Iris Johansen - Across the River of Yesterday

"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-"