Across the River of Yesterday

'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