No woman had ever interested him for long.
Except me, Lissa thought.
He’s mine.
I simply intend to keep him.
That’s all there was to it.
She lifted her gaze to Jocelin, who lay on her stomach on the foredecking.
You have about one hour of life left, dear.
Jocelin was a strikingly beautiful woman even in the Gulf Coast resort city of Sarasota where beauty, spawned in luxury, is little more than commonplace.
Jocelin was tall, slender, and dark. With the figure of a Venus, the face of a madonna, and the morals of an alley cat. She was the kind of woman who lived enwrapped in her sleek inner satisfaction. She petted herself with a self-delight and self-assurance that was unholy.
Right now she was wearing a white bathing suit that was startling against her deep tan. She turned slowly and sat up, almost as if she had felt the weight of Lissa’s gaze.
The eyes of the two women met and a thin smile came to life on Jocelin’s full red mouth. She looked at the golden blonde beauty with a sneer for something that was second rate. A little gleam of triumph was in her eyes.
A small red explosion took place inside Lissa’s head as the silent communication of rivalry and hate continued.
Lissa was trembling with hatred.
Never had she hated anyone so much.
And there was the second part of the reason. Killing Jocelin was going to be a pleasure.
Under the bright sun and kind beauty of the deep blue sky the cruiser cut its way past Longboat key. There in the distance, solid and pleasant, stood the pastel houses and private docks with bobbing cruisers. The surf whispered lazily against the pure whiteness of the beach. The cruiser turned in a long arc away from the key, its prow showering glittering jewels of spray, its wake a path of silver. A swooping pelican gliding over the cruiser spread his webbed feet and came to a skiing contact with the water. He folded his wings, shook himself, and bobbed contentedly, as if the beauty of the whole scene were plucked out of heaven itself.
Lissa felt the wave of redness leave her brain, and her vision cleared. Her head still pounded a little at the temples.
She broke the interlocking of gazes and glanced at Carl. A pulse jumped in her throat. He was looking at her, then at Jocelin, as if the two-way silent conversation of hate had become a three-way communication. His eyes were narrow and cold.
“Fix me a drink,” he said.
“Yes, Carl,” Lissa said, getting out of the deck chair.
Jocelin smiled faintly and patted a yawn with the back of her hand. “I’ll have scotch on the rocks, darling.”
Lissa was trembling when she went into the small, gleaming stainless steel and chrome galley below deck. “I’ll have scotch, darling,” she mimicked as she raged inwardly. “Enjoy your scotch, you cheap pig. Enjoy every last moment you’ve got left.”
Lissa fixed the drinks and carried them up on deck. As she came up, the breeze, light as feathers, ran its fingers through her hair and touched her fevered cheek lightly.
The breeze helped. So did the drink.
She wouldn’t have another. She must have a completely clear head and all her resources for the act ahead.
It would be very simple.
Lissa had the agility of a tawny amphibious animal in the water, and an ability to hold her breath that would have brought admiration from a pearl-diving South Seas native.
Once they were in the water, Jocelin simply couldn’t match her.
“Here you are, darling,” she handed Carl his drink. She could feel the weight of his eyes on her. She gave him a smile. It brought no change to his face.
With a forced lightness, she turned and rounded the flying bridge of the cruiser to pass a drink to Jocelin.
“Is it poisoned, darling?” Jocelin asked softly, not loud enough for Carl, at the helm, to hear.
“Of course it is,” Lissa said.
Jocelin laughed, sipped the drink, and said, “Why don’t you give up? You haven’t a chance, you know.”
“I don’t care to discuss it.”
“Why not? You’ll have to sometime—unless you are capable of bowing out with grace.” Jocelin looked at her over the rim of her glass. “Don’t be such a greedy minx, Lissa. You’ve had him far longer than anyone else.”
“Long enough for it to become an unbreakable habit,” Lissa said.
Jocelin sighed. “It’s really going to be quite painful for you, poor dear.”
Uninterested in any reply Lissa might make, Jocelin turned forward, lay on her stomach, propped on her elbows, her drink held in her two hands.
Lissa looked at the dark tanned back and felt dizzy for a moment. It’s going to be sweet, she thought, so very damned sweet.
She didn’t return to her deck chair. She stood on the foredeck a moment, little droplets of spray catching on her tight blue bathing suit like rhinestones.
She held the thought of the future moment in her mind. It had been easy to arrange it. Jocelin had been more than willing to go when Lissa had suggested the jaunt last night.
Lissa turned, went to the bridge and stood beside Carl. He was remote, giving no indication he knew she was there. He stood solidly on his rather short muscular legs, handling the boat with the touch of a master, like a man who feels stronger than the sea itself.
She wished he would say something. Anything. He said nothing, and the old burn began to grow in her. It was a devil inside her. It lashed her senses and seethed within her flesh. It made her willing to do anything to have him admit she was there, flesh and blood. A desirable woman. A human being.
She laid her hand lightly on his arm.
He looked at her. “Having fun?”
“I always do.”
“That’s one thing I’ve always liked about you, Lissa.”
“Boredom and me,” she said. “We don’t mix.”
She went aft and sat down, feeling buoyed up, as if from a victory.
Carl looked back long enough to take
