To cool herself off, to try to gather up the tattered threads of rational thought, she started talking again. “Last night, I agreed to come here because I didn’t want to stay in the jail.”
“So?”
“So…” Debbie stared at the painting on the pale blue wall opposite her. A beach scene at sunset, with deep, rich colors streaming across a canvas sky and drizzling onto ocean waves whipped by an unseen wind. “So how long do I have to stay here?”
She heard him moving around the room behind her and only hoped that getting dressed was part of his game plan.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On how long it takes for you to be cleared of suspicion.”
“Oh, come on, Gabe.”
When he didn’t answer, she whirled around, saw that he’d pulled on those silky pajama bottoms, and blew out a grateful breath. Then she followed him as he walked out onto the tiled terrace off the bedroom.
The shining red tiles felt cold beneath her bare feet, but the sun was already climbing in a cloudless blue sky. In the distance, the ocean stretched out in front of the resort and flashes of colored sails on swift-moving boats caught her eye. Directly below them and to the left was a golf course, so deep and rich a green it almost hurt to look at it, and on the right, stone paths wound through carefully tended shrubs and flowers, leading to the pool area and the beach beyond.
“This place is amazing.”
He swiveled his head to look at her. A brief smile curved his mouth then disappeared an instant later. “Thanks. I like it.”
She smiled and shifted her gaze to the sweep of green where a couple of early golfers were steering a red-and-white cart down a path. “You used to talk about having a place like this. Remember?”
She flicked a glance at him in time to see his smile fade and a shutter drop over his eyes. “I remember. Look, Deb. I’m not interested in a forced march down memory lane, all right?”
“Yeah, sure.” His instant withdrawal stung a little. But could she blame him?
He pushed off the railing, walked into his bedroom and threw words back over his shoulder like crumbs to a hungry pigeon. “I’ll contact the authorities in Bermuda. See if they’ve got any more information on the jewel thief.”
“Gabe, you know that’s not me. Right?”
He stopped and glanced at her. “Doesn’t matter what I know, Deb. All that matters is what you can prove.”
“How’m I supposed to prove I’m innocent?”
Nodding, he acknowledged, “Good question. You should get to work on that right away.”
“Aren’t you going to help me?”
“I’m letting you stay with me.”
She shot a look at the mile-wide bed and then looked at him again. “Yeah, about that. Is there a guest room—”
He laughed. “Why in the hell would I bother to have a guest room in my suite?” Shaking his head, he waved both arms and reminded her, “I live in a hotel, Deb. All the rooms here are guest rooms.”
Good point. “Okay, let me have my old room then.”
“No can do.” He opened the top drawer of a sleek, polished dresser, pulled out a pair of black boxers, then slammed the drawer closed again. “As long as you’re here, you’re my responsibility. You stay where I can keep an eye on you or you go back to jail. You choose. Right now, I’m gonna grab a shower, then get to work.”
She really hated this. Hated that she was caught up in something she couldn’t control. Hated that she needed Gabe and really hated that he was so getting a charge out of giving her a hard time over it. And she hated knowing that she sort of felt safe with Gabe. She wasn’t nearly as scared as she should be, because Gabe was right here, snarling at her. And looking way too sexy.
But she had no other choice. No way was she going back to jail. So she’d have to find a way to stay with Gabe without giving in to the feelings he could still inspire in her.
Sure.
No problem.
Oh, she was in serious trouble here.
“Fine,” she said on a deep breath. “I’ll stay.”
“Glad that’s settled. Call downstairs. They probably brought your bags from the airport last night.”
“Okay, then what?”
He shrugged. “Take a shower. Get dressed.”
“And then?”
“Hell if I know.”
He turned to walk into the huge bathroom jutting off the master bedroom and stopped when she called, “But what am I supposed to do about all this?”
He sighed and said, “I’ll make some calls later. See what I can find out.”
“Thanks.”
He didn’t answer, just walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Alone again, Debbie looked around the empty room and wondered just how long she was going to be a prisoner in this palace.
* * *
“Jewel thief?” Janine’s voice shrieked over the phone line and Debbie felt better just hearing her friend’s fury. “Is he crazy? You’re no thief.”
Smiling, Debbie leaned back in her chair and took her first easy breath since being stopped at the airfield the day before. It was good to hear someone else’s belief in her. “Thanks.”
“Everybody knows you’re too clumsy to be a jewel thief,” Janine added. “You’d never make a living.”
Debbie scowled at the phone in her hand and muttered, “Thanks again.”
“Well, come on,” Janine said on a laugh now, “you’ve gotta admit, jewel thieves have to be sneaky. You trip over your own feet.”
“Okay,” Debbie said, hoping to cut short Janine’s amusement. “But let’s pretend the authorities don’t know that I’m a clod and figure out how I can prove to them that I’m not this thief they’re looking for.”
The restaurant by the beach was, as with most everything else at Fantasies, done in a red-and-white decor. White tables shone in the sunlight, red carnations sprouted from white vases in the center of every table. The servers wore Hawaiian-print shirts, also in red and white, and the crowd around Debbie was relaxed, celebratory.
As she had been only a few days ago.
That was, until she’d been arrested.
“Oh, God.” Debbie stifled a groan.
“Right, right. But whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
“Wish I knew.”
Janine heaved a sigh that carried all the way from Long Beach to the beachside restaurant on Fantasies. “You say the owner of the resort is helping you?”
“That’s what he says,” Debbie told her, but privately she wondered. Gabe had no reason to be kind to her.
But she’d done what she’d believed she had to do to save both of them from more pain further down the road back then. Did she wish things could have been different? Of course. But that didn’t change a damn thing, did it?
“You don’t think he is?”
“I