Selected praise for
LISA JACKSON

“Lisa Jackson is a real talent.

She writes the kind of books I like to read.”

—New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin

“Lisa Jackson is incomparable.”

—New York Times bestselling author Samantha James

“Lisa Jackson is an enthralling storyteller.”

—Award-winning author Alexis Harrington

“Cold Blooded has compelling, intelligent and believable characters, and a remarkable storyline.”

—ReaderToReader.com

“This book has the perfect mix of secrets, lust and murder.”

—Revish.com on Absolute Fear

Sail Away
Lisa Jackson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LISA JACKSON

lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest. She has been writing for more than twenty years. Her books have appeared on the New York Times, Publishers Weekly and USA TODAY bestseller lists. Her free time is spent with friends and family. Readers can find out more about her latest books on her Web site, www.lisajackson.com.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Prologue

Marnie Montgomery tossed her briefcase onto the antique couch near the windows of her office. She marched straight to her desk, removed an earring and grabbed the phone. As she punched out her father’s extension, she balanced a hip against the polished rosewood and waited, her fingers drumming impatiently, a headache threatening behind her eyes.

“Victor Montgomery’s office,” a sweet voice sang over the wires. Kate Delany. Efficient Kate. Victor’s mistress and administrative assistant. She’d been with him for years, and hoped to become the next Mrs. Victor Montgomery.

“Is he in?” Marnie asked.

“Not yet. But I expect him any time.” Poor Kate. So helplessly in love with Marnie’s father. Loving Victor was easy, as Marnie could well attest. But sometimes that love became overpowering, and Marnie felt as if she’d lost a part of herself, hadn’t been allowed to grow into the woman she wanted to be.

She heard Kate flip through the pages of what she assumed was Victor’s appointment book. “Your dad called from the course about half an hour ago,” Kate said thoughtfully. “He should be on his way back here, and it looks as if his schedule isn’t too full this afternoon.”

Marnie’s lungs constricted. She cleared her throat. “Tell him I need to see him the minute he gets in.”

“It’s important?”

“Very,” Marnie replied, replacing the receiver and suddenly feeling cold inside. Slipping her earring back in place, she noticed the expensive furnishings in her office, the thick mauve carpet, the panoramic view of Seattle’s skyline from her corner office. Everything a girl could want.

Except Marnie didn’t want any of it. She didn’t want the forced smiles of the staff, she didn’t want the knowing glances in the coffee room, and she especially didn’t want the engraved brass nameplate that read: MARNIE MONTGOMERY, PUBLIC RELATIONS. It could just as well have read: VICTOR’S DAUGHTER. The people who worked “for her” in her department could function well without her. Victor had seen to that.

She tossed her pen into her empty In basket. Was it ever full? Were there ever papers and messages overflowing onto the desk? Did she ever have to put in extra hours? Did she even have to come back from lunch? No, no, no and no!

A nest of butterflies erupted into flight in her stomach at the thought of what she had to do. Rounding the desk she found a piece of letterhead, and rather than have her secretary type her letter of resignation she started writing it out in long hand.

How did one quit being a daughter? she wondered, her brow puckering as she chewed on the end of her pen.

How did she tell a loving father, who had tried all his life to do everything for her, that she felt suffocated?

How could she explain that she had to do something on her own, become her own person, live her own life?

Absurdly, she felt an urge to break down and cry tears of frustration, but because that was exactly what the weaker, dependent Marnie would have done, she gritted her teeth, refused to shed one lousy tear and started writing again in quick, sure strokes.

She couldn’t quit being Victor’s daughter, but she sure as hell could quit being dependent upon him.

Chapter One

Adam Drake felt the skeptical gaze of every man who sat around the polished table. They’d listened to him, scanned the thick sheaf of papers that was his proposal and leaned back in their chairs, without questions but exchanging knowing glances.

The three men in the room were potential investors from California, men who, so far, hadn’t turned him down. Yet. However, Adam knew they each had doubts about his proposal—and concerns about Adam himself. He didn’t blame them. His reputation was more than a little tarnished.

It was surprising that these investors had stuck around this long.

The lawyer, Brodie, reached into his pocket for a fresh pack of cigarettes. It seemed to take forever for the cellophane to drop onto the table. “I think I can speak for my associates,” he said, looking to the other two men and receiving quick nods of approval. “We like the idea of expanding to Seattle, but we’ve got some reservations.”

“This wouldn’t be an expansion,” Adam reminded the smooth man in the expensive suit. This was a point they’d haggled over before. “I’ll own the majority of the hotel. Your capital will be returned, with interest in the amount specified in ten years.” He flipped to page six of his proposal and slid it across the table.

Brodie lit up, scanned the neatly typed paragraphs, then flipped through the remaining pages of the contract. He shot a stream of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. “Right, right,” he said thoughtfully. “But for the next ten years we would be part owners of your hotel.”

“That’s right,” Adam replied, managing a tense smile. God, he hated this kind of politics. Depending upon other people, wealthy men, to finance his business operation. The thought of being tied to anyone bothered him. That was his problem. Bucking authority. Refusing to bend to the power of the almighty dollar.

So why was he here?

Because he had no choice. Victor Montgomery had seen to that.

At the thought of Montgomery and especially the lowlifes who worked for him, Adam’s blood boiled for revenge. He forced his thoughts back to the present.

Brodie, eyeing him still, thumped on the contract with one manicured finger. “This looks good, Drake. Only a couple of clauses to reword, but what’s really bothering me—” he blew more smoke to the ceiling and squinted at Adam, sizing him up for the thousandth time “—is what happened at Montgomery Inns last year…”

There it was. The noose again. The rope that would strangle him.

Adam felt the tension in the room. Be cool, he told himself, not showing a flicker of emotion though the sweat was running down his back and his nerves were strung tight as piano wire. “I was never charged with embezzling,” he said evenly. His eyes moved from one man to the next.

“But Montgomery never hired you back,” a tiny, apprehensive man sitting to Brodie’s left, Bill Peterson, interjected. Behind glasses as thick as the bottom of a soda bottle, Peterson’s nervous gaze shifted to each of the other men around the table.

“I didn’t want to go back,” Adam stated. That much was true. He’d never work for a snake like Montgomery again, though he itched to know who had set him up. The memory was still painful. Once, he’d respected Victor Montgomery and he’d thought the older man had felt the same for him. Stupid, he chided himself silently. Victor had shown his true colors and fired Adam swiftly, pressing charges against him, then, when there was no indictment, sending a severance check to him through his lawyer—through his damned lawyer! Victor hadn’t even had the guts to face Adam himself. Only the lawyer had been witness to Adam’s wrath and stared in uncomfortable silence as Adam had ripped up the check and tossed the confetti-like scraps into the air.

Brodie’s voice brought him back to the present. “Look, Drake, before we go into direct competition with Victor Montgomery, I think we should clear this matter up. The way I hear it, there wasn’t evidence enough to indict you, and yet the money that was skimmed off the Puget West project was never located.”

The collar around Adam’s neck felt tight, the blood thundered through his veins. The money had just vanished. No amount of going over the books had uncovered the missing cash. And in that respect, he was, as project coordinator, responsible.

“That’s what we don’t understand,” Peterson said, while the third partner, a silent man with flat features, said nothing. “There should have been a trail. How could anyone have walked away with—what was it? Half a million dollars?”

Adam nodded tightly, though he hoped his expression was calm. “Five hundred sixty-three thousand and change.”

The silent man whistled.

“That must have taken some doing,” Brodie said, stuffing his copy of the proposal into his briefcase.

“I wouldn’t know,” Adam responded dryly.

Brodie’s brows jerked up as he jabbed out his cigarette in the hotel ashtray. Apparently he didn’t believe Adam. “You have to understand our position. We can’t very well hand over several million dollars until we’re absolutely certain that what happened over at Montgomery Inns won’t happen to us.” He offered Adam a regretful smile. “If you could ever clear up exactly what happened over there, then maybe we could talk business. In the meantime, I don’t think we have a deal.”

The other men nodded in silent agreement. Adam didn’t blame them. If he were in their shoes he wouldn’t trust a man who’d nearly been indicted for embezzling, a man still proclaimed a thief by one of the largest hotel chains on the west coast. Trouble was, Adam was sick of being a scapegoat.

Pushing himself upright, Adam pulled together a grim smile and shook each man’s outstretched hand. He watched as Brodie shepherded the small group from the room. Only when the door slammed shut behind the Californians did he let out a series of invectives that would have made a sailor blush. He yanked off his tie and threw it over the back of a chair, then loosened the top buttons of his stiff white shirt. What had he expected? This meeting had been no different than the two others he’d put together.

Face it, Drake, he told himself, you were convicted even though you were never tried. With leashed fury, he knew that the black stain on his reputation wouldn’t disappear with time. No, he had to find out who had set him up and why. Otherwise, he was finished.

He had his suspicions, of course. There were several people with whom he’d worked at Montgomery Inns who had been jealous of his rapid rise in the corporation, a few who were desperate, and still others who were just plain greedy. Any one of those people could have set him up to take the fall. And fall he had. Once one of Victor Montgomery’s golden boys, he was now the black sheep. The Judas.

Until he could prove himself completely blameless, he would never be able to set himself up in business. As he saw it, he had no choice. He had to do some digging and find out just who had hated him enough to frame him for embezzling money he’d never seen. For the past year he’d tried to put the damned incident behind him, but it kept rising like a phoenix from the ashes of his career at Montgomery Inns, to torment and thwart him. Fortunately, he’d already started an investigation to prove his innocence once and for all.

“Quitting?” Victor’s eyebrows shot up, and he stared at his only child in disbelief. He’d just walked into the office and found Marnie sitting, waiting, in one of the client chairs. Then she’d lowered the bomb. “Have you gone out of your mind?”

Marnie dropped her letter of resignation on his desk. This scene with her father was going to be worse than she’d imagined. Her father was shocked. Pain showed from his blue eyes, pain at the thought of her betrayal.

“Why for God’s sake? And just what do you think you’re going to do?” he demanded, slamming his golf bag into a corner closet, then ripping off his plaid cap and sailing it across the office in frustration.

Marnie opened her mouth to answer, but her father wasn’t finished raving. “You can’t quit! You’re my daughter, for crying out loud!” He mopped the sweat from his brow and stuffed his handkerchief into the pocket of his golf slacks.

Marnie had been waiting for him for half the day. She wasn’t about to back down now. She’d spent too many hours arguing with herself and gathering her courage to give in.

“I’m serious, Dad,” she said quietly, her voice firm. “This is just something I need to do.”

“Bull!” Her father crossed the thick expanse of putty-colored carpet and glanced at the calendar lying open on his huge mahogany desk. He flipped through the pages while Marnie surveyed his office with jaded eyes.

Opulent, befitting the reigning monarch of a hotel empire, the suite boasted inlaid cherry-wood walls. Brass lamps, etchings, sculptures and buttery leather furniture added to the effect. Behind the office, a private bath with a Jacuzzi, a walk-in wardrobe and king-size bedroom, were available whenever Victor was too busy to drive home.

Grabbing the receiver in one hand, Victor punched a series of buttons on the phone. “Kate?” he barked, still flipping through his appointment book. “Cancel my two o’clock with Ferguson—no, on second thought—just stall him. Ask him to meet me at the site tomorrow at—” he ran his finger down a page “—ten thirty.” Scowling across the room at Marnie, he added, “Just tell him that something important came up, something to do with the opening of the Puget West hotel.”

Marnie refused to meet the anger in his eyes and stared instead through the bank of windows in his office. Glimpses of the rolling gray waters of Puget Sound were barely visible through the tall spires of Seattle’s skyline. Thick pewter-colored clouds blocked the sun and threatened rain. A jet, headed north, was nearly invisible through the low-hanging clouds.

She heard her father slam down the phone. “Okay, let’s get out of here,” he said, and dropped the letter of resignation she’d worked so hard to write into his wastebasket.

“Can’t we talk here?”

Grabbing his keys, Victor shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

Then she understood. Shoving her arms through the sleeves of her coat, she asked, “Do you still really think you’ve got some spies in the company?”

“Don’t know.”

“I thought all that was taken care of when you fired Adam Drake.”

Her father jammed a hat onto his head. “And I thought you were convinced he was innocent.”

“He was,” she said flatly. “He got off, remember?”

“He just had a damned good attorney,” Victor grumbled, snagging his jacket from the back of his chair. “But that’s over and done with.”

“Then why’re you still paranoid?”

“I’m not paranoid,” he snapped. “Just careful. Come on, I’ve got to check things out at the marina, see that the repairs on the Vanessa are up to snuff. We can talk on the way.”

“Okay,” she muttered, barely holding on to her temper. “But you can’t just toss my resignation into the trash and expect me to forget all about it. I’m serious, Dad.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said quietly.

The firmness in her tone must have caught his attention. His head snapped up and for the first time since he’d entered the office, he seemed to see her as she really was. His lips pursed tightly and beneath his tan his skin took on a paler hue. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice much lower.

He didn’t even bother changing from his casual pants and sports coat.

In tense silence they strode abreast through the corridors to the elevator. Marnie barely kept herself from quaking at his anger. He was a handsome man, a man who accepted authority easily. His features were oversized, his hair thick and white with only a few remaining dark strands, his eyes intense blue, his nose aristocratic. For a man pushing sixty he was in good shape, with only the trace of a paunch near his waist-line. And right now he was beginning to seethe.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” he said when the elevator doors had whispered shut and with a lurch the car sped down sixteen floors only to jerk to a stop at the subterranean parking lot.

“I just think it’s time I stood on my own.”

“All of a sudden?”

She slid a glance in his direction. “It’s been coming on a long time.”

“Ever since that business with Drake,” he surmised with disgust.

“Before that,” she insisted, though it was true that nothing had been the same since Adam Drake had been fired. There had been a change in attitude in the offices of Montgomery Inns. Nothing tangible. Just a loss of company spirit and confidence. Everyone felt it—including Victor, though, of course, he was loathe to admit it.

“And then you decided to break up with Kent,” her father went on, shaking his head as he searched the pocket of his jacket for his pipe. “And now you want to leave the corporation, just walk away from a fortune. When I was your age, I was—”

“—working ten-hour days and still going to night school, I know,” Marnie cut in. Her heels clicked loudly against the concrete. Low-hanging pipes overhead dripped condensation, and she had to duck to escape the steady drops as she hurried to keep up with her father’s swift strides.

She stopped at the fender of Victor’s Jaguar. He unlocked the doors and they both slid into the cushy interior.

“You should be grateful…”

Marnie closed her eyes. How could she explain the feeling that she was trapped? That she needed a life of her own? That she had to prove herself by standing on her own two feet? “I am grateful, Dad. Really.” Turning to face him, she forced a wan smile. “This is just something I have to do—”

“Right now? Can’t it wait?” he asked, as if sensing her beginning to weaken.

“No.”

“But the new hotel is opening next week. I need you there. You’re in charge of public relations, for God’s sake.”

“And I have a capable assistant. You remember Todd Byers—blond, wears glasses—”

Victor waved off her explanation.

“Well, if he’s not good enough I have a whole department to cover for me.” That was what bothered her most. She didn’t feel needed. If she walked away from Montgomery Inns, no one, save Victor, would notice. Even Kent would get by without her.

Her father fired up the engine and shoved the Jag into reverse. “I don’t understand you anymore.” With a flip of the steering wheel, he headed for the exit. “What is it you really want?”

“A life of my own.”

“You have one. A life most women would envy.”

“I know,” she admitted, her spine stiffening a bit. How could she reach a man who had worked all his life creating an empire? A man who had raised her alone, a man who loved her as much as he possibly could? “This is just something I have to do.”

He waved to the lot’s attendant, then nosed the Jag into the busy streets of downtown Seattle. “A few weeks ago you were planning to marry Kent,” he pointed out as he joined the traffic easing toward the waterfront. Marnie felt a familiar stab of pain. “But now, all of a sudden, Kent’s not good enough. It doesn’t matter that he’s practically my right-hand man—”

“No, it doesn’t,” she said swiftly. Surprisingly, her voice was still steady.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened between you two?” he suggested. “It’s all tied up with this whole new independence kick, isn’t it?”

Marnie didn’t answer. She didn’t want to think about Kent, nor the fact that she’d found him with Dolores Tate, his secretary. Rather than dwell on Kent’s betrayal, Marnie stared at the car ahead of them. Two fluffy Persian cats slept on the back window ledge and a bright red bumper sticker near the back plates asked, Have You Hugged Your Cat Today?

Funny, she thought sarcastically, she hadn’t hugged anyone in a long, long while. And no one had hugged her. At that thought a lump settled in her throat, and she wrapped her arms around herself, determined not to cry. Not today. Not on this, the very first step toward her new life.

Victor switched lanes, jockeying for position as traffic clogged. “While we’re on the subject of Kent—”

“We’re not.”

“He loves you.”

Marnie knew better. “Let’s just leave Kent out of this, okay?”

For once, her father didn’t argue. Rubbing the back of his neck he shook his head, as if he could release some of the tension tightening his shoulder blades. He slid her a sidelong glance as they turned into the marina. Fishing boats, sloops, yachts and cabin cruisers were tied to the piers. Whitecaps dotted the surface of the restless sound, and only a few sailing vessels braved the overcast day. Lumbering tankers moved slowly inland, while ferries churned frothy wakes, cutting through the dark water as they crossed the water.

Her father parked the Jag near the pier and cut the engine. “I can see I’m not going to change your mind,” he said, slanting her a glance that took in the thrust of her jaw and the determination in her gaze. As if finally accepting the fact that she was serious, he snorted, “God knows I don’t understand it, but if you think you’ve got to leave the company for a while, I’ll try to muddle through without you.”

“For a while?” she countered. “I resigned, remember?”

He held up his hands, as if in surrender. “One step at a time, okay? Let’s just call this…sabbatical…of yours, a leave of absence.”

She wanted to argue, but didn’t. Maybe he needed time to adjust. Her leaving, after all, was as hard on him as it was on her.

Her expression softened, and she touched his arm. “You and Montgomery Inns will survive.”

“Lord, I hope so,” he murmured. “But I’m not accepting anything official like a resignation. And I want you to wait just a couple of weeks, until Puget West opens. That’s not too much to ask, is it?” he queried, pocketing his keys as they both climbed out of the car.

Together, hands shoved in the pockets of their coats, they walked quickly along the time-weathered planks of the waterfront. Marnie breathed in the scents of the marina. She’d grown up around boats, and the odors of salt and seaweed, brine and diesel brought back happy childhood memories of when her father had taken as much interest in her as he had in his company. Things had changed, of course. She’d gone to college, hadn’t needed him so much, and Montgomery Inns had developed into a large corporation with hotels stretched as far away as L.A. and Houston.

A stiff breeze snapped the flags on the moored vessels. High overhead sea gulls wheeled, their desolate cries barely audible over the sounds of throbbing engines. Free, she thought, smiling at the birds, they’re free. And lonely.

Her father grumbled, “Next thing I know you’ll be trading in your Beemer for a ‘69 Volkswagen.”

She smothered a sad smile. He didn’t know that she’d sold the BMW just last week, though she wasn’t in the market for a VW bug—well, at least not yet.

“So it’s settled, right?” he said, as if grateful to have finished a drawn-out negotiation. “When you get back, we’ll talk.”

“And if I still want to quit?”

“Then we’ll talk some more.” He fiddled in his pocket for his tobacco, stuffed a wad into the bowl of his pipe, and clamping the pipe between his teeth, searched in his pockets for a match. Trying to light the pipe, he walked quickly down the pier where his yacht, the Vanessa, was docked. “Maybe by the time you think things over, you’ll come to your senses about Kent.”

“I already have,” she said, controlling the fury that still burned deep inside her. Kent had played her for a fool; he wouldn’t get a second chance.

“Okay, okay, just promise me you’ll stick around until the new hotel is open.”

“It’s a promise,” she said, catching up to him. “But you’re not talking me out of this. As soon as Puget West opens its doors, I’m history.”

“For a while.” He puffed on the pipe, sending up tiny clouds of smoke.

“Maybe,” she said, unwilling to concede too much. Her father wasn’t a bad man, just determined, especially when it came to her and his hotel chain. But she could be just as stubborn as he. She climbed aboard his favorite plaything as the wind off the sound whipped her hair in front of her face. Someday, whether he wanted to or not, Victor Montgomery would be proud of her for her independence; he just didn’t know it yet. She’d prove to him, and everyone else who thought she was just another pampered rich girl, that she could make it on her own.

According to the Seattle Observer, the grand opening of Puget West Montgomery Inn was to be the social event of the year. Invitations had been sent to the rich and the beautiful, from New York to L.A., though most of the guests were from the Pacific Northwest.

The mayor of Seattle as well as Senator Mann, the State of Washington’s reigning Republican, were to attend. Local celebrities, the press and a few Hollywood types were rumored to be on hand to sip champagne and congratulate Victor Montgomery on the latest and most glittery link in the ever-expanding chain of Montgomery Inns.

Adam Drake wasn’t invited.

In fact, he was probably the last person good old Victor wanted to see walk through the glass doors of the main lobby. But Victor was in for the surprise of his life, Adam thought with a grim smile. Because Adam wouldn’t have missed the grand opening of Puget West for the world!

As the prow of his small boat sliced through the night-blackened waters of Puget Sound, he guided the craft toward his destination, the hotel itself. Lit like the proverbial Christmas tree, twenty-seven stories of Puget West rose against a stygian sky.

Wind ripped over the water, blasting his bare face and hands, but Adam barely felt the cold. He was too immersed in his own dark thoughts. Anger tightened a knot in his gut. He’d helped design this building; hell, he’d even outbid a Japanese investor for the land, all for the sake of Montgomery Inns and Victor Montgomery!

And he’d been kicked in the face for his efforts—framed for a crime he’d never committed. Well, he’d just spent the past three weeks of his life dredging up all the evidence again, talking with even the most obscure employees who had once worked for the company, and he’d started to unravel the web of lies, one string at a time. He didn’t have all the answers, just vague suspicions, but he was hell-bent to prove them true. Only then would he be able to get on with his own life.

And never again would he depend upon a man like Victor Montgomery for his livelihood. From this point on, Adam intended to be his own boss.

Close to the docks, Adam cut the boat’s engine and slung ropes around the moorings. Before he could second-guess himself, he hopped onto the new deck and walked briskly beneath the Japanese lanterns glowing red, green and orange. Tiny crystal lights, twinkling as if it were the holiday season instead of the end of May, winked in the shrubbery.

His jaw tightened, and a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he considered his reasons for showing up uninvited. Adrenaline surged through his veins. What was the phrase—revenge was always best when it was served up cold?

He’d soon find out.

Nearly a year had passed since he’d been hung by his heels in public, humiliated and stripped bare, and tonight he’d seek his own form of justice.

Thunder cracked over the angry waters, and Adam cast one final look at the inky sound. He found poetic justice in the fact that a spring storm was brewing on the night Victor Montgomery was opening his latest resort.

He didn’t waste any time. The pant legs of his tuxedo brushed against the wet leaves of blossoming rhododendrons and azaleas as he walked briskly, moving instinctively toward the side entrance and the French doors he knew would be unlocked and, with any luck, unguarded.

Music and laughter floated through the night as he stepped onto the terrace. Through the open doors, he saw that the party was in full swing, bejeweled guests talking, dancing, laughing and drinking from monogrammed fluted glasses.

Adam tugged on his tight black tie, plowed his fingers through his wind-tossed hair, then slipped into the opulent foyer. No one seemed to notice. As a liveried waiter passed, Adam snagged a glass of champagne from a silver tray and scoped out the milling guests.

A piano player sat at a shiny baby grand, and the nostalgic notes of “As Time Goes By” drifted through the crowd. Silver and red balloons, tied together with long white ribbons, floated dreamily to the windowed ceiling four stories above the foyer. Near the back wall a glass elevator carried guests to the balconies surrounding the lobby, and on the opposite wall an elegant staircase curved upward to the second story. In the center of the room, the trademark Montgomery fountain, complete with marble base, spouted water eight feet high.

Oh, yes, this hotel was just as grand as Victor Montgomery had envisioned it, the opening party already a success. Adam tamped down any trace of bitterness as he wandered through the crowd. It took a cool mind to get even.

In one corner of the lobby near a restaurant, a ten-foot ice sculpture of King Neptune, trident aloft, sea monsters curling in the waves near his feet, stood guard.

Just like good old Victor, Adam thought to himself as he spied Kate Delany, Victor’s administrative assistant and, as rumor had it, lover. Dressed in shimmering white, her dark hair piled high on her head, Kate acted as hostess. Her smile was practiced but friendly, and her eyes sparkled enough to invite conversation as she drifted from one knot of guests to the next.

Scanning the crowd, Adam decided Victor hadn’t made his grand entrance yet. Nor had his daughter. He looked again, hoping for a glimpse of Marnie. Spoiled, rich, beautiful Marnie Montgomery was the one possession Victor valued more than his damned hotels. An only child, she’d been pampered, sent to the best schools and given the post of “public-relations administrator” upon graduation from some Ivy League school back east.

Despite his bitterness toward anything loosely associated with Montgomery Inns, Adam had found Marnie appealing. Regardless of her lap-of-leisure upbringing, there had been something—a spark of laughter in her eyes, a trace of wistfulness in her smile, an intelligence in her wit and a mystique to her silences—which had half convinced him that she was more than just another rich brat coddled by an overindulgent father and raised by nannies. Tall and slender, with pale blond hair and eyes a clear crystal blue, Marnie was as hauntingly beautiful as she was wealthy. And as he understood it, she’d become engaged to Kent Simms, one of Victor’s “yes” men.

Bad choice, Marnie, Adam thought as he took a long swallow of champagne. Maybe he’d been kidding himself all along. Marnie Montgomery was probably cut from the same expensive weave of cloth as was her father.

Kent Simms fit into the picture neatly. Too ambitious for his own good, Kent was more interested in the fast lane and big bucks than in loving a wife. Even if she happened to be the boss’s daughter. The marriage wouldn’t last.

But Kent Simms was Marnie’s problem. Adam had his own.

He heard a gasp behind him. From the corner of his eye he caught the quickly averted look of a wasp-thin woman with dark eyes and a black velvet dress.

So she recognizes me, he thought in satisfaction, and lifted his champagne glass in silent salute to her. Her name was Rose Trullinger, and she was an interior decorator for the corporation.

Rose’s cheeks flooded with color, and she turned quickly away before casting a sharp glance over her shoulder and heading toward a group of eight or nine people lingering around the bar.

Adam watched as she whispered something to a woman draped in blue silk and dripping with diamonds. The woman in blue turned, lifted a finely arched brow and sent Adam a curious look. There was more than mild amusement in her eyes. Adam noticed an invitation. Some women were attracted to men who were considered forbidden or dangerous. The woman in blue was obviously one of those.

She whispered something to Rose.

Perfect, Adam thought with a grim twist of his lips. It wouldn’t be long before Victor knew he was here.

Chapter Two

Marnie jabbed a glittery comb into her hair, then glowered at her reflection as the comb slid slowly down. Shaking her head, she yanked out the comb and tossed it onto the vanity. So much for glamour. She brushed her shoulder-length curls with a vengeance and eyed the string of diamonds and sapphires surrounding her throat. The necklace and matching earrings had been her mother’s; Victor had pleaded with her to wear them and she had, on this, the last night of her employment at Montgomery Inns. Just being in the new hotel made her feel like a hypocrite, but she only had a few more hours and, then, freedom!

“Marnie?” Her father tapped softly on the door connecting her smaller bedroom to the rest of his suite. “It’s about time.”

“I’ll be right out,” she replied, dreading the party. On the bed, a single suitcase lay open. She tossed her comb, brush and makeup bag into the soft-sided case and snapped it shut.

Sliding into a pair of silver heels, she opened the door to find her father, a drink in one hand, pacing near the door. He glanced up as she entered the room, and the smile that creased his face was filled with genuine admiration. He swallowed and blinked. “I really hadn’t realized how much you look like Vanessa,” he said quietly.

Marnie felt an inner glow. He was complimenting her. Her father had never gotten over his wife and he’d vowed on her grave that he’d never remarry. And he hadn’t. Even though Kate Delany had been in love with him for years, he wouldn’t marry her. Marnie knew it as well as she knew she herself would never marry Kent Simms.

He reached for the door but paused. “Kent’s already here.”

“I know.”

“He’s been asking to see you.”

She knew that, too. But she was through talking to Kent about anything other than business. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”

Victor tugged on his lower lip as if weighing his next words. Marnie braced herself. She knew what was coming. “Kent loves you, and he’s been with the company for ten years. That man is loyal.”

“To Montgomery Inns.”

“Well, that’s something. The years he’s worked for me—”

“If longevity with Montgomery Inns has anything to do with my future husband, then I should marry Fred Ainger.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her father scoffed, leaving his glass on a table near the door, but Marnie could tell her comment had hit its mark. Fred Ainger, a tiny bespectacled accountant in bookkeeping, was about to retire at age sixty-five. He’d been with Montgomery Inns since Victor had purchased his first hotel.

“Okay, okay. We both know that Kent’s time with the company doesn’t really matter when you’re choosing a husband,” her father reluctantly agreed, smoothing his hair with the flat of his hand. He looked out the window to the city of Port Stanton flanking the banks of the sound. Smaller than Seattle, Tacoma or Olympia, Port Stanton, as gateway to the sound, was growing by leaps and bounds, and Montgomery Inns was ready and waiting with the Puget West as the city required more hotels for businessmen and travelers. “But Kent is loyal to the company.”

Bully for Kent, she thought, but held her tongue on that point. “I’d rather have a husband who’s committed to me.”

“For what it’s worth, I believe Kent is committed to you, honey.”

Marnie knew differently. She also realized that she was going to have to tell her father why she was so adamant about rejecting Kent, or her father would badger her forever. In Victor’s eyes, Kent was the perfect son-in-law. “I didn’t love him, Dad.” That much wasn’t a lie, though she’d convinced herself during the duration of their engagement that she had. “Kent wasn’t the man for me. He was your choice, not mine.”

For a few seconds Victor didn’t speak, and Marnie could almost hear the gears whirling in his mind. Her father didn’t back down quickly.

He made a big show of glancing at his watch and pursing his lips. “Come on,” he said, his keen eyes glinting. “Let’s go downstairs. We can talk about Kent later.”

Marnie shook her head. “You can talk about him later. I’m done.”

Victor held up a hand to forestall any further arguments. “Whatever you say. It’s your life.”

Marnie wasn’t fooled, and cast him a glance that told him so.

Victor held open the door for her, and Marnie stepped onto the balcony. The sounds of the party drifted up the four flights from the lobby. Even from this distance she recognized a few employees of the hotel chain, dancing or laughing with guests who had been sent special invitations, the chosen few who mattered in the Northwest—the mayor of Seattle and Senator Mann, several city council members as well as reporters for local television and newspapers. There were only a few faces Marnie didn’t recognize.

All of Seattle’s social elite had come to Puget West, drinking and laughing and showing off their most expensive gowns and jewelry, hoping that their names and pictures might find a way into the society columns of the Seattle Observer and the Port Stanton Herald.

Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, Marnie stepped into the glass elevator, her father at her side. As the car descended, she stared through the windows, noticing the lights in the trees in the lobby, the ice sculpture of King Neptune and the three-tiered fountain of champagne wedged between tables laden with hors d’oeuvres. A pianist was playing from a polished ebony piano where a man listened, a handsome man, she guessed from the back of him. She noticed the wide breadth of his shoulders, the narrowing of his hips, the way his wavy black hair gleamed under a thousand winking lights.

There was something familiar about him, something about his stance, that brought back hazy memories. He turned to reach for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and as the elevator doors opened, Marnie found herself staring across the room. A pair of mocking, gold-brown eyes met hers, and she nearly missed a step.

Adam Drake!

What in God’s name was he doing here? Didn’t the man have a sense of decency, or at the very least, an ounce of self-preservation? Her father would love to have a chance to throw him out of the hotel! Even though he’d been proved innocent of the charges Victor had leveled against him, Adam Drake was definitely on her father’s ten-least-wanted list.

Adam didn’t seem concerned. A slow, self-mocking smile stretched across his jaw as his gaze collided with hers. He winked lazily at her, then took a long swallow from his champagne.

Marnie almost grinned. She’d forgotten about his irreverence, his lack of concern for playing by society’s unwritten laws. Well, he’d really done himself in this time. Though she’d never really believed that he was a thief, there was a side to him that suggested danger, and she wondered just how much he knew about the half million dollars skimmed from the funds to build this very hotel. The guy had nerve, she’d grant him that!

Amused, she turned to see if her father had noticed their uninvited guest, but a crowd of well-wishers suddenly engulfed them. Victor tugged on Marnie’s arm, pulling her along as he wended his way to the circular fountain and stepped onto the marble base, hauling her up with him. Newspaper reporters followed, elbowing and jostling to thrust microphones into Victor’s face. Cameras flashed before her eyes as photographers clicked off dozens of pictures.

Victor laughed and answered each question crisply. Her father was always at his best in front of a crowd, but Marnie was uncomfortable in the spotlight. She tried to slip away unnoticed. However, Senator Mann, always hungry for press, fought his way through the throng to stand at her father’s side, blocking Marnie’s exit. Even Kent appeared. Predictably, he wended quickly through the tightening group to take his place next to her. She was trapped!

Gazing up at Kent’s even, practiced smile, Marnie decided this wasn’t the time to bring up the fact that Adam Drake had somehow turned up uninvited.

“Hi,” Kent whispered, flashing a thousand-watt grin at her, though Marnie suspected the smile was for the press. He tried to slide his arm around her waist.

Marnie sidestepped him and somehow managed to keep her balance. “Don’t,” she warned.

“Come on, Marnie,” he cajoled. “Just try to be reasonable—at least for appearances’ sake.”

“I can’t—”

“Kent! Congratulations!” Mayor Winthrop’s voice boomed as he approached and stretched out his hand. He was short and round, his straight gray hair painstakingly combed to cover a bald spot. “Beautiful hotel, Marnie, just beautiful!” he gushed, before turning all his attention on Victor and Kent.

Marnie managed a thin smile for the man, then, before Kent realized what she was doing, excused herself quickly and stepped into the sea of guests.

Enough with the spectacle, she thought, moving quickly away from the fountain. She had promised her father she’d show up at his party, but she wasn’t going to pretend to care about Kent. How could she have ever made the mistake of thinking she loved him? Or that he had loved her? She must’ve been desperate.

Unconsciously, she glanced back to the piano, but Adam had disappeared and the pianist, taking his cue from Victor, had stopped playing so that the mayor and other city dignitaries could publicly congratulate Victor Montgomery on another glamorous project well done.

Marnie felt little of the pride she’d experienced at the completion of other hotels. Puget West had been different from the beginning. There had been problems and delays with acquisition, zoning, planning, architecture and then, of course, the scandal. At first Adam Drake, Victor’s personal choice to supervise the project, had smoothed out the bumps, but later, when Kate Delany had discovered the errors in the books, all hell had broken loose and her father had blamed Adam for the mismanaged money.

The money had never been located. Over five hundred thousand dollars had seemed to vanish into thin air. Marnie had never believed Adam to be a thief, but no one had been able to explain what had happened to the missing funds.

Adam had never been indicted, but the public humiliation had been tremendous, the scandal reported daily in the business section of the Seattle Observer. And now he was here? Why?

Scanning the waves of people, she found Adam again. With one shoulder propped against a marble pillar, the jacket of his tux open, his tie loosened, his black hair wind-tossed, he looked rakish and self-satisfied. A small smile played on his thin, sensual lips. His eyes, dark above chiseled cheekbones, were trained on the fountain where Victor stood.

It was strange that he’d decided to come, but fitting, in a way. Adam Drake, before his downfall, had been invaluable to the company, one of the few in Victor’s small circle of advisers. Adam had been the man who had found this very piece of land on the western shore of the sound and had negotiated a very good deal for Montgomery Inns. Without Adam Drake, Puget West never would have been built.

Marnie wondered why he had risked having his reputation blackened again. The man must be certifiable.

With difficulty, she forced her gaze away from him. Unfortunately she discovered Dolores Tate, Kent’s secretary, lingering near the open bar, her wide brown eyes focused lovingly on Kent.

Marnie thought she might be sick.

Dolores didn’t notice her; she was too involved with the scene at the fountain and her own appearance. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to the springy brown curls that framed her Kewpie-doll face. Draped in a dress of gold sequins and chiffon, Dolores moved gracefully among the people near the fountain, smiling and stopping to talk with this group and that, seeming more a part of this party than Marnie felt herself.

Dolores probably was more at home here, Marnie thought as she tore her gaze away from the woman Kent had chosen as his mistress. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel any surge of jealousy, just an annoying embarrassment that she could have been duped by Kent.

Rather than dwell on Kent, Marnie half listened to her father’s prepared speech. Victor, public smile in place, was heartily thanking the community leaders for the privilege of building this “…dream-come-true on the banks of the sound for our fair community…”

On and on he went, interrupted occasionally by bursts of clapping or laughter as he related some funny anecdotes about the construction of the hotel. Marnie had heard similar speeches dozens of times before. For her father’s sake, she hoped she appeared interested, though she couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering across the expansive foyer to the pillar against which Adam leaned.

Marnie could almost feel Adam’s hostility sizzling across the room. But Victor went blithely on, unaware that the man he was sure had tried to cheat him was present.

Kate Delany, too, didn’t seem to notice Adam as she found Marnie and joined her. “Your father’s pleased,” Kate whispered into Marnie’s ear.

“He should be,” Marnie answered automatically.

“Mmm.” Kate nodded. Her auburn hair was piled in loose curls atop her head, her silk dress shimmered as it draped over one shoulder. Emerald earrings, shaped like teardrops, matched the bracelet encircling one slim wrist—gifts from Marnie’s father. The small white lines of disappointment near her lips were barely visible.

Marnie felt a pang of pity for Kate. She obviously still clung to the hope that she would someday become Mrs. Victor Montgomery.

As Victor finished, Kate slipped through the crowd toward the fountain. The guests erupted with enthusiastic applause and good wishes while photographers shot rolls of film of her father with the mayor, or senator, or with a dour-faced city councilwoman wearing a simple linen suit and an outrageous magenta hat.

Marnie slid another glance in Adam’s direction and decided it was time she found out what he was doing here. They were compatriots, in a perverse way, she thought. Neither one of them belonged here. Only Adam had shown up despite the fact that he wasn’t wanted; she, on the other hand, was wanted and would do anything to leave.

She accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and then slipped through the guests toward the one man who had the guts to defy her father.

Adam saw her coming. He’d watched as she had disentangled herself from Kent and mingled among the clusters of people. She had been smiling at her father’s jokes but not really listening. It was almost as if she were playing a part, putting in her time, and she’d cast more than one curious glance in his direction. Good.

She was beautiful, he had to admit that. Her wavy hair was pale blond, almost silver, her eyes were an intense shade of blue and even though she was often serious, Adam remembered that she laughed easily.

But she wasn’t laughing tonight. No, Miss Montgomery appeared uncomfortable with all the hoopla, though she was dressed for the occasion in a silky dress that must have cost a fortune and in diamonds that sparkled around her wrist and neck. No one would doubt that she was Victor Montgomery’s spoiled daughter.

He found it interesting that when she’d first spotted him she hadn’t run to Daddy to tell him that a traitor was in their midst. Instead, she’d appeared mildly curious and now she was walking toward him.

The ghost of a smile crossed her full lips and her eyes twinkled for just a second. “Mr. Drake,” she said, stopping just short of him.

“It’s Adam, remember?”

“Impossible to forget,” she replied, showing off a dimple. “Your name will probably be whispered in the corridors of Montgomery Inns for years. You’re a legend, you know.”

“As part of the poor and infamous?”

She plucked a shrimp canapé from a tray. “What’re you doing here? Don’t you know you’ll be drawn and quartered before the night is out? That’s what they do to party crashers.” She plopped the canape into her mouth and washed it down with a sip of champagne.

He couldn’t believe that she was actually baiting him. Adam’s mouth slashed at a sardonic angle. “And here I thought my invitation had just gotten lost in the mail.”

“Right,” Marnie replied dryly, her ice blue dress glimmering seductively under the lights. “If I were you, this is the last place I would’ve shown up.”

“Never was one to miss a party.”

“You must be a glutton for punishment. My father will flip when he finds out you’re here—and he will, you know. It won’t take long.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Why?” For the first time, the teasing glint disappeared from her eyes. She lifted her glass to her lips and appraised him solemnly over the rim.

“He and I need to talk, and he’s been dodging my calls.” Adam glanced back to the fountain-cum-podium where Victor was introducing Kent Simms and congratulating him on his promotion to executive vice president. Adam finished his drink in one gulp, as Simms accepted Victor’s hearty congratulations, shook hands with the mayor and rained a brilliant pretty-boy smile on the crowd.

“You’ve called Dad?” Marnie asked, apparently stunned.

Adam swung his gaze back to her. “Several times. Never got past Kate. Victor didn’t bother to call me back.”

“But—”

“I even stopped in at the offices. Kate ran interference. Wouldn’t let me in to see him.”

Marnie couldn’t believe it. Her father hadn’t said a word about Adam trying to contact him, and she would have thought, given Victor’s feelings about Adam Drake, he would have ranted and raved for days at the younger man’s impertinence. “What did you want to talk to him about?”

“Believe me, I have a lot to discuss with your father—or if I can’t talk to him, Simms’ll do.” He cocked his head toward the fountain. “By the way, your fiancé seems to be enjoying himself. Shouldn’t you be up there, basking in some of the glory?”

“It got a little crowded,” she said, her lips tightening.

“I noticed.”

“Adam Drake?” Kate’s voice was low and cold. When he turned, her large eyes were suspicious, the color in her cheeks high. “What do you think you’re doing here?” she whispered, then before he could answer, asked, “How did you get past security?”

“I helped design this building, remember—including the security system.”

“You bastard,” she shot back, ignoring Marnie. “You want to ruin it for him, don’t you? This is Victor’s night, and you’re going to make sure that it blows up in his face!”

“I just want to talk to him.”

“Well, you can’t. Not tonight,” she said, her features hardening. “If the press gets wind that you’re here, it’ll ruin everything! You’ve got to leave! Now!” Her voice had taken on a frantic tone that seemed to surprise Marnie as she watched the exchange in stunned silence.

“I’m not taking off just yet.”

“But why would you want to stay? It’ll just cause problems.” Kate glanced nervously toward Victor.

Marnie laid a hand on her arm. “Relax, Kate,” Marnie said, as if she, too, were trying to avoid a scene, but Kate raged on.

“Please, Adam, just go quietly, before you do something that can’t be undone and everything’s dredged up again. This is Victor’s night. Please don’t spoil it!”

“I need to talk to him.”

“But not here—”

“I tried the office,” he replied, fighting to control his anger. “You wouldn’t let me see him.”

“My mistake. Come back next week, I’ll get you an appointment,” she promised, pinning a winning smile on her face and slipping her arm through his, obviously intending to escort him to the door.

“I’ll wait, just the same.”

Frustrated, Kate stormed away in a cloud of exasperation.

“I don’t think that’s the way to win friends and influence people,” Marnie said dryly.

“I’m not very popular around here, am I?”

She grinned. “I’m afraid you’re persona non grata at Montgomery Inns. But my father still keeps your picture in his office—taped over his dart board.”

He laughed, surprised that she would joke with him. The pianist began playing again, filling the lobby with a vaguely familiar big-band hit of the forties.

“Do you want me to tell my father you’re here?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I think it would be better if you stay out of it.”

“Why?”

“It could get bloody.”

“Then I’d better be there,” she decided. “Someone—maybe you—might need a bandage.”

“And soon,” he said, spying Kent Simms, face flushed, plunging through the crowd and heading straight for Marnie. The glare in Kent’s eyes was unmistakable—the territorial pride of the spurned male.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kent demanded in a voice so low it was hard to hear over the crowd.

Adam finished his drink. “I was hoping to talk to Victor, but I guess you’ll have to do.”

“Forget it. Come on, Marnie, let’s go,” Kent ordered, grabbing her arm and propelling her toward a banquet room near the back of the lobby.

“Let go of me,” she whispered furiously, half running to keep up with his longer strides. She considered making a scene, but thought better of it. No reason to call undue attention to Adam—he’d do enough of that for himself.

In the banquet room, she whirled around and yanked her arm free of Kent’s possessive grasp. “What is it you want?”

His expression changed from anger to sadness. “You already know what I want,” he said quietly. “I just want you, Marnie.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. What did it take to make the man understand? “I already told you it’s over! I don’t need to be manhandled or made a spectacle of! Where do you get off, hauling me in here like some caveman claiming his woman?”

“Caveman?” he repeated. “Weren’t you just talking to Drake? Now there’s someone who’s primitive.” He shook his head, as if sorry that she was so dense. “You know, Marnie, sometimes you can be impossible.”

“Good!”

“You enjoy being perverse?”

“I just want you to leave me alone. I thought you understood that. If you don’t, let me make myself clear,” she said, drawing up to her full height and sending him an icy glare. “I’m sorry I ever got involved with you and I never want to see you again.”

He glanced to one of the chandeliers high overhead. “I made a mistake with Dolores.”

She didn’t respond. She’d learned that his affair with Dolores had been going on for over six months. All the time that she and Kent had been picking out china, planning a wedding, looking for a house, sailing in the boat Victor had bought them as an engagement present, Kent had been sleeping with his secretary.

“You know I still love you,” he said, and his expression was so sincere, she almost believed him. But she wasn’t a fool. Not any more. “Give me another chance,” he pleaded. “It’ll never happen again. I swear it.”

Marnie shook her head. “You can do what you damn well please, Kent. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I really did a number on you, didn’t I?”

“I prefer to think that you did me a favor.”

A light of challenge sparked in his hazel eyes. He leaned down as if to kiss her, and she ducked away. “Stop it!” she commanded, her tone frigid.

He ignored her and grabbed her quickly, yanking her hard against him. “Don’t tell me ‘no,’” he whispered, his face so close that his breath, smelling of liquor, fanned her face.

“Don’t pull this macho stuff on me!”

“You love it.” His grip tightened, and his eyes glittered in a way that frightened and sickened her. He enjoyed this fight.

Squirming, unable to wrench away, she stomped on his foot in frustration. The heel of her shoe snapped with the force. “Let go!”

Kent let out a yowl and backed up a step. “What the hell’s gotten into you?” he cried, reaching down to rub the top of his shoe, as if he could massage his wounded foot. Wincing, he turned furious eyes on her. “I thought we could work things out, you know? I thought tonight would be the perfect time. Did you see me with your father and Senator Mann? The man knew my name! God, what a rush! And I come back to share it with you—the woman I love—and what do I get?”

“Maybe you’re getting what you deserve,” Adam drawled, coming up behind Kent.

A wave of heat washed up Marnie’s neck. Oh, Lord! How much of their argument had he overheard?

Kent straightened, resting his foot gingerly on the floor as he eyed Adam. Adam was slightly taller, with harsher features, his hair a little longer, his whole demeanor laid-back and secure. Kent, on the other hand, looked military spit-and-polished, his tuxedo crisp, his hair clipped, his spine ramrod-stiff.

“I thought you were leaving,” Kent said, glowering at Adam.

“Not yet.”

Kent straightened his tie and smoothed his hair. “Does Victor know you’re here?”

Adam lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, but his features were set in stone. “I hope so.”

Instinctively, Marnie stepped closer to Adam, and Kent shot her an irritated glance, his eyes slitting. “Just what is it you want, Drake?” he demanded, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his pants and angling his face upward to meet Adam’s hard glare. “Why don’t you just leave?”

“Not until I ask Victor if he knows who Gerald Henderson is?”

“Henderson?” Kent repeated, his expression so bland it had to be false. “Didn’t he work for us?”

“In accounting,” Adam clarified.

“I remember him,” Marnie interjected, refusing to be left out of the conversation. “He left because he had health problems—asthma, I think. He had to leave the damp Northwest. And he got a better job with a hotel in San Diego.”

“Still lives in Seattle,” Adam replied. “Spends a lot of time fishing. If I’m not wrong, I think he’s drawing some sort of disability or retirement.”

Marnie glanced from one stern face to the other. “Didn’t the job in California work out?”

“Who cares?” Kent replied. “Henderson’s history.”

“Maybe,” Adam said, and the undercurrents in his voice jarred her. She was missing something in this conversation, something important.

Kent swallowed. “I don’t think Victor would be interested,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

“Not even if Gerald had an idea about the missing funds?”

“What?” Marnie demanded, shocked.

“It’s nothing,” Kent snapped. “Henderson couldn’t possibly know—”

“Adam Drake?” Judith Marx, a reporter for the Seattle Observer who had obviously seen some of the hubbub, walked briskly into the banquet room. “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said, her eyes taking in the scene in one quick glance.

The understatement of the year, Marnie thought.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Adam drawled.

“Can I quote you?” she asked.

“No!” Kent cut in, his face flushed, a vein throbbing near his temple. “Mr. Drake is an uninvited guest, and if you print that I’ll march over to the Observer and talk to John Forrester myself!”

“Mr. Forrester would never suppress news,” the woman replied smartly.

Kent whirled on Adam, his voice low. “Whatever it is you want, Drake, it can wait until later.”

By now, more than a few guests had drifted into the room. Kent was beginning to squirm. Whispers began to float around them, like tiny wisps of fog that lingered for a second, then drifted by.

“Mr. Drake?” Judith Marx obviously smelled a story. She wasn’t about to give up. “I thought you vowed vengeance against this company.”

“What I said was that I’d prove my innocence.”

From the corner of his eye, Adam saw Kent motioning with a finger to a beefy security guard in the doorway.

“Wasn’t that all taken care of?” Judith asked Adam, and he turned his attention back to the reporter. “You weren’t even indicted.” She reached into her bag for her pocket recorder. Kent glanced across the room, nodding to the two guards making their way inside.

Adam was ready for the two sets of hands that collared him and firmly guided him through a back door connecting the banquet room to the kitchen. He didn’t struggle. There was no point. Obviously Victor hadn’t seen him, or had decided to leave his dirty work to Kent. Either way, Adam wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. But his next move would be more subtle. Hauling him through the service entrance, the security guards deposited him roughly on the wet asphalt near a delivery truck.

One of the two guards, a big bear of a man with sandy hair and a flat face, muttered under his breath. “Still gettin’ yourself into trouble, ain’t’cha?” Sam Dillinger had worked with Adam for years before the scandal.

“Looks that way, Sam.” Adam brushed himself off as he stood. He managed a grim smile.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Drake. You know, I never believed you were involved in any of that thievin’.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

The other guard, a thickset man with short salt-and-pepper hair, snorted. He fingered the pistol strapped to his belt. “Don’t show up here again,” he warned. “Just haul your butt out of here and don’t come back!”

“Be sure to tell Mr. Simms he hasn’t seen the last of me,” Adam said to Jim before sketching a wave to Sam. “See ya around, Sam.”

“You bet, Mr. Drake. Good luck to you.”

But Adam wasn’t counting on luck as he left the two guards arguing about his guilt. He ducked his head against the rain that slanted from the pitch-black sky.

The dock was slick, the wind raw and cold as he strode purposefully back to his boat. Now that he’d come face-to-face with Kent Simms again, he realized that nothing had changed. And since he didn’t have any proof other than Gerald Henderson’s side of the story, he couldn’t very well make accusations that could end up as slander. But from his reaction tonight, Adam was sure Simms knew more than he was telling. Adam had suspected Kent might be involved in the embezzling, of course, but he’d suspected a lot of people within the company.

Now, he decided, he’d start with Simms. He didn’t like the way the guy was manhandling Marnie, and the thought of giving Kent a little of his own back caused Adam to smile.

So, his next step would be to have a little chat with Kent before he tackled Victor. The more information he could lay at Montgomery’s feet, the better. And somehow, he sensed, Kent could tell him a lot.

Fortunately meeting Kent Simms face-to-face would be a simple matter. The Marnie Lee, a gleaming white cabin cruiser, and Simms’s personal vessel, was moored on the second dock.

Adam wasted no time. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the two guards were still watching as he stepped into his small boat. Unleashing the moorings, he settled behind the wheel and gunned the engine. The boat took off, churning a white wake as the engine roared loudly and he headed toward Seattle.

Twenty minutes later, when he was sure the guards were satisfied that he’d left the shores of Port Stanton and had returned to their posts in the hotel lobby, Adam circled back toward the Puget West and the docks where gleaming vessels rolled with the tide.

He wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. Adam intended to board the Marnie Lee and wait in the cabin to have it out with Simms once and for all. As he spotted the showy white vessel he thought of her namesake, the lady herself, Marnie Lee Montgomery. How could a woman as bright as Marnie obviously was link up with a loser like Simms?

It was a mystery, he thought, then he remembered the tail end of their fight and decided that all was not bliss in the relationship between Victor Montgomery’s strong-willed daughter and the man she’d chosen for a husband.

Adam felt a twinge of conscience as he lashed his boat to the dock, then climbed stealthily aboard Simms’s expensive cabin cruiser. He didn’t want to hurt Marnie; she’d always played fair with him. Though she’d been raised in the lap of luxury and been given anything she’d ever wanted, she seemed sincere.

Don’t forget she’s engaged to Simms. Even if they did have a lovers’ quarrel, they were, as far as he knew, still planning to marry. That thought left a sour taste in the back of his throat, but he ignored it. Marnie’s fate was just too damned bad. Any woman who gave her heart to a jerk like Simms deserved what she got.

Marnie couldn’t believe her ears! The minute Adam was escorted out of the hotel, Kent turned the interview with the reporter around and now, with his arm wrapped securely around Marnie’s waist, he was confiding in the woman that Marnie and he were making plans to marry in mid-September.

“Congratulations!” Judith said, snapping her small tape recorder on. “What day is that, the sixteenth—seventeenth?”

“No!” Marnie cried, aghast. What had gotten into Kent? In all the years she’d known him he’d never been so bull-headed or downright stupid.

Kent’s fingers tightened around her. “What she means is that we’re not completely certain on the date. We’ve still got to accommodate everyone in the family—”

“What I mean is that there isn’t going to be a wedding!” Marnie declared firmly, plucking Kent’s fingers off her and stepping away from him. “Kent and I aren’t getting married, not in September. Not ever.”

“But—” Judith looked from one to the other.

Kent lifted his hands and shrugged, as if Marnie’s announcement came as a complete surprise to him. He acted as if she were just some fickle female who couldn’t decide what she wanted, for God’s sake!

“You explain this!” Marnie commanded, her voice as cold as a winter day. Shaking with rage, she turned on the reporter. “I’d better not read about any wedding in your paper. Not one word!” Spine stiff, she marched straight through the banquet-room doors and to the elevator in the lobby.

Pounding on the button for the fourth floor, she bit her tongue so that the invectives forming in her throat would be kept inside. The elevator doors shut softly, cutting off the sounds of the party, and the car ascended. Furious, her insides shaking with anger, Marnie leaned her forehead against the cool glass. “Calm down,” she ordered to herself. “Don’t let that bastard get to you!”

The elevator stopped and she stepped through the opening doors, storming into her father’s suite. What was Kent trying to do? He’d been acting strangely all night! How had she ever been foolish enough to think she wanted to marry him?

She stalked into the smaller bedroom. Her suitcase, packed and waiting, was where she’d left it near the foot of the bed. Good. She peeled off her gown, threw her jewelry into a case and stuffed the velvet box back into her father’s safe.

By the time Victor knocked softly on the door to her room, she had changed into faded jeans, a sweatshirt and a down-lined jacket. “Marnie? You in here?”

“For the moment.”

He opened the door and shook his head at the sight of her. “And where do you think you’re going?”

She sent him a chilling glance. “I’m leaving. Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” he said, holding out his palms as if to forestall an argument, “but I thought you might change your mind and wait a bit. Kent just told me he had Adam Drake thrown out of the party while I was wrapped up with Senator Mann. God only knows what’s going to be in the papers tomorrow! I need you to talk to the press—”

“I just did.” Marnie wasn’t about to be sidetracked by her father’s ploy. “That was a dirty trick, Dad,” she said, yanking her suitcase onto the bed and snapping it open to double-check the contents.

“What?”

Satisfied that she’d packed everything she needed, she clicked the case shut. “You told Kent to give the press a wedding date, didn’t you?”

“Of course not—”

“He never would have done it without getting the okay from you,” she insisted. “He wouldn’t do anything that might threaten his precious career with Montgomery Inns.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me, Dad! It’s belittling to both of us.”

Her father seemed about to protest, then let out a long, weary sigh. “Okay, I suggested that Kent—”

“Oh, Dad, how could you!”

“We needed a distraction. I saw Adam Drake and knew he was here to stir up trouble and then that reporter woman, Judith Marx…” He shuddered. “She can be a barracuda.”

“Then why didn’t you confront Drake?” she asked, astounded.

Her father shook his head. “Only cause a worse scene. Anyway, I saw Drake and started to follow him into the banquet room when Senator Mann came up to me. Then the reporter started snooping around and I put two and two together. Instead of a big spread about opening this hotel, tomorrow’s edition of the Observer would probably just bring up Adam Drake and all the problems we had getting this damned hotel built! Believe me, Marnie, we don’t need any more bad press.”

“Great. So I became the distraction,” she whispered, exasperated beyond words.

“When Kent talked to me earlier I wasn’t for it, but then I saw Drake and the reporter and I gave him the high-sign to go ahead and announce your wedding plans.”

“You’re incredible,” she whispered in exasperation. “Absolutely incredible!” Hooking a thumb to her chest, she added, “We’re talking about my life, Dad. Mine!”

“Marnie, you have to understand—”

“Oh, I do, Dad,” she said, feeling sad as she realized that the company meant more to him than her happiness. “You can give Kent a message for me. Tell him that I’m taking the Marnie Lee. If he throws a fit, remind him that half of it is mine. So I’m taking my half—too bad his half is attached.”

“Wait a minute—at least tell me where you’re going.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“You don’t know?” he repeated. “You can’t just leave without a plan.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. The next few days I’m going to figure out just what I want to do with my life. Take some time to think about it, then, when I get back, I’ll let you know. Goodbye, Dad.” More determined than ever, she headed out of the suite and down a short hall to a private elevator, which took her to the underground parking lot. From there it was only a few steps to the back of the building.

Outside, the wind ripped through the trees and the black water of the sound moved in restless waves. Marnie followed the path beneath the line of dancing Japanese lanterns.

Reaching the dock, she spotted the Marnie Lee and smiled faintly. Wouldn’t Kent be tied in knots when he learned she’d taken the boat he’d come to think of as his? Kent had used the boat for the past six months. He’d be shocked to his toes when he found out she had taken command of the sleek vessel Victor had given them as an engagement present. Let him stew in his own juices—September wedding indeed!

Tossing her suitcase on board, she felt better than she had all night. She unleashed the moorings holding the Marnie Lee fast then climbed to the helm. The engine started on the first try, the dark waters of the sound churning white. Biting her lip, Marnie maneuvered the craft around the other vessels and toward the open waters of Puget Sound.

She decided to head to Orcas Island.

There was an old resort on the island, a resort her father planned to refurbish, and the old hotel would be the perfect place to camp out the first night. From there she would decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She couldn’t be Victor Montgomery’s baby forever. Nor did she want to be Kent Simms’s wife. That left Marnie Montgomery, a single woman who had dutifully done everything her father had requested, from college to her career at Montgomery Inns.

Marnie let out the throttle and the boat sped forward, the prow knifing through the choppy dark water, the wind tearing at her hair. She let out a whoop of pure joy!

For the first time in her twenty-four years, she felt completely free. She closed her eyes and felt the soft caress of the wind on her face.

The next few weeks were going to change the course of her life forever!

Chapter Three

Adam tried to move his cramped muscles. He’d been hiding in a storage closet in the hold for forty-five minutes, according to the luminous face of his watch, and for the last fifteen the boat had been moving, cutting through the water at a pretty good clip. The Marnie Lee pitched and rolled as they traveled, and Adam guessed that the storm was stronger than the weather service had predicted. The force of the gale didn’t seem to deter Simms though; he never turned about.

Good. The farther they were from Port Stanton, the better. Adam couldn’t wait to see the look on Simms’s face when he appeared on deck.

Adam gave Kent another fifteen minutes, then eased himself from the tight quarters. He’d stashed an overnight bag in the galley because he’d learned over the past year to be prepared for anything. He didn’t know how long he’d be stuck with Kent—he hadn’t worked that out yet. A lot depended upon Simms’s attitude and what kind of deal they could cut, because, Adam was sure that Kent Simms was up to his eyeballs in the embezzling mess. There was a chance that Simms hadn’t been involved, but the probability was slim. From his overreaction at the sight of Adam, to his insistence that security be called, Simms looked guilty as hell. Yep, Simms was hiding something. Adam just had to find out what it was and how it was tied to the embezzling.

He glanced up the stairs, felt the lash of rain and wind and decided to give Kent a couple more minutes while he changed. Tossing his bag into an empty cabin, he stripped out of his tux and slid into jeans, flannel shirt, sweater and high-tops. Finally he flung a black poncho over his head.

Using sea legs he’d acquired in the navy, he climbed up two flights to the bridge and twisted his lips into a grim smile at the thought of scaring the living hell out of Simms. If nothing else, Simms’s reaction would be worth the rocky ride.

Flinging open the door of the bridge, he stopped stock-still. A blast of wind caught the door, ripping the door latch from his hands. Papers rustled and caught in the icy breeze. Marnie Montgomery, planted at the helm, nearly jumped out of her skin. With a scream that died in her throat, she whipped around and fumbled in the pocket of her jacket, presumably for a weapon. The helm spun crazily and the boat shuddered.

“Drake? What the hell are you doing here?” she cried, her face ashen, her hair blowing in the wind as she scrabbled to regain control of the spinning wheel. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

He was as stunned as she. Marnie? Here? At the wheel in the middle of a gale-force storm? The wind was fierce, the waters of the sound rolling and unpredictable.

“I asked you a question,” she said, her blue eyes dark as the angry ocean. “And close the door, for crying out loud!”

Damn his rotten luck! Adam caught hold of the latch and pulled the door shut behind him. The door slammed tight, shutting out the wind and rain.

Papers stopped blowing, and Marnie’s blond hair fell back to her shoulders. “Well?”

His entire plan—spontaneous as it had been—depended upon getting Simms alone. Now he had to deal with Simms’s angry lover. Terrific! Just damned terrific. “I’m looking for Kent Simms.”

“Here?” she said, laughing bitterly. The disgusted look she sent him accused him of being out of his mind. “You expected him on board?”

“Isn’t he?”

“Not if he has a brain,” she muttered. Scowling, she added,

“I think Kent’s back at the hotel, living the good life, kissing up to my father.” She turned her concentration back to the sea.

So she was still furious. Good. Her anger might work to his advantage, Adam thought. Now that he was on this pitching boat in the middle of a storm, he had to improvise his hasty plan, and though he wasn’t quite sure how, he knew instinctively that any rift between Simms and Victor Montgomery’s daughter was a good sign.

“What do you want with him?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the boat’s prow.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?” Her voice was casual, but he noticed a glint of suspicion in her gaze as she hazarded a quick glance in his direction. “No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. This has something to do with the reason you crashed the party, doesn’t it?”

When he didn’t immediately respond, she plunged ahead. “And since I don’t think you’re interested in filling out a job application for Montgomery Inns, you must want to talk about the money that’s missing from the Puget West project. Right?”

It galled him the way she talked about the embezzlement so flippantly. He’d gone through hell in the past twelve months, and she acted as though it didn’t really matter, just a little inconvenience.

She wasn’t finished. “If you want my advice—”

“I didn’t come here for—”

“You should just get on with your life.”

“I’m not here for advice.”

“Then you shouldn’t have stowed away on my boat.”

Her boat? “The Marnie Lee belongs to Simms.”

She smiled at that, and her face softened a little. Even under the harsh lights of the bridge, with her hair still wet and her face without a trace of makeup, she was a beautiful woman. “Half of the Marnie Lee belongs to Kent. Unfortunately for him, his half is nailed to my half and I decided to leave the party early.”

“Why?”

She sent him another hard look, a line forming between her brows. “It was time,” she replied, without giving him a clue to her motives.

“Does it have anything to do with your fight with Simms?”

Marnie started to answer, then held her tongue. She should be the person asking questions, not the other way around! What the devil was Drake doing on her boat? She felt nervous and hot, though the bridge was barely 50° F. Adam had always put her on edge; his angled features, thick hair and intense eyes fairly screamed “sexy,” but she’d ignored his rakish good looks when she’d worked with him. She knew a lot of attractive men, but Adam was different. He was more than just simply handsome. There was a restlessness about him, an earthiness coupled with repressed anger that caused her to react to him on a primal level. Kent had called Adam primitive and for once he’d been right: there was a certain primal sexuality to the man.

So here he was, in the tiny bridge, a storm thundering outside, the boat lurching and tilting, and all she could think about was keeping distance between herself and him.

“You made a mistake,” she said flatly.

“Just one?” One side of his mouth lifted.

Marnie gripped the helm and felt her palms dampen with sweat. All she wanted was to escape her past and sort out her identity. But now she had to deal with Adam Drake. Even though he had come to her rescue at the party, she didn’t want him fouling up her first real bid for freedom. “Look, you’ve got to get off the boat.”

“Why?”

“You’re not part of my plan.”

He snorted and tossed back the hood of his poncho. “We’ve got more in common than I thought. You weren’t part of mine.”

“Let’s get one thing straight—we’ve got nothing in common.”

He glanced at her sharply. “So you’re a believer in the great lie, too. You really think I skimmed off money from the Puget West project.”

“There’s been no other explanation,” she said, hedging.

“I was cleared, damn it!” In two swift strides he was so close to her that she noticed the gold flecks in his brown eyes. His nostrils flared in outrage.

“You weren’t cleared,” she said evenly, “there just wasn’t enough evidence to indict you.”

He drew in his breath sharply; the air whistled through his teeth. “Well, Miss Montgomery, I guess I was wrong about you. I thought you might be the one person in the entire Montgomery Inns empire that realized I’d been set up. But you’re just like the rest, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m different. I ended up with you as a stowaway. I didn’t ask you to come on board, did I? As far as I’m concerned you should get off my boat.” She considered telling him that she’d stood up to her father and the board, declaring him innocent, but decided the truth, right now, was pointless.

Adam’s gaze raked down her. “What do you want me to do? Walk the plank?”

“If only I had one.” He could joke at a time like this? The man was incorrigible! There was a slight chance that he was a thief, and now he’d stowed away on the boat, proving that he obviously had no scruples whatsoever. And yet there had been a time when Marnie had relied upon his judgment, had trusted his interpretation of the facts. She had sat through many meetings with Adam in attendance. He always spoke his mind, arguing with her father when necessary. Unlike Kent, who worked diligently to have no mind of his own and think exactly like her father. The proverbial yes-man. She shivered at the thought that she’d once believed she loved him. She’d been a blind fool, a rich girl caught up in the fantasy of love.

The Marnie Lee groaned against the weight of a wave, and a tremor passed through the hull. The wheel slid through Marnie’s fingers, and Adam grabbed hold of the helm, his arms imprisoning her as he strained against the wheel. “Only an idiot would sail in a storm like this,” he muttered.

An idiot or someone hell-bent to have a life of her own, she thought angrily, surrounded by the smell of him. The scent of after-shave was nearly obscured by the fresh odor of water and ocean that clung to his skin. His hair gleamed under the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling and his features were set into a hard mask as unforgiving as the sea.

“Do I have to remind you that you’ve shown up uninvited twice in one night? That must be some kind of record, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what to think right now,” he admitted, his eyebrows thrust together and deep lines of concentration etching his forehead, “but I sure as hell can come up with a hundred places I’d rather be.”

“That makes two of us,” she snapped, as his arms relaxed and he stepped back, giving her control of the vessel again. “We’ll put into port at Chinook Harbor.”

“That’s where you’re going?”

“It’s a little out of the way.” But worth it, to get rid of you, she thought unkindly. She didn’t need any complications on this trip, and any way she looked at it, Adam Drake was a complication. He stepped away from her, and she commanded the boat again, glad for the feel of the polished wheel in her hands. A hundred questions plagued her. What did he want with Kent? Why had he stowed away? How involved in the embezzling was he? And why, oh Lord, why, did she find him the least bit attractive? The man was trouble—pure and simple.

The storm didn’t slow down for a minute. Harsh winds screamed across the deck and waves curled high to batter the hull repeatedly. Marnie’s stomach spent most of the trip in her throat, and she didn’t have time to consider Adam again. He made himself useful, helping read the charts and maps as they headed into the cluster of San Juan Islands.

Her plan was to drop him off in Chinook Harbor, spend the night on the boat, then, as soon as the storm passed, sail around the tip of the island to Deception Lodge, an antiquated resort her father wanted to restore. Making camp in a potential Montgomery Inn bothered her a little; the lodge still belonged to her father and as long as she was seeking shelter on Montgomery soil, she wasn’t truly free.

“But soon,” she muttered as she spied a few lights winking in the distance, lights that had to be on Orcas Island.

“But soon—what?”

She shot him a look that told him it was none of his business, and was about to turn inland when she spotted the buoy bobbing crazily ahead.

“Watch out,” Adam commanded, but the sea swelled under the boat like a creature climbing from the depths. “Marnie, you’re too close!”

Panicked, she checked the gauges. “Too close to what!”

CRACK! The Marnie Lee trembled violently, and for a second Marnie thought the boat was about to split apart.

“Damn it, woman, get out of the way.” Adam shoved her aside and threw open the door.

“You can’t go out…” Her voice was carried away by the cry of the wind.

“Just steer the boat, for God’s sake!”

Horrified, still trying to set the Marnie Lee back on course, she watched as Adam tied a rope around his waist, then worked his way around the bow, rain beating on his head, his hands moving one over the other on the rail. He paused at the starboard side, leaned over, then braced himself as another swell rolled over the deck, engulfing him. Marnie’s heart leaped to her throat. She saw the lifeline stretch taut. Her stomach lurched as the wave retreated and Adam, drenched, still braced against the force of the wave, appeared again.

“Thank God,” she whispered, her throat raw, “Now, Drake, damn your stubborn hide, get below deck and dry out.”

Another torrent of water washed over the deck and once again Adam vanished for a few terror-filled seconds. This time, when the water receded, he moved along the rail again before disappearing on the stairs.

She guided the ship by instinct; she’d learned sailing from her father years before. But all the while her nerves were strung tight, her ears cocked to the door.

Nearly ten minutes later, Adam returned to the bridge, dripping and coughing saltwater and glaring at her as if she were responsible for the storm. “There’s a crack in the hull—a small one on the starboard side, on line with the galley,” he said. “Not a big gash, but it’s not going away. You’re taking on water—slowly. I used some sealer I found downstairs, but it won’t hold, at least not forever.” His eyes were dark and serious. “You’ve got to turn inland.”

“But there’s no port for miles.”

“You don’t have a choice. The island’s close enough. Just head for land. We’ll worry about a harbor when we get closer.” He picked up the microphone for the radio and started to call the Coast Guard, but Marnie flipped the switch, turning off his cry for help.

“We’ll make it ourselves,” she said, refusing, in her first few hours of freedom, to give up any small bit of her independence. “Besides, I think the storm’s about over, the rain’s stopping.”

“Did you hear me, Marnie?” he demanded, ignoring her assessment of the situation. “Rain or no rain, sooner or later, this boat is going to sink like a stone. And we’re going to sink with her.”

“But not for a while. Right?”

“Unless we hit something else.”

“How long do we have?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Ten minutes? Twenty? Two hours?”

“Hell, I don’t know, but you can’t take a chance like this!”

“Why not?” she demanded, cranking hard on the wheel and checking the maps of the area again. They weren’t far from her destination, the point where Deception Lodge was sprawled on high cliffs over the ocean. If she could beach the Marnie Lee soon, she wouldn’t have to call for help and suffer the indignities of having Victor running to save her only to remind her that she wasn’t yet ready to fly on her own wings. Well, damn it, he was wrong. And so was Adam Drake. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about your neck, Mr. Drake.”

“No more than I am about yours.” Sarcasm tainted his voice.

“Then help me get this boat to shore.”

He eyed her for a minute. “And for that, I get what?”

“A bargain? Now, you want to bargain with me?” she asked incredulously. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Isn’t staying alive enough?”

His lips curved crookedly. “Give me a little more incentive. My life this past year hasn’t been that great.”

Unbelievable! While the boat rocked beneath them, he wanted to barter. Marnie didn’t have time. “Okay, okay already. So I’ll owe you one,” she said, furious until she saw the glint of satisfaction in his dark eyes.

“All right, Marnie. You steer. I’ll keep the gash from getting any worse.” He started for the door but stopped, glancing back over his shoulder, his hair falling over his eyes. “What is this, anyway—some sort of quest? What’re you trying to prove?”

When she didn’t answer, he strode out the door. Marnie wasn’t about to confide in him; he could bloody well think what he wanted. After all, he hadn’t been invited along. She owed him nothing. Not even an explanation. Besides, if anyone had an explanation coming, it was she. What the devil was he doing looking for Kent on this boat?

She struggled with the helm until her muscles began to ache. Then, as she turned east, the storm abated. Waves still washed over the deck, but the wrath of the storm was spent, the wind no longer keening over the black water. The clouds, which had so jealously covered the moon, thinned to become a gauzy filter for weak moonlight.

Squinting, Marnie saw the island, a huge black shape rising from the frothy swell of the ocean like a sea monster. They couldn’t be far from Deception Point, she thought wildly, but in the darkness she couldn’t see well enough to make out the rocky cliffs. No lights glowed in the dark, guiding her to a port, but she wasn’t about to complain.

She slowed the engines, creeping in with the waves. In too close and she’d scrape bottom; too far out and they’d have a helluva fight in the life raft to get to shore.

Below decks, Adam heard, rather than felt, the change in speed. So they were going to dock. Finally. Victor’s daughter had more guts than he would’ve given her credit for—maybe more guts than brains, considering the situation. He sealed the cut in the hull again with the sealer he’d found in a storage closet, and decided the craft wouldn’t sink as long as she was stable. The gash was above the waterline and had only leaked when the boat had listed badly. Unless the sea rolled the Marnie Lee onto her starboard side again, the boat wouldn’t settle to the bottom of the ocean. Or at least he hoped not.

So why hadn’t she let him radio for help? What kind of game was she playing? Was she the kind of rich woman who needed thrills?

She’d always seemed so down-to-earth. Beautiful but never too flashy. Elegant but not extreme. So why the sudden boat trip in the middle of a storm? And why not call the Coast Guard?

Could Marnie Montgomery be a woman running from her past?

That particular thought intrigued him. He climbed the slippery steps to the bridge. Marnie barely glanced his way. “You’d better drop anchor,” he said, checking the charts again. “Any closer and you’re asking for trouble.” His gaze slid to hers, and for an insane moment he thought he read more than anger in her stare. But that was crazy. As far as he knew, she hated him, thought he was a traitor to Daddy’s precious company. She looked away, but not before he recognized female interest for what it was.

“Okay, let’s do it.” She released the anchor, and the boat settled, rolling with the tide but no longer listing.

Adam, still wondering about her reaction, worked on the inflatable life raft and loaded it with supplies.

“Get your things,” he ordered when the raft was pumped up.

While she climbed to the lower cabin, he hurried back to the bridge and made a quick call to the Coast Guard. She’d be furious with him, but so be it, he thought, as he loaded his pockets with matches, flares and a first-aid kit he found in a cupboard beneath the radio.

Within minutes they were both in the life raft. Leaning his back into the oars, Adam rowed for shore. Marnie reached for the second set of oars, but he shook his head. The air was still cold, the wind still gusting, and he felt an unlikely sense of chivalry. “I can handle this. Relax.”

“No reason,” she said, her back stiffening as she threw her weight into the task.

Adam didn’t argue with her. If she thought she was helping, fine. He wasn’t up to another argument. Rowing backward, he watched her arms strain, the muscles of her back move fluidly. She wasn’t a wimp by any stretch of the imagination, and he grudgingly admired her gameness. The Marnie Lee, lights blazing, was stark against the dark sky. They rowed without speaking; only the sound of the waves and the occasional burst of wind disturbed the silence as they approached the beach.

Adam dropped his oars, climbed over the side and slid into the chest-deep icy water. Towing the raft inland, he said, “I radioed the Coast Guard.”

She snapped her head around. “You did what?”

“I didn’t think you’d want your father to worry, and the Guard needs to know about the Marnie Lee.”

“You had no right!” she cried, outraged.

“Probably not. And it’s not that I care a lick about your dad. I just thought, from the looks of things, you wouldn’t want him sending the cavalry after you. Hey—stop—you don’t have to—”

But Marnie slid into the frigid sea and together they pulled the raft onto the beach.

“Anyone ever call you stubborn?”

She laughed a little, even though she was shivering.

Adam sized her up and realized he’d never really known her in the few years they’d worked together. “What is it with you, anyway, Montgomery? You’ve got a helluva chip on your shoulder.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.