"Look, Ms. Fleetwood, we'll probably get along a whole lot better if you don't try to romanticize me."
"How can I help it? You're a very romantic figure."
"You call being forty years old and living alone in an old house with two cats romantic?" He glanced at her in sheer disbelief.
"Very."
"You've got the wrong man. You want someone like Jake Savage."
She was immediately fascinated. "Who?"
"Jake Savage." Gideon wasn't surprised by her reaction. Women always reacted that way to Savage. Just the sound of his name was enough to do it for this particular female, apparently.
"What a terrific name. Do you think he'd mind if I used it some day in a book?"
"I doubt it, he's dead."
"Too bad. What was he like?"
"He was the kind of guy you're trying to make me into. Savage was a real-life adventurer. Liked to live life on the edge. Ran a business called Savage & Company."
"What did Savage & Company do?"
"Just about anything in and around South America and the Caribbean that paid enough. Flew supplies into the jungles for various governments, including our own. Transported equipment up rivers for tourists, photographers and scientists. Handled shipments of medicine and clothing for charitable organizations. Acted as guides and outfitters for archaeologists and the occasional team of journalists. And once in a while Savage and Company did some actual treasure hunting. Oh, you'd have loved Jake Savage, all right."
"What happened to him?" Sarah demanded.
"The story is he went off on a particularly dangerous job one day and never came back out of the jungle."
"And thus passed into legend. Great story."
"Thought you'd like it."
"Did Jake Savage go alone on his last expedition?"
Gideon hesitated. "Savage had a partner who usually accompanied him."
"Did the partner die in the jungle, too?"
"Apparently. He didn't return, at any rate, but hardly anyone noticed. Savage was the big name."
"So his obit got all the attention."
"Right. Without him the company folded."
"All very interesting, but we don't need Jake Savage along on our expedition. We've got you."
"You must drive people nuts with all this boundless optimism and enthusiasm."
She bit her lip. "Am I driving you nuts?"
"Yeah. But don't worry about it. I haven't got anything better to do tonight."
She grinned. "I didn't think so."
Ten minutes later when he walked into the restaurant with Sarah Fleetwood beside him, it seemed to Gideon that every head in the place turned in his direction.
That wasn't strictly true, of course. The customers from out of town had no interest whatsoever in the very ordinary sight of a man walking into a restaurant with a woman. But all the locals, from the hostess to the busboy, were instantly intrigued. Gideon swore silently. He was not accustomed to being the center of attention and he didn't like it. It was all Sarah's fault.
"Nice to see you again, Gideon. It's been a while. Follow me, please." Maryann Appley, the young hostess, smiled very brightly as she led the way to a seat by the window. "I hope you enjoy your dinner, ma'am," she added to Sarah as she pulled out the chair.
"Thanks, I will," Sarah said cheerfully, reaching for the menu. "Look, they do have linguine and clams. What luck." As soon as the hostess disappeared she leaned forward. "Why is everyone staring?" she asked in a stage whisper.
"It's been a while since I brought a lady here." Gideon picked up his menu.
"Oh." She looked thoughtful. "Does that mean you don't date much?"
"It's a small community. Not many single women around. They all head for Portland or Los Angeles because there aren't many single men around here, either."
"There's you."
Gideon looked up. "What are you trying to do? Figure out why I'm not married?"
Sarah blushed a charming shade of peach and looked down at her silverware. "I suppose so. Frankly, I couldn't believe my good luck when I realized from your first letter that you weren't married."
"I don't recall mentioning the fact."
"No, but I could tell. In my age group the men always seem to be married. Or if they're single it's because they've just recently been divorced and are all messed up in the head. Or they're gay." She looked briefly anxious.
"I'm not gay and I'm not recently divorced."
She relaxed back into her infectious smile. "Perfect."
"You think so?"
"Definitely. Have you ever been married, Gideon?"
"You get real personal, real quick, don't you?"
"Not normally but I feel like we've known each other for four whole months."
"Funny. I feel like I just met you today."
"I'm going too fast for you, aren't I?"
"That's one way of looking at it. What is all this personal stuff leading up to? You planning to propose marriage to me?"
Sarah cleared her throat delicately and studied her menu. "Don't be ridiculous. It's much too soon for that."
Gideon stared at her, his head reeling. "Maybe we'd better take this one step at a time."
"My thoughts exactly. We don't want to terrorize you."
"I'm beyond terror. I'm in the Twilight Zone. I feel the way Machu Picchu did the day Ellora arrived on the doorstep."
Sarah laughed and closed her menu with a snap. Her eyes sparkled as she studied him across the table. "What did Ellora do first?"
"Moved right in on Machu's feed bowl. Normally, Machu would have bitten off the head of any intruder who got within twenty yards of his food."
"But not Ellora."
"No. That's when I knew we were done for. I think she baffled him at first. By the time he figured out what was going on, it was too late. She was a permanent resident. You ever been married?"
That caught her off guard. Gideon experienced a definite twinge of satisfaction at having finally achieved the near impossible. He had a feeling Sarah was almost never caught flat-footed. She was too quick, too animated, always one step ahead. A sideways thinker. He watched as she played with a fork for a minute.
"I was almost married once," she said finally. "About four years ago."
"What happened?"
"Got stood up at the altar."
He was astounded. "Literally?"
"Literally. Very embarrassing, to be honest. Church full of people. Spectacular dress. Reception waiting. And no groom. It was all very dramatic, I assure you. Enough to put a woman off marriage for life. But nothing is ever wasted for a writer. One of these days, I'm going to do a romance that starts out with the heroine being left at the altar. Snappy beginning, don't you think?"
"How's it going to end?"
"At the altar, of course. With the right man this time."
"But you're not ready to write that story yet?" he asked on a hunch.
"No. The whole experience left me feeling a little raw, if you want to know the truth. Even if it was all my own fault."
Gideon scowled. "What do you mean, your own fault?"
"You're suddenly full of questions. Does this mean you're not bored?"
"You might be a pain in the neck at times, Sarah, but I seriously doubt you could ever manage to be boring."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You didn't answer my question."
She sighed and appeared to be marshaling her thoughts. Gideon got the feeling she was just about to open her mouth when Bernice Sawyer, the waitress, arrived to take their order. He swore silently.
"I'll have the linguine and clams," Sarah announced. "And please tell Mort I was thrilled to see it on the menu. I love linguine and clams."
Bernice blinked. "Uh, sure, I'll tell him. How about you, Gideon?"
"The salmon," he told her dourly, wishing she would go away so he could get the answer to his question.
"Right. Salmon. As usual." Bernice smiled, undaunted by his obvious irritat
ion. "Glass of wine?"
"Yes, please," said Sarah instantly.
"Why not?" Gideon thrust the menu at Bernice, hoping she'd take the hint and leave quickly.
"Be right back," she promised and sauntered off in the direction of the kitchen.
"Really, Gideon, there's no need to be rude," Sarah murmured in a low, chiding tone.
"Was I?"
"Yes, you were."
Bernice materialized again with the wine. Gideon possessed himself in patience until Sarah had taken a sip. When her gaze went toward the view of rocks and crashing surf, he tried again. "So why was it all your fault?"
"I beg your pardon?" She looked politely blank, as if she hadn't followed his train of thought.
Gideon knew instantly she was faking it. "Getting left at the altar. Why was it your fault?"
"Umm. Well, I should have seen it coming." She took another sip of wine.
"You've already told me you're not exactly psychic. How could you have seen it coming?"
"For a man who thought I was coming on a little too strong a while ago, you're awfully interested in my private life all of a sudden."
"Think of this as an interview. I'm still trying to make up my mind about whether or not to accept your offer of a job."
Sarah smiled. "How is my answering your question going to tell you what sort of employer I'll be?"
"I won't know until I hear the answer."
She drummed her fingers on the table, contemplating that. "It's hard to explain. I just knew later that I should have understood Richard didn't really want to marry me. He was on the rebound and he only thought he wanted to marry me."
"How did you feel toward him?"
"Well, you have to understand that I was at a point in my life when I was trying to be terribly realistic about relationships. I had convinced myself that the man of my dreams was pure fiction and I would only get hurt looking for him. Richard was sexy and charming and very nice, really. We had a lot in common and he gave me a whirlwind courtship. Very romantic."
"What happened?"
"The night before our wedding his ex-wife decided she had made a mistake and called him up. He went to meet her. I thought he was going off to his bachelor party. Some bachelor party. At any rate, he didn't show up the next day in church. All for the best, of course. Imagine getting married and then having him change his mind."
"Richard sounds like a real son of a—"
"That is, naturally, one point of view. I'm inclined toward it, myself." Sarah's eyes gleamed with mischief. "The reason the whole thing shook me up so much was that I'd never really made that kind of mistake before. I had plenty of warning and enough hints that he was still emotionally tangled up with his ex-wife, but I didn't pay any attention to them. I felt like an idiot later."
Gideon eyed her thoughtfully. "It threw a scare into you, that's what really happened. You'd always relied heavily on your intuition and it failed you."
"No. I keep telling you, my intuition was fine. I just wasn't paying attention."
"You got a scare. It should have taught you a good lesson about trusting your so-called intuition, but I'll bet you didn't learn a damn thing from the experience."
For the first time since she had landed like a whirlwind in his life, she looked genuinely annoyed with him. "Look, Gideon…"
"Forget it," Gideon said. "This brings us to the little matter of your hiring me as a treasure-hunting consultant."
"It does?"
He was finally beginning to feel like he was catching up with her. At this rate, he might even gain the upper hand for a few breathless minutes. "It does," he confirmed. "It's obvious that you can't really be any more sure of me than you were of this jerk, Richard."
"Not the same thing at all."
"How do you know?"
"I know."
"Got a feeling, right?" he mocked.
"Yes, I do, damn it. Don't make fun of me, Gideon."
"I wouldn't think of it."
She glowered at him. "And don't, whatever you do, turn out to be one of those people who lectures."
"God forbid." He sat back and swirled the wine in his glass. So much for trying to make her think twice about the whole project. He wasn't sure why he had bothered. Maybe just to see how deep her certainty ran.
"That was the only thing that worried me a tad, you know," she said finally.
"I've lost you again. What was the only thing that worried you?"
"That you might have a tendency to lecture. I picked that up here and there in some of your letters. But it's a relatively minor flaw and one I'm sure we can work around."
"You think so?" Gideon met her mischievous gaze and the vague tension that had been gnawing at him for several hours suddenly coalesced into a powerful urge to take her into his arms and wipe some of that feminine assurance out of her eyes. He knew just how he would kiss her. Hard and deep and very thoroughly.
"I think so. Say, I've been meaning to ask, did you ever try that recipe for buckwheat noodles I sent you last month?"
"No. The local stores don't run to fancy stuff like buckwheat noodles."
"You should have told me. I'd have sent you some."
"I was thinking about it," he admitted. "But you showed up on my doorstep before I got around to writing the letter." No point telling her that all the recipes she'd sent him during the past four months were neatly filed in a kitchen drawer. He took them out and read through them regularly but he had never actually tried one.
"I see."
Gideon watched her closely. "You're determined to go after the Flowers, aren't you?"
"Absolutely."
"What will you do if I don't agree to come along?"
"Gideon, I'm counting on you to help me."
"Forget the big-eyed approach. I don't respond to it." Like hell. His whole body was responding. "Any idea how much the earrings are worth?" he asked casually.
"Not really, but I'm sure it's a great deal. Each pair was made out of a different gemstone. One pair was made out of sapphires, one out of rubies, one out of diamonds, one out of opals and one out of pearls. The story is that Emelina Fleetwood knew she would never marry and she was determined to give herself the kind of jewels a rich husband would have given her. She wanted to prove she didn't need a man to shower her in luxury. She could do it all by herself."
"And you want to follow in her footsteps?"
Sarah frowned. "Not exactly. I don't think you understand. The Fleetwood Flowers are a piece of history, my personal history."
"You're really fixated on those earrings, aren't you?"
"They're family heirlooms. Naturally I'm interested in them."
"Sure. Family heirlooms. They hold no monetary interest for you at all, do they? Just pure historic value. I suppose you're going to tell me you're not going to sell them if you find them?"
Sarah put down her glass of wine with great care. The laughter had completely vanished from her eyes. "What is this?" she asked quietly. "You think I'm some sort of opportunist? A gold digger? A scheming little hussy trying to get rich quick?"
"I didn't say that."
"You don't have to say it." Her gaze narrowed. "Look at it this way Gideon. Unlike most treasure hunters, I'm at least going after a fortune that belongs to me."
"You think that because those earrings belonged to someone in your family who lived way back in the late eighteen hundreds that you now have a claim on them?"
"More of a claim than anyone else."
"I've got news for you. Treasure that old belongs to whoever is clever enough to dig it up."
"I plan to be the one who's clever enough to dig it up."
"Take it from me. Amateurs never find real treasure. You'll be wasting your time, Sarah."
"I was right. You do have a tendency to harangue."
Gideon glanced up and saw Bernice heading toward the table. "Let's change the subject. Here comes our fish."
Sarah lifted her eyes ceilingward in an expression of utter disgust and
snapped back in her chair. "Wouldn't want to spoil your appetite."
"You won't."
Five minutes of oppressive silence followed. Gideon decided he wasn't going to be the one to break it. The salmon was good, as usual. Mort really could cook.
"Gideon?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't really think me a cheap, scheming opportunist just because I want to find the Flowers, do you? Do you genuinely believe I'm just trying to use you?"
He put down his fork. "I'm not sure what to think. It's possible you've spent the past four months establishing a sort of relationship with me so that when you finally asked for help, I'd be more likely to say yes and work cheap."
"Damn. It never occurred to me you'd see things in that light. I was so sure…"
He picked up his fork again. "You're an unusual woman, Sarah. And that's putting it politely. I don't know what to make of you, yet."
"I really have got you terrorized," she said, her voice unnaturally flat.
"I wouldn't say that."
"Does this mean you truly aren't interested in helping me find the Flowers?"
"I didn't say that."
"Well, what are you trying to say, for heaven's sake?"
"Don't get mad."
"I'm not mad. I just want to know where I stand. Are you going to help me or not?"
"I'm still thinking about it."
"Was your ex-wife a gold digger?" Sarah demanded suddenly. "Is that why I'm making you nervous? Do I look like her or something?"
"No, you definitely do not look like her. Leanna liked success in whatever form it took and she liked flash. But I wouldn't call her a gold digger. She had too much class for that."
"Flash? What do you mean by flash?"
"Never mind. Eat your linguine."
"Gideon, are you going to help me with my treasure hunt or not? Tell me now. I don't take suspense well."
"You should, since you write it."
"That's different. What's your answer?"
"I don't know yet. I'll let you know later."
"Oh, yeah?" She glowered at him. "I'm not so sure I need or want your answer now or later."
"Okay."
"Don't be so bloody difficult, Gideon. Let's just forget the whole thing."
The Adventurer Page 4