Twist of Fate (21 page)

“Hannah?”

“Still checking up on me? Relax. Ballantine is no longer around as far as I know.”

He heard the bite in her voice and took a grip on his own emotions. “I was just calling to talk about your aunt's journals and papers. I've been studying the map you let me have. The one done by military intelligence before the landing.”

“What about it?”

“Well,” he was floundering already. “There's a mark on it that I'm sure indicates something reasonably important. And I don't think it was made by the man who carried it ashore. I have a feeling it might have been made by your aunt after she came into possession of the map. I just thought you might find it interesting.”

Hannah hesitated on the other end of the line, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, suspiciously neutral. “I'll keep it in mind while I go through the journals. Perhaps she'll mention marking the map for some reason.”

“It's probably not important now. Probably means nothing.” Already he was running out of words. “How are things going?”

“Just peachy when I'm not being pumped for information by you or Ballantine. I can tell right off that I'm not cut out to be a corporate spy. How are things going there? Preparing for the big confrontation with Ballantine Investments?”

“Among other things. Cage & Associates does have other irons in the fire besides the Surbrook deal.”

“Ah, yes. You're a professional wheeler and dealer. Well, don't let me keep you from your appointed rounds. I'm sure planning the attack on Ballantine is a lot more interesting than talking about a bunch of islanders who no longer exist. Thanks for calling, Gideon.”

She hung up the phone before he could think of anything brilliant to say. She really had written him off, Gideon thought.

The knowledge no longer depressed him. It enraged him.

H
ANNAH FOUND
G
IDEON
waiting in the entrance hall along with the last carton of books from Santa Inez Island. It was raining and the sun wasn't due to show its face until late in the afternoon. Given the fact that it was already noon and there had been no sign of the rain lessening, Hannah doubted the forecast. Weather in the Puget Sound region was tricky to forecast. The actions of Gideon Cage were equally risky to predict. She didn't bother to ask how he'd gotten through the iron gate this time.

“What in the world are you doing here?” Hannah came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs and stared at him. The look on her face wasn't quite open-mouthed surprise, but it probably came close. He was dressed in the kind of casual clothes he had worn on Santa Inez, a pair of slacks and a white, long-sleeved shirt. The only addition was a slate-colored windbreaker that was soaked from the rain. “You're supposed to be busy saving the reputation of Cage & Associates.”

Gideon looked at her, water dripping from his dark hair. There was a puddle of moisture spreading around his feet. “I came to see
you
. You could look a little more delighted to see
me
.”

Hannah blinked and then realized what was going on. “Oh, I see.”

“What do you see?”

She bent to wrestle with the carton of books. “You're here to find out what Ballantine's been up to in Seattle. Sorry, I can't help you. Haven't seen him for a week. Not since that night he took me to dinner.” She tipped the box slightly in order to get a better grip on the underside. “And even if I could help you, I probably wouldn't. As I keep telling both of you, I'm out of your war.”

“Hannah, I said I came to see
you
.” He moved forward, gently edging her aside. “Let me get that carton. How many have arrived so far?”

“This is the last of them.” She brushed aside a stray strand of hair and narrowed her eyes as Gideon shouldered the carton and started up the stairs. He had no right to show up like this, not when she'd been successfully concentrating on other things besides him for nearly two weeks. It wasn't fair but, then, she had already learned that men such as Gideon often didn't play fair. They played to win and they played the game by their own rules.

“Is the door open?” he called from the top of the stairs.

“Yes.”

She shook off the feeling of disorientation and shoved her key into her mailbox to collect the rest of the mail. Grabbing the handful of envelopes and advertising flyers she closed the box and started up the stairs. She had come down without her cane, and on the way back up she didn't pay as much attention to her still-awkward sense of balance as she should have. Hannah stumbled a little on the first step. Belatedly she reached out to grasp the handrail. On the landing above Gideon disappeared inside her apartment door.

Hannah took a deep breath and paused in the middle of the flight of stairs. Unconsciously she touched the neck lace she wore over her khaki naturalist's shirt. She would stay in charge of herself and of the situation.

“Where shall I put it?” Gideon swung around to face Hannah as she came through the door.

“There on the floor beside the bookcase will be fine. Thank you, Gideon.” She closed the door behind her.

He eased the carton down onto the floor and then straightened, his eyes moving over her with shuttered interest. “I see you're not using the cane.”

“Only when I go out.”

“Does the leg ache much?”

“Rarely.”

“Still taking physical therapy?”

“I go to my brother's athletic club three times a week.”

“Hannah, for God's sake, stop looking at me like that. I was awake half the night making the decision to come to see you. My administrative assistant is practically foaming at the mouth because he's been left to handle everything for another couple of days. The flight was delayed and I wound up killing two hours at LAX. I get to Seattle and it's raining and I get to my woman's apartment and she acts as if she can't quite remember who I am. It's only one o'clock and already it's been a very long day.”

Hannah took a deep breath. “It rains a lot in Seattle.”

“Christ, lady, I'm in no mood for jokes.” He moved, gliding forward and reaching for her before she could step aside.

“Gideon…”

But he was already wrapping her close, folding her into his wet clothing until she felt the underlying heat of his body. His mouth came down on hers with an urgency that brought back all the intimate memories of the time on Santa Inez. Hannah closed her eyes, torn between allowing herself to remember and her decision to not look back.

“Kiss me, Hannah. It's been too long. Too damn long.”

Gideon tightened his hold, seeking to overcome the passive resistance he felt in her. Slowly Hannah let herself relax. Whatever she'd had with Gideon had been good and physically satisfying. It would do no harm to taste the memories. Her mouth opened beneath his and she heard his stifled groan of satisfaction. His hands slid down her back, urging her closer. It wasn't until water dripping from his hair splashed onto her nose that he reluctantly lifted his head. His dark eyes gleamed with a hint of satisfaction and relief as he looked down at her.

“That's better,” he murmured. “Much better. Now you're almost as wet as I am. Got a towel?”

“In the bathroom.”

He released her, heading for the hall. “I'll be out in a minute. How about some coffee?”

Hannah watched his back. “I'll put some on.” She waited until she heard the bathroom door shut and then she started slowly toward the kitchen. Halfway there she realized that she was still holding the bundle of envelopes in her hand. She dropped them on an end table.

Gideon was here. She hadn't expected to see him again, had convinced herself it was better if she didn't. But now she had to deal with the man and his effect on her. She also had to deal with the real reasons he had come back to Seattle. The affair had ended almost before it had begun. Gideon wasn't the kind of man to chase a woman. So why was he here?

Hannah had the kettle boiling when she realized that Gideon was standing silently behind her in the kitchen doorway. She turned to glance at him and saw that he was holding a long white envelope. It was from the stack of letters she'd left on the end table. His gaze no longer held satisfaction or relief. He was studying her with a narrow intensity that immediately put her on the defensive.

“Maybe you'd better open this.” With a quick, casual movement of his hand he sent the envelope sailing onto the counter beside her.

Hannah glanced down and saw that the return address was that of Ballantine Investments. Her blood chilled for an instant at the implications and then cool anger took over. She was not a pawn for these two men. Defiantly she reached for the envelope and tore it open.

“It's probably a thank you letter for the dinner we had.” She scanned the contents, keeping her face impassive.

“It looks like business to me.”

Hannah smiled grimly. “I imagine it does. But that's probably because everything looks like business to you.”

“What does he want now, Hannah?”

She considered her response as she finished reading the short letter and then decided to tell Gideon the truth. “He says he'll be happy to set aside a piece of the action on the Surbrook deal for me if I reconsider my decision about involvement in the war.” She tossed the letter back onto the counter and picked up the kettle. “How about that, Gideon? My chance to get rich quick.”

“And all you have to do is feed Ballantine some interesting news about me.”

“Unfortunately I don't know anything that interesting about you, do I?”

“Would you tell him if you did?”

She swung around as the inner anger rose to the surface. “I've told both of you that I have no intention of getting involved and that's exactly what I meant. It's not my fault that neither of you seems capable of comprehending a simple statement. You're so locked into your stupid macho confrontation that you can't believe someone else might not give a damn about the outcome, but that's how much I care about who wins the Surbrook war. Not a damn. Try to get that through your head, Gideon. You've come a long way for nothing. Ballantine and I are not conspiring against you. I can't give you any more information about him than I can give him about you. And I wouldn't even if I could. With all your corporate spying you seem far more aware of his activities than I am, anyway. I'm sure he's keeping tabs on you, too. The two of you can play your silly games until hell freezes over. I want nothing to do with them. Do I make myself clear?”

He watched her broodingly for a long moment. “The whole problem, Hannah, is that I want you to give a damn.”

She stared at him and then slowly shook her head. “Why?”

“I'm not sure. Maybe it's because I want you and I would feel far more secure if I knew you cared a little about what happens to me.”

“I tried caring, remember? It didn't do any good because you weren't willing to change. You've chosen your own path, Gideon. You're going to have to walk it alone.”

“I didn't think guidance counselors were allowed to write off recalcitrant cases.”

“We do. All the time.” She turned to pour hot water over the coffee. “And you're not just a recalcitrant case, Gideon. You're an inflexible, immovable, unalterable case. I've decided I'm not going to waste any more of my time on you. I've got more interesting things to pursue at the moment.”

“Your aunt's papers?”

“Exactly. I'm learning a great deal from Elizabeth Nord's library. I intend to start putting some of it into practice. Here's your coffee.”

He took the mug from her, his eyes never leaving her face. “I didn't come to see you because of Ballantine.”

“Really?” She kept her voice careless.

“You don't believe me, do you?”

“Let's just say I have enough respect for your abilities to know that you're quite capable of pursuing two objectives at the same time. You might be willing enough to go to bed with me again, but I doubt that you'd come all this way just to do it unless there was another compelling reason to make the trip. As it happens, there is another reason. You're curious about what Ballantine has been doing here in Seattle. So you've decided to kill a couple of birds with one stone.”

“Does it occur to you that I might be jealous?”

She tilted her head to one side. “It occurs to me that your ego might be slightly outraged at the idea of Ballantine taking me to bed so soon after you've finished with me, but that's about as far as it would go.”

“Did he take you to bed?”

“What do you think?”

Gideon took a swallow of his coffee. “I don't think he did.”

“Fine. Now that's settled, you can smooth your ruffled feathers and head back to the airport. You must be awfully busy these days, Gideon. I doubt you can afford this time to check up on me.”

“I didn't come all this way to be kicked out the door fifteen minutes after my arrival. Could you please calm down for a few minutes and give me a chance to talk to you?”

Hannah sighed and stepped deliberately around him. Walking into the living room she settled herself on the sofa. “Talk, Gideon. You're too big for me to kick out the door and my left leg still isn't functioning at full capacity.”

He sat down slowly in the fan back chair, taking his time setting the coffee mug down on the end table. “I know you don't believe me, but I'm here to see you. That's the only reason I came.”

Hannah didn't argue. There was no point. She didn't know what to believe. She only knew that with Gideon she had to be very careful. “You're going to find it very inconvenient trying to maintain a long-distance affair with me, Gideon. Even if you don't, I will.”

“How far have you gotten into your aunt's journals?”

The question took her by surprise. She had been expecting more denials. “I'm at the point where she's just reached the village on Revelation Island. She's established her first contacts with several informants.”

“Informants?”

“That's what anthropologists call the members of the tribe they actually question about customs and meanings. They try to set up friendships with them and get them to talk freely. My aunt makes it clear that she's going to follow her usual procedure of relying primarily on female informants. She feels that women are usually neglected by researchers. Male anthropologists assume that men dominate the social and political life of the societies they study.”

“There's no mention of what the circle on the map might be?”

“Not yet.”

Gideon nodded. “Yeah, well, it's probably not going to turn out to be very important. Just a minor curiosity for someone like me who's into old maps. Have you started making notes for your book?”