'I can promise you that they don't see it that way.'
There was no bitterness in his words, Amaryllis realized. Just a bone-deep acceptance. Jackson Rye had once been Lucas's friend and partner. In spite of all that had happened, Lucas still honored the old ties. That was why he was here tonight.
The casino appeared to have been designed by an interior decorator who had been torn between decadence and out-right garishness. Amaryllis noted a great deal of green velvet and a lot of gold tassels. The ceiling was mirrored and so were all of the walls. The effect was confusing to the eye.
'It's like walking into a fantasy,' she muttered to Lucas.
'That's the whole point.'
The subdued clang and clatter of various types of gambling machines created a background noise that infused the crowded room with a sense of frenetic energy. Beautifully dressed people hovered around card tables presided over by elegantly dressed croupiers. Gold-suited servers carrying trays of glasses circulated through the room.
'This way.' Lucas guided Amaryllis around the perimeter of the gaming floor.
They walked past more large guards with polite smiles and cold eyes. At the end of a mirrored corridor, they found themselves in a quiet passageway. A man stepped forward.
'Mr. Trent?'
'Tell Chastain I'm here.'
The guard glanced at Amaryllis. 'We were told that you would come alone, sir.'
'As you can see, I didn't. Miss Lark is a friend. If Chastain can't deal with that, you can tell him for me that it's time he visited a syn-shrink. He's definitely getting paranoid.'
The guard hesitated. Then he nodded once. 'This way, sir. Ma'am.'
Lucas and Amaryllis were ushered into a chamber that was thickly suffused with crimson, gold, and black. A small group of people were clustered near a massive carved and gilded desk.
Amaryllis glanced around quickly and tried not to let her disapproval show. Taste was a personal thing, she reminded herself. But there was no getting around the fact that if the casino designer had been torn between decadence and garishness elsewhere, in this room he or she had definitely gone for full-blown tacky.
Heavy red velvet curtains covered the windows. Ornate pillars framed the walls. The furnishings were all gleaming black lacquer and crimson velvet. The red, gold, and black carpet was so thick, Amaryllis was afraid she would trip on it.
'Lucas.' Dillon Rye leaped to his feet. He looked very relieved and not a little embarrassed. 'I am really glad to see you. I'm sorry about this. I couldn't think of anything else to do.'
'Hello, Dillon.' Lucas met the eyes of the man seated in regal splendor behind the desk. 'Chastain. It's been a while.'
'Good evening, Trent.' Nick Chastain's smile was cool. His emotionless eyes flickered toward Amaryllis. 'You must be Miss Lark. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.'
Amaryllis nodded brusquely. 'Mr. Chastain.'
She decided that she did not like Nick Chastain. He was a lean, cold-eyed man who looked to be about the same age as Lucas. He gave the impression that he was a good deal more dangerous than any of the hired muscle who worked for him.
'What do you think of my decor, Miss Lark?'
'It's unusual,' Amaryllis said cautiously.
'Presumably that is a polite euphemism for tasteless, outrageous, and gaudy. Thank you. I supervised the interior design myself.' Chastain's eyes gleamed. 'You must admit that it's a step above Trent's monstrosity of a house.'
'Lucas's home is virtually an historical landmark,' Amaryllis retorted sharply. 'It's a splendid example of the Early Explorations Period. It reflects the exuberant style and vitality of the era. There is no way it can be called tacky. It's beautiful.'
Lucas raised one brow but said nothing.
Nick looked at him. 'She's either in love with you or she has very bad taste.'
Amaryllis blushed furiously. 'You, Mr. Chastain, have exceptionally bad manners.'
Nick smiled briefly. He kept his attention on Lucas. 'I'm a little surprised to see you here, Trent. I expected young Dillon to call his father.'
'Disappointed?' Lucas asked dryly.
'Somewhat,' Nick admitted.
Amaryllis glowered at Nick. 'Lucas is a friend of the family. He has every right to deal with this unpleasant situation.'
Dillon's eyes flickered nervously from Lucas to Nick. 'I don't get it. Why do you care who gives me the money to make good on my debt, Mr. Chastain?'
It was Lucas who answered. 'Chastain prefers to take his money from people who consider themselves his social superiors. He gets a great deal of satisfaction from the fine art of putting very important people in his debt, don't you, Nick?'
Nick shrugged. 'I'll admit it's a good deal more amusing than taking your money, Trent. You've never tried to pretend that you were anything but what you are, a man without family or background, just as I am. Everything you have today you earned the hard way. The Ryes, on the other hand, have always traded heavily on their family's position and connections. They prefer not to deal with our sort. Unless, of course, it's financially rewarding.'
'Now wait just a damn minute here,' Dillon said in heated tones. 'I resent that comment. Lucas is my friend. He was my brother's partner. He's practically a member of the family.'
'Whatever kinship your family felt toward Trent ended the day your brother died,' Nick said flatly.
'That's not true,' Dillon protested.
Nick ignored him. He looked at Lucas with a malevolent gleam in his cold eyes. 'I must admit, it would have been rather pleasant to watch Calvin Rye stand in front of me and try to hold his nose while he wrote out a check.'
'My money spends just as well as Rye's does,' Lucas said.
'True. And I do have a great fondness for money, regardless of the source.' Nick spread his hands. 'I shall be happy to take yours. But tell me, why are you bothering with Dillon's small financial problem? We both know that you don't owe the Ryes a damn thing.'
'Let's just say it's for old times' sake.' Lucas glanced at Dillon. 'How much?'
Dillon swallowed. 'Uh, sixty-five thousand.'
Amaryllis was aghast. She turned on Dillon. 'Sixty-five thousand? You just gambled away sixty-five thousand dollars in this casino? How could you do such a foolish thing? No wonder you called Lucas. I can just imagine what your folks would say if they learned of this nonsense. Where's your sense of family honor and responsibility?'
Nick gave a crack of laughter.
Dillon turned red.
Lucas pulled his checkbook from an inside pocket of his jacket. 'Amaryllis has strong opinions on some things.'
'Yes, she does, doesn't she?' Nick's grin held a hint of genuine amusement. 'A regular little paragon of founders' virtues. I heard you were shopping for a wife, Trent. Is Miss Lark a candidate from a marriage agency?'
'That isn't any of your business, Chastain.' Lucas scrawled his name on the check. 'Here's your money. Where are Dillon's vouchers?'
Nick nodded to one of the silent men who hovered nearby. 'Give Trent the vouchers. The debt has been paid in full.'
Without a word, the vouchers were handed to Lucas. He pocketed them without comment and turned to Dillon.
'Let's go,' Lucas said.
Dillon was already heading for the door. 'You bet.'
'A poor choice of words,' Amaryllis said in frosty tones.
Dillon winced. 'Yeah, I guess so.'
Lucas started to follow Amaryllis and Dillon through the door.
