by Nora Roberts
“No, not yet,” Justin said before Serena could speak. “What do you suggest?”
“Justin—”
“Here.” The old woman cut Serena off, turning to push back some cloth at her right. With a few wheezes and grunts she pulled out a cream-colored dashiki-style tunic with a border of bold rainbow stitches. “Special,” the woman told Justin, pushing it into his hands. “Lots of purple here, like your lady’s eyes.”
“Blue,” Serena began, “and I’m not—”
“Let’s see.” Justin held it up in front of her, surveying the effect through narrowed eyes. “Yes, it suits you,” he decided.
“You wear it for your man tonight,” the woman advised, already folding it into a bag. “Very sexy.”
“An excellent idea,” Justin agreed as he started to count out bills.
“Wait a minute.” Serena pointed at him with the hand that still held the straw bag. “He is not my man.”
“Not your man?” The woman went into peals of laughter, rocking back and forth in the chair until it screeched in protest. “Honey, this is your man for sure; you can’t trick a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. No indeed. You want the bag, too?”
“Well, I …” Serena stared down at the straw bag as if she hadn’t a clue how it had gotten into her hand.
“The bag, too.” Justin peeled off more bills. “Thank you.”
The money disappeared into her huge hand as she continued to rock. “You enjoy our island.”
“Now, wait—”
But Justin was already pulling her along. “You can’t argue with a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, Serena. You never know what curse she’ll toss at you.”
“Nonsense,” she stated, but glanced cautiously over her shoulder to where the big woman sat rocking. “And you can’t buy me clothes, Justin. I don’t even know you.”
“I already did.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have. And you paid for my mother’s bag.”
“My compliments to your mother.”
She sighed, squinting as they emerged into daylight. “You’re a very difficult man.”
“There, you see? You do know me.” Taking her sunglasses from the top of her hat, he slid them back in front of her eyes. “Hungry?”
“Yes.” The corners of her mouth twitched, so Serena gave up and smiled. “Yes, I am.”
With his eyes on hers he slowly circled her palm with a fingertip. “How about a picnic on the beach?”
It wasn’t a simple matter to ignore the tingling that was now racing up her arm, but she managed a casual shrug. “If you had food, and if you had transportation, and if you had some cold island concoction to drink, I might be interested.”
“Anything else?” Justin asked as he stopped to lean on the hood of a Mercedes.
“Not that I can think of.”
“Okay, let’s go, then.” Pulling keys out of his pocket, Justin walked around to unlock the passenger door of the car.
With her tote bag dangling from her fingers, Serena stared. “Do you mean this is your car?”
“No, this is the car I rented. There’s a cooler in the trunk. Do you like cold chicken?”
When he tossed the bags into the backseat, Serena put her hands on her hips. “You were awfully damn sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“Just playing the odds,” he claimed, then cupped her chin in his hands and brushed her lips with his. “Just playing the odds.”
Serena dropped into the passenger seat not certain if she admired or detested his sheer nerve. “I’d like to know what cards he has up his sleeve,” she muttered as he rounded the hood to join her.
She noticed Justin drove as he did everything else, with the arrogant ease of control. He seemed acclimated to driving on the left side of the road as if he did so daily.
They passed under the fat leaves of almond trees, beside thick green grapes, which would be purple in another month. Branches laden with the bright orange blossoms typical of the island danced in the breeze as they drew nearer to the sea. He didn’t speak, and again she noticed he had that oddly admirable capacity for silence. Yet it wasn’t soothing, but exciting.
It occurred to her as they drove by the graceful colonial homes of the wealthy toward the public beaches that true relaxation was something not often experienced around a man like Justin Blade. Then the thought came quickly—too quickly—that relaxation was something she rarely looked for.
Turning in her seat, Serena exchanged the tropical beauty of Nassau for Justin’s handsome, almost hawkish features. A gambler, she mused. A shipboard acquaintance. Serena had too much experience with the two to trust in any deep, lasting relationship. Still, she thought that if she were careful, she might enjoy his companionship for a few days.
What harm could there be in getting to know him a bit better? In spending some of her free time with him? She wasn’t like some of her coworkers in the casino who fell in and out of love with each other or lost their hearts to a passenger only to be miserable and desolate at the end of a cruise. When a woman had managed to keep her heart in one piece for twenty-six years, she wasn’t about to lose it in ten days … was she?
Justin turned to give her one of his cool, unsmiling looks. Butterflies fluttered in her throat. She’d be very careful, Serena decided, as if she were walking through a minefield.
“What are you thinking?”
“About bombs,” she answered blandly. “Deadly, camouflaged bombs.” She gave him a quick, innocent grin. “Are we going to eat soon? I’m starving.”
With a last brief look, Justin pulled off to the side of the road. “How’s this?”
Serena gazed out over the white sand to the intense blue of the ocean. “Perfect.” Stepping from the car, she took a deep breath of blossoms and sea and hot sand. “I don’t do this often. When the ship’s in port, I usually catch up on my sleep or my reading, or take another shot at getting a tan on deck. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been docked at this island.”
“Didn’t you take the job on the ship to travel?” He took a small cooler and a folded blanket from the trunk.
“No, it was the people really. I wanted to find out just how many kinds of people there were in the world.” Serena slipped off her sandals to feel the warm sand on her feet. “We have more than five hundred in the crew, and only ten Americans. You’d be amazed at the variety of people you meet. It’s like a floating U.N.” Taking the blanket from under his arm, Serena snapped it open, then let it billow onto the sand. “I’ve dealt cards to people from every continent.” She seated herself Indian fashion on the edge of the blanket. “I’ll miss that.”
“Miss it?” Justin dropped down beside her. “Are you quitting?”
Tossing her hat aside, Serena shook back her hair. “It’s time. I want to catch up with my family for a while before I do anything else.”
“Anything else in mind?”
“I’ve been thinking about a hotel-casino.” She pursed her lips in thought. It was a project she intended to discuss with her father soon. He’d know the best way to go about financing property and a building.
“You’ve had the experience,” Justin mused, believing she was considering applying for a job as a dealer. “The only difference would be you’d be on dry land.” An idea germinated in his mind, but he decided to wait before approaching her with it. “Where’s your family?”
“Hmm? Oh, Massachusetts.” Her gaze fell on the cooler. “Feed me.” When he opened the lid, she noticed the napkins and cutlery came from the ship. “How’d you manage that?” Serena demanded. “The kitchen has a policy against making up picnic lunches.”
“I bribed them,” he said simply, and handed her a drumstick.
“Oh.” She took a healthy bite. “Good thinking. What’d you get to drink?”
For an answer, Justin drew out a thermos and two plastic glasses with the ship’s logo. “How’s the chicken?”
“Terrific. Eat.” She accepted the cup of dark pink li
quid he handed her and sipped cautiously. It was richly fruity, smoothed with island rum. “Oh-oh, the Celebration’s speciality.” She gave the drink a dubious look. “I usually make it a policy not to get within a yard of one of these.”
“You’re on shore leave,” Justin reminded her, plucking a piece of chicken from the cooler.
“And I want to live to tell about it,” she murmured. For the moment she concentrated on the chicken and the pleasure of having no more to do than enjoy the breeze off the ocean.
“I would’ve thought the beaches would be more crowded,” Justin commented.
“Mmm.” Serena nodded as she drank again. “Most of the tourists who aren’t shopping are on guided tours or scubaing on the other side of the island. It’s off-season, too.” She gestured with the drumstick before she dropped it onto a napkin. “The beaches aren’t so quiet during the rush. But there’s really a lot to see and do in Nassau besides swimming and sunbathing.”
“Mmm.” He watched her brush some sand from her thigh. “So our carriage driver said.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t ferry over to Paradise Island to the casinos for the day.”
“Are you?” Leaning over, he took her hair in his hand. “It isn’t the only game in town.”
Justin touched his lips to hers, intending to give her a light, teasing kiss. But the intention evaporated at the warm, ripe taste. “How could I have forgotten how badly I want you?” he murmured, then drowned her muffled response with hard, unyielding pressure.
His tongue eased between lips he parted expertly as he pressed her back against the blanket. Feeling the muscled ridges of his body against hers, Serena started to object, but her arms were already around him, pulling him closer, her mouth was already searching, moving avidly under his.
The sun filtered through the leaves of the palm they lay under, flickering light over her closed lids until it was only a red mist dancing in front of her eyes. He kissed her as she’d never been kissed before, with lips and teeth and tongue, nibbling then devouring, then seducing, then possessing. Mouth clung to mouth in a taste more potent than the rum they’d sampled.
A gull soared toward the sea with a long, wailing cry neither of them heard, then with a flick of a wing he was gone as if he’d never been. When Justin ran his hands down her arms, Serena felt his touch over every inch of her body. Her breasts ached from it; her thighs trembled. Longing for the imaginary to be real, she moaned and moved under him in invitation.
Ripping his mouth from hers, Justin pressed it against her throat as he struggled to cling to the fine edge of reason. He wanted her, wanted to feel her soft skin grow hot and moist under his hands. He wanted to touch every subtle curve and dip, feel every pulse hum, and taste and taste until they were both raging.
Desire clawed at him with a sharpness he’d never experienced before as her hands moved over his back, pressing and kneading while he fought to remember they were not alone in a dark, quiet room. Had a woman ever taken him so far with only a kiss? He could only think of how much further she would take him when he was free to have all of her.
Nibbling and sucking, he ran his mouth up to her ear. “Come back with me now, Serena.” He licked the lobe before he caught it between his teeth. “Come back to my cabin with me. I want you.”
His words seemed to float into her consciousness, almost drifting away before their meaning penetrated her passion. “No.” Hearing her own weak protest, Serena fought to strengthen it. “No,” she repeated, struggling away from him. Sitting up, she hugged her knees until her breathing leveled. “No,” she said for a third time. “You have no right to—to—”
“To what?” Justin demanded, grabbing her face in his hands and jerking it back to him. “To want you or to show you that you want me?”
His eyes weren’t cool now, but light and angry. Serena remembered her own first impression of ruthlessness and forced back a shudder before she pushed his hands away. “Don’t tell me what I want,” she tossed back. “If you’re interested in a little shipboard fling, go find somebody else. You shouldn’t have any trouble.” Springing up, she strode furiously toward the sea. Justin caught her arm and spun her around.
“And don’t tell me what I’m interested in,” he ordered curtly. “You didn’t even know where we were. I could have taken you on a public beach in broad daylight.”
“Really?” She threw her head back, infuriated that he spoke no less than the truth. “Well, if you’re so sure of that, why didn’t you?”
“Normally, I like my privacy, but keep pushing and I’ll make an exception.”
“And pigs fly,” she said evenly as she turned toward the surf a second time. She’d no more than gotten her toes wet when he grabbed her again. For a moment Serena thought she had miscalculated. The rage in his eyes was nothing to tamper with, but she’d never had much luck controlling her temper once it had gotten beyond a certain point. When Justin dragged her against him, she cursed him.
He wanted to crush that hot, furious mouth again. Desire was raging through him as quickly as his temper, and one fed the other. Knowing what the outcome would be if he gave in to the first, Justin gave in to the second. Serena landed on her bottom in the shallows.
Shock covered her face first, then utter fury. “You—you animal!” Scrambling up, she launched herself at him, intent only on revenge. But when he grabbed her arms to ward her off, he was grinning.
“Would you believe you look beautiful when you’re angry?”
The dip in the water hadn’t cooled her temper. “You’re going to pay for that one, Justin Blade.” With her arms hampered she compensated with a kick but only ended up back in the water, tangled with him. “Get your hands off me, you jerk!” She shoved, submerged and came up sputtering. “Nobody pushes a MacGregor around and gets away with it!”
In his attempt to prevent her from drowning both of them, his hand connected with her breast. The next moment he found that his mouth had covered hers again while his hand caressed through her wet, clinging shirt. Though he felt her moan of response, she continued to struggle, taking them both under again. He tasted salt, and her lips; he felt the slender thighs pressed against his as he rolled her over with the next wave. With a muffled laugh he heard her swear at him again as she gulped in air. Then the water tossed their bodies together. The surf sprayed and ebbed, shifting the sand and shells beneath them. They lay, half covered with water, breathing hard.
“MacGregor?” he repeated suddenly, shaking his head to clear it. Drops of water from his hair splattered on her face. “Serena MacGregor?”
She pushed her own dripping hair out of her eyes and tried to think. Her body was throbbing with the potent combination of anger and desire. “Yes. And the moment I remember some of those wonderful Scottish curses, I’m going to dump them all on you.”
For the first time she saw pure surprise on his face. It had the effect of draining her anger and replacing it with bewilderment. Then his eyes narrowed in an intense study of her features. Still panting, Serena stared back, only to become more confused when the smile spread slowly over his face. Dropping his forehead on hers, Justin chuckled, then roared with laughter.
The sound was appealing, but as she started to respond to it, Serena concentrated on the uncomfortable lump of sand and shell digging into her back. “What’s so funny?” she demanded. “I’m soaking wet and full of gritty sand. I’ve little doubt that my skin’s been slashed by shells, and I never even finished my lunch!”
Still laughing, he lifted his head, then gave her a brotherly kiss on the nose. “Ask me again sometime. Come on, let’s rinse off and eat.”
Chapter 3
Serena MacGregor. Justin shook his head as he reached into the narrow closet for a shirt. It was, he decided, the first time he’d been completely confounded in years. When a man made his living by his wits, he couldn’t afford to be taken by surprise often.
Strange that he hadn’t noticed the family resemblance, but then, she had little in com
mon physically with her large, broad-featured, red-haired father. She was more a modern version of the little painted miniature Daniel kept in his library. How many times had he been to that fortress in Hyannis Port over the years? Justin wondered. Rena, as the family called her, had always been away at school. For some reason he had developed a picture of a scrawny, bespectacled scholar with Daniel’s flaming hair and Anna’s eccentric dignity. Yes, Serena MacGregor was quite a surprise.
Odd, he thought, that she would take a job that would do little more than pay her room and board when she was reputed to have an I.Q. that rivaled her father’s weight and enough capital to buy an ocean liner for her personal pleasure yacht. Then again, the MacGregors were a strange, stubborn lot, prone to the unexpected.
For a moment Justin stood, naked from the waist up, his shirt hanging forgotten from his fingertips. His torso was dark and lean, the skin stretched taut over his rib cage, where on the left it was marred by a six-inch scar. He was remembering.
The first time he had met Daniel MacGregor, Justin had been twenty-five. A run of luck had given him enough money to buy out his partner in their small hotel on the Strip in Las Vegas. Justin wanted to expand and remodel. For that he needed financing. Banks were usually dubious about lending large sums of money to men who made their living with a deck of cards. In any case, Justin didn’t care for bankers, with their smooth hands and dry voices. And the Indian in him had little faith in a promise made on paper. Then he heard of Daniel MacGregor.
In his own fashion, Justin checked out the stock wizard and financier. He gained a picture of a tough, eccentric Scotsman who made his own rules, and won. Justin contacted him, diddled around by phone and letter for over a month, then made his first trip to the fortress at Hyannis Port.
Daniel worked out of his home. He didn’t care for office buildings where one had to depend on elevators and secretaries. He’d purchased his plot of land near the sea with the wealth he had earned first with his back, and then with his mind. Daniel had realized early that he could earn more, very satisfactorily, with his mind. Then he had built his home and his empire—to his own liking.
It was a huge barn of a house, with massive corridors and enormous rooms. Daniel didn’t like to be crowded. Justin’s first impression of Daniel as he led the way into the tower room that served as his office was of bulk … and wit.
“So you’re Blade.” Daniel drummed his fingers on the surface of a desk that had been carved from a giant California redwood.
“Yes. And you’re MacGregor.”
A grin creased the broad face. “That I am. Sit down, boy.” Daniel noticed no change of expression at his use of the term and folded his hands over his chest as Justin sat. He liked the way Justin moved; he’d judged men on less. “So, you want a loan.”
“I’m offering an investment, Mr. MacGregor,” Justin corrected him coolly. The chair was designed to swallow a man. Justin sat in it with an ease that only accentuated the readiness to spring. “With my property as collateral, of course.”
“Umm-hmm.” Daniel steepled his hands as he continued to study the man across from him. Not a simple man, he concluded, observing the aristocratic features. Cool, controlled and potentially violent. Comanche blood—warrior’s blood—but not a brawler. Daniel came from good warrior stock himself. “Umm-hmm,” he said again. “What are you worth, boy?”
An angry retort sprang to Justin’s mind and was left to smolder. Reaching down, he brought up a briefcase.
“I have the financial papers, the appraisals and so forth.”
Daniel gave a gusty laugh and waved them away. “You think you’d have gotten this far if I didn’t know all the figures you have in there? What about you?” he demanded. “Why should I lend my money to you?”
Justin set the briefcase back on the floor. “I pay my debts.”
“Wouldn’t last long in the business if you didn’t.”
“And I’ll make you a great deal of money.”
Daniel laughed again until his blue eyes watered. “I’ve got money, boy.”
“Only a fool doesn’t want more,” Justin said quietly, and Daniel stopped laughing.
Leaning back in his chair, he nodded. “You’re damn right.” Then he grinned, slapping his wide palm on the desk. “You’re damn right. How much to fix up that little hole in the wall of yours?”
“Three hundred and fifty thousand,” Justin answered without blinking.
Daniel reached into his desk and drew out a bottle of Scotch and a deck of cards. “Stud poker.”
They played for an hour, speaking only to bet. Justin heard the reverberating gong of a grandfather clock from somewhere deep in the house. Once someone knocked on the door. Daniel bellowed at them, and they weren’t disturbed again. The scent of Justin’s cigar mixed with the aroma of whiskey and the ripe fragrance of the overblown roses on the windowsill. After dropping fifteen hundred dollars, Daniel leaned back in his chair again.
“You’ll need stockholders.”
“I’ve just gotten rid of a partner.” Justin crushed out the butt of his cigar. “I don’t want another.”
“Stockholders, boy.” Daniel pushed the cards aside. “You want to make money, you’ve got to spread it around first. A man who plays like you do already knows that.” With his pale blue eyes on Justin’s, he considered a moment. “I’ll lend you the money and buy in for ten percent. You’re smart, you keep sixty and spread the rest around.” After swirling the Scotch, he drained his glass and grinned. “You’re going to be rich.”
“I know.”
Daniel’s gusty laugh shook the windowpane. “Stay for dinner,” he said,