She flushed and shot him a quick look. “Gabe.”
He shook his head, forced himself to smile. “But even after saying yes, you backed out. Haven’t changed much, have you, Deb?”
“I didn’t back out.”
“Really? So where’s your husband?” Gabe looked past her at the crowd as if searching for a particular face before shifting his gaze back to hers.
“I said I didn’t back out.”
“Ah,” he smiled then, “so he turned the tables on you, did he?”
“No.” Scowling now, she blew out a breath and said, “It just didn’t happen.”
“Why not?”
He watched her, saw emotions churning in her eyes and couldn’t identify any of them. There had once been a time, he thought, that he knew what she was thinking. That they were so connected, they could have completed each other’s sentences. But that time was long gone.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Her fingers swept up and down the stem of her wineglass and her mouth firmed fiercely as if she were biting back words that battled to get free. Finally, though, she met his gaze and said quietly, “I found out that Mike was already married. To two other women.”
“Ah…” Despite the fury trembling in her voice, he heard the pain, too, the humiliation, and a small part of him was glad of it. Why should he be the only one to remember how it felt to have someone you loved pull the rug out from under you? Besides, he wasn’t here to sympathize. “So you chose badly, again.”
She took another sip of wine. “All those years ago, Gabe,” she said, “we were too young.”
“I loved you.”
“And I loved you.”
“Not enough.”
“You’re wrong,” she said. “But love isn’t everything.”
Now she reached across the table toward him, but Gabe pulled his hand back.
He resented her bringing their shared past back to gnaw at him. For years, Gabe had deliberately kept those memories in lockdown, refusing to think about them, refusing to wallow in what he had concluded had been a mistake, right from the beginning. The past had no part in his life. His present was just as he wanted it and his future was planned out.
And she wasn’t a part of it.
Yet, just by being here, she was neatly undoing all of those carefully arranged locks he’d put in place. But damn, if he was going to make it easy on her.
“We keep heading down that road and I’m just not interested in the past, Deb. It was a long time ago and we’re different people now. You said it yourself. People change.” He stood and shoved both hands into the pockets of his tux. Looking down at her, he said, “Stay. Enjoy your dinner. I’ve got some things to look into.”
“Gabe, don’t go.”
The softness in her voice pulled at him. The yearning in her eyes tugged at something deep inside. He didn’t want to be tugged, but no way would he be the one to bend in this little contest.
He lifted one hand to her face, stroked his fingertips along the soft, smooth line of her jaw and said, “I’ll see you later.”
* * *
“You want me to what?”
Gabe leaned back in his desk chair and looked up at his head of security. Yes, his brother, Devlin, kept a team of private security on the island, but this man, Victor Reyes, worked for Gabe. Victor had been in charge of island security for four years now and in that time, he and Gabe had become friends.
“I want you to make sure Debbie Harris knows she’s being watched.”
Victor was a tall, muscular man with a fierce expression, forbidding personality and black, glittering eyes. It was usually enough for him to simply show up and anyone causing trouble at Fantasies was quickly convinced to change their mind. “Can I ask why?”
“She thinks she’s under suspicion of being the jewel thief wanted on the islands.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed. “You have reason to believe she’s the thief?”
“No.” Gabe got up and turned to face the wide bank of windows behind his desk. “She’s not a thief. But I’m not ready for her to leave the island just yet and I’m willing to do what I have to do to keep her here.”
There was a long moment of silence and Gabe knew that Victor was considering his next words before he spoke. A careful man. “I guess you’ve got your reasons.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“All right, then,” Victor said. “You’re the boss.”
Gabe glanced over his shoulder at the other man. “But you don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You don’t pay me to think, Gabe,” Victor said, folding massive arms across his chest. “But if you want my opinion, no. It’s not the best idea you’ve ever had.”
Probably not, Gabe thought, turning back to stare out at the spread of the world he’d built stretching in front of him. Would have been smarter to let Debbie go never knowing he was on the island. But this felt right. He’d learned long ago to listen to his instincts, so he was going to go with that. There was a score to be settled between him and Debbie Harris.
Turning around, Gabe faced his old friend and nodded. “You’re probably right, Vic. But we’re gonna do this my way.”
“Okay by me. But what’re you going to do about Ms. Madison?”
“Huh?” Gabe felt the world tip slightly, but looked at his friend and asked, “What’re you talking about? What’s Grace got to do with this?”
Victor shook his head and pulled a PalmPilot from the pocket of the lightweight jacket he wore to cover up the gun at his hip. Turning the device on, he scanned the screen, looked up at Gabe and said, “According to the schedule, Ms. Madison’s due to arrive in three days.”
“Damn it.”
How could he have forgotten this? Grace’s visit had been arranged more than a month ago. But then, in the last month, he hadn’t thought about much more than Debbie Harris. Hardly surprising he’d forget about other plans when he was so wrapped up in his scheme for revenge.
Muttering dark threats just under his breath, Gabe shoved one hand through his hair, then kicked the edge of his desk. “I forgot all about her.”
Victor chuckled and put his PalmPilot away.
“This amuses you?” Gabe asked, his voice a thin, cold ribbon.
Victor wasn’t cowed, though. They’d been friends too long. He simply smiled and said, “You’ve got Debbie Harris staying in your suite…and in three days, your fiancée shows up. What’s not amusing about that?”
Gabe scowled at him. Grace wasn’t his fiancée. Not officially. He hadn’t proposed, though he and Grace had reached an agreement the last time she’d visited. Debbie. Without even trying, she was messing with his life. “We’re not engaged. Yet.”
“Oh, well, then. No problem.”
Gabe slumped back into his desk chair. Disgusted, he glanced at his friend. “You’re fired.”
“Hell, boss, you can’t fire me. I’m the only friend you’ve got left.”
Five
Gabe had come a long way from Long Beach, CA. Mingling with the rich, the powerful, the famous, he was completely at home. He wore a tuxedo as though he’d been born to it and used a smooth, practiced