“You’re not a guest, you’re an employee,” he said quellingly. “And you don’t have a great track record.”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Be grateful that you don’t remember.”
“But I want to know.”
“You’re better served moving on from those events. It’s enough for you to know that you had a…problem.”
A problem that he had exacerbated?
Gemma studied his expression. To be fair, it didn’t look like he’d approved of Mandy’s antics…whatever they had been. Was it possible that he’d had nothing to do with Mandy’s slide from grace?
He forced me. I loved him. I wanted to please him. I was ready to do whatever he wanted. And it made me feel good. I’m so sorry for failing you all.
The memory of Mandy’s words caused Gemma to steel herself. No. Angelo was not uninvolved. He’d destroyed her twin.
But before she could tell him what a low-life skunk she considered him, their drinks arrived.
Angelo passed a long glass to her. “So what do you want to ask me?”
She stared at him blankly.
“That’s why we’re here, remember?” His smiled was sardonic. “So that you can ask me questions, to try and jolt your memory.”
Oh, yes. She gave herself a gentle shake. Nothing would be served by telling him what she thought of him. Better to focus on what she’d come here for—to learn what had happened to Mandy…to find a way to make Angelo pay.
Gemma took a sip of her drink. It was cool and refreshing. “You wanted to know why I need money. In addition to the medical expenses—” she broke off, reluctant to perpetuate that lie, then blurted out, “I want to know why there was thirty thousand owing on my credit card. Do you know where it went?”
“I have no idea.”
“I drew cash out with my credit card and ran through it in your casinos, didn’t I?” She was pushing him now, but she wanted answers. She wanted him to confess what he’d gotten Mandy into. “Your casinos. Your fault I’m thirty-thousand in the red.”
“You liked to gamble…I didn’t force you. But I wouldn’t call you an addict.”
Gemma flinched. “But it would’ve been more than I could afford.”
“Your chips went on my account. It didn’t cost you a euro. You must have accumulated your debts—” he picked the word with fastidious care “—after you left me.”
“So where I did I go from Strathmos?”
He lifted a negligent shoulder. “I have no idea.”
“Nor did you care—certainly not enough to buy me a ticket to make sure I reached home safely.”
A frown creased his brow, he picked up his drink and leaned back. “I’m a generous man. I gave you a more than a plentiful allowance while you lived with me. Gold cards, a supply of cash that you ran through like water.” There was distaste in his tone now. “You could have saved that for a rainy day.”
Gemma opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again. His words held the unmistakeable ring of truth.
“I regret the hit-and-run left you floundering for your memory.” The sympathy in his eyes faded as he continued, “But you’re an adult. You’ve worked in nightclubs in London, Paris. You considered New Zealand a backwater. I assumed you’d simply find another big city, another big-spending benefactor to fund your love of the high life.”
She blinked. While he’d clearly enjoyed having Mandy in his bed, it didn’t sound like he’d held her twin in high regard. Poor Mandy.
He set his glass down. “After I found you with Moreau I didn’t give a damn where you were going. Right then I hoped you’d drown in the sea. You’d betrayed me, in the worst way that a woman can betray a man. I couldn’t wait to see the back of you.”
Gemma flinched at his bitter words. Yet under the white-hot anger she suspected that Angelo was telling the truth. He didn’t know where Mandy had gone after leaving him. Could that mean that she’d misjudged him? Had he had nothing to do with Mandy’s problems? Had they only started after her sister left Strathmos?
Her shoulders sagged. She’d had such high hopes that Angelo would provide the key to the puzzle. Then she thought about what he’d said, and lifted her head. “Did I leave the island with Jean-Paul?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible. I wanted him out my sight, too.”
Perhaps the Frenchman could provide a clue to what had happened. Angelo’s face had tightened at the mention of the other man. She changed the subject. “You said that you inherited a string of family hotels from your grandfather. How did they transform into this?” Gemma gestured to the bar and, beyond it, the resort.
“On my twenty-first birthday, I inherited three islands and a chain of three-star holiday hotels geared to foreign budget tourists. My grandfather had been ill for a while. The hotels were shabby, showing their age. While they were well booked over the summer months, they were deserted in winter. I knew I could do more. I wanted resorts where occupancy was guaranteed all year round.”
“That’s why you went for casinos?”
He nodded. “But I wanted more than glamorous casinos. I wanted places where everyone in the family would have a good time. That meant themed resorts, cinemas, a variety of shows that would draw people back again.”
“You achieved everything you set out to do.”
He nodded. “It took a while. I first worked at upgrading the hotels I had. I knew the first spectacular resort had to be built here at Strathmos. It was my dream. I hadn’t been back to the island since I left as an eighteen-year-old. Once I got it up, Poseidon was born.”
“And now Poseidon’s resorts are associated with worlds of fantasy.” She tried to hide her admiration by giving the words a bite. “The Golden Cavern. The Never-Ending River.” She named some famous drawcards.
His gaze narrowed. “You remember? You remember visiting them with me?”
The damned amnesia. She’d nearly given herself away. Slowly she shook her head. “I told you, I tried to put together the missing parts of my memory so I read up about our relationship in the tabloids. There were bits about Poseidon’s Resorts, too. Like their fantasy themes and what they’re worth today. About how innovative you were.” And on the Internet there had been endless details about the wealthy, powerful and good-looking Angelo Apollonides, Mr. Eligible Bachelor Billionaire of the Year. But she wasn’t telling him any of that. The last thing she wanted was for him to think he interested her. Gemma shifted, uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading.
She could barely hide her relief when the duty manager arrived and whispered into Angelo’s ear.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I am needed. And we’ve barely gotten started.”
“Don’t worry. We can talk again some other time.”
“Shall I order you another drink?”
“No, I’m done.” She pushed the empty glass aside. “I might wander over to one of the coffee bars. And then I’ll make my way back to my room. I can use an early night. Don’t worry about me.”
He rose and gave her a slow smile. “I find that I can’t help worrying about you.” And her heart twisted.
And then he was