Twist of Fate (11 page)

“And saw something he liked?”

“Saw something he could use,” Gideon corrected harshly. “It was a fair swap for a while. He got my absolute loyalty and twenty-four hours a day out of me whenever he wanted it. In return I got a couple of years of college and an on-the-job education that was second to none. Cyrus taught me everything: how to buy a suit, how to entertain clients, how to manipulate people without letting them know what was happening, how to stay within the law while taking just about anything you wanted.”

“And then he pulled one last maneuver and left you standing in a pile of manure.”

“That's an accurate way to put it,” Gideon agreed. “And the beauty of it was that I never even saw it coming.”

Hannah felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch Gideon's big hand as it curled beside her on the armrest. Firmly she resisted the impulse. This man knew all about maneuvering and manipulating. She would be a fool to think he might not be herding her along right now in the direction he wanted her to go. The only thing she didn't understand was why he was bothering in the first place.

“So you're taking a vacation while you wonder how you're going to deal with Ballantine's son.”

“I haven't had a vacation in nine years.”

“What about those trips to Vegas?”

“Vegas doesn't count,” he told her. “I can see that now.”

“I won't go to bed with you for the novelty of it, you know,” Hannah said quite conversationally. Inside her stomach was tightening.

Gideon looked at her. “If you go to bed with me, it won't be a novelty. It will be important.”

Hannah wished devoutly that she'd kept her mouth shut. Because now she knew for certain. Those gold-flecked eyes had been gleaming behind his dark lashes, and there was a quiet awareness in him that Gideon wasn't troubling to conceal. The outlines of the puzzle altered again as a new piece was added. Hannah wasn't sure she understood the additional information, but she felt its impact deep in her body.

 

T
HE SWIFT
C
ARIBBEAN TWILIGHT
was darkening into night when the jet touched down on Santa Inez's single runway. During the past hundred miles the island had grown from a hazy green dot in the ocean to a painter's paradise of palms and sandy beaches. The lights of the tiny terminal blazed with welcome as Hannah and Gideon stepped out into the muggy tropical warmth.

“I've only been here five minutes and I feel like I need a shower already.” Hannah headed for the car-rental agency at the back of the terminal.

“We'll acclimate,” Gideon assured her. “Aren't you going to grab a cab?”

“I want my own transportation. I'm going to rent one of those cute little jeeps with the fringe on top.” She pointed to a row of frivolous pink jeeps. “There's probably an unlimited number of cabs waiting outside,” she added helpfully.

“That's all right. I'll share the jeep.”

“Are you going to call a hotel?”

“Not just yet. I'll see you out to your aunt's place, first.”

Hannah didn't bother to argue. She knew there was no point. Fifteen minutes later, Gideon shoved the keys into the jeep's ignition as Hannah climbed in beside him.

“Did you have to order one with pink fringe?” He backed the small vehicle out of its slot and found the narrow, palm-lined road that ringed the island.

“Don't worry, everyone will think you're a tourist.”

“That's not what's bothering me. I am a tourist. I'm more worried that everyone will think I'm an idiot.”

“Stop complaining about the pink fringe. Look, Gideon, isn't it beautiful?” Hannah inhaled deeply as the jeep swung around a corner to reveal a charming cove. Ahead of them the fading light revealed a perfect islandscape. A curving white beach met the froth of a gentle sea in an inviting scene that could have come straight out of an ad. All it lacked was an entwined couple strolling along at the water's edge. The warm evening breeze was scented with the sea. “I think I'm beginning to relax already.”

“I'm glad
you
are,” Gideon growled, jerking the jeep to the far side of the road as a dilapidated taxi came whizzing toward them. The car was straying dangerously over a very old white line that could barely be seen. The driver waved cheerfully and honked before disappearing into the darkness behind them.

Hannah's sense of relaxation vanished in an instant. She reached out to grip the edge of the windshield and took several deep breaths.

“Hey,” Gideon said softly, “take it easy.”

“I still get a little tense in a car. I've been doing quite well lately, but…”

“I can imagine how it feels.” He eased his foot off the gas pedal, letting the jeep slow appreciably. Then he threw her a quick grin. “You're supposed to be navigating. Get to work.”

“You're going to have to try to remember that I'm not one of your employees, Gideon.” But Hannah pulled the small map out of her purse and leaned forward to study it in the light of the dash. She wouldn't admit it for the world but the small assignment did serve to distract her from the road, which was becoming increasingly twisty. Hannah didn't like the way it was rising above the sea, either. She didn't like roads that ran along the edge of cliffs, scenic though they might be. “My aunt's cottage is at the other end of the island. We'll have to go through town and then start watching for landmarks. You can keep an eye out for a hotel. If we pass one we can stop. You can run in and register.”

“I'll worry about it later.” Gideon's full attention was on his driving as they approached the small port town.

The conglomeration of colonial Spanish and Dutch style buildings was named after the island itself and reflected its varied past. Hannah delighted in the dusty pink-and-white architecture. To her right the intimate little harbour protected a collection of boats that consisted of everything from gleaming white yachts to rusty charter boats. On the single main street traffic inexplicably slowed to a crawl. People on the sidewalk called out to their friends in passing cars. Colorfully dressed tourists mixed with the equally colorful locals, meandering out of the shops that were closing for the day. The open-air bars were beginning to fill as darkness settled.

“I should pick up some food,” Hannah said thoughtfully. “That looks like a small grocery store up ahead. Let's stop.”

Gideon obeyed, swinging the little jeep into a convenient opening between two taxis. “I'll wait here while you go inside.”

Hannah glanced up as she clambered out of the vehicle with her cane. “Don't you want to come in with me?”

“I'd rather keep track of the luggage. There's no place to lock it up in this thing.”

“Oh. Good point.” She glanced at the back seat of the completely open jeep. “I didn't think about that when I rented it.”

“I know. You were too taken with pink fringe.” He draped one arm over the steering wheel and smiled at her. “Run along, Hannah.”

“Don't let anyone take the hubcaps, either.”

There was a distinct pause and then Gideon said gently, “I'll keep an eye on them.”

“It would be embarrassing to have to buy them back from the guy who took them.”

“Do all guidance counselors have this perverted sense of humor?”

“Probably. See you in a few minutes.”

She turned toward the small grocery store, feeling inexplicably lighthearted. Through the louvered door she could see an array of familiar looking potato chip packages and soft drink labels. Once inside she found an assortment of canned goods, although there was virtually nothing in the way of fresh vegetables. She picked up a carton of milk, some cereal, bread, and tuna fish. Adding a few other items, she made her way to the check-out stand where the clerk was chatting with a girlfriend in the soft island patois. He glanced up as Hannah approached and shifted into heavily accented English.

It wasn't until Hannah emerged from the shop juggling her sack of groceries and her cane that she allowed herself to admit she had picked up enough supplies for two people. Gideon said nothing as he put the jeep in gear and edged back out onto the crowded street.

Elizabeth Nord's beachfront home was a graceful, old-fashioned cottage, complete with an encircling veranda. The wooden structure had been painted white, and it sat amid a grove of palms. Lush banks of exotic greenery sprinkled with oversize flowers grew in a freewheeling riot of color around the house. The jeep's headlights picked up only a hint of this wealth of plant life as Gideon parked the vehicle in the circular drive. Hannah could hear the soft noise of the surf in the distance as she opened her purse to search for the cottage keys.

She said nothing when Gideon picked up both flight bags as well as the sack of groceries and followed her up the veranda steps. When she unlocked the graceful double doors, found the wall switch and turned the light on, the living room, which ran along the whole front of the house, was revealed. She smiled with pleasure.

“This,” she announced, “is the way my apartment is supposed to look.”

“The real thing.” Gideon set down the bags and walked around the room, opening windows. The trapped, musty air soon began to dissipate. When Hannah switched on the overhead ceiling fan the atmosphere improved even more quickly.

White lacquered rattan furniture with exotically patterned cotton cushions were right at home in a tropical beach cottage. Bleached board floors and an expanse of windows had a cooling effect that was visual as well as physical. Between the windows, floor-to-ceiling bookcases were filled with journals, notebooks, and a lifetime's collection of heavy volumes. A huge, carved teak desk stood in front of one of the front windows, commanding a view of the sea.

Gideon uncranked the last of the louvered windows and halted beside a small teak cabinet. A tray of dusty glasses sat on the top. When he leaned down to open the door a variety of bottles glinted in the light. Gideon unhesitatingly reached inside to select one.

“Your aunt had good taste in Scotch.”

“I'm glad you approve.”

Hannah found herself trailing along behind Gideon as he carried the glassware and the Scotch into a surprisingly well-equipped kitchen. She watched as he rinsed the glasses in the sink and then proceeded to pour a healthy measure of Scotch into each. Her stomach was tightening again.

“To a real vacation.” Gideon gravely handed Hannah a glass. His eyes held hers as she obediently raised the Scotch to her lips and tasted its mellowed bite.

“I didn't see a phone,” Hannah heard herself say carefully.

“No.”

“It's going to be tough to start dialing local hotels without a phone.”

“Yes.”

He stepped past her, crossing the living room to move out onto the veranda. Slowly Hannah followed, aware of standing on the brink of a very wide, very deep chasm.

Gideon's back was to her as he leaned against the railing and stared out to sea. Hannah realized just how powerful swimming had made his shoulders. She watched the smooth muscles bunch slightly beneath the fabric of his shirt as Gideon picked up the glass he had set on the railing and took another swallow.

“It's very different, isn't it?” Hannah ventured, feeling her way so cautiously she might have been trying to walk on hot coals. “It's not Tucson and it's not Seattle.”

“Neutral territory.”

“Is it?”

“I'd like to stay here with you, Hannah.”

She took another sip of Scotch, hoping it would unknot her stomach. But all she felt was the fire. If she ever went to bed with this man, it wouldn't be a novelty. It would be important. Crucially important.

“Yes,” she said and decided not to think about all that she might be saying yes to with the single word.

Gideon swung around and smiled slightly. “Why don't we go for a swim?”

T
HE SEA WAS PERFECT
. The frosting effect of the fat tropical moon on the soft waves created an illusion of alien reality. The warmth of the water was incredible to someone accustomed to the year-round bone-chilling cold of Puget Sound. Hannah stood at the edge of the light, foaming surf and wondered how she could be so far away, both physically and mentally from Seattle.

“What are you thinking?” Gideon came up behind her, dropping his towel onto the beach. He had changed into the snug, sleek swimming trunks he had been wearing the day Hannah had met him in Las Vegas. His dark hair was silvered faintly by the moonlight and in the scented shadows his strong, lean body seemed larger, more overpowering than she had remembered. Gideon, too, seemed strangely alien. But in his alienness there was an indefinable lure, a promise of excitement and wonder.

“Just that you were right. Perhaps this is neutral territory. It certainly is different. There's something about islands that has always appealed to me. They're fantasy worlds. I think my aunt felt that way, too. She always lived on islands when she wasn't teaching in the States. For a long time she made her home in the South Pacific and later, after she retired, here on Santa Inez.” Hannah looked away from him, seeking the indistinguishable line where sea met night sky. “We could be all alone here.”

“We are all alone.”

He didn't touch her but she could feel his intent gaze as he examined her in the moonlight. The simple yellow bikini she had put on was not especially daring as such garments went, but Hannah felt quite naked in it now. The sensation made her uneasy. It also caused a ripple of anticipation. She set her cane down on the sand beside his towel and turned to glance at Gideon over her shoulder.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I don't know, but I sure as hell have waited a long time.” He took her arm as she limped into the water.

“It's so warm,” Hannah breathed.

“Almost as warm as you.”

“Gideon…”

“Hush, Hannah. Let's swim.” He tugged her gently down beside him on the far side of the lightly breaking waves.

The cove in which they swam was protected from the sea by a curving arm of tumbled rocks that reached almost half way around the sheltered water. The sea was gentle and silken and Hannah was weightless. For the first time since she had injured her leg, she felt graceful and mobile again. Here in the sea her weak knee was not the handicap it was on land. The pleasure of feeling strong once more made her laugh softly.

Beside her Gideon caught the laughter and smiled. He stroked slowly, luxuriously, leading the way. Hannah followed unquestioningly, feeling safe in this alien sea because of Gideon's presence. She was a fair swimmer but Gideon moved beside her like a sleek dolphin, playing in the liquid medium, slowing his pace to hers.

“Feels good?” he asked.

“It feels fantastic.”

He touched her then, his big hand gliding across her slick shoulder. He wasn't trying to stop her or guide her or slow her movement. He simply touched her.

Hannah trembled and covered her reaction with a small burst of speed that carried her just beyond his reach. But when she glanced to her side he was there. He moved without noise or commotion in the water. For some reason she veered away again, and again she lifted her head to find him at her side. Once more she darted off, acknowledging now the rising excitement that was beginning to build as she found herself playing the age-old game.

This time Gideon reappeared to her right, staying a little behind her. Hannah felt his hand on the calf of her leg, the lightest of caresses, as if he merely wanted to ensure that she knew he was there. She was aware of him, all right. She knew that regardless of how long she played the game, regardless of how often she slipped out of reach, whenever she turned around she would find him beside her. It was inevitable. The flickering excitement filled her with a curious tension.

Hannah came to a halt, finding her footing on the sandy bottom. The warm sea foamed around her breasts. Gideon sliced through the water until he was in front of her and then he, too, stood. His eyes were dark with unmistakable desire, and the too-brilliant moon etched the hard angles of his face, revealing the masculine power that animated him.

“I've wanted you since that first afternoon in Vegas.” The words were harsh, unvarnished truth.

She looked up at him, eyes wide in the silver light. “My brother said he was glad I'd had the sense not to go to bed with you.”

“I wouldn't have taken you to bed as long as the business with your brother's company was in the way.”

Hannah tilted her head to one side. “The Code of the West?”

“No. My code.”

“My brother's business is no longer in the way?”

“It's over and done.”

“For you,” she said. “Not for him.”

“If he's got the guts and the motivation, he'll survive. I taught him a lesson but I didn't destroy him.”

“You could have destroyed him.”

“There was no need.”

She inhaled deeply. “You're so accustomed to power, so used to wielding it. You've even set up your own ethical standards, haven't you? You don't operate according to the standards of others.”

“Is that so bad?”

“It makes you dangerous.”

“Not to you.” He lifted his hand and drew his forefinger along the line of her jaw. “Never to you.”

“Why should I be an exception?”

“Because you understand me.”

“Understanding doesn't buy safety,” Hannah whispered. “Just a little advance warning of disaster.”

His mouth curved slightly. “Do you feel you're standing in the path of disaster?”

“No,” she said honestly, “but that's probably because I'm not thinking logically tonight. I haven't been able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together yet.”

“Do you see me as a puzzle?”

“Yes.”

He let his hand slide down to the curve of her shoulder. “Come to bed with me, Hannah.”

“Because you want me?”

“Because I need you.” His other hand closed on her shoulder and he pulled her to him.

Hannah felt the strength in him, but her body responded to it positively, glorying in it. The anticipation she had been feeling flared into a blaze of longing. When his mouth came down on hers she parted her lips.

Gideon groaned, the sound emanating from deep in his chest. His kiss was aggressive, not tentative; hungry, not seductive. He made no attempt to camouflage his desire, but the truly fascinating thing was that he made no effort to hide his raw need, either.

Perhaps that was one of the advantages of understanding and wielding Gideon's kind of personal power, Hannah thought fleetingly. Perhaps it gave him the freedom to exercise a kind of honesty other men wouldn't be willing to risk. Still, it astonished her. She hadn't expected him to make his need so clear. She had expected more finesse, more artful seduction, more deliberate sensuality.

His hands were gliding along her skin, down her back, compelling her closer to the fiercely masculine outline of his body. Through the thin fabric of his swimming briefs Hannah could feel the rigid length of him and the heavy weight there made her suck in her breath.

She tried to remind herself that there was another explanation for his bluntly honest approach tonight. Gideon could manipulate people so easily. It was very possible he had found the key to manipulating her without Hannah even realizing it. She would not have responded to a deliberate, teasing seduction. She would have been wary of any protestations of love at first sight. There were a hundred different approaches he could have used that would have set up her defenses.

But Gideon had claimed he needed her. He was making her believe that claim with every touch of his hand, every word he uttered. In her own mind she could find no explanation for his following her first to Seattle and now to Santa Inez. No explanation, that is, except the one he had given her. He needed her.

If Gideon were manipulating her with his need, he was too clever for her tonight, Hannah decided. Because she wanted, no
needed
him, too.

“Neutral territory,” she murmured against his mouth.

“Our territory.”

“Yes.” And this time she meant yes to everything.

He must have sensed the surrender in her. Hannah felt his body tighten with restrained desire, heard the deep in-take of his breath and then her bikini bra was free, dangling in his hand. Looping the strap over his wrist Gideon looked down at her breasts.

“You're very soft, my sweet Hannah.” He flattened his hands on her shoulders and stroked slowly down her curves until her nipples were pressing into his palms. The sea frothed around his fingers, concealing and then revealing the shape of her breasts.

Hannah stretched her arms upward, circling his neck and lifted her face once more for his kiss. When his tongue surged eagerly into her mouth she felt him shifting position. The next thing she knew she was high in his arms, being carried back toward shore.

The night air was pleasantly cool on her wet body. Hannah clung to Gideon, the side of her breast teased and tantalized by the rough, curling hair of his chest.

He brought her through the surf and up onto the moonlit beach. Then Hannah felt herself being lowered to the towel. Already her skin was drying. Her breasts were tight and full and the need to be touched more intimately made her restless. She shifted her legs as Gideon came down beside her on the towel, one knee lifting a little in response to the tingling heat between her thighs.

“Gideon, I want you.”

“I know,” he said gently, the satisfaction deep in his voice. “I can feel it.” He dropped the bikini bra and stroked his hand down her stomach to the edge of her suit. Then he inserted his fingers beneath the elastic and stripped the remainder of the bikini off her completely. When she curled toward him, he held her close for a long moment.

He rolled aside and pulled off his own swimming briefs. Hannah caught the gleam of pale light on his flanks, saw the tautness of his stomach. His arousal was blatant, fiercely demanding.

“I've wanted to touch you for days.” He pulled her close again, his fingers gliding along her thigh, kneading, squeezing, stroking.

She curved her nails into the smooth muscles of his chest. “Please touch me, Gideon. I need it tonight. I've never needed anything so much in my life.”

Hannah's eyes closed as he obeyed. The trailing, blunt tips of his fingers moved to the inside of her thighs.

“Open for me, sweetheart.”

She did, a tiny moan accompanying the action. And then he was probing the hidden folds of sensitive skin, seeking the nubbin that was the center of feminine sensation. She gasped when he found it, clinging to him as her body flamed into full awareness.

“So hot, so wet and hot.” His touch increased the damp warmth until Hannah thought she would go out of her mind under the sensual stimulation.

He became more insistent as he sensed her response. Without any warning his fingers moved lower. Hannah's own fingertips reacted to the intimate invasion. She clenched them, unconsciously letting her nails sink into Gideon's chest. With a sensual aggression that surprised her more than it did Gideon, she crowded forward, urging him onto his back.

Hannah could see the devil looking out at her from behind his lashes, a devil who was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Gideon, please, don't laugh.”

“How can I help it? You make me very happy, sweet Hannah.” His hand continued to move intimately, teasing her into an exquisite sensitivity.

“And you're driving me out of my mind,” she complained softly.

“I think I like you like this.”

She arched her lower body against him. Then she reached down to cup him between gentle fingers.

“Ah, Hannah. Now you're going to push me over the edge.” The devil in his eyes was no longer laughing. His mood had gone suddenly, wholly intense.

“Yes.” Hannah pleaded with her body. “Yes, please, now, Gideon.”

He tautened beneath her. The night sky spun overhead as Hannah found herself flat on her back. Before her whirling senses could reorient themselves Gideon was sliding heavily between her thighs. He cradled her with one hand, using the other to guide himself.

Hannah parted her lips on a silent cry of acceptance, wonder, and welcome as Gideon surged into her. The shock of his possession went through her entire body. She felt drawn too tight, filled too full, overwhelmed. Gideon went still for a tense moment, his face a mask of violent, barely controlled desire. With trembling fingers he stroked her hair, giving her a chance to adjust to him. Slowly she relaxed around him.

“All right?” he asked.

“Perfect.”

He bent his head to kiss her shoulder. “This is what I've been needing. I've needed the feel of you in my arms, surrounding me, holding on to me. God, how I've needed it.”