in his warehouse home. She started to mention it, but he pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair.

“Occasionally I play. Occasionally, with women who have velvet-brown eyes and silky brown hair. ” “And do you find many women who have these particular qualities?”

“Not a lot.”

“That’s good. That’s real good.”

“It’s still early," he murmured. “Do you feel like going back to sleep?” he asked.

“No."

“Do you want to get up and take a shower with me?"

A delicious warmth spread through her at the thought. “I’ll have to think about it. What other options are open to me?”

“Stay here in bed with me . . . and play.”

She tilted her head back. “I have an idea. Why don’t I stay here in bed with you . . . and play. Then, later, get up and take a shower with you.” 

“What great ideas,” he said, and took possession of her mouth.

The sun was setting as Amarillo and Angelica walked through the front doors of SwanSea and into the great hall.

She laughed breathlessly up at him. “Admit it, croquet is a game of finesse and skill.”

His lips quirked, enjoying her mirthful mood. “Where’s the finesse and skill? You hit a ball through a wire hoop. Big deal.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why did I beat you?”

“I was distracted.”

“By what?" she asked, clearly skeptical.

“By that pretty behind of yours. Eveiy time you bent over to hit the ball. You have no idea the thoughts that went through my head. Did you have those jeans especially made to fit you?”

“No, I bought them right off the shelf. Quit making excuses.”

"Excuses? You’ve obviously never seen that fantastic bottom of yours from my perspective or you’d understand. But you know what? I'm willing to forget and forgive if, once we’re upstairs, you could demonstrate some of your croquet techniques to me, you know, under more controlled conditions. You could bend over and I could—” 

She laughed and hit his chest. “You are
so
bad!”

“That’s not a no, is it?”

“Miss DiFrenza?”

Still laughing, she turned to find Peter. “Hi.” He nodded and handed her a thick stack of messages and mail. “These have come in for you today while you’ve been out. ”

She grimaced. “Thanks. I guess this is what I get for playing hooky.” She glanced up at Amarillo. “Tomorrow, I work.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“Maybe,” he said again, while his eyes twinkled in the way she found so irresistible.

“These are your messages, Mr. Smith,” Peter said, handing Amarillo a lesser stack.

“Thanks.” He paused to sift through them, then turned to Angelica. “Listen, I need to get back to a couple of these people right away. Why don’t I go to my room and make the calls, shower, and change, then meet you in your room in about fifteen minutes. We can discuss dinner.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “And maybe even the finer points of croquet.”

Amarillo strode down the fourth floor hall toward Angelica’s room. It had been only a little while since they had parted, but he was impatient and eager to see her again. It amazed him.

He was used to being alone. He
liked
being alone. But more and more he was finding that when she was away from him, both his mind and his senses felt absolute emptiness.

He halted in front of her door, raised his hand to knock, but then on a hunch gripped the doorknob, turned it, and opened the door.

Angelica was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, her head tilted toward the fire so that the heat could better reach her wet hair. She was wearing the short violet robe, he noted, and, his male instinct told him, nothing else.

At the sound of the door closing, she looked around, saw him, and smiled. “Hi. Did you get your calls made?”

“Why wasn’t this door locked?”

Her smile of greeting changed to one of amusement. “I'll go out on a limb and say it wasn’t locked because I didn’t lock it.”

He crossed the room to her, reached down for her outstretched hand, and helped her to her feet. “Keep the door locked, Angelica.”

“Why? You and I are the only two staying up here on the fourth floor. The staff doesn’t come onto the floor unless we call for them. The other guests can’t get on this floor either by stairs or elevator.”

“That’s not the point—”

She playfully tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Do you realize we could play hide-and-seek in the nude and no one would see us?” Her eyes took on a mischievous light. "And now that I think about it, that's a terrific idea!”

Faced with her good mood and her sexy attire, he couldn’t remain stem. “It’s a great idea,” he agreed, dropping onto the sofa and drawing her down beside him. “Except why don’t we change th rules a little. Instead of one of us hiding and the other seeking, why don't we hide together.”

 Her eyes widened with mock innocence. “But then there wouldn’t be anyone to seek.”

He wrapped a still-damp strand of her dark brown hair around his finger and used it to pull her gently toward him. He kissed her lightly, then murmured, “Yeah, but who would care?”

She grinned. “Good point.”

He straightened away from her. “Thank you. And I have another good point. From now on, lock the door.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone, aren’t you? You just won’t stop until you get your way.”

His lips twitched with humor. “A dog with a bone, Angelica? My, my, that's a very un-socialite turn of phrase. Where did you learn it?”

“I have no idea. Probably from my brother, who probably learned it from you. Now, answer my original question. Did you get your calls made? Do we have a free evening ahead of us?”

He nodded. “I did, and in answer to your second question, as far as I’m concerned we do. What about you?”

She glanced over at an end table, where she’d dumped her messages and mail on the way into the bathroom to take a shower. “I’m sure there’s nothing I can’t leave until tomorrow. I hope so, anyway, because that’s my plan.” She idly reached for a letter and slit it open with a manicured nail. “What would you like to do? Shall we dress and go downstairs for dinner?”

“I don’t know. Since it’s obvious you’d rather put off my idea of croquet demonstrations under controlled conditions for a while—”

She grinned. “Just for a while. Not for long. I can see how much it means to you.”

“Uh-huh. Well, until you get into another croquet state of mind, I kind of liked your idea about hide-and-seek, using my rules of course. We hide together and
pretend
there's someone after us. That way, we can maintain the suspense of the game, plus have each other to share the fun.” “What about my rule of no clothes?”

He nodded. “It’s a good rule. I say we keep it.” “You know, I had no idea you were such a game-playing sort of person.”

“I told you, only with women who have velvet-brown eyes and silky brown hair.”

She grinned, pulled the letter from the envelope, and scanned it. “A last-minute plea for tickets.” She handed him the letter and reached for another envelope. “Ill have to tell them that they’re welcome to come to the ball,” she said, opening the next envelope, “but unfortunately they won’t be able to stay here. I’m happy to say SwanSea is booked to capacity for the weekend."

He recognized the name on the letter. “It won’t be any trouble for them to fly their private jet in for the evening. Mr. Lawrence cam send a car to the airport for them.” He glanced at her and saw her pulling out a letter from the second envelope. “Hey, I thought you were going to wait until tomorrow.”

“I am, but they’re kind of like potato chips, I can’t seem to open just one. I promise, though, this will be the last.” She bent her head to the letter, and in the next moment felt the blood drain from her face.

Amarillo saw her go pale. “What’s wrong?” Without saying a word, she handed him the sheet of paper.

He looked down and saw that letters had been cut from magazines and pasted together to form a message. It read:

Come back home now! If you don’t start minding me, I’ll make you mind me.

“Dammit!” He grabbed up the envelope and saw that it was addressed to her at SwanSea and had been postmarked from Boston. “The bastard changed his method of operating. I put a trace on your phone here, but I didn’t think to intercept your mail.”

Her glance shot to the phone by her bed, then back to him. “You put a trace on my phone without telling me?”

“You bet I did, and I offer no apology.”

She was too shaken by the note to argue with him. She took the sheet of paper back from him and stared down at the pasted letters. “I thought I had left this behind in Boston.”

"I was hoping he wouldn’t be smart enough to put two and two together immediately and realize you were here.”

“But you said that no one followed me.”

“No one did. Unfortunately this guy is tenacious, and on top of that he seems to know a lot about you.”

Her eyes widened with horror. “Do you mean this person might be an acquaintance of mine?” 

“I don’t have enough to go on yet to say for certain, but it’s possible. Or he could be a stranger who has made you his obsession and has studied you to the point that he knows everything a person can who is outside your family and circle of friends.”

“You’re frightening me.”

He had chosen his words for that very effect. As much as he hated the apprehension he saw in her eyes, he had felt it necessary to be blunt with her. “You didn’t take the phone calls seriously. I hope now you’ll understand why I think you should take precautions.”

“What sort of precautions?”