Legends (18 page)

Kash paused. “You have to understand that most of Douglas’s projects serve such dual purposes. He makes a profit, certainly, but he makes improvements, as well.”

Elgiva stared at him, feeling troubled and confused. “Do you know anything about the nursing home he bought a few years ago? The one he demolished to build a parking lot? There were such ugly insinuations about him in the American newspapers. Several of the residents died from the grief of moving.”

Kash nodded. “The home was a disgrace. Elderly people were suffering there. It’s true that Douglas wanted the site, but it’s also true that many years earlier his father had died in that home from an overdose of medication given by a drunken orderly. His father was paralyzed from a boxing injury when Douglas was only a child, you see.”

“I knew about his father’s injury.” Elgiva pressed a hand to her throat. “But I didn’t know that he died in a terrible way.”

“From what Douglas has told me—and it’s something he rarely discusses—his father became too incapacitated to remain at home. The family had no idea, of course, that they were placing him in a nursing facility that was poorly run.”

“So years later, Douglas bought it and shut it down.”

“Yes. And he moved the residents to a much nicer place. The stress of the transfer was something no one could have foreseen. Douglas was horrified by what happened.”

“But he didn’t defend himself.”

“No, not when it would mean discussing his father. He’s a very private man where his family is concerned.”

“And where his personal life is concerned.” She studied the vista of sea and gardens and, on the hillsides beyond the main estate, the red-tiled roofs of small guest houses peeking out of the forest. He would buy the MacRoth land and turn it into a Scottish version of this paradise. He would have to have his privacy there, as he did here. He wasn’t a
cruel man, just one who had never been able to indulge in too much trust.

“You have brought something new to his life,” Kash commented, his tone thoughtful. “He wants to change his life, perhaps.” He looked at a slender gold watch on his wrist. “But for now, he’s about to begin one of his marathon business meetings. I must go.” He stood. “I doubt you’ll see Douglas again before tomorrow. He has a lot of business to catch up with due to his unusual and, might I add, much-needed vacation recently.”

Elgiva smiled through a mist of tears. “Thank you, Kash. I’ll be fine. Thank you for everything.”

He touched her shoulder. “The moments of revelation in life are sometimes small and unnoticed at first. Have patience.”

He left her there alone in the beautiful morning, her mind filled with thoughts of Douglas, the mystifying man whom she loved more than ever.

After two days of nonstop meetings and dozens of phone calls, Douglas felt that he had regained command of his far-flung business deals, including the option on the MacRoth estate. Nettled by his new intentions for compromise, Douglas postponed a decision on its purchase.

He was anxious to spend time with Elgiva, if only to hear her melodic, charming voice raised in some insult to his past, present, and future. Since he’d had people reporting to him about every step she took and every word she said, he quickly learned that she was reading a book beside the lagoon.

Douglas followed a footpath through the lush gardens, brushing aside vines heavy with purple blossoms and palm fronds that rattled against his khaki slacks and white golf shirt. He was going to take time to actually
play
golf as soon as he built a golf course beside MacRoth Hall.

The man-made lagoon resembled something out of a Hollywood fantasy, with lovely, draping trees around the perimeter. At one end a waterfall tumbled over pearl-gray rocks. He caught his breath as he saw Elgiva sitting on the edge of a boulder that jutted over the water, a dozen feet below.

Her hair was a tapestry of beautiful reds and golds held back from her face by jade combs. She wore jade-green shorts that were pleated and loose, like a skirt. With them she wore a white tube top and white sandals, Elgiva in a tube top and shorts. He stopped to admire that incredibly provocative view.

She looked up from her book and froze when she saw him. Slowly she shut the cover, her hands settling atop it with a calculated nonchalance that alerted his suspicions.

“Contemplating some new legends?” he inquired in a jaunty tone as he went to her and dropped to his haunches. The mild taunt was lost as his gaze met hers; the elemental welcome in her eyes held him spellbound. In that second he was tempted to toss her book aside and coax her back on the warm, smooth rock. He sensed that he could succeed easily.

Her face flushed and she chuckled. “This is a lovely spot, Douglas.” She pointed to a long rope that hung over the lagoon’s center from a massive tree limb. “Do you come here to pretend that you’re Tarzan?”

He smiled. “When I was a kid I used to visit a farm owned by my best friend’s grandparents. They had a pond with a rope swing over it. I loved it.”

“So you’re re-creating your childhood, are you?”

“Always, doll. With bigger and better toys than I ever knew existed.” He touched her cheek and watched in delight as her eyes flickered with barely contained response. “You’re looking magnificent. Luxury agrees with you.”

“I have to admit, I like having a hot tub on the balcony outside my bedroom. And I like having a massage every morning. And the food your chef serves
is
very
good. And these clothes”—she sighed and glanced down at herself—“they’re not so bad.”

He stroked the backs of his fingers along her jaw. “Is this the same woman who stormed out of the room two days ago after she accused me of trying to bribe her affections?”

Elgiva shrugged. “I was tired and a wee bit on edge from all that had happened in the day or so before that.” She looked him over happily, making shivers run down his spine. “You’re done with your meetings?”

“Yes. Miss me?”

“I did. I admit it.”

Douglas smiled. He’d been overanxious about her stubborn pride. He’d have her in his bed by tonight, and from then on everything would be perfect between them.

He stood and extended a hand. “Why don’t we go back to the house for cocktails and a little caviar? Afterward we can have dinner together. Followed by a late night cruise on the yacht.”

“I’d love that, Douglas. I truly would.”

Cradling her book, she took his hand and stood. Then she brought his palm to her lips and kissed it. He grinned down at her, feeling almost giddy with relief.

“Ah, El. This is going to be great.” Abruptly he slid his arms under her and picked her up.

The unexpected action made her lose her grip on the book. It flopped into her lap. Douglas stared at the cover.
Sweet Talk—The Art of Manipulating People Through Sexual Innuendo
.

“Oh, dear,” she said in a tiny voice.

He glared at her. “Dammit. Damn it to hell.”

“This book came from
your
library.”

“I never read this book. It was a gift. Why don’t you tell me what else you learned from it? Were we going to play bed games later so that you could try to trap me again?”

She shook her head and her eyes filled with sorrow. But her expression was obstinate. “Put me down, you oaf. I was just trying to fight fire with fire. It shouldn’t surprise you.”

“Fight fire with water, doll.” He stepped to the edge of the boulder and tossed her into the lagoon. His anger gave the toss an adrenaline boost, and she sailed to the center before she splashed down.

Flailing, she grabbed the end of the rope and clung to it. She swiped her hair back and gazed up at him wide-eyed. Douglas crossed his arms over his chest. “Apologize,” he ordered curtly.

It was a wonder that the water didn’t sizzle around her. She pounded the surface with one hand and jerked on the rope with the other. A long stream of Gaelic careened from her lips, and he knew it wasn’t an apology.

“I’ll be waiting at the house when you’re ready to say that you’re sorry,” he announced.

“Go on! And hold your breath until I do!”

“Bye, doll.”

He walked back to the house, sequestered himself to his private suite, and paced its wide balcony with his eyes trained on the gardens below. An hour later she still had not returned.

Disgusted and depressed, Douglas went to his theater and put an old gangster film in the projector. Then he slumped in a back row seat and shut his eyes. As far as Elgiva was concerned, he was still public enemy number one.

From her place in the center of the lagoon, Elgiva watched the sun sink. She uttered a fierce stream of oaths but heard the fear in her voice. Shivering, she looked nervously at the deep pool and turbulent waterfall. Her gaze searched the dense forest around the tops of the rock walls. This place was too secluded; it looked eerie in the long, empty shadows.

Back home, old people would say that trolls lurked in a place like this at night, or that slimy green kelpies with horrible teeth would—no, no, no, she wasn’t going to scare herself with such silliness.

She looked down. The end of the rope floated in the water around her. Elgiva looped it under her armpits and made a crude sling, so that she could let both arms rest. One of the servants would come by eventually, in the morning, perhaps. She’d call for help. If the trolls hadn’t gotten her by then.

Elgiva groaned at her own pride. She’d rather be eaten by trolls than tell Douglas that she couldn’t swim.

Douglas believed that a bedroom should be a haven of private pleasures. He never let work intrude there; he banned the fax machines, the computers, the televisions scrolling stock data and interest rates.

The furniture in his bedroom at the villa was sleek and simple; black lacquer and smoked glass, expensive and elegant. Bookcases overflowed with board games, trivia books, and volumes of crossword puzzles. In a room off the master bedroom were a billiard table, a dart board, video games and a giant television screen surrounded by plush couches. A separate room contained a complete professional gym, and through another door was a gourmet kitchen.

In the center of the master bedroom, underneath an abstract painting of muted, relaxing colors, was a giant water bed covered in black silk sheets and a satin bedspread of stark black patterns on a white background. On a floor of gleaming black marble were white rugs so deep that Sam’s big paws disappeared in them whenever he padded across.

Douglas sat in the middle of his bed, a black silk robe tied loosely around himself, and scowled wearily at the sterling silver clock on a dresser across the room. It chimed eleven times. Elgiva was probably
asleep in her suite by now, dreaming of new ways to aggravate him.

Unable to be still a second longer, Douglas got up and opened all the glass doors along one wall of his suite. The night breezes flooded in, bringing heady scents of the ocean and the gardens. He paced the enormous balcony outside, crisscrossing it in long, angry strides, his shadow chasing him in the light of a full moon.

To hell with indecision. He was going to put his attorneys to work on the MacRoth acquisition. Tomorrow. Elgiva could stop hoping for a compromise. They’d confront each other with the stark reality of the situation; he would own the estate, and if she wanted to be a part of it she’d have to give up her schemes and see things his way.

How could she have run the damned estate, anyway? She and her brother had no money; all the sentimentality in the world couldn’t keep the roof of the manor hall from leaking or renovate rooms that had needed the work twenty years ago. What would she dislike worse: Turning the estate over to him, who’d take care of it, or watching the whole place crumble around her?

He muttered to himself darkly. No more procrastination. With this nonsense about her heritage out of the way, she’d settle down. He was going to make a success of this relationship the only way he knew how—by taking charge.

Indoors, a bell rang softly. Douglas went to an intercom and flicked the switch. “Yeah?”

It was Kash. “Gert and I need to see you. It’s important.” Kash’s voice was harsh with restraint.

“Come to my suite.”

Douglas slipped into black pajama bottoms and tightened his robe. A minute later he opened the suite’s imposing black doors and let his two longtime assistants into the room. Gert, wearing a severe shirtwaist dress, frowned at him. Kash, dressed in white slacks and a white pullover, looked rumpled
and angry. His onyx hair was unbraided and hung about his shoulders in damp, disheveled strands.

Douglas studied the two of them worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

Kash spoke first. “We never expected you to let your personal frustrations turn into petty revenge. It’s not your style, Douglas, and we don’t like it.”

Gert’s arms were rigid by her sides, the hands clenched into fists. “What you did was truly disappointing, Monsieur. I know that Elgiva MacRoth has caused you difficulties, but I’ve also seen how obstinate you’ve been with her. I’ve talked to her a great deal over the past two days, and I’ve seen her side of the issues. You are wrong to covet her estate, Monsieur.” Gert quivered with restraint, but her voice rose. “And you are despicable for leaving her in the lagoon when you
know
she can’t swim!”

A sick feeling of horror rose in Douglas’s throat. “
What?
She can’t swim?” He grabbed Gert’s arm. “Is she all right? Where is she?”

Gert and Kash traded looks of astonishment. “In her suite,” Kash said quickly. “She’s not hurt. I discovered her at the lagoon when I took a walk before bedtime.”

Douglas was already on his way to the door. Gert and Kash caught up with him and blocked his way. “She’s asleep,” Gert said. “Please, Monsieur, she was upset and tired. Please don’t upset her anymore tonight. She’s perfectly all right. I called the clinic and had Nina send up a mild tranquilizer to relax her. She’s asleep. Please.”

Douglas stared at Gert and Kash. “You found her in the lagoon hanging on to the rope?”

Kash nodded. “She had tied it around herself. Other than having muscle cramps from being in the cool water so long, she was fine.”