Read Sail Away Online

Authors: Lisa Jackson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General

Sail Away (9 page)

BOOK: Sail Away
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“Will do, Mr. Drake. I’ll let him know you radioed.”

“Thanks,” Adam said, wondering if Victor would show up in the company helicopter to personally throw Adam out of the lodge and make sure that Marnie’s virtue remained intact. After all, in Victor’s opinion, Marnie was keeping company with a thief and traitor—the very devil himself. That thought warmed the cockles of Adam’s vengeful heart. There was a chance that Victor would confide in Simms, and Simms, outraged that his lady fair was in the hands of a criminal, would come charging up to the island as well. That would be even better.

Adam would be waiting. But he had to convince Marnie to spend another couple of days in the lodge. That shouldn’t be too hard; he’d just have to lie a little, and lying was becoming easier all the time. As he saw the situation, he was battling for his reputation, for his ability to make a living. He thought of the California investors who’d dismissed him so summarily. Brodie had said it all. “We can’t very well hand over several million dollars until we’re absolutely certain that what happened over at Montgomery Inns won’t happen to us.”

So Adam had to clear his name, and the only man who had been able to help him at all had been Gerald Henderson. But even Henderson’s information had been sketchy. Gerald had been a CPA and worked in accounting with Fred Ainger. He was convinced that Adam was innocent, but Adam hadn’t been able to pry any more information out of him. Either Gerald didn’t know who the guilty parties were or he was afraid of retribution.

Adam’s back was to the wall. And if he had to lie to Marnie to get what he wanted, so be it. It only followed that if he had to use Marnie as bait to get to her father, that’s what he would do. After all, it wasn’t as if he were putting her in any danger. But once she discovered that he’d deceived her, all hell was sure to break loose.

He only hoped it happened after he got his audience with Simms or Victor Montgomery.

 

Marnie combed her wet hair. Shampooing had been difficult without hot water. She’d had to heat water on the fire, then she’d sponged all the dirt from her skin. She was drying her hair near the flames when she heard Adam’s tread on the porch. The door burst open and he strode in, as grungy as she was clean, and deposited a huge bag on the floor.

“You brought more supplies?” she asked, eyeing the bag.

“Everything I could carry.”

“But why? We’re leaving…” Her voice faded as she understood. “Something’s not wrong with the
Marnie Lee,
is it?”

“She’ll be fine,” Adam said easily. “But there’s another storm brewing—might be worse than the last. The Coast Guard advised us to stay put.”

She dropped her comb, her hair forgotten as she glanced at the window and the overcast day beyond. “Another storm?” she said, her heart sinking at the thought of being cooped up with Adam any longer. His restless energy made her nervous, and the way he stared at her, as if trying to read her mind, bothered her. “You called the Guard again?”

“Mmm.” He was unpacking the bags, laying out more food and supplies on the hearth. “I thought I should explain our position. And I wanted an updated weather report.”

“It would be better if you hadn’t,” she said, walking to the window where she balanced a knee against the sill and rubbed her arms. The horizon was bleak. The waters seemed lonely. Where once she’d spied three fishing boats, now only one trolled the steely depths.

As a young girl she’d spent a lot of time on the ocean. Her father had taught her to read the weather’s slightest signals. A fragile breeze stirred the branches of fir trees near the lodge, but the sky was far from dark.

“When’s this storm supposed to hit?” she asked, trying to keep the suspicion from her voice.

“Early afternoon. Maybe sooner. No way to tell.” He tossed a piece of mossy oak onto the fire and kicked it into place. The flames crackled and hissed. Adam rubbed his hands on his jeans. “The weather can turn quickly up here.”

“I know, but I think we could limp into port,” she said, testing him, though she really doubted that he would lie to her. What would be the point? No doubt he was as anxious to be rid of her as she was to lose him.

Adam shrugged. “It’s your call, Marnie, but it wouldn’t hurt to wait it out. The boat’s holding water now, but one more shot against that hull and it might split wide open.”

“It wouldn’t take long to make it to Chinook Harbor or even Deer Harbor.” She bit on her lower lip thoughtfully, resting her hands on the windowpane. She wasn’t used to making these kinds of decisions alone, and Adam wasn’t much help. Not that she wanted his help, she told herself. This was, after all, her bid for independence.

“You’re right,” he said suddenly, before she could change her mind. “We can probably make it. Okay, let’s go.” He grabbed his bag and the two sleeping bags and shouldered open the door. “Kill the fire.”

“It couldn’t be any worse than last night,” she pointed out as he walked outside. She ignored the fire and followed him onto the porch. The wind blew harder than she’d expected, and she watched as the first thin drops of rain began to drizzle from the leaden sky.

“Last night was bad enough,” he said, squinting as he stared at the horizon. “But this storm, bad as it’s supposed to be, should blow over soon and why take a chance?” He was across the porch now, starting for the path. “However, if you’re sure you want to try it, just pack what you need. We can leave the supplies here.” Head bent against the rain, he started along the sandy path that led through the rocky forest, to the beach.

Indecision tore through Marnie. What if he were right? What if she, in her foolish anxiety to leave this place, put the
Marnie Lee
in jeopardy? Then all her quick words about standing on her own would come back to haunt her. Her father and Kent would never let her forget her aborted attempt at freedom. “Adam! Wait!” She ran the length of the porch and watched as he turned on his heel, his back rigid, his face, as he spun to glare at her, a mask of impatience.

His jaw was dark with the start of a beard, his lips thin and compressed, his brown eyes reflecting anger. “Make up your mind, Marnie. What’s it gonna be?”

She checked the sky again. It suddenly seemed more ominous. The clouds were burgeoning. The timeworn phrase, better safe than sorry, flitted through her mind. “We can wait. A few more hours won’t hurt, I suppose.”

Tossing her a look that silently called her a wishy-washy female, he hauled the bag onto his shoulder, brushed past her and headed back inside.

“Women,” he muttered, making the word an insult.

Marnie bit back a hot retort and waited a few seconds before she followed him back into the lodge. The man really got under her skin. Who was he to sneer at her? It wasn’t as if he’d been invited on her ill-fated cruise. He’d stowed away, like the thief he probably was. She stormed inside where Adam was once again opening up his packs. To look busy, she stoked the fire and prodded the logs, causing flames to shoot to the back of the blackened fireplace. Adam’s eyes never left her backside. She could feel his gaze boring into her. Well, he could look all he wanted. She’d put up with him for a little longer, but if the storm didn’t break by mid-afternoon, or if she didn’t see any evidence of a serious squall on the horizon, she’d pack everything up herself, if she had to, and sail to Chinook Harbor. Adam Drake could do whatever he damn well pleased.

 

“Drake? She’s with Adam Drake?” Kent sputtered, his eyes rounding incredulously as he stood in the middle of Victor’s Seattle office. “What the hell’s she doing with him?”

“I wish I knew.” Victor reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, withdrew his pipe and opened the humidor on his desk. “I would’ve known earlier, but the captain of the Coast Guard ship that took the message called Port Stanton before he reached me here.”

“We’ve got to go get her! That man’s crazy. You saw how he barged in on your party, and I don’t have to remind you what he did to our publicity!” Kent snapped the local section of the paper onto Victor’s desk. The headlines, bold and black, announced:

Disgruntled Employee Returns

To Opening Of Puget West

Adam Drake, whose employment with Montgomery Inns was terminated last year when half a million dollars disappeared…

“I know what it says,” Victor grumbled, clicking his lighter to the bowl of his pipe and inhaling. He let out thick puffs of smoke. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, the first thing I’d do is impound that damned boat of his—the one he left at Port Stanton. The security guards saw him take off in a boat, so he must have doubled back and left it at the hotel.”

“Maybe—”

“Then, I’d go up to Deception Lodge and haul Marnie back here! For God’s sake, Victor, no one can even guess what Drake’s got up his sleeve!”

“You think he’ll hurt Marnie?” Victor asked, eyeing Simms as he paced nervously in front of the desk.

“He’s desperate. After that fiasco last night, I did some checking through a P.I. who owes me a favor. I’d already had him looking into Drake because of the problems last year. Anyway, according to the P.I., Drake’s planning to get back into the business. But there’s a catch. Anyone he approaches for financing turns him away. He’s talked to groups from L.A., Houston and Tokyo. No one will touch him.”

Victor drummed his fingers on his desk as he considered his nemesis. Once he had trusted Drake with his fortune, and had anyone asked him about the most ambitious vice president he’d ever promoted, Victor would’ve replied that he would trust Drake with his very life—or the life of his daughter. He’d had that much faith in the bastard. But, of course, his opinion had plummeted when he’d realized that Drake had slowly but surely embezzled him out of a sizable chunk of his wealth.

The money hadn’t really been an issue, but the lack of loyalty had. Victor required absolute loyalty from his employees. In return, he treated them well. But not, apparently, well enough for a scoundrel like Drake. He glanced up at Kent, edgy as he paced from the windows to the bar and back. It took all of Victor’s willpower to remain calm. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but there’s nothing I can do.”


Nothing you can do?
Marnie’s your daughter, for crying out loud!”

“Precisely.” Victor’s fist connected with the top of his desk, jarring his arm. “And if I interfere in her life, she’ll never forgive me!”

“She might not get the chance,” Kent said, his face flushed. “Drake’s backed into a corner. And we all know how a cornered wolf reacts. You could press charges against him for kidnapping—or trying to steal the
Marnie Lee!

“We don’t know what the hell happened to put Drake on the
Marnie Lee,
so I can’t start making wild accusations. Besides, I don’t give a damn about that boat.”

“Well, I do!” Kent said, his face reddening. “Remember, half of it’s mine.
I
should press charges.”

Victor waved off that argument. “Forget it. At least for now. According to the Coast Guard, Drake plans to put up for repairs in Chinook Harbor.”


He
plans. What about Marnie?”

Victor clamped his teeth onto the stem of his pipe. As far as he was concerned, Marnie had gotten herself into this mess, she could damn well get herself out.

“Well, what’re we going to do?” Kent demanded, coming over to stand in front of Victor’s desk and leaning over the cluttered surface.

At that moment Kate tapped lightly on the office door and poked her head in. “Ty Van Buren on line two.”

“Thanks, I’ll take it,” Victor said, then noticed the nervous twitch of Kent’s mouth. The poor kid was worried sick about Marnie. “There’s nothing we can do right now.” He reached for the phone. “Except wait. It’s Drake’s move.”

Chapter Six

T
he afternoon wore on, the weather growing slightly worse, but the storm that had been predicted never developed into anything more serious than a slight squall. As the hours dragged by, Marnie was on edge, overly aware of Adam in the lodge, his maleness seeming to fill the cavernous rooms. She felt the weight of his gaze, smelled his musky scent, heard his tread as he moved from room to room, pacing the lodge like a lion. Some of the time he’d spent chopping wood, as if he expected to be here longer than a few hours, or to focus some of his energy, she didn’t know which. He’d also scouted and explored the lodge stem to stern and top to bottom. Marnie hadn’t accompanied him. The less she was forced into contact with him, she figured, the better for both of them.

They hadn’t said more than a dozen words to each other. Marnie had done some exploring herself, kept the fire burning, and sorted out the supplies Adam had brought from the boat, all the while keeping one eye on the weather. If only they had a radio, she thought in frustration as the night loomed ahead, then she’d hear the weather updates and know what to expect.

As it was, she was facing another night alone with Adam, and the hours marched steadily onward. The shadows in the rooms lengthened, and Marnie silently kicked herself for not following her instincts and taking the boat to port. She should never have trusted Adam. He’d probably invented the whole story. But why? No, his lying to her didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t about to kid herself into believing that he
wanted
to stay here with her.

Her stomach grumbled, and she eyed the sorry prospects for a meal. She heard Adam walk into the room, and without looking over her shoulder, she snagged two pieces of bread and a jar of peanut butter. “So what happened to your storm?” she asked, spreading a thin layer of peanut butter on one slice of bread. Not exactly hearty fare, but the sandwich would have to do.

She took a bite and twisted on the hearth so that she faced him. Adam, who had been in the basement, brushed the cobwebs from his hair but didn’t answer immediately.

“The storm,” she repeated. “Remember? The one that kept us trapped here all day? The one with the gale-force winds that the Coast Guard was so worried about?”

He shoved up his sleeves. “Maybe it’ll hit tonight.”

“Maybe,” she replied, studying him as she took another bite. Would he lie to her? But why? It just didn’t make sense.

She watched as he moved to the window and scanned the sky, as if he were looking for something, expecting something to appear in the gloomy heavens. Perhaps he had been telling the truth. Maybe he did expect a storm of hurricane proportions. Still, she wasn’t convinced. She decided to call his bluff. “Maybe you didn’t even call the Guard.”

Tossing a glance over his shoulder, he rained a sarcastic smile in her direction. “Why would I lie?”

“You tell me.”

He snorted and faced her again, his hands resting lightly on his hips. She tried to keep her gaze on his face, but couldn’t help noticing the way his fingers spread over the pockets of his jeans where the faded denim stretched taut across his lower abdomen. She quickly averted her eyes, focusing on the window instead.

“You disappoint me, Marnie.”


I
disappoint you?” she repeated, startled. Why, all of a sudden, was she so aware of him? Was it the storm gathering outside, the charge of the forces of nature, or the warm atmosphere in the lodge that made her realize just how intimate the situation had become? Her stomach clenched, and she pushed the remains of her sandwich aside. A few seconds before she’d been ravenous, now she couldn’t swallow another bite.

“I thought you were different.” He turned back to the window and propped his foot on the sill as he stared toward the sea.

Knowing she shouldn’t ask, but unable to stop herself, she said, “Different from what?”

“The rest.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she waited, her senses all keyed on her reluctant companion. The back of his neck was tanned bronze, and his hair curled behind his ears. His buttocks, beneath his jeans, shifted as he threw one hip out to balance himself.

Marnie’s throat was suddenly as dry as a desert wind, and she realized that she’d been holding her breath, waiting. But for what?

Adam was the sexiest man she’d met in a long, long while and, damn it, she was responding like a boy-crazy teenager. Perhaps it was just the surroundings and the fact that she was imprisoned here with him, but she was more attuned to his lazy sensuality than she’d thought possible.

His voice caused her to jump. “Everyone at the company thought I ripped off your old man. But you—” he pressed his palms against the damp panes “—well, I guess I expected too much.”

She felt an immediate need to explain herself, as if she should be ashamed for her actions, though she hadn’t done anything wrong. What did she care what Adam Drake thought of her? He could be the sexiest man alive and there was still a chance that he was a thief. Maybe that was the cause of her fascination with him, she thought darkly. The fact that he was truly forbidden fruit.

“You said you knew Gerald Henderson?” he asked, before her thoughts took her too far from the conversation.

“Mmm.” She slammed back to reality and hoped the heat in her cheeks was from the fire and not from her ridiculous fantasies.

“What kind of a man would you say he is?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I only knew him as an employee,” she admitted. “He worked in the accounting department with Fred Ainger and Linda Kirk. I met him at meetings and company parties and occasionally in the halls or cafeteria, but I never got to know him personally.” She was glad for a turn in the conversation, though she sensed that Adam was leading her into dangerous waters. Nonetheless, talking about Montgomery Inns was better than the emotion-charged silence and her own imagination.

“Would you say Gerald was dishonest?” Adam asked, rubbing his index finger over his thumb.

“Absolutely not.” Henderson had worked for Victor Montgomery for twelve years before his sudden retirement last spring. There had never been a word of impropriety linked to him.

“He wasn’t even close to sixty-five. Why do you think he retired?” Adam lifted his head, his hard gaze locked with Marnie’s, and Marnie’s breath caught in her throat. For a heart-stopping second she thought she saw more than just a single question in Adam’s eyes, as if he were just as aware of her as a woman as she was of him as a man. She swallowed with difficulty, and his gaze, golden brown and unwavering, held hers.

“I told you earlier that I thought Gerald was having health problems,” she finally responded when she captured control of her tongue again. Oh, God, if only he’d quit staring at her! “Stress-related, or allergies, I think. Anyway, he didn’t come back to work for the hotel and was supposed to go on to another job.”

“You ever see the medical bills?”

“No, but I wouldn’t. It’s not my department…”

His razor-thin lips curled into a smile that was a blatant sneer at her naïveté, and her temper started to rise.

“He reported to Fred,” she said quickly, wondering why, all of a sudden, his opinion of her mattered in the least.

“And Fred reported to…?”

“Personnel on matters like this, otherwise to…Kent.”

“Who, in turn, reported to your father,” he said, filling in the obvious blanks.

“Yes.” Suddenly defensive, she felt as if she owed it to her father to straighten Adam out. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Drake, but my father didn’t steal money from himself. That’s ridiculous.”

One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked likeness of a smile. But his eyes were cold and serious. “Henderson seems to think that someone close to Victor is cheating him. And despite the general low opinion of my reputation at the company, Henderson believes I was framed.”

“By whom?”

“That’s the half-million-dollar question, isn’t it?” he drawled, his eyes still trained on her face as if he expected some sort of reaction from her.

“How were you ‘framed’?” she asked, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm from her words.

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted, and for the first time since she’d discovered him aboard the
Marnie Lee,
she was convinced of his sincerity. He let out his breath in frustration and shoved both hands through his hair.

“Henderson couldn’t tell you?”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t. He’s afraid, I think. I couldn’t get any more information from him.” Adam eyed a scuff mark on the floor and rubbed it with the toe of his worn running shoe. The room was beginning to grow dark, only pale light filtered through the glass to illuminate the rough angles of his face. For a second Marnie wondered about him, about his private life. As far as she knew, he’d never married, but she wished she knew why. He was handsome, his features sensual, his body firm and hard. He was intelligent; he’d displayed his sharp business acumen on more than one occasion. Until last year, when all hell had broken loose, he’d been a successful corporate executive. At that point he’d had good looks, money and a future that could only be described as stellar.

Until he’d been accused of theft, Adam Drake had been considered a real catch—one of the most eligible bachelors in Seattle.

If one were looking.

Marnie wasn’t. Or at least she told herself she wasn’t.

Even so, her gaze was drawn to the vee of his shirt front and the dark hairs that curled against his tanned skin. Afraid he might catch her staring, she focused on the wall behind him and ignored the irregular beat of her heart. It was natural to be uncomfortable around him. She was a woman, after all, and she obviously wasn’t immune to his rugged maleness. A pity. If only she could look past that raw sexuality that seemed to emanate from his deep-set eyes.

“So you think Kent set you up?” she finally asked, though her throat was uncomfortably tight.

Adam looked pained. “I never would have guessed he’d have the brains or the guts to do it.”

“Henderson could be wrong.”

“He could be. But he isn’t.”

“Well, even if he’s right—and I’m not saying I go along with this—he could be talking about someone else in the company, someone other than Kent.”

“Still trying to defend that bastard, are you, Marnie?” Adam shook his head and muttered something indistinguishable under his breath before adding, “Some women never learn.”

The words cut like the bite of a whip. She, alone, had stood up for him to her father, pointing out that a man was innocent until proven guilty. Though she wasn’t completely convinced of his innocence, she couldn’t believe he was actually a thief. Oh, she’d been back and forth on the subject, never really knowing, but she’d argued Adam’s case bitterly to her father. Not that it had made any difference. In Victor’s book, Adam had done the unthinkable: he’d betrayed a trust.

Of course, Adam had no way of knowing about her feelings or the fact that she and her father had been at odds over his dismissal. Though she wanted to rub it in Adam’s face right now, she didn’t. He wouldn’t believe her anyway. His last cutting remark had been testimony to that.

“Believe me, Drake, I
do
learn from my mistakes. And the mistake I made was in believing you and letting you stay here with me. If you ask me,
you’re
the bastard,” she said coolly, though her blood was beginning to boil. “Ever since we got on this island, you’ve insulted me and made innuendos about my father.” Involuntarily, her fingers curled into tight fists. “If you don’t like the present company, I suggest you hike to the nearest town. There’s a map in the
Marnie Lee.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. He reached into his back pocket and whipped out a folded piece of paper. “Got it,” he said. “But if I leave, what will you do?”

“Muddle through somehow,” she replied. “I really can take care of myself.”

He cocked an insolent eyebrow. “That remains to be seen.”

“Watch me!”

“Oh, I will,” he said, and his voice was suddenly silky smooth. To Marnie’s consternation, he sauntered across the room to the archway leading to the old dining room.

She couldn’t help herself. Knowing that she was flirting with danger, she shoved herself from the hearth and walked quickly across the dusty plank floors, through the arched entrance to the dining area and down two creaking steps to the bar where Adam, behind the counter, was wiping a glass with the tail of his shirt. On the bar, thick with dust and cobwebs, was a bottle of whiskey. The label was yellowed and blurred with grime.

“You’re not really going to drink that, are you?” she asked, appalled.

Mocking her, he poured a stiff shot into the glass and threw her own words her way. “Watch me.” He tossed back the drink and didn’t so much as flinch as the liquor hit his throat. He held up a glass to her.

“I’ll probably have to get you to a hospital to pump your stomach,” she said. “Who knows what was in that…” She walked closer and motioned to the bottle.

“Who cares?”

“I do,” she said crisply. “I didn’t want you on this trip in the first place and I certainly don’t want to clean up after you…or play nursemaid.”

BOOK: Sail Away
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