Читать книгу Sail Away - Lisa Jackson - Страница 8

Marnie jabbed a glittery comb into her hair, then glowered at her reflection as the comb slid slowly down. Shaking her head, she yanked out the comb and tossed it onto the vanity. So much for glamour. She brushed her shoulder-length curls with a vengeance and eyed the string of diamonds and sapphires surrounding her throat. The necklace and matching earrings had been her mother’s; Victor had pleaded with her to wear them and she had, on this, the last night of her employment at Montgomery Inns. Just being in the new hotel made her feel like a hypocrite, but she only had a few more hours and, then, freedom!

“Marnie?” Her father tapped softly on the door connecting her smaller bedroom to the rest of his suite. “It’s about time.”

“I’ll be right out,” she replied, dreading the party. On the bed, a single suitcase lay open. She tossed her comb, brush and makeup bag into the soft-sided case and snapped it shut.

Sliding into a pair of silver heels, she opened the door to find her father, a drink in one hand, pacing near the door. He glanced up as she entered the room, and the smile that creased his face was filled with genuine admiration. He swallowed and blinked. “I really hadn’t realized how much you look like Vanessa,” he said quietly.

Marnie felt an inner glow. He was complimenting her. Her father had never gotten over his wife and he’d vowed on her grave that he’d never remarry. And he hadn’t. Even though Kate Delany had been in love with him for years, he wouldn’t marry her. Marnie knew it as well as she knew she herself would never marry Kent Simms.

He reached for the door but paused. “Kent’s already here.”

“I know.”

“He’s been asking to see you.”

She knew that, too. But she was through talking to Kent about anything other than business. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”

Victor tugged on his lower lip as if weighing his next words. Marnie braced herself. She knew what was coming. “Kent loves you, and he’s been with the company for ten years. That man is loyal.”

“To Montgomery Inns.”

“Well, that’s something. The years he’s worked for me—”

“If longevity with Montgomery Inns has anything to do with my future husband, then I should marry Fred Ainger.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her father scoffed, leaving his glass on a table near the door, but Marnie could tell her comment had hit its mark. Fred Ainger, a tiny bespectacled accountant in bookkeeping, was about to retire at age sixty-five. He’d been with Montgomery Inns since Victor had purchased his first hotel.

“Okay, okay. We both know that Kent’s time with the company doesn’t really matter when you’re choosing a husband,” her father reluctantly agreed, smoothing his hair with the flat of his hand. He looked out the window to the city of Port Stanton flanking the banks of the sound. Smaller than Seattle, Tacoma or Olympia, Port Stanton, as gateway to the sound, was growing by leaps and bounds, and Montgomery Inns was ready and waiting with the Puget West as the city required more hotels for businessmen and travelers. “But Kent is loyal to the company.”

Bully for Kent, she thought, but held her tongue on that point. “I’d rather have a husband who’s committed to me.”

“For what it’s worth, I believe Kent is committed to you, honey.”

Marnie knew differently. She also realized that she was going to have to tell her father why she was so adamant about rejecting Kent, or her father would badger her forever. In Victor’s eyes, Kent was the perfect son-in-law. “I didn’t love him, Dad.” That much wasn’t a lie, though she’d convinced herself during the duration of their engagement that she had. “Kent wasn’t the man for me. He was your choice, not mine.”

For a few seconds Victor didn’t speak, and Marnie could almost hear the gears whirling in his mind. Her father didn’t back down quickly.

He made a big show of glancing at his watch and pursing his lips. “Come on,” he said, his keen eyes glinting. “Let’s go downstairs. We can talk about Kent later.”

Marnie shook her head. “You can talk about him later. I’m done.”

Victor held up a hand to forestall any further arguments. “Whatever you say. It’s your life.”

Marnie wasn’t fooled, and cast him a glance that told him so.

Victor held open the door for her, and Marnie stepped onto the balcony. The sounds of the party drifted up the four flights from the lobby. Even from this distance she recognized a few employees of the hotel chain, dancing or laughing with guests who had been sent special invitations, the chosen few who mattered in the Northwest—the mayor of Seattle and Senator Mann, several city council members as well as reporters for local television and newspapers. There were only a few faces Marnie didn’t recognize.

All of Seattle’s social elite had come to Puget West, drinking and laughing and showing off their most expensive gowns and jewelry, hoping that their names and pictures might find a way into the society columns of the Seattle Observer and the Port Stanton Herald.

Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, Marnie stepped into the glass elevator, her father at her side. As the car descended, she stared through the windows, noticing the lights in the trees in the lobby, the ice sculpture of King Neptune and the three-tiered fountain of champagne wedged between tables laden with hors d’oeuvres. A pianist was playing from a polished ebony piano where a man listened, a handsome man, she guessed from the back of him. She noticed the wide breadth of his shoulders, the narrowing of his hips, the way his wavy black hair gleamed under a thousand winking lights.

There was something familiar about him, something about his stance, that brought back hazy memories. He turned to reach for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and as the elevator doors opened, Marnie found herself staring across the room. A pair of mocking, gold-brown eyes met hers, and she nearly missed a step.

Adam Drake!

What in God’s name was he doing here? Didn’t the man have a sense of decency, or at the very least, an ounce of self-preservation? Her father would love to have a chance to throw him out of the hotel! Even though he’d been proved innocent of the charges Victor had leveled against him, Adam Drake was definitely on her father’s ten-least-wanted list.

Adam didn’t seem concerned. A slow, self-mocking smile stretched across his jaw as his gaze collided with hers. He winked lazily at her, then took a long swallow from his champagne.

Marnie almost grinned. She’d forgotten about his irreverence, his lack of concern for playing by society’s unwritten laws. Well, he’d really done himself in this time. Though she’d never really believed that he was a thief, there was a side to him that suggested danger, and she wondered just how much he knew about the half million dollars skimmed from the funds to build this very hotel. The guy had nerve, she’d grant him that!

Amused, she turned to see if her father had noticed their uninvited guest, but a crowd of well-wishers suddenly engulfed them. Victor tugged on Marnie’s arm, pulling her along as he wended his way to the circular fountain and stepped onto the marble base, hauling her up with him. Newspaper reporters followed, elbowing and jostling to thrust microphones into Victor’s face. Cameras flashed before her eyes as photographers clicked off dozens of pictures.

Victor laughed and answered each question crisply. Her father was always at his best in front of a crowd, but Marnie was uncomfortable in the spotlight. She tried to slip away unnoticed. However, Senator Mann, always hungry for press, fought his way through the throng to stand at her father’s side, blocking Marnie’s exit. Even Kent appeared. Predictably, he wended quickly through the tightening group to take his place next to her. She was trapped!

Gazing up at Kent’s even, practiced smile, Marnie decided this wasn’t the time to bring up the fact that Adam Drake had somehow turned up uninvited.

“Hi,” Kent whispered, flashing a thousand-watt grin at her, though Marnie suspected the smile was for the press. He tried to slide his arm around her waist.

Marnie sidestepped him and somehow managed to keep her balance. “Don’t,” she warned.

“Come on, Marnie,” he cajoled. “Just try to be reasonable—at least for appearances’ sake.”

“I can’t—”

“Kent! Congratulations!” Mayor Winthrop’s voice boomed as he approached and stretched out his hand. He was short and round, his straight gray hair painstakingly combed to cover a bald spot. “Beautiful hotel, Marnie, just beautiful!” he gushed, before turning all his attention on Victor and Kent.

Marnie managed a thin smile for the man, then, before Kent realized what she was doing, excused herself quickly and stepped into the sea of guests.

Enough with the spectacle, she thought, moving quickly away from the fountain. She had promised her father she’d show up at his party, but she wasn’t going to pretend to care about Kent. How could she have ever made the mistake of thinking she loved him? Or that he had loved her? She must’ve been desperate.

Unconsciously, she glanced back to the piano, but Adam had disappeared and the pianist, taking his cue from Victor, had stopped playing so that the mayor and other city dignitaries could publicly congratulate Victor Montgomery on another glamorous project well done.

Marnie felt little of the pride she’d experienced at the completion of other hotels. Puget West had been different from the beginning. There had been problems and delays with acquisition, zoning, planning, architecture and then, of course, the scandal. At first Adam Drake, Victor’s personal choice to supervise the project, had smoothed out the bumps, but later, when Kate Delany had discovered the errors in the books, all hell had broken loose and her father had blamed Adam for the mismanaged money.

The money had never been located. Over five hundred thousand dollars had seemed to vanish into thin air. Marnie had never believed Adam to be a thief, but no one had been able to explain what had happened to the missing funds.

Adam had never been indicted, but the public humiliation had been tremendous, the scandal reported daily in the business section of the Seattle Observer. And now he was here? Why?

Scanning the waves of people, she found Adam again. With one shoulder propped against a marble pillar, the jacket of his tux open, his tie loosened, his black hair wind-tossed, he looked rakish and self-satisfied. A small smile played on his thin, sensual lips. His eyes, dark above chiseled cheekbones, were trained on the fountain where Victor stood.

It was strange that he’d decided to come, but fitting, in a way. Adam Drake, before his downfall, had been invaluable to the company, one of the few in Victor’s small circle of advisers. Adam had been the man who had found this very piece of land on the western shore of the sound and had negotiated a very good deal for Montgomery Inns. Without Adam Drake, Puget West never would have been built.

Marnie wondered why he had risked having his reputation blackened again. The man must be certifiable.

With difficulty, she forced her gaze away from him. Unfortunately she discovered Dolores Tate, Kent’s secretary, lingering near the open bar, her wide brown eyes focused lovingly on Kent.

Marnie thought she might be sick.

Dolores didn’t notice her; she was too involved with the scene at the fountain and her own appearance. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to the springy brown curls that framed her Kewpie-doll face. Draped in a dress of gold sequins and chiffon, Dolores moved gracefully among the people near the fountain, smiling and stopping to talk with this group and that, seeming more a part of this party than Marnie felt herself.

Dolores probably was more at home here, Marnie thought as she tore her gaze away from the woman Kent had chosen as his mistress. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel any surge of jealousy, just an annoying embarrassment that she could have been duped by Kent.

Rather than dwell on Kent, Marnie half listened to her father’s prepared speech. Victor, public smile in place, was heartily thanking the community leaders for the privilege of building this “…dream-come-true on the banks of the sound for our fair community…”

On and on he went, interrupted occasionally by bursts of clapping or laughter as he related some funny anecdotes about the construction of the hotel. Marnie had heard similar speeches dozens of times before. For her father’s sake, she hoped she appeared interested, though she couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering across the expansive foyer to the pillar against which Adam leaned.

Marnie could almost feel Adam’s hostility sizzling across the room. But Victor went blithely on, unaware that the man he was sure had tried to cheat him was present.

Kate Delany, too, didn’t seem to notice Adam as she found Marnie and joined her. “Your father’s pleased,” Kate whispered into Marnie’s ear.

“He should be,” Marnie answered automatically.

“Mmm.” Kate nodded. Her auburn hair was piled in loose curls atop her head, her silk dress shimmered as it draped over one shoulder. Emerald earrings, shaped like teardrops, matched the bracelet encircling one slim wrist—gifts from Marnie’s father. The small white lines of disappointment near her lips were barely visible.

Marnie felt a pang of pity for Kate. She obviously still clung to the hope that she would someday become Mrs. Victor Montgomery.

As Victor finished, Kate slipped through the crowd toward the fountain. The guests erupted with enthusiastic applause and good wishes while photographers shot rolls of film of her father with the mayor, or senator, or with a dour-faced city councilwoman wearing a simple linen suit and an outrageous magenta hat.

Marnie slid another glance in Adam’s direction and decided it was time she found out what he was doing here. They were compatriots, in a perverse way, she thought. Neither one of them belonged here. Only Adam had shown up despite the fact that he wasn’t wanted; she, on the other hand, was wanted and would do anything to leave.

She accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and then slipped through the guests toward the one man who had the guts to defy her father.

Adam saw her coming. He’d watched as she had disentangled herself from Kent and mingled among the clusters of people. She had been smiling at her father’s jokes but not really listening. It was almost as if she were playing a part, putting in her time, and she’d cast more than one curious glance in his direction. Good.

She was beautiful, he had to admit that. Her wavy hair was pale blond, almost silver, her eyes were an intense shade of blue and even though she was often serious, Adam remembered that she laughed easily.

But she wasn’t laughing tonight. No, Miss Montgomery appeared uncomfortable with all the hoopla, though she was dressed for the occasion in a silky dress that must have cost a fortune and in diamonds that sparkled around her wrist and neck. No one would doubt that she was Victor Montgomery’s spoiled daughter.

He found it interesting that when she’d first spotted him she hadn’t run to Daddy to tell him that a traitor was in their midst. Instead, she’d appeared mildly curious and now she was walking toward him.

The ghost of a smile crossed her full lips and her eyes twinkled for just a second. “Mr. Drake,” she said, stopping just short of him.

“It’s Adam, remember?”

“Impossible to forget,” she replied, showing off a dimple. “Your name will probably be whispered in the corridors of Montgomery Inns for years. You’re a legend, you know.”

“As part of the poor and infamous?”

She plucked a shrimp canapé from a tray. “What’re you doing here? Don’t you know you’ll be drawn and quartered before the night is out? That’s what they do to party crashers.” She plopped the canape into her mouth and washed it down with a sip of champagne.

He couldn’t believe that she was actually baiting him. Adam’s mouth slashed at a sardonic angle. “And here I thought my invitation had just gotten lost in the mail.”

“Right,” Marnie replied dryly, her ice blue dress glimmering seductively under the lights. “If I were you, this is the last place I would’ve shown up.”

“Never was one to miss a party.”

“You must be a glutton for punishment. My father will flip when he finds out you’re here—and he will, you know. It won’t take long.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Why?” For the first time, the teasing glint disappeared from her eyes. She lifted her glass to her lips and appraised him solemnly over the rim.

“He and I need to talk, and he’s been dodging my calls.” Adam glanced back to the fountain-cum-podium where Victor was introducing Kent Simms and congratulating him on his promotion to executive vice president. Adam finished his drink in one gulp, as Simms accepted Victor’s hearty congratulations, shook hands with the mayor and rained a brilliant pretty-boy smile on the crowd.

“You’ve called Dad?” Marnie asked, apparently stunned.

Adam swung his gaze back to her. “Several times. Never got past Kate. Victor didn’t bother to call me back.”

“But—”

“I even stopped in at the offices. Kate ran interference. Wouldn’t let me in to see him.”

Marnie couldn’t believe it. Her father hadn’t said a word about Adam trying to contact him, and she would have thought, given Victor’s feelings about Adam Drake, he would have ranted and raved for days at the younger man’s impertinence. “What did you want to talk to him about?”

“Believe me, I have a lot to discuss with your father—or if I can’t talk to him, Simms’ll do.” He cocked his head toward the fountain. “By the way, your fiancé seems to be enjoying himself. Shouldn’t you be up there, basking in some of the glory?”

“It got a little crowded,” she said, her lips tightening.

“I noticed.”

“Adam Drake?” Kate’s voice was low and cold. When he turned, her large eyes were suspicious, the color in her cheeks high. “What do you think you’re doing here?” she whispered, then before he could answer, asked, “How did you get past security?”

“I helped design this building, remember—including the security system.”

“You bastard,” she shot back, ignoring Marnie. “You want to ruin it for him, don’t you? This is Victor’s night, and you’re going to make sure that it blows up in his face!”

“I just want to talk to him.”

“Well, you can’t. Not tonight,” she said, her features hardening. “If the press gets wind that you’re here, it’ll ruin everything! You’ve got to leave! Now!” Her voice had taken on a frantic tone that seemed to surprise Marnie as she watched the exchange in stunned silence.

“I’m not taking off just yet.”

“But why would you want to stay? It’ll just cause problems.” Kate glanced nervously toward Victor.

Marnie laid a hand on her arm. “Relax, Kate,” Marnie said, as if she, too, were trying to avoid a scene, but Kate raged on.

“Please, Adam, just go quietly, before you do something that can’t be undone and everything’s dredged up again. This is Victor’s night. Please don’t spoil it!”

“I need to talk to him.”

“But not here—”

“I tried the office,” he replied, fighting to control his anger. “You wouldn’t let me see him.”

“My mistake. Come back next week, I’ll get you an appointment,” she promised, pinning a winning smile on her face and slipping her arm through his, obviously intending to escort him to the door.

“I’ll wait, just the same.”

Frustrated, Kate stormed away in a cloud of exasperation.

“I don’t think that’s the way to win friends and influence people,” Marnie said dryly.

“I’m not very popular around here, am I?”

She grinned. “I’m afraid you’re persona non grata at Montgomery Inns. But my father still keeps your picture in his office—taped over his dart board.”

He laughed, surprised that she would joke with him. The pianist began playing again, filling the lobby with a vaguely familiar big-band hit of the forties.

“Do you want me to tell my father you’re here?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I think it would be better if you stay out of it.”

“Why?”

“It could get bloody.”

“Then I’d better be there,” she decided. “Someone—maybe you—might need a bandage.”

“And soon,” he said, spying Kent Simms, face flushed, plunging through the crowd and heading straight for Marnie. The glare in Kent’s eyes was unmistakable—the territorial pride of the spurned male.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kent demanded in a voice so low it was hard to hear over the crowd.

Adam finished his drink. “I was hoping to talk to Victor, but I guess you’ll have to do.”

“Forget it. Come on, Marnie, let’s go,” Kent ordered, grabbing her arm and propelling her toward a banquet room near the back of the lobby.

“Let go of me,” she whispered furiously, half running to keep up with his longer strides. She considered making a scene, but thought better of it. No reason to call undue attention to Adam—he’d do enough of that for himself.

In the banquet room, she whirled around and yanked her arm free of Kent’s possessive grasp. “What is it you want?”

His expression changed from anger to sadness. “You already know what I want,” he said quietly. “I just want you, Marnie.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. What did it take to make the man understand? “I already told you it’s over! I don’t need to be manhandled or made a spectacle of! Where do you get off, hauling me in here like some caveman claiming his woman?”

“Caveman?” he repeated. “Weren’t you just talking to Drake? Now there’s someone who’s primitive.” He shook his head, as if sorry that she was so dense. “You know, Marnie, sometimes you can be impossible.”

“Good!”

“You enjoy being perverse?”

“I just want you to leave me alone. I thought you understood that. If you don’t, let me make myself clear,” she said, drawing up to her full height and sending him an icy glare. “I’m sorry I ever got involved with you and I never want to see you again.”

He glanced to one of the chandeliers high overhead. “I made a mistake with Dolores.”

She didn’t respond. She’d learned that his affair with Dolores had been going on for over six months. All the time that she and Kent had been picking out china, planning a wedding, looking for a house, sailing in the boat Victor had bought them as an engagement present, Kent had been sleeping with his secretary.

“You know I still love you,” he said, and his expression was so sincere, she almost believed him. But she wasn’t a fool. Not any more. “Give me another chance,” he pleaded. “It’ll never happen again. I swear it.”

Marnie shook her head. “You can do what you damn well please, Kent. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I really did a number on you, didn’t I?”

“I prefer to think that you did me a favor.”

A light of challenge sparked in his hazel eyes. He leaned down as if to kiss her, and she ducked away. “Stop it!” she commanded, her tone frigid.

He ignored her and grabbed her quickly, yanking her hard against him. “Don’t tell me ‘no,’” he whispered, his face so close that his breath, smelling of liquor, fanned her face.

“Don’t pull this macho stuff on me!”

“You love it.” His grip tightened, and his eyes glittered in a way that frightened and sickened her. He enjoyed this fight.

Squirming, unable to wrench away, she stomped on his foot in frustration. The heel of her shoe snapped with the force. “Let go!”

Kent let out a yowl and backed up a step. “What the hell’s gotten into you?” he cried, reaching down to rub the top of his shoe, as if he could massage his wounded foot. Wincing, he turned furious eyes on her. “I thought we could work things out, you know? I thought tonight would be the perfect time. Did you see me with your father and Senator Mann? The man knew my name! God, what a rush! And I come back to share it with you—the woman I love—and what do I get?”

“Maybe you’re getting what you deserve,” Adam drawled, coming up behind Kent.

A wave of heat washed up Marnie’s neck. Oh, Lord! How much of their argument had he overheard?

Kent straightened, resting his foot gingerly on the floor as he eyed Adam. Adam was slightly taller, with harsher features, his hair a little longer, his whole demeanor laid-back and secure. Kent, on the other hand, looked military spit-and-polished, his tuxedo crisp, his hair clipped, his spine ramrod-stiff.

“I thought you were leaving,” Kent said, glowering at Adam.

“Not yet.”

Kent straightened his tie and smoothed his hair. “Does Victor know you’re here?”

Adam lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, but his features were set in stone. “I hope so.”

Instinctively, Marnie stepped closer to Adam, and Kent shot her an irritated glance, his eyes slitting. “Just what is it you want, Drake?” he demanded, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his pants and angling his face upward to meet Adam’s hard glare. “Why don’t you just leave?”

“Not until I ask Victor if he knows who Gerald Henderson is?”

“Henderson?” Kent repeated, his expression so bland it had to be false. “Didn’t he work for us?”

“In accounting,” Adam clarified.

“I remember him,” Marnie interjected, refusing to be left out of the conversation. “He left because he had health problems—asthma, I think. He had to leave the damp Northwest. And he got a better job with a hotel in San Diego.”

“Still lives in Seattle,” Adam replied. “Spends a lot of time fishing. If I’m not wrong, I think he’s drawing some sort of disability or retirement.”

Marnie glanced from one stern face to the other. “Didn’t the job in California work out?”

“Who cares?” Kent replied. “Henderson’s history.”

“Maybe,” Adam said, and the undercurrents in his voice jarred her. She was missing something in this conversation, something important.

Kent swallowed. “I don’t think Victor would be interested,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

“Not even if Gerald had an idea about the missing funds?”

“What?” Marnie demanded, shocked.

“It’s nothing,” Kent snapped. “Henderson couldn’t possibly know—”

“Adam Drake?” Judith Marx, a reporter for the Seattle Observer who had obviously seen some of the hubbub, walked briskly into the banquet room. “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said, her eyes taking in the scene in one quick glance.

The understatement of the year, Marnie thought.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Adam drawled.

“Can I quote you?” she asked.

“No!” Kent cut in, his face flushed, a vein throbbing near his temple. “Mr. Drake is an uninvited guest, and if you print that I’ll march over to the Observer and talk to John Forrester myself!”

“Mr. Forrester would never suppress news,” the woman replied smartly.

Kent whirled on Adam, his voice low. “Whatever it is you want, Drake, it can wait until later.”

By now, more than a few guests had drifted into the room. Kent was beginning to squirm. Whispers began to float around them, like tiny wisps of fog that lingered for a second, then drifted by.

“Mr. Drake?” Judith Marx obviously smelled a story. She wasn’t about to give up. “I thought you vowed vengeance against this company.”

“What I said was that I’d prove my innocence.”

From the corner of his eye, Adam saw Kent motioning with a finger to a beefy security guard in the doorway.

“Wasn’t that all taken care of?” Judith asked Adam, and he turned his attention back to the reporter. “You weren’t even indicted.” She reached into her bag for her pocket recorder. Kent glanced across the room, nodding to the two guards making their way inside.

Adam was ready for the two sets of hands that collared him and firmly guided him through a back door connecting the banquet room to the kitchen. He didn’t struggle. There was no point. Obviously Victor hadn’t seen him, or had decided to leave his dirty work to Kent. Either way, Adam wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. But his next move would be more subtle. Hauling him through the service entrance, the security guards deposited him roughly on the wet asphalt near a delivery truck.

One of the two guards, a big bear of a man with sandy hair and a flat face, muttered under his breath. “Still gettin’ yourself into trouble, ain’t’cha?” Sam Dillinger had worked with Adam for years before the scandal.

“Looks that way, Sam.” Adam brushed himself off as he stood. He managed a grim smile.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Drake. You know, I never believed you were involved in any of that thievin’.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

The other guard, a thickset man with short salt-and-pepper hair, snorted. He fingered the pistol strapped to his belt. “Don’t show up here again,” he warned. “Just haul your butt out of here and don’t come back!”

“Be sure to tell Mr. Simms he hasn’t seen the last of me,” Adam said to Jim before sketching a wave to Sam. “See ya around, Sam.”

“You bet, Mr. Drake. Good luck to you.”

But Adam wasn’t counting on luck as he left the two guards arguing about his guilt. He ducked his head against the rain that slanted from the pitch-black sky.

The dock was slick, the wind raw and cold as he strode purposefully back to his boat. Now that he’d come face-to-face with Kent Simms again, he realized that nothing had changed. And since he didn’t have any proof other than Gerald Henderson’s side of the story, he couldn’t very well make accusations that could end up as slander. But from his reaction tonight, Adam was sure Simms knew more than he was telling. Adam had suspected Kent might be involved in the embezzling, of course, but he’d suspected a lot of people within the company.

Now, he decided, he’d start with Simms. He didn’t like the way the guy was manhandling Marnie, and the thought of giving Kent a little of his own back caused Adam to smile.

So, his next step would be to have a little chat with Kent before he tackled Victor. The more information he could lay at Montgomery’s feet, the better. And somehow, he sensed, Kent could tell him a lot.

Fortunately meeting Kent Simms face-to-face would be a simple matter. The Marnie Lee, a gleaming white cabin cruiser, and Simms’s personal vessel, was moored on the second dock.

Adam wasted no time. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the two guards were still watching as he stepped into his small boat. Unleashing the moorings, he settled behind the wheel and gunned the engine. The boat took off, churning a white wake as the engine roared loudly and he headed toward Seattle.

Twenty minutes later, when he was sure the guards were satisfied that he’d left the shores of Port Stanton and had returned to their posts in the hotel lobby, Adam circled back toward the Puget West and the docks where gleaming vessels rolled with the tide.

He wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. Adam intended to board the Marnie Lee and wait in the cabin to have it out with Simms once and for all. As he spotted the showy white vessel he thought of her namesake, the lady herself, Marnie Lee Montgomery. How could a woman as bright as Marnie obviously was link up with a loser like Simms?

It was a mystery, he thought, then he remembered the tail end of their fight and decided that all was not bliss in the relationship between Victor Montgomery’s strong-willed daughter and the man she’d chosen for a husband.

Adam felt a twinge of conscience as he lashed his boat to the dock, then climbed stealthily aboard Simms’s expensive cabin cruiser. He didn’t want to hurt Marnie; she’d always played fair with him. Though she’d been raised in the lap of luxury and been given anything she’d ever wanted, she seemed sincere.

Don’t forget she’s engaged to Simms. Even if they did have a lovers’ quarrel, they were, as far as he knew, still planning to marry. That thought left a sour taste in the back of his throat, but he ignored it. Marnie’s fate was just too damned bad. Any woman who gave her heart to a jerk like Simms deserved what she got.

Marnie couldn’t believe her ears! The minute Adam was escorted out of the hotel, Kent turned the interview with the reporter around and now, with his arm wrapped securely around Marnie’s waist, he was confiding in the woman that Marnie and he were making plans to marry in mid-September.

“Congratulations!” Judith said, snapping her small tape recorder on. “What day is that, the sixteenth—seventeenth?”

“No!” Marnie cried, aghast. What had gotten into Kent? In all the years she’d known him he’d never been so bull-headed or downright stupid.

Kent’s fingers tightened around her. “What she means is that we’re not completely certain on the date. We’ve still got to accommodate everyone in the family—”

“What I mean is that there isn’t going to be a wedding!” Marnie declared firmly, plucking Kent’s fingers off her and stepping away from him. “Kent and I aren’t getting married, not in September. Not ever.”

“But—” Judith looked from one to the other.

Kent lifted his hands and shrugged, as if Marnie’s announcement came as a complete surprise to him. He acted as if she were just some fickle female who couldn’t decide what she wanted, for God’s sake!

“You explain this!” Marnie commanded, her voice as cold as a winter day. Shaking with rage, she turned on the reporter. “I’d better not read about any wedding in your paper. Not one word!” Spine stiff, she marched straight through the banquet-room doors and to the elevator in the lobby.

Pounding on the button for the fourth floor, she bit her tongue so that the invectives forming in her throat would be kept inside. The elevator doors shut softly, cutting off the sounds of the party, and the car ascended. Furious, her insides shaking with anger, Marnie leaned her forehead against the cool glass. “Calm down,” she ordered to herself. “Don’t let that bastard get to you!”

The elevator stopped and she stepped through the opening doors, storming into her father’s suite. What was Kent trying to do? He’d been acting strangely all night! How had she ever been foolish enough to think she wanted to marry him?

She stalked into the smaller bedroom. Her suitcase, packed and waiting, was where she’d left it near the foot of the bed. Good. She peeled off her gown, threw her jewelry into a case and stuffed the velvet box back into her father’s safe.

By the time Victor knocked softly on the door to her room, she had changed into faded jeans, a sweatshirt and a down-lined jacket. “Marnie? You in here?”

“For the moment.”

He opened the door and shook his head at the sight of her. “And where do you think you’re going?”

She sent him a chilling glance. “I’m leaving. Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” he said, holding out his palms as if to forestall an argument, “but I thought you might change your mind and wait a bit. Kent just told me he had Adam Drake thrown out of the party while I was wrapped up with Senator Mann. God only knows what’s going to be in the papers tomorrow! I need you to talk to the press—”

“I just did.” Marnie wasn’t about to be sidetracked by her father’s ploy. “That was a dirty trick, Dad,” she said, yanking her suitcase onto the bed and snapping it open to double-check the contents.

“What?”

Satisfied that she’d packed everything she needed, she clicked the case shut. “You told Kent to give the press a wedding date, didn’t you?”

“Of course not—”

“He never would have done it without getting the okay from you,” she insisted. “He wouldn’t do anything that might threaten his precious career with Montgomery Inns.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me, Dad! It’s belittling to both of us.”

Her father seemed about to protest, then let out a long, weary sigh. “Okay, I suggested that Kent—”

“Oh, Dad, how could you!”

“We needed a distraction. I saw Adam Drake and knew he was here to stir up trouble and then that reporter woman, Judith Marx…” He shuddered. “She can be a barracuda.”

“Then why didn’t you confront Drake?” she asked, astounded.

Her father shook his head. “Only cause a worse scene. Anyway, I saw Drake and started to follow him into the banquet room when Senator Mann came up to me. Then the reporter started snooping around and I put two and two together. Instead of a big spread about opening this hotel, tomorrow’s edition of the Observer would probably just bring up Adam Drake and all the problems we had getting this damned hotel built! Believe me, Marnie, we don’t need any more bad press.”

“Great. So I became the distraction,” she whispered, exasperated beyond words.

“When Kent talked to me earlier I wasn’t for it, but then I saw Drake and the reporter and I gave him the high-sign to go ahead and announce your wedding plans.”

“You’re incredible,” she whispered in exasperation. “Absolutely incredible!” Hooking a thumb to her chest, she added, “We’re talking about my life, Dad. Mine!”

“Marnie, you have to understand—”

“Oh, I do, Dad,” she said, feeling sad as she realized that the company meant more to him than her happiness. “You can give Kent a message for me. Tell him that I’m taking the Marnie Lee. If he throws a fit, remind him that half of it is mine. So I’m taking my half—too bad his half is attached.”

“Wait a minute—at least tell me where you’re going.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“You don’t know?” he repeated. “You can’t just leave without a plan.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. The next few days I’m going to figure out just what I want to do with my life. Take some time to think about it, then, when I get back, I’ll let you know. Goodbye, Dad.” More determined than ever, she headed out of the suite and down a short hall to a private elevator, which took her to the underground parking lot. From there it was only a few steps to the back of the building.

Outside, the wind ripped through the trees and the black water of the sound moved in restless waves. Marnie followed the path beneath the line of dancing Japanese lanterns.

Reaching the dock, she spotted the Marnie Lee and smiled faintly. Wouldn’t Kent be tied in knots when he learned she’d taken the boat he’d come to think of as his? Kent had used the boat for the past six months. He’d be shocked to his toes when he found out she had taken command of the sleek vessel Victor had given them as an engagement present. Let him stew in his own juices—September wedding indeed!

Tossing her suitcase on board, she felt better than she had all night. She unleashed the moorings holding the Marnie Lee fast then climbed to the helm. The engine started on the first try, the dark waters of the sound churning white. Biting her lip, Marnie maneuvered the craft around the other vessels and toward the open waters of Puget Sound.

She decided to head to Orcas Island.

There was an old resort on the island, a resort her father planned to refurbish, and the old hotel would be the perfect place to camp out the first night. From there she would decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She couldn’t be Victor Montgomery’s baby forever. Nor did she want to be Kent Simms’s wife. That left Marnie Montgomery, a single woman who had dutifully done everything her father had requested, from college to her career at Montgomery Inns.

Marnie let out the throttle and the boat sped forward, the prow knifing through the choppy dark water, the wind tearing at her hair. She let out a whoop of pure joy!

For the first time in her twenty-four years, she felt completely free. She closed her eyes and felt the soft caress of the wind on her face.

The next few weeks were going to change the course of her life forever!