Across the River of Yesterday

One

"Now, don't get excited." Dane's voice was soothing. "It's not as bad as it sounds."

Serena Spaulding counted to five. "What do you mean, it's not as bad as it sounds?" She pronounced every word distinctly into the telephone receiver. "How could it be worse? You tell me you've been flung into a Latin American jail on a drug charge, and that they're threatening to throw away the key and forget you ever existed. Sounds fairly serious to me."

"But it's all a mistake. You know I'm not into drugs. I think they even know it's a mistake, but they want to save face by putting on a big show of authority. All you have to do is come down and vouch for my character and they'll release me into your custody."

"Dane, they don't put people into jail and then release them so easily. I'd better call the American Consulate."

"No!" Dane's voice was suddenly sharp. "You know the first thing they'll do is call Mother and she'll call-" He broke off. "Look, it's very simple. Ill be off this island within a day, if you'll just come down and sign their damn papers. I tell you, they know they're in the wrong. I'm not even in a regular jail. They've put me up in a fancy hotel and they're wining and dining me as if I were a VIP. They even sent me a call girl last night. Does that sound like you're going to run into any trouble?"

"No." Serena wearily rubbed her temple. It sounded absolutely crazy, but what else could she expect from her brother? He had fallen into one brouhaha after another from the day he had discovered how amusing life could be if you didn't conform to any of the rules. And she had found it amusing, too, she admitted to herself. Involving herself in Dane's occasional adventures lent a badly needed touch of color to her life, to the regime of hard work and self-discipline she imposed upon herself. There was no question that Dane provided plenty of that color. However, he had never been thrown into prison before. She had a sudden memory of a horrifying film she had seen on television about a young man who had been arrested in Turkey on a drug charge. But this wasn't Turkey, she assured herself quickly, this was… Lord, she didn't even know where he was. "Dane, where the devil are you?"

There was a crackling on the line and then Dane's voice came clearly. "Just contact Colonel Pedro Mendino when you arrive. They have me quartered at the Hotel Cartagena."

"All right, I'll come right away, but where are you, dammit?"

"I told you. I'm in Mariba, Castellano. I have to hang up now. See you soon."

Mariba. Serena slowly replaced the receiver. The shock that had rippled through her was totally irrational. It wasn't as if she hadn't heard the name many times in the last ten years. Castellano was a hotbed of drug-running and smuggling and lately had been in the news constantly because of a revolutionary group challenging the military junta that governed the island.

She had simply grown accustomed to thinking of Mariba through a kind of dreamlike haze, which had nothing to do with her present existence. Now, abruptly, it was no longer far away. Her brother was imprisoned under wildly improbable circumstances, and she was going to return there after ten years.

She closed her eyes and drew a long quivering breath. Why was that night in Mariba suddenly so alive for her again? There had been months when she had forgotten about it entirely, and when she did remember, it was as if she were watching a film starring another woman entirely. The woman she was now bore no resemblance to the frightened girl who had clung to a stranger all through a long, stormy night. Ghosts. The girl she had been was a phantom, and so were Gideon Brandt and Ross Anders and the ramshackle ruin of a house on the outskirts of Mariba. None of it existed for her any longer. There was only the hard- won reality of the life she had created for herself. Was Gideon still there? The chances were very slim; he had been a wanderer and Castellano was not a place where anyone stayed for long. He probably was somewhere on the other side of the world, regarding the memory of their night together with the same remoteness she did. If he remembered her at all.

She turned briskly away from the phone. She'd have to close up the cottage and pack tonight. Tomorrow on the way to the airport she would stop at the bank and take out a sizeable amount of money and put it into traveler's checks. The situation in Mariba sounded weird in the extreme. Those papers Dane's jailers wanted her to sign very likely would have a high price tag, if everything she had heard about the government of Castellano were true.

"I think we're going in the wrong direction," Serena repeated, leaning forward to tap the taxi driver on the shoulder. "Perhaps you didn't understand me, it's the Cartagena Hotel and I'm sure we passed it five minutes ago. I saw a sign-" "Si, the Hotel Cartagena." The driver smiled over his shoulder, his white teeth gleaming below his wide black mustache. "We are going in the right direction. You will see." The cab suddenly leaped forward as he pressed the accelerator. "I will get you there pretty damn quick."

"Not too quick," Serena said dryly as she leaned back in the seat. "I'd prefer to get there in one piece." Maybe there were two Hotel Cartagenas. It didn't seem likely in a town the size of Mariba, but the driver seemed very sure there was no mistake.

She opened her soft leather bag, took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at her forehead. Heavens, it was hot. She would have to pick a taxi with no air conditioning. Not that she'd had much choice. There had only been two taxis available at the taxi stand at the airport, and she supposed she should be grateful to get transportation at all. Castellano's raffish reputation didn't foster it as a tourist spot, and she had seen larger private airports in the States.

Maybe she had been the one making the mistake. She had seen Mariba only at night and the town seemed totally unfamiliar to her in daylight, and there was no question she had been tense and on edge since the moment the small propeller plane had landed. It was idiotic to be so nervous, she assured herself. She would sign the papers, pay the bribe, and she and Dane would be off this island tomorrow.

"Right ahead," the driver said cheerfully. "I told you it would be pretty damn…" He trailed off as he stopped before a wrought-iron gate and blew the horn. The gates began to swing open slowly. "Electric. Pretty damn neat, huh?"

"Very neat." Serena's lips curved in amusement. Modern technology had evidently come even to Castellano. In this case, efficiency had not been allowed to interfere with the exquisite workmanship of the gates. They closed behind them with a quiet swoosh and the taxi started up the tree- lined drive.

The gardens of the hotel were really lovely. Beautifully manicured lawns unfolded before her like a bolt of emerald velvet, orderly beds of tropical flowers bloomed with vivid color, and Jasmine trees were bowed with fragrant white blossoms. If the hotel was as beautiful as its grounds, Dane must be very comfortable…

She drew in her breath so sharply it made her dizzy. They had rounded the curve and a two- story house stood before them. Red tiled roof, gleaming white stucco walls, a fountain spraying sparkling water set in a patio. It was all crazily familiar. A dog should be barking, she thought half hysterically. It should be dark, not daylight and Frank should be running…

"We are here." The driver drove up before the front door with a little flourish.

"This is no hotel." Her lips felt as if they didn't belong to her. "You've brought me to the wrong place."

The driver got out of the car and hurried around to open the door for her. "It is a little surprise. The Texan wants to see you."

"The Texan," she repeated numbly. "And just who is the Texan?"

"Gideon. Who else?" Ross Anders stepped out of the shadows of the front door alcove. "Hello, Serena. How are you?" His dark eyes went over her admiringly. "Besides being very beautiful, very elegant, and very sophisticated?"

"Fine." She moistened her lips with her tongue. "Just fine. How are you?" He looked very much the same as the last time she had seen him. There was a little more gray in his hair and he was wearing a steel-gray business suit that fit his blocky form with tailored elegance. She automatically identified it: Saville Row.

He smiled and stepped forward to help her out of the car. "Very well." He turned to the taxi driver. "Good job, Luis. Take her luggage out of the trunk and set them on the patio. I'll have one of the servants bring them in later."

Serena was suddenly jarred out of the stunned bewilderment into which she had been plunged when she'd seen the house. "No, I can't stay. I have to go to the hotel." She turned to the driver who was now at the trunk, busily extricating her suitcase. "Put it back in the trunk. I'm not staying."

The driver ignored her except for his beaming smile, which was beginning to annoy her exceedingly. He took the bag from the trunk and set it down.

"Did you hear me? I'm not staying."

"You are, you know," Ross said softly. "Luis isn't going to take you anywhere we don't want you to go. Gideon is in the library discussing business. Why don't you let me take you to your room to freshen up?"

"This is crazy." Serena could hear her voice tremble and tried to steady it. "Look, I have to go to my brother. He needs me."

He chuckled. "He needs absolutely nothing at the moment. He's being kept very well entertained."

"You know about Dane?" Serena asked incredulously.

Ross smiled. "He's a nice kid, a little wild, but he's got the right stuff. His coloring reminds me a little of you, Serena, but I understand he's only a half brother?"

"Yes," she said dazedly.

"He plays a mean game of poker." Ross's hand was on her elbow, propelling her gently toward the front door. "I nearly lost my shirt to him last night."

"They let you see him?"

"Oh yes, Gideon has me check on him every evening to make sure he's comfortable. Pedro Mendino can be… unpredictable."

Fear rained through her. "What do you mean unpredictable? Is Dane safe?"

Ross opened the door. "As in his mother's arms. Don't worry. Gideon won't let anything happen to Dane."

"Don't worry?" Serena whirled to face him, her violet eyes blazing. "What do you mean, don't worry? My brother has been imprisoned, I've been brought here and told I can't go anywhere without Gideon's permission and now you say this colonel who's holding Dane is 'unpredictable'! Why the hell shouldn't I worry?"

Ross blinked. Then a slow grin creased his cheeks. "My, how our meek little Serena has changed. I think Gideon's in for a surprise." He closed the door and gestured toward the graceful curving staircase. "I think I'll let him answer your question. I've done more than my share in this enterprise. Why don't you go up to your room. It's the same one you used last time. I'll tell him right away you want to see him."

"I want to see him now."

"He wants to see you too," Ross said soothingly. "Only the most urgent matter would have kept him from greeting you personally. As soon as he's finished his business hell be right up. Okay?"

"No!" She turned and started up the stairs. "It's not okay. Nothing is okay." She glanced down at him over the oak bannister. "But I'm going to make damn sure it will be soon."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "I bet you will."

Serena slammed the door of the bedroom and threw her shoulder bag on the chair by the door. She couldn't remember when she had been so furious. What the devil was happening here? When she had arrived she had been shaken, filled with painful nostalgia and… fear. This house, Ross, and, most of all, Gideon, were all tucked safely into the past. The vulnerable girl she had been that night was also in the past, and she had no desire for that girl ever to become real to her again. She had made many painful sacrifices to make sure those vulnerabilities didn't exist any longer.

She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was probably getting upset for nothing. He had probably heard by chance she was coming back to Mariba and thought it would be pleasant to see her again. Ten years had passed and their night together was bound to be as dreamlike to him as it was to her. The autocratic manner in which he'd arranged their meeting was annoying, but surely not threatening, and he was evidently being quite helpful to Dane.

Her eyes flicked open with shock. How did he know Dane was her brother? She hadn't given him her last name. If he hadn't known her last name, how could he possibly know she was coming to Mariba? Again, she shivered with fear. What did she know about Gideon Brandt? Nothing. He was an enigma seen through the eyes of a child, a child in a state bordering on emotional collapse. This episode was very strange. Was Gideon obsessed?

She moved slowly to the single window across the room. Decorative wrought iron bars guarded the windows as in many Spanish homes. Had the bars been there when she had been here before? She couldn't remember. Then, Gideon had said something about screens and keeping out the "critters." Heavens, she was becoming paranoid. She refused to panic. There had to be some reasonable explanation. She would see Gideon, they would talk and exchanged reminiscences and then she would leave.

She heard a low murmur of voices and her gaze was drawn to the patio directly below her window. Sunlight glinted and then was captured in the crisp, tawny hair of the man standing just below her. Gideon. She felt a tiny shock. His back was to her, but she recognized him instantly. He was dressed casually, a white short-sleeved shirt, black jeans and boots, all emphasizing the tough leanness of his body. He was standing beside a tall, brown-haired young woman in a Dior suit; whose lush figure would have given Raquel Welch an inferiority complex. The woman smiled at Gideon with unmistakable intimacy as he helped her into the back of a long navy blue limousine.

Then he stepped back and his hand lifted in farewell as the limousine pulled away.

A faintly rueful smile curved Serena's lips when she turned away from the window. So much for Gideon's being obsessed. Gideon's important "business" that had taken precedence over her arrival was far sexier than she would ever be. And the completion of the "transaction" had probably taken place in the bedroom, not the library. A man who had such women at his beck and call would have trouble remembering, much less harboring an obsession for, an inexperienced seventeen-year-old.

The knock on the door was impatient and the door swung open before she could answer.

Gideon stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over her with a hungry eagerness that stopped the breath in her throat. Then he smiled, the deep slashing dimples indenting his lean cheeks. It was exactly the same. Warmth and gentleness and sunlight.

"I'm sorry I made you wait." He came forward, his steps springy and charged with vitality. She had forgotten the way he walked, the impatience, the grace, the directness. "Something came up at the last minute and-" He stopped. "Lord, you're beautiful. I knew you would be. I've even seen pictures, but it's not the same."

"No?" She whispered. She hadn't really forgotten, she realized. She had buried the memories, but not erased them. Now she knew she had remembered everything about him, the drawling nuances of his voice, the way he raised his left eyebrow, those dimples. It was all coming back to her, flowing through her in an irresistible tide. It was crazy. She had known him for such a short time. No one could leave so deep an imprint in a few hours. She shook her head to clear It. "Pictures?"

"Not many. You're fairly publicity-shy, aren't you? The one in Women's Wear Daily was pretty good though." His fingers reached up to touch her hair, drawn back in a neat chignon. "This is pretty, but I like it better down. All this sophistication kind of intimidates me." He shook his head. "Funny. It never bothered me with any other woman, but in you, it scares the hell out of me."

She found herself smiling involuntarily at the boyish admission. "I'm not particularly sophisticated. I live a very simple life in a cottage in upstate New York. Most of the time I wear jeans and a ponytail. Your lifestyle is probably more sophisticated than mine." Her smile faded as she remembered the Dior-garbed sex symbol Gideon had just escorted to the limousine. She stepped back. "In every way." She met his eyes and said crisply, "Now what the hell is going on here?"

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. "Wouldn't you rather discuss it over dinner? I have a French chef now." He smiled teasingly. "Or I can make you another omelet?"

She shook her head. "Now," she said crisply. "Right now."

He shrugged. "I was afraid you'd be a little upset. Okay, I wanted you here on Castellano. Well, that's not exactly true. I wanted you anywhere I could get you, but I figured on Castellano we'd have a better chance to get to know each other."

She stared at him, stunned. She spoke with great deliberation. "And may I ask what you did to get me here?"

He made a face. "You're not going to like it."

"I'm sure I'm not. I haven't liked one thing that's happened to me since I arrived here."

His expression betrayed mischievous thoughts. "I could work at changing that impression. I'm always ready to oblige a lady."

Then, as he saw her expression darken stormily, he sighed. "Oh, all right, I lured your brother from Monte Carlo to Mariba, and bribed the local guardia to arrest him on fake drug charges. It was the only way I could think to get you here."

"Is that all?"

"Well, I did make sure you wouldn't be able to leave by air or sea until I gave the word." He smiled crookedly. "The officials here are very easy to impress with bills of high denominations."

"I can't believe this. It's utterly outrageous. Why, for heaven's sake?"

"I didn't think you'd come if I invited you," he said simply. "I didn't find you until two years ago, but you could have found me anytime." He paused. "If you'd wanted to find me. But you didn't want to see me again, did you, Serena? Even after your husband died five years ago, you still didn't come back to me."

She felt an unreasonable surge of guilt. "There was no reason to come back. We were strangers, ships passing in the night. There was nothing to come back for."

He nodded. "And you would have given me that same bull if I'd come up to New York. It would have been a hell of a lot harder for me to pry you out of the pretty little foxhole you'd dug for yourself on your home ground." He smiled gently. "And I've always been one for the easy way."

"You won't find this way easy." Her eyes were blazing. "What makes you think you can do something like this? Did you grow bored with your little island chickadees and decide you wanted something new?"

"You're not new." His brown eyes twinkled. "Our relationship is over a decade old."

"This is not funny."

"I didn't say it was." He shook his head. "Sorry, but I can't seem to stop smiling. I'm so damn happy to see you."

She felt a melting sensation deep within her and instinctively braced against it, letting her exasperation and frustration smother it before it could damage the barriers she was frantically erecting between them. "I'm not glad to see you. I was grateful for your help that night but…"

"Easy," he said quietly. "Don't fight so hard. There's no use your tearing yourself apart like this. I knew you would shy away from me. I thought about it a long time before I decided this was the best way for us. If I'd found you right away, we wouldn't be having this problem. You wouldn't have had time to convince yourself that we didn't mean anything to each other."

"We don't mean anything to each other. We don't even know each other."

"That's why you're here, to finish what we started ten years ago. Do you remember what I said about the way we belong together? Well, that will be the core and we'll see if we can start a chain reaction.

Friendship, sex, learning all about each other- we've got it all ahead of us."

She drew a deep breath. "Listen, I'm going into town, and you're going to call that colonel and tell him to release Dane. Then Dane and I are going to leave Mariba."

He slowly shook his head. "Not until you give me my chance. I'll make a bargain with you. Give me a week. Not so much to ask, is it? Spend a week with me and I'll promise to let you and Dane leave Castellano."

She eyed him warily. "And that will be the end of it?"

He grinned. "No, then I'll follow you back to your foxhole and dig in beside you, but at least you'll be in your own backyard."

She threw up her hands. "What kind of bargain is that?"

"The only one I'm about to offer you." His smile faded. "Take it or leave it. Otherwise, Dane will continue to whoop it up at the Hotel Cartagena until he has a long gray beard, and you'll stay here as my guest until you change your mind." His expression was suddenly hard as flint. "I don't bluff, Serena. I don't like using muscle, but I know how to." He turned away. "Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is at eight. I'll see you then."

"I want dinner in my room," she said jerkily. "Prisoners aren't required to observe the social amenities."

He turned at the door. "Then we'll have dinner in your room," he said quietly. "The two of us. I thought you'd prefer to use Ross as a buffer, but I'd like nothing better than to be with you one-on- one." He suddenly chuckled and tapped his chest. "In fact, I can't imagine anyone this one would rather be on. Do you have any idea how much I wanted you that night?"

Her eyes widened. "No. You acted-"

"Like a damn eunuch?" His mouth tilted in a lopsided grin. "I didn't think you were capable of coping with my libido as well as whatever was tearing you apart. Besides, you were just a kid." His voice lowered. "But you're not a child now, so you'd better start thinking about coping."

"And you're threatening to rape me?"

"Not on your life. You're going to want it as much as I do. Sex is going to be a hell of a lot of fun, once we get over our first anger and resentment."

"We? I'm the one who should be resentful. You have no right to be angry."

"Maybe I don't have the right, but I do." His lips tightened and something wild and primitive flared in his eyes. "I resent your marriage, I resent your belonging to another man, and I resent the fact that you did your damnedest to forget me. I've tried to reason it away, but it's still there. I've waited for a long time, and for most of that time I was as angry and frustrated with you as you are with me right now. I've been close to exploding so many times, it's become practically second nature with me. I deserve my chance, dammit." He opened the door with barely controlled violence. "And I'll do anything on earth to get it. I can't-" He broke off and drew a deep breath. "Cripes, I didn't mean to say any of that. I was just going to play it nice and easy. It's been too long."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." Serena's voice was shaking slightly. Gideon's intensity had been electrifying, blazing out at her, enveloping her. Her memory of him had always been of gentle, glowing tenderness, not this fiery sensuality. "It's been too long. I'm not the same person."

He studied her thoughtfully. "I know you've changed, but that doesn't mean we can't be good together. It might even be…" He stopped and then asked abruptly, "Do you still paint?"

"Occasionally," she answered, surprised. "I don't have much time these days."

"You wanted to be an artist, yet you became a fashion designer." His eyes were narrowed on her face. "Why?"

"It was necessary." She shrugged. "I had a commercial talent that could be exploited. I'm very successful at what I do."

"I know. I'm just curious why the daughter of Countess Mara de Lancombe and the stepdaughter of one of the richest men in England felt the need to make such a compromise." His gaze held her own and his lips curved in a bitter smile. "Your Italian husband had nothing to offer besides the title, from what I understand, but surely your mama and papa were willing to help."

"You know a great deal about me." Her gaze slid away from his.

"Not enough. That's one of the reasons you're here. Why didn't you ask them for help?"

"That's none of your business." Her now defiant gaze returned to him. "It's my life, and you have no part in it. Everyone has to make compromises. I just grew up."

"I see." There was a touch of sadness on his face. "You did it quite beautifully. I just wish I'd been around to watch you and help you out now and then. I would have liked that very much."

That same poignant melting occurred within her again, even stronger now. Just when she thought her resentment of his actions had drowned any spark of softness, he said something like this. "Gideon, don't- Let me go. None of this is going to do any good."

"We'll see. If not, it's back to the foxholes." He turned. "Eight o'clock. We'll dress for dinner. Downstairs or here? It's up to you."

The door shut behind him.

At seven-thirty Serena took a last look in the mirror. If sophistication could intimidate Gideon, then the lounging pajamas she had chosen to wear tonight would accomplish her purpose. The violet trousers were so full they could easily be mistaken for an evening skirt, and the matching loose tunic top of silk suggested rather than outlined her curves. However, the square neckline was so low it barely covered the tips of her breasts and the silver scrolled trim that bordered the neckline blatantly called attention to their swelling fullness. She had worn the outfit only once before, to a press party introducing her spring line, and brought it with her only because she might need its glittering sophistication to charm an official and help her spring Dane from jail. It was a little too revealing for her personal taste, but if it served now to prove to Gideon how much she had changed from the wide-eyed child he had known so briefly, so much the better. She slipped on a pair of high- heeled silver sandals, smoothed her chignon into sleek order, and nodded with satisfaction at her reflection. Confidence, elegance and sophistication were what she had targeted, and she had hit the bull's-eye.

Ross met her at the foot of the stairs, dressed in a dark blue tuxedo, and gave an admiring whistle, half beneath his breath. "Lovely." His gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts revealed by the tunic. "Not exactly safe, but lovely."

"It's very fashionable. I should know. I designed it myself," she said. Then, realizing how defensive she had sounded, she continued quickly, "Things around here have certainly changed." She gestured at the gleaming black and white tiles on the floor and then at the exquisite crystal chandelier lighting the foyer. "Aubusson carpets, a Ming vase in the upstairs hall, and your sartorial elegance. Do you always dress for dinner?"

He shook his head. "Hardly ever. We get too much of these monkey suits when we're on the job. No, this is strictly in your honor."

"On the job?"

"Gideon owns a chain of casinos and resort hotels throughout the Caribbean and the Bahamas. The largest one is on Santa Isabella, which is our home base now."

"Castellano isn't your base?"

Ross shook his head. "Gideon kept the house and his contacts on the island, but we haven't done any business here since the early days. Castellano is too unstable for Gideon's taste."

"I can't see Gideon as a tycoon."

"No? Talk to some of the people who have gone up against him sometime. Gideon is scrupulously honest, but that doesn't keep him from being a damn tough businessman." He waved his hand to a door to the left of the foyer. "Let's go into the library and I'll get you a drink. Gideon said he'd be a little late for dinner."

"More business?" she asked with the lightest of sarcasm.

He hesitated. "Yes, I guess you could call it that."

She had a fleeting memory of the voluptuous sensuality of the woman she had seen with Gideon. "I imagine you could call it a good many things." She sailed past Ross and entered the library.

An amused smile tugged at Ross's lips as he crossed to the cellarette on the far side of the room. "Do I detect a shade of annoyance in your tone? I gather Gideon wasn't able to pacify you."

"Did you really think he could?"

"No, but there was always a chance. Gideon can be very persuasive. What would you like? Wine, a highball?"

"White wine." Her eyes narrowed on him across the room. "Just how deeply are you involved in all this?"

"Up to my neck," he admitted as he poured wine into two fluted glasses. "Gideon did the ordering and I did the running. I lured Dane to Mariba with the promise of wine, women, and song." He moved across the room toward her. "I delivered on all three by the Way. Dane is having one hell of a party at the hotel. You're going to have trouble getting him to leave Mariba."

"You placed him in a dangerous position with a government everyone in the world knows is corrupt."

"But they're not stupid, and they know better than to try to pull a fast one on Gideon. They learned a hell of a lot of respect for him before he pulled out of Castellano. The guardia will earn their bribe, or he'll take it out of their skins."

She shivered. The man Ross was talking about was completely alien to the man she had known. She took the glass he handed her and looked down into its clear golden depths. "The taxi driver called him 'The Texan.' He said it in capital letters, as if there were only one."

Ross shrugged. "It's a nickname he picked up when we first arrived here. You'll find out it's a sobriquet well-known in the Caribbean these days." He took a sip of wine. "And as far as this hemisphere is concerned, there is only one. You can't confuse him with anyone else."

"No, he's definitely an original," Serena said faintly. She lifted her glass to her lips. "Would you like to tell me why you helped him with this insanity?"

"I owed him," Ross said simply. "I helped you to get away from him. I thought I was doing the right thing, but it didn't turn out that way. He went crazy worrying about you. He tore Mariba apart, trying to find a clue to where you had gone. We finally decided you must have arrived by ship and left the same way."

Serena nodded. "I told you I had somewhere to go"

"And that you were married. I thought it might make a difference to Gideon." His lips twisted. "It didn't. He said if the bastard had sent you wandering the streets in such a state, he didn't deserve to keep you. So we started looking for you." He took another sip of wine. "As soon as the money started coming in he hired a detective agency. You didn't leave much of a trail and it took a long time. Two years ago they tracked you down."

"Two years." Her smile was faintly skeptical. "He wasn't overeager to resume our acquaintance. Perhaps he's more enthralled with the idea than the reality. I'm sure he's had plenty of distractions to amuse him."

"Women? He's a man. What did you expect?"

"Nothing. It's nothing to me if he has an entire harem. That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"I'm tempted to bring up the old chestnut about protesting too much," he said lightly. He checked his wrist watch. "It's almost eight-thirty. We'd better go into dinner. Gideon said not to wait for him, if he didn't show up."

"How considerate. He practically abducts me and then can't be bothered to show up for dinner. I don't believe he knows what he wants."

"Wrong." Gideon stood in the doorway. "I know exactly what I want, it's just that everything seems to be conspiring to keep me from getting it." He came forward, smoothing his rumpled hair with one hand. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and ruffled dress shirt and wore them with as much ease as he had jeans and boots. "Sorry to be late. I had an emergency and then I had to change again and-" He broke off, his gaze on the expanse of creamy flesh revealed by the neckline of Serena's tunic.

Serena felt the hot color rush to her cheeks. What was wrong with her? She couldn't remember when she'd blushed last. "It's rude to stare."

"Sometimes being a poor ignorant cowboy has its advantages." He hadn't taken his eyes off the deep cleavage swelling from the low bodice. "Unlike city dudes, when something is offered we reach out and take. If you hadn't wanted me to look, you wouldn't have put yourself on display like this." His gaze reluctantly moved up to her face. "Now, would you?"

"Of course I would. Low necklines are in this year, particularly the Elizabethan look. It's very stylish to-"

"Make a man want to drag you off to the nearest bed?" he finished softly.

"No, that isn't what I meant at all. Not everyone is-"

"I suggest we go into dinner," Ross interrupted quickly. He took Serena's glass and set it on the Sheraton desk behind him. "Gideon, leave her alone. She's been through enough today."

Gideon seemed mildly surprised. "My, how protective you're being. Maybe I shouldn't have left you alone for quite so long." Gideon's glance returned to Serena's breasts. "I sure as hell wouldn't, if I'd known she was going to pull an Eleanor of Aquitaine." "Yes, you would." Ross's gaze searched Gideon's face. "Is everything okay?"

Gideon nodded. "Better. For now."

"Eleanor of Aquitaine?" Serena asked, bewildered.

"She rode bare-breasted at the head of her troops into the fray," Gideon told her solemnly. "Isn't that what you're doing, Serena? I've never seen a challenge more beautifully obvious."

"Dinner," Ross said again, taking Serena's arm and nudging her gently toward the door. "With all possible speed."

Serena heard Gideon's low chuckle behind her as Ross ushered her quickly from the room.