Read One Touch of Topaz Page 7


  The shirt was unbuttoned, but he hesitated, his teeth clenched with tension and fear, creating a cold knot in his stomach.

  He slowly opened Samantha’s bloodstained shirt to examine the wound.

  FIVE

  THE FIRST OBJECT that came into focus when Samantha opened her eyes was the baseball cap. The red, sun-faded hat was perched with casual impudence on the rumpled sandy hair of Skip Brennen. He was older than he had looked in the shadowy lights of the helicopter’s control panel, she thought hazily. Brennen must be somewhere in his mid-thirties, though his square, blocky physique and lack of height made him appear much younger. Freckles covered his face in such profusion, they looked like a tan and formed a solid background for the light blue eyes that were now gazing down at her quizzically. “Hi, I’m Skip Brennen. I won’t be hurt if you don’t remember me. You were pretty busy the one time we introduced ourselves.”

  “I remember you …” Her eyes widened as she came to full alertness. “Is Fletch—”

  “Fletch is fine. You were the only one who was wounded.”

  She relaxed. “That’s good.”

  “Not according to Fletch.” Skip grimaced. “He’s been giving us hell for the last twenty-four hours. First he was sure you were dying. Then when he found you only had a graze across your rib cage, he couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t wake up.”

  “I don’t understand, either.” She struggled to a sitting position, flinching as a hot pain streaked through her left side. She shook her head in wonder. Twenty-four hours. She gazed around the light, airy room. This was definitely not a hospital room. Everything around her spoke of the casual elegance that only money and a skilled interior decorator could produce. The room was lovely, summery with its white wicker furniture, the green-leaf print on the white curtains at the large picture windows, the plush luxury of the emerald-green carpet. “Where am I?”

  “Damon’s Reef. Fletch didn’t want you moved any farther until you regained consciousness.”

  “Moved?” One hand threaded nervously through her hair. “Oh, yes, of course. He’ll want to send me to Barbados as soon as I’m able to travel.”

  Skip shook his head. “Somehow I don’t think that’s what he has in mind.” He grinned down at her. “But I’ll let you find out for yourself from Fletch. He told me to let him know the minute you woke up. Do you think you’re in good enough shape to face him yet?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Of course. Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, most people find Fletch a bit overpowering.” He tapped his chest. “Yours truly included. I wouldn’t want to face him in a weakened condition.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know why you say that. Fletch is really very kind.”

  “Kind? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard Fletch referred to in that way.”

  “No, truly. He appears all prickly on the outside, but he does want what’s best for people. He just gets crotchety when people don’t agree with him about what’s best for them.”

  He burst out laughing. “Crotchety? I love it.” He turned away. “I’ve got to remember to tell Fletch that he’s only being ‘crotchety’ when he decides to smash his next competitor into the dust.” There was still a lingering smile on his face as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll send in your nurse to wash your face and help you brush your teeth.” He waved his hand vaguely. “And all that. Fletch didn’t want you to wake up to a strange face, so he relegated her to a chair in the hall.” He shook his head. “Hell, the only reason he let me sit with you was because he had to take an important transatlantic telephone call.”

  “Thank you. The nurse’s help will be wonderful.” She made a face. “I feel terribly untidy.”

  “You’ll feel better soon.” He opened the door. “I’ll see you later. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She watched the door swing shut behind him, then leaned back against the pillows with a sigh of relief. She felt incredibly weak, and it was difficult to sit upright. How stupid to become this helpless from a wound that was hardly more than a graze. But surely she would be perfectly well in a few days, and then she could think about going back to St. Pierre for Paco.

  A chill ran down her spine, and she firmly blocked out the fear that was sapping her willpower. It would have been so much better if the patrol had not shown up the previous night. Now she had to steel herself for the task all over again, and there was the additional problem of how she was to get back to St. Pierre. She definitely couldn’t let Fletch send her to Barbados. It would be twice as hard to return if Ricardo learned of her intentions.

  “Miss Barton?”

  She hadn’t heard the door open, but a small, heavyset woman in a white uniform stood in the doorway. A brilliant white smile illuminated the woman’s café-au-lait face. “I’m Sara London. I know exactly how nasty you feel. You just put yourself in my hands and I’ll make you feel one hundred percent okay in the next ten minutes.”

  The nurse was exuding such bouncy optimism that Samantha found herself returning her smile and permitting herself to relax. She had been surrounded by defeat and despair for so long that it was refreshing to be around a person who had confidence that she could change everything for the better.

  “That would be wonderful, Sara. Come in and let’s get started.”

  ________

  It wasn’t until Sara was almost finished with her transformation procedure that Samantha noticed the statues. Her statues, all five of the figures she had placed in Fletch’s backpack before they had left the caverns, were grouped on a small glass-topped table across the room.

  The brush moving through Samantha’s hair paused in mid-motion as Sara’s gaze followed Samantha’s across the room. “They’re real nice, aren’t they? Mr. Bronson said you’d like to have them here when you woke up. He arranged them on the table himself last night.”

  Warmth surged through Samantha. “That was thoughtful of him. It’s nice to have things familiar to you when you wake up in a strange place.” Then she regretfully shook her head. “But they aren’t mine any longer. Will you have someone take them to Mr. Bronson?”

  “No, she won’t.” Fletch stood in the doorway gazing at her. Samantha felt her heart leap with delight at the sight of him. He was dressed in white jeans and a fawn-colored sweatshirt that made his red hair glow flamelike in contrast. The room was suddenly brighter, charged with color and vitality.

  “You look a hell of a lot better than you did when I left a little while ago. How do you feel?”

  Samantha’s amused gaze met Sara’s. “One hundred percent okay, thank you. When can I get up?”

  “Tomorrow, but even then you’ll have to take it easy.” He came toward her, his gaze never leaving her face. “For a long time.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll give myself a few days to rest, but I’ll be perfectly able to function normally after that.” Her gaze returned to the statues across the room. “It was kind of you to have them put here, but you should take them to your room now.”

  “Oh, should I? As usual, you’re leaving me no choice in the matter. Do you have any other instructions for me?” His gaze shifted to Sara. “If you’ll excuse us, I think Miss Barton and I have a few things to discuss privately.”

  Sara quickly gave Samantha the hairbrush. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” She gave Fletch a tentative smile as she hurried from the room.

  “Why, she’s afraid of you,” Samantha said, surprised. It seemed impossible that anyone as confident as Sara could be intimidated, yet that last glance she had shot at Fletch had been definitely apprehensive. “Do you have that effect on many people?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “That’s not important at the moment. I guess I’d better give you a report on your friends to help clear the decks. Lazaro is in a hospital in Barbados. He’s doing well and expected to be released in a couple of weeks. I arranged for special help to be given to Luz and any other refugees who might need it. Now let’s get to the e
ssentials, shall we?” He dropped down on the cushioned rattan chair beside the bed. “You first. Tell me what your plans are.”

  “I’ll take a few days to recover, and then I’ll have to find a way to return to St. Pierre to help Paco.” She paused. “I wonder if you might help me with that? Perhaps Skip could drop me off somewhere in the hills. I know it’s asking a great deal, but I really can’t leave for Barbados yet.”

  “I have no intention of sending you to Barbados.”

  “Then could Skip take me to St. Pierre?”

  “No, he can’t, and since this is a private island, you’re not going to find anyone else to take you there, either.”

  “But I really have to—”

  “No.” Fletch’s hands closed tightly on the arms of the chair. “Hell, no. You’re not going back to St. Pierre.”

  “I know you’re concerned about me, and it’s very kind of you to—”

  “I wish you’d stop saying that. I’m not kind,” he said impatiently. “I just have the usual amount of horse sense, something you appear to be lacking.” He paused. “Besides, I’m selfish enough not to want you to spoil my plans.”

  “Plans?”

  “I have a few plans of my own, and they don’t include you going back to St. Pierre.” He held up his hand as she began to protest. “Listen to me. The doctor made all kinds of tests while you were sleeping. He couldn’t understand why you collapsed and remained unconscious when the wound was actually minor. He found you were suffering from extreme exhaustion.” His hand lowered, slowly closing into a fist. “And malnutrition. He said you’d probably been abusing your body, living on your nerves for years. You need months, not days, of rest. You need good food, long lazy days, and no worry.”

  She shook her head. “Not now. I’ll rest later, after I get Paco off St. Pierre.”

  “I thought that would be your reaction,” Fletch said grimly. “You’re like a terrier that won’t let go of a slipper. Well, that’s all right. It fits into my plans. I have a deal to offer you. You want Paco Ranalto safely off St. Pierre, right?”

  She frowned. “Of course.”

  “And it would endanger your health to go after him right now.”

  “That doesn’t matter. I’m stronger than—”

  “If you tell me one more time how tough you are, I’ll be tempted to strangle you. I’ve just spent twenty-four hours sitting here worrying about you.”

  “Did you worry about me?” Samantha smiled radiantly. “It’s nice to have someone worry about me.”

  He was silent, gazing at her in exasperation. “Even when it’s only a ‘crotchety’ old businessman?”

  She laughed. “Skip told you. I did say you could be crotchety, but I never said you were old.”

  “That’s comforting. I’m glad you don’t find me completely unappealing. Particularly since my plan calls for considerable intimacy.”

  She went still. “Intimacy?”

  He nodded. “I have a bargain that would meet both our needs. You want your friend, Paco. I want a child with none of the disadvantages I’d ordinarily encounter with a woman who might demand more than I’d be willing to give.” He leaned forward, his gaze holding her own. “I propose a trade. I’ll send a team of men into St. Pierre to locate both Ranalto and your Dr. Salazar if you like. They’ll transport them to Barbados with enough money to set them up quite nicely.” He paused. “In return you have my child and agree to sign a document giving me the custody of the child if you decide to leave me. I’d stipulate that you stay with me at least two years after the child is born. I believe that’s fair. I heard it’s better for the child to have its mother with it during infancy.”

  “I’ve heard that too,” she said, dazed. This was crazy. She felt as if she were caught in the whirling center of a vortex that was displacing everything that was sane and reasonable. She shook her head to clear it. “You must be joking.”

  “No, I couldn’t be more serious.” His gaze moved from her face to the window across the room. “After two years you’d be free to leave. The divorce settlement will be spelled out in detail in the premarital contract. It will be more than generous.”

  “Divorce? Then you want me to marry you?”

  “Of course.” His gaze swung back to her in surprise. “Didn’t I mention that? If I’m going to go ahead with this, naturally I’ll want the child to be legitimate.”

  “Naturally,” she echoed faintly.

  “You’ll have every comfort, complete freedom, and the knowledge that you helped to free your friends. Doesn’t that sound tempting?”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes. “It sounds … I don’t know. I can’t think.”

  “Open your eyes, Samantha. Look at me.” Fletch’s voice was gentle. “This is the right thing to do. You know it is. You can trust me.”

  She opened her eyes to see his face close to hers. His lips were curved in that rare smile that lent beauty to his harsh features. Yes, she could trust Fletch. He was rock-solid in a shifting world. “It wouldn’t work, Fletch,” she whispered. “I don’t think I could give up my child after two years.”

  “Then you can choose to stay with me,” he said calmly. “Or rather, with the child. No one is going to throw you out in the streets. We got along very well in difficult circumstances on St. Pierre. There’s no reason we can’t be equally companionable on a more conventional plane.”

  “I seem to remember you were upset with me most of the time on St. Pierre.” Her lips were trembling as she tried to smile at him. “We’re not at all alike.”

  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a peaceful coexistence.” His gaze returned to the window. “There were a few times when we were in total agreement. You wouldn’t have to see much of me. I told you I’m a very busy man.”

  And he didn’t want a wife who would make demands on his time, she thought. Why did that realization bring such pain? “Yes, I remember.”

  “Perhaps you object to having a child?”

  “No, I think I’d like a child of my own. It’s been a long time since I had anyone to care about. Except Paco and Ricardo, of course.”

  “You’ll be able to study with the best teachers, and when you’re ready, I’ll see that your career is launched with the appropriate fanfare. What have you got to lose?”

  “I don’t know.” Her fingers twisted together nervously. “It all seems so … sterile.”

  His gaze was on her face immediately. “Do I appear to be a man who would be content with a sterile relationship? I assure you that my appetites are very strong. Or have you forgotten?”

  Color flooded her cheeks. “No, but perhaps I won’t be able to satisfy you.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “You didn’t seem to want me after …” She trailed off. This was very difficult. “You may decide I’m not what you want.”

  “I’ll want you. Don’t worry about that.”

  “But I will worry about it. I’ll worry about everything. This is a crazy idea. You’ve oversimplified the entire situation. There are so many things that could go wrong.”

  “I’m not pushing you to make a decision right away.” He stood up. “I realize you’re still weak and disoriented, and when you do make up your mind, I don’t want any backpedaling. Once the deal’s made, we push ahead with it.”

  She laughed shakily. “I feel like the object of a takeover.”

  He shook his head. “It will be a merger, and the concessions I’ve offered have been very generous.” He suddenly looked uncertain. “I guess I’m doing this pretty clinically, but it’s the only way I know how. Do you want pretty phrases?”

  “I could use a few words of reassurance.”

  “But I’ve told you I’ll have a contract drawn up—”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. Do you like me, Fletch?”

  A slow smile lit his face. “Oh, yes,” he said softly. “There’s no question about that. Do you like me?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but—”

  “No buts.” He leane
d down to place two fingers on her lips. She inhaled sharply and felt the muscles of her stomach clench. Her lips began to throb beneath his touch, as they had that moment in the caverns. “And no qualifications. Just think about it.” His fingers fell away from her lips and he took a step back. “I have to fly to Washington on business, and while I’m there I’ll set the wheels in motion to organize a team to get your friends off St. Pierre. I’ll be back in two weeks, and you can give me your answer then. All right?”

  “All right,” she whispered. “I don’t know about your … your proposition.”

  “That’s why you’re going to take this time to think it over.” His smile exuded confidence. “It’s a good deal and you’d be an idiot not to sign on the dotted line.”

  “But I’m not a good businesswoman, and I believe you’ve been rude enough to call me an idiot before.”

  “That’s why you should merge with someone like me.” His eyes twinkled. “I’m a whale of a businessman, and I’ll make damn sure we make a success of it.” He turned away. “Relax, sleep, eat, loll on the beach. If you make a decision before the two weeks is up, tell Skip to phone me and I’ll come back.”

  “You’re not taking Skip?”

  “He’ll fly me to Miami and I’ll take a commercial jet from there. I want you to have someone here you know.”

  “That’s not necessary. I can take—”

  “Samantha, stop arguing. He’s staying.” His voice was suddenly weary. “You won’t need a nurse after a few days, but you seem to like Sara, so she’ll stay on in whatever capacity you decide.”

  Samantha’s lips curved in a faint smile. “Doesn’t she have anything to say about it?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a rich man. I’ll make her an offer she can’t refuse.”

  “You sound like the godfather.” She continued deliberately, “And as arrogant as hell.”

  “I’m not arrogant, but I do know how to get what I want.”

  “Take what you want and pay for it.”