by Janet Dailey
Very slowly she lifted her head from the pillow and glanced over her shoulder. A shudder of relief quaked through her at the empty pillow beside hers. Warily she looked around the room, but there was no sign of Rhyder.
Then she heard his voice coming from the terrace outside their suite. She listened, unable to figure out whom he could be talking to—until she heard a familiar voice.
"My God, I can't believe you actually married her!" came Pete's astonished exclamation. "When they told me at the harbor, I thought they were pulling my leg. But you actually did it?"
"I had no choice," Rhyder replied, his low voice tautly on edge.
Gina tensed herself, her muscles protesting as she slipped from beneath the covers. Her clothes were still scattered on the floor. She sidestepped them, wanting to forget how they had come to be there, and hurried to her suitcase on the luggage stand.
"But how? Why?" she heard Pete's puzzled voice ask as she pulled a pair of slacks and a top from the folded clothes.
She was just stepping into the slacks when she heard Rhyder answer, "I believe it's commonly known as blackmail."
"Blackmail?" Pete breathed. "What happened while I was gone?"
With frozen movements, Gina finished dressing. She now strained to hear the voice she had tried to ignore. She had to know what his explanation was for that statement.
"She came to the boat late one evening. It was raining and she was soaked to the skin," Rhyder began his explanation tersely. "I went to get a blanket to wrap her in. When I came back with it, the damned little Lolita had taken off her clothes and was begging me to make love to her!"
"Oh, my God!" Pete interjected. "Did you—"
"I told her to go home and grow up!" Rhyder snapped. "She went out of there, crying through the streets, half-naked. Nearly the whole damned town saw her leave the Sea Witch."
Gina felt cheap and degraded. The stark truth of his words shamed her, but she hated him for telling Pete about her wanton behavior. It was too demeaning.
"What did you do then?" Pete wanted to know, incredulity running through his low voice.
"I decided I'd better tell my side of the story before the uproar got so loud nobody would listen, so I went to her house to talk to her grandfather," Rhyder sighed grimly.
"And he didn't believe you?"
"I think he believed me all right." Rhyder exhaled a savage, mirthless laugh. "The trouble was his granddaughter's reputation had been irreversibly damaged in the eyes of the town, a fact he kept drumming into my head as he kept forcing me to drink his whisky."
"You mean he tried to get you drunk?" Pete chuckled his astonishment.
Gina blanched as she remembered the thud of the whisky bottle on the table at least three times before she had buried her head under the pillow. It had been an underhanded trick by her grandfather, regardless of his honorable motives.
"He nearly succeeded. At first I thought it was some kind of test of man hood I was expected to pass. Then I realized, nearly too late, that he intended to keep me from thinking clearly. Not that it mattered either way when he was through," Rhyder tacked on sardonically.
"If you didn't do anything, how could he blackmail you into marrying her? Gina's a nice kid, but what are you going to do with a child bride?" Pete declared in confusion. "I just can't see you giving in to pressure just because of some small town gossip about you and a girl, Rhyder."
"It depends on the pressure." Cynicism deepened his voice to a rough sound. "I was presented with the choice of marrying Gina or answering charges of molesting a minor and attempted rape."
"Good lord!" Pete breathed in sharply.
And Gina sought the support of the luggage rack as her knees gave way. Yesterday, during the drive, she had thought Rhyder was joking when he said he had married her to save his reputation; but he had been dead serious.
"Drunk or sober, I had no choice," Rhyder continued. "The newspapers would have loved the story, especially considering the investigation going on to see if the political contributions made by my father's firm were legal or not. If I'd fought the charges and won, the publicity would still have been damning for my father."
"I'm afraid you're right," Pete agreed in a reluctant tone.
"Gina's grandfather knew he had me between a rock and a hard place. And he squeezed." The words seemed to be drawn through a jaw clenched in anger.
"Does Gina know? Surely she must suspect. Or do you think she was part of it?"
"What you're really asking is, was it all a conspiracy to snare Gina a wealthy husband?" Gina didn't have to see Rhyder to visualize the coldly mocking smile twisting his mouth. "I have no idea. Gina appears unaware of her grandfather's threats. But she also pretended to be a reluctant bride."
"Pretended? What do you mean by that?" Pete was quick to catch the subtly doubting comment.
Closing her eyes, Gina remembered how easily she had allowed his rough kisses to change her attitude. The bitter regret she already felt toward her surrender was doubled. He had seduced her merely to prove a point, not because he had a marital right. She would make him pay for taking her innocence, she vowed.
"Nothing," Rhyder answered Pete's question. "It isn't important."
Her hatred mounted that he could dismiss it so lightly.
"What are you going to do now?" Pete asked, not pursuing the former topic. "I suppose you'll have to take her home to meet your family. Geez, can you imagine her meeting some of your sister's friends? They'll tear the kid apart! Not to mention the claws that will be out from some of the girls who planned on catching you themselves. Are you going to tell your family the truth? About how you were blackmailed into marrying her?"
"Yes," Rhyder snapped, then paused before adding, "they'd never believe that I could fall in love with a teenager. I would be insulting their intelligence by trying to convince them."
"Your sister would never be able to keep quiet about it," Pete warned. "In a month, Clarise would see that everyone knew. It'll be hard on you and Gina. 'Course, you've got a thick skin; you can take it. But the kid…?"
"Maybe she deserves it," was the impatient reply, and Gina's temperature rose.
"Come on, Rhyder. She's young yet."
"Maybe she'll find married life so miserable that I'll be able to buy my freedom with a divorce settlement," Rhyder growled. "In the meantime I'll have to be careful that she doesn't get pregnant, or I could be saddled with her for the rest of my life, one way or another."
"Divorce is expensive," Pete murmured absently.
"I would have paid not to marry her, but that crafty old man had his eye on the main chance. He kept harping on the damage to her reputation. I'd write out a check now, for any sum she'd care to name, if I thought it would get rid of her," Rhyder declared savagely.
Gina straightened from the luggage rack. Cold rage stiffened her shoulders as she walked toward the sliding glass door that opened to the terrace. At the pressure of her hand it glided open, the sound immediately drawing both men's attention.
"How much?" she demanded before either could speak.
A dull red of embarrassement crept under Pete's fair skin. The forbidding hardness of Rhyder's dark features didn't vary at all at the sight of her, expressing surprise at neither her appearance nor her question.
The steel blue of his eyes inspected her in an alertly sweeping look. The alabaster paleness of her complexion contrasted sharply with the raven blackness of her hair. The ocean green of her eyes had the tempestuous look of a chilling winter storm.
"You said a moment ago you'd be willing to pay to get rid of me. How much?" Gina repeated her question.
"How much do you want?" Rhyder countered smoothly.
Gina named the first large sum that came to mind. Something flickered across the rugged planes of his face and she realized immediately that he had expected her to ask for more.
When she had vowed a moment ago to make him pay, she hadn't meant it in a monetary sense. It didn't matter that she could have asked for
more and received it.
"You surprise me, Gina. I would have thought you would put a higher price on your reputation." Rhyder studied her indolently, resting a sun-browned shoulder against a wrought-iron pole supporting the terrace roof.
He was dressed only in dark blue slacks, the morning sun glistening over the bareness of his chest. Gina found the virile thrust of his vitality abrasive, a too vivid reminder of last night's intimacy.
"My reputation is intact," she retorted. "Marrying you made everything all right. You're getting a discount because of it."
"But a divorce so soon?" Rhyder commented mockingly. "Isn't that going to raise some eyebrows?"
Gina dismissed the question with cold hauteur. "Oh, they'll click their tongues at me for a while. And they'll probably say that's what you get for marrying a man from away. But when I spread the story around of what a pig you are, they'll agree that I did the right thing. They won't be surprised, considering the kind of man they already think you are, messing around with a child."
The line of his mouth thinned harshly. "You and your grandfather have everything worked out, don't you?"
"We tried not to overlook anything," she lied.
It would have been useless to insist there had been no premeditated scheme to trap him into marrying her. He wouldn't have believed it. Besides, she didn't care what his opinion was of her or her grandfather. They agreed on one point—a swift end to the marriage.
"You'll have your money the minute the divorce papers are signed." Contempt sneered in his promise.
"An annulment would be much less complicated," Pete inserted hesitantly.
"Yes, and possibly swifter." His steel gaze narrowed thoughtfully on Gina.
"That settles it, then," she declared.
THE ANNULMENT was obtained after Gina had overcome her grandfather's initial objections with threats of running away if he didn't agree. It hadn't been easy continuing her life in the small community.
Although the adults were forgiving of her impetuous and failed marriage, the boys looked at her with different eyes. They glimpsed experience behind the haunted innocence of her face. Her self-respect became a precious commodity to Gina, to be guarded at every turn.
Her grandfather's pride had been offended by the money Rhyder had given her. Nate Gaynes had deposited it in the bank, refusing to touch a penny of it. Gina, too, had felt it was somehow tainted. The bank's reminders of the account and its accumulating, interest had seemed to constantly arrive.
Each time she had seen the envelopes in the mail she had wanted to die. Her grandfather became quiet whenever he saw them. Gina sensed that he felt he had failed her by forcing her into the abortive marriage, and she had tried in subtle ways to make him understand that he hadn't known what kind of a man Rhyder was.
In the year that immediately followed the annulled marriage, her grandfather had grown morose and introspective. The next summer he had died in his sleep. In her grief, Gina had blamed Rhyder and had gladly used the money he had given her.
She had rationalized that he owed it to her for causing her grandfather's death. She had sold the house. That last year had erased many of the happy memories that had once been associated with it.
NINE YEARS LATER with her twenty-sixth birthday just celebrated last month, she was a woman with a career and a future before her. So why, Gina bemoaned silently, did such an unwelcome inhabitant of the past have to reenter her life now? All the violent emotions she had thought were buried were surfacing.
Her skin felt hot to the touch. She walked to the sink of the modern-designed kitchen and turned on the cold water to let it run over the inside of her wrists. The outside door opened and she stiffened at the sound, breathing shallowly.
"Gina!" Justin Trent chided her with a mock Sigh. "What are you doing in here? The party is outside."
"It was getting a bit hectic out there." She turned off the cold water tap and made a study of drying her hands, "So I came in here to get my second wind."
"You pick the strangest times to withdraw." He walked to her side, took the towel from her hands and tossed it on the counter before taking both her hands in his. "Here I am wanting to show you off to all my friends and you're hiding inside the house."
"I wasn't hiding." Gina forced a smile, unable to meet the warm glow of his brown eyes.
He carried her left hand to his lips, brushing the tips of her fingers with a kiss. Through the concealing veil of her lashes, she saw the wry twist of his sensual mouth as he gazed at her hand.
"I wish you wouldn't wear that ring. It always makes me feel as if I'm fooling around with someone's wife," Justin mused.
An uncontrollable shiver raced down her spine. Gina quickly removed her fingers from his light hold and turned away, guiltily covering the gold ring with her other hand.
"I told you—it's my grandmother's ring."
The "something old" that her grandfather had sentimentally presented for the wedding, accompanying it with a wish that her marriage to Rhyder would be as long and as happy as his had been.
"You amaze me, honey. Sometimes you're so coolheaded and liberated, thinking only of your career. Then other times you're deliciously old-fashioned and feminine." His finger traced the curve of her cheek. "When I first met you, I thought you wore that ring to keep guys like me away."
"It works for that, too," Gina smiled.
His light caress made her uncomfortable. It came too soon after the memory of another man's touch. But she couldn't draw away from it; Justin wouldn't understand the rejection when she had been allowing him similar little liberties for the last few months. And Gina didn't want to explain or lie.
"It works—unless you want a guy to get closer, mmm?" suggested Justin as his finger tilted her chin upward.
Her lashes closed as his face moved closer. Beneath the warm possession of his lips, hers were stiff and faintly resistant. She tried to relax under his kiss, but the attempt didn't succeed and Justin lifted his head.
Regret trembled through her, regret that she had ever had the misfortune to meet Rhyder and regret that he had suddenly reappeared after nine years.
"As much as I would like to continue in this happy vein—" his mouth hovered near her temple, his moist breath stirring the short black waves of her hair "—I think we'd better return to the clambake, since I'm the host."
"Yes, we should," Gina agreed quickly, anxious to bring an end to the embrace, especially when she was reacting so unnaturally to it.
"You don't need to sound so eager," Justin laughed, and curved an arm possessively around her shoulders.
"Hunger pangs," she lied brightly, walking at his side to the door.
"We'll cure those." Justin ushered her through and slid his arm back to its former position around her shoulders as he escorted her to the gathering of people.
Amid the crowd was Rhyder, magnetically drawing Gina's gaze against her will. His raw masculinity and rough vitality set him apart from the others. His attraction was powerful. Even while she despised him, Gina felt its strength.
Through the crowd, his gaze drifted, caught Gina's look and stopped. She glanced quickly away, her gaze skittering sightlessly in any direction except where Rhyder stood.
Breathing in deeply, she resolved not to let Rhyder's presence disturb her. The shock of seeing him again was over. As much as she disliked him, she refused to permit him to spoil her enjoyment of the clambake.
"You returned just in time," Katherine Trent spoke up as her brother approached with Gina under his arm. In an aside, she jested to another couple standing near the canvas-mounded trough, "Trust my brother to turn up when the food is ready!"
"I've never been accused of bad timing," Justin responded good-naturedly to the teasing.
Gina slid a surprised glance at her watch. She had been in the house nearly an hour while her mind had run through the events of nine summers ago.
Justin turned to the guests and called, "Come on, everybody. We're ready for the unveiling!"
"It's been years since I've been to a clambake," someone declared, "but that's an aroma I'll never forget!"
Gina glanced in the direction of the voice, an understanding and agreeing smile curving her lips. Rhyder blocked her view, his eyes on her, alertly blue yet masked. The smile faded as her heart tripped over itself.
She was forced to acknowledge that there were many memories that time couldn't dim. Not all of them concerned moments of anger and hatred; remembered moments of desire could blaze in the mind, too. She paled at the discovery wanting to remember only the bitter dislike and never be vulnerable again to humiliation at Rhyder's hand.
"Dig in!" Katherine invited as the bulk of the food was set on a long table, leaving the lobster on the bottom, bright red-pink against the seaweed bed.
With Justin at her elbow, Gina joined the line of people piling food on their plates. She lost sight of Rhyder in the milling group and hoped the separation would be permanent.
"Take our plates to that table over there," Justin said, pointing, as he handed her his plate. "I'll get our lobster and the drawn butter."
As Gina turned to comply, she saw Rhyder seated at the picnic table Justin had indicated. She hesitated but Justin pushed her forward playfully. Other tables were filling up. She couldn't tell Justin that she didn't want to sit at the same table with Rhyder, and there was no other objection she could make to the choice.
Reluctantly she walked toward it. His blue gaze swept uninterestedly over her as she set the plates on the table on the opposite side from where he was sitting. His attention was directed to the couple seated beside him. In seconds Justin returned, balancing two plates while holding on to a cheesecloth bag of clams.
"I don't know what to eat first," the woman across from Gina declared with a laugh.