by Lisa Jackson
With a short laugh, Marnie glanced down at her hands and noticed the small wedges of dirt beneath her nails. If only Miss Ellison could see her now. How appalled the tiny Englishwoman would be. Miss Ellison had never approved of Victor teaching Marnie how to tie a half hitch, use a jackknife or site a gun. In fact, Miss Ellison would have been absolutely apoplectic if she could have witnessed Marnie last night as she’d attempted to steer her boat through the driving rain and howling wind.
As for Adam Drake, surely Miss Ellison would cluck her tongue and find him “…entirely unsuitable! Too earthy, darling, too dangerous. Mark my words, he’s the type of man who uses women to get what he wants. And we all know that he was involved in that nasty business with your father. Stole from him, he did. No matter what the court decided. You can see it in his eyes. He’s no good. No breeding, you know. I don’t trust him. Not at all…”
Marnie rotated her cup in her hands and pondered her situation. Standing, she stretched her spine and heard the bones in her back pop. The first order of business, she realized with a frown, was to get rid of Adam Drake. She didn’t want him and he didn’t want her. He had been shocked to his socks to find her behind the helm last night. At the thought of his stricken, rain-washed face, she smiled. He’d been ready to tear Kent limb from limb, and he’d ended up facing Victor Montgomery’s daughter.
She finished her coffee, poured another cup and wondered what Adam hoped to learn by talking to Kent. Kent knew nothing of the embezzlement; he’d even admitted feeling foolish having not discovered the discrepancies in the books himself. Fortunately, Kate Delany, Victor’s ever-vigilant assistant, had noticed that certain receipts hadn’t balanced with actual checks and that the computer entries had been tampered with.
Kent had been flabbergasted. He’d never been fond of Adam, that much was true. They were both too competitive, and Adam had always outshined Kent.
Marnie thought back to those days when she’d been in business meetings with Adam. He’d been the apple of her father’s eye. Always on the lookout for a new hotel site, first with the figures on the competition. He had a way of explaining a future project so that everyone in the room understood him.
Adam had been popular with the employees, especially the women, who found his hard edge and competitive spirit a challenge. Even Marnie had considered him attractive, though she hadn’t let him know it. No, until Kent had started wooing her so relentlessly, she’d made it a personal policy not to date anyone remotely connected with the company. If only she had stuck with her own unwritten law and never gone out with Kent.
Refusing to dwell on the humiliation that being engaged to Kent Simms had caused, she walked onto the front porch, half expecting to find Adam, but he was nowhere to be seen. She strolled across the wet beach grass of the headland and stared down sheer cliffs to the restless sea churning wildly over fifty feet below. Angry blue gray waves pounded the rocky shoreline, sending up a salty spray that smelled of brine and kelp. Sea gulls floated on the gusts high overhead, and far in the horizon, blending eerily into the fog, fishing boats trolled the waters.
Knowing the fishermen were out there comforted her a little. She and Adam weren’t entirely alone in this deserted stretch of the islands. But she was free. Looking south, she spotted the Marnie Lee, not listing, thank God, but rocking gently on the swells. The boat’s white hull gleamed in the morning’s gray light. She thought she spied the inflatable raft riding the waves near the yacht and realized Adam had gone back to the boat, probably to check the damage to the craft. For a heart-stopping second, she wondered if he intended to take off and leave her stranded. Panic seized her, but she forced herself to calm down. If Adam’s intention had been to abandon her and steal the boat, he could have left at any time last night. And he probably wouldn’t have taken the time to leave hot water and coffee for her. Relaxing, she realized that whether she liked it or not, she had no choice but to trust him.
Her brows drew together. Trust a man her father considered a traitor of the worst order? “This could get messy,” she thought aloud.
She considered Adam again. There was certainly something dangerous about him, a hidden side to him that was as dark as it was ruthless. A fascinating side.
So this was where Simms spent his hours away from the office, Adam thought harshly as he eyed the largest cabin on the Marnie Lee. He scowled at the brass fittings, oiled teak furniture, all bolted down, of course, and the silk bedspread and sheets. Yep, Simms really knew how to live in style.
With Marnie.
How many hours had Marnie spent lying in this very bed, making love to Simms? Adam’s stomach clenched, and a sour taste inched up his throat. She claimed she was through with Simms, and Adam was inclined to believe her. And yet, she’d once been Kent Simms’s lover, had once intended to become his wife. “No accounting for bad taste,” he muttered, leaving the room and ignoring the pounding in his head at the thought of Marnie and Simms making love. It wasn’t any of his business. Period. She was Victor’s daughter and Simms’s ex-fiancée. Nothing more.
She might have information that would help him get to the bottom of the embezzling scam, but then again, she might know nothing of the vanished half million. He’d have to find out one way or another because he was running out of time. Brodie, Peterson and the rest of that particular investment group had slipped through his fingers. And the next group would, too, unless he proved himself innocent.
He made his way to the galley. Checking his handiwork on the hull, he noted the Marnie Lee seemed watertight. She wasn’t in any immediate danger of sinking, which was good, because the plan that was forming in his mind wouldn’t work unless the boat remained afloat.
He grabbed some more provisions, clean towels and a couple of sleeping bags. Up in the bridge he radioed the Coast Guard again, this time identifying himself at the captain’s insistence and explaining that he and Marnie would be taking the boat in for repairs as soon as possible. He asked for the weather report and was told that there wasn’t another storm front coming in for at least three days.
“It’s supposed to be overcast, a little rain, but nothing serious for a while,” Captain Spencer assured him. “You sure you don’t need any assistance?”
“I’ll call if there’s trouble. We’ll put up at Chinook Harbor within a couple of days,” Adam replied, his mind spinning the lies that were part of his scheme.
“Anything else?”
Adam thought for a second and smiled slowly, gripping the microphone until his hands ached. “Just one more thing,” he said slowly. “Pass the word along to Victor Montgomery at the Puget West in Port Stanton. If you can’t reach him there, he’s probably at corporate headquarters in Seattle. Tell him that I’m with Marnie and we’re both fine. We’ll spend a couple of days up at Deception Lodge while the boat is being repaired. I wouldn’t want him to worry about his daughter.”
“Will do, Mr. Drake. I’ll let him know you radioed.”
“Thanks,” Adam said, wondering if Victor would show up in the company helicopter to personally throw Adam out of the lodge and make sure that Marnie’s virtue remained intact. After all, in Victor’s opinion, Marnie was keeping company with a thief and traitor—the very devil himself. That thought warmed the cockles of Adam’s vengeful heart. There was a chance that Victor would confide in Simms, and Simms, outraged that his lady fair was in the hands of a criminal, would come charging up to the island as well. That would be even better.
Adam would be waiting. But he had to convince Marnie to spend another couple of days in the lodge. That shouldn’t be too hard; he’d just have to lie a little, and lying was becoming easier all the time. As he saw the situation, he was battling for his reputation, for his ability to make a living. He thought of the California investors who’d dismissed him so summarily. Brodie had said it all. “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.”
So Adam h
ad to clear his name, and the only man who had been able to help him at all had been Gerald Henderson. But even Henderson’s information had been sketchy. Gerald had been a CPA and worked in accounting with Fred Ainger. He was convinced that Adam was innocent, but Adam hadn’t been able to pry any more information out of him. Either Gerald didn’t know who the guilty parties were or he was afraid of retribution.
Adam’s back was to the wall. And if he had to lie to Marnie to get what he wanted, so be it. It only followed that if he had to use Marnie as bait to get to her father, that’s what he would do. After all, it wasn’t as if he were putting her in any danger. But once she discovered that he’d deceived her, all hell was sure to break loose.
He only hoped it happened after he got his audience with Simms or Victor Montgomery.
Marnie combed her wet hair. Shampooing had been difficult without hot water. She’d had to heat water on the fire, then she’d sponged all the dirt from her skin. She was drying her hair near the flames when she heard Adam’s tread on the porch. The door burst open and he strode in, as grungy as she was clean, and deposited a huge bag on the floor.
“You brought more supplies?” she asked, eyeing the bag.
“Everything I could carry.”
“But why? We’re leaving…” Her voice faded as she understood. “Something’s not wrong with the Marnie Lee, is it?”
“She’ll be fine,” Adam said easily. “But there’s another storm brewing—might be worse than the last. The Coast Guard advised us to stay put.”
She dropped her comb, her hair forgotten as she glanced at the window and the overcast day beyond. “Another storm?” she said, her heart sinking at the thought of being cooped up with Adam any longer. His restless energy made her nervous, and the way he stared at her, as if trying to read her mind, bothered her. “You called the Guard again?”
“Mmm.” He was unpacking the bags, laying out more food and supplies on the hearth. “I thought I should explain our position. And I wanted an updated weather report.”
“It would be better if you hadn’t,” she said, walking to the window where she balanced a knee against the sill and rubbed her arms. The horizon was bleak. The waters seemed lonely. Where once she’d spied three fishing boats, now only one trolled the steely depths.
As a young girl she’d spent a lot of time on the ocean. Her father had taught her to read the weather’s slightest signals. A fragile breeze stirred the branches of fir trees near the lodge, but the sky was far from dark.
“When’s this storm supposed to hit?” she asked, trying to keep the suspicion from her voice.
“Early afternoon. Maybe sooner. No way to tell.” He tossed a piece of mossy oak onto the fire and kicked it into place. The flames crackled and hissed. Adam rubbed his hands on his jeans. “The weather can turn quickly up here.”
“I know, but I think we could limp into port,” she said, testing him, though she really doubted that he would lie to her. What would be the point? No doubt he was as anxious to be rid of her as she was to lose him.
Adam shrugged. “It’s your call, Marnie, but it wouldn’t hurt to wait it out. The boat’s holding water now, but one more shot against that hull and it might split wide open.”
“It wouldn’t take long to make it to Chinook Harbor or even Deer Harbor.” She bit on her lower lip thoughtfully, resting her hands on the windowpane. She wasn’t used to making these kinds of decisions alone, and Adam wasn’t much help. Not that she wanted his help, she told herself. This was, after all, her bid for independence.
“You’re right,” he said suddenly, before she could change her mind. “We can probably make it. Okay, let’s go.” He grabbed his bag and the two sleeping bags and shouldered open the door. “Kill the fire.”
“It couldn’t be any worse than last night,” she pointed out as he walked outside. She ignored the fire and followed him onto the porch. The wind blew harder than she’d expected, and she watched as the first thin drops of rain began to drizzle from the leaden sky.
“Last night was bad enough,” he said, squinting as he stared at the horizon. “But this storm, bad as it’s supposed to be, should blow over soon and why take a chance?” He was across the porch now, starting for the path. “However, if you’re sure you want to try it, just pack what you need. We can leave the supplies here.” Head bent against the rain, he started along the sandy path that led through the rocky forest, to the beach.
Indecision tore through Marnie. What if he were right? What if she, in her foolish anxiety to leave this place, put the Marnie Lee in jeopardy? Then all her quick words about standing on her own would come back to haunt her. Her father and Kent would never let her forget her aborted attempt at freedom. “Adam! Wait!” She ran the length of the porch and watched as he turned on his heel, his back rigid, his face, as he spun to glare at her, a mask of impatience.
His jaw was dark with the start of a beard, his lips thin and compressed, his brown eyes reflecting anger. “Make up your mind, Marnie. What’s it gonna be?”
She checked the sky again. It suddenly seemed more ominous. The clouds were burgeoning. The timeworn phrase, better safe than sorry, flitted through her mind. “We can wait. A few more hours won’t hurt, I suppose.”
Tossing her a look that silently called her a wishy-washy female, he hauled the bag onto his shoulder, brushed past her and headed back inside.
“Women,” he muttered, making the word an insult.
Marnie bit back a hot retort and waited a few seconds before she followed him back into the lodge. The man really got under her skin. Who was he to sneer at her? It wasn’t as if he’d been invited on her ill-fated cruise. He’d stowed away, like the thief he probably was. She stormed inside where Adam was once again opening up his packs. To look busy, she stoked the fire and prodded the logs, causing flames to shoot to the back of the blackened fireplace. Adam’s eyes never left her backside. She could feel his gaze boring into her. Well, he could look all he wanted. She’d put up with him for a little longer, but if the storm didn’t break by mid-afternoon, or if she didn’t see any evidence of a serious squall on the horizon, she’d pack everything up herself, if she had to, and sail to Chinook Harbor. Adam Drake could do whatever he damn well pleased.
“Drake? She’s with Adam Drake?” Kent sputtered, his eyes rounding incredulously as he stood in the middle of Victor’s Seattle office. “What the hell’s she doing with him?”
“I wish I knew.” Victor reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, withdrew his pipe and opened the humidor on his desk. “I would’ve known earlier, but the captain of the Coast Guard ship that took the message called Port Stanton before he reached me here.”
“We’ve got to go get her! That man’s crazy. You saw how he barged in on your party, and I don’t have to remind you what he did to our publicity!” Kent snapped the local section of the paper onto Victor’s desk. The headlines, bold and black, announced:
Disgruntled Employee Returns
To Opening Of Puget West
Adam Drake, whose employment with Montgomery Inns was terminated last year when half a million dollars disappeared…
“I know what it says,” Victor grumbled, clicking his lighter to the bowl of his pipe and inhaling. He let out thick puffs of smoke. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, the first thing I’d do is impound that damned boat of his—the one he left at Port Stanton. The security guards saw him take off in a boat, so he must have doubled back and left it at the hotel.”
“Maybe—”
“Then, I’d go up to Deception Lodge and haul Marnie back here! For God’s sake, Victor, no one can even guess what Drake’s got up his sleeve!”
“You think he’ll hurt Marnie?” Victor asked, eyeing Simms as he paced nervously in front of the desk.
“He’s desperate. After that fiasco last night, I did some checking through a P.I. who owes me a favor. I’d already had him looking into Drake because of the problems last year. Anyway, acco
rding to the P.I., Drake’s planning to get back into the business. But there’s a catch. Anyone he approaches for financing turns him away. He’s talked to groups from L.A., Houston and Tokyo. No one will touch him.”
Victor drummed his fingers on his desk as he considered his nemesis. Once he had trusted Drake with his fortune, and had anyone asked him about the most ambitious vice president he’d ever promoted, Victor would’ve replied that he would trust Drake with his very life—or the life of his daughter. He’d had that much faith in the bastard. But, of course, his opinion had plummeted when he’d realized that Drake had slowly but surely embezzled him out of a sizable chunk of his wealth.
The money hadn’t really been an issue, but the lack of loyalty had. Victor required absolute loyalty from his employees. In return, he treated them well. But not, apparently, well enough for a scoundrel like Drake. He glanced up at Kent, edgy as he paced from the windows to the bar and back. It took all of Victor’s willpower to remain calm. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Nothing you can do? Marnie’s your daughter, for crying out loud!”
“Precisely.” Victor’s fist connected with the top of his desk, jarring his arm. “And if I interfere in her life, she’ll never forgive me!”
“She might not get the chance,” Kent said, his face flushed. “Drake’s backed into a corner. And we all know how a cornered wolf reacts. You could press charges against him for kidnapping—or trying to steal the Marnie Lee!”
“We don’t know what the hell happened to put Drake on the Marnie Lee, so I can’t start making wild accusations. Besides, I don’t give a damn about that boat.”