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Authors: Jayne Castle
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a home on it?" Guinevere peered at the small, thickly forested island.
"He’s considering building one, but he hasn’t gotten around to it," Springer told her. "No one lives there right now. It would be strictly an investment."
One of the other men who had been freed for the day joined the conversation. He was a young intense man with round preppy glasses and a thin face. His name was Milton Tanner. "Your boss has done pretty well on his investments. He’ll probably find a way to turn that one into a fortune too."
Springer nodded. "Washburn’s done okay."
Milt Tanner’s face relaxed in a brief smile. "You can say that again. I got the job of researching him for my boss before we decided to make the proposal for the resort. He seems to have come out of nowhere in the mid seventies and has managed to keep a low profile, but there’s a lot of money behind him."
"He’s smart and he knows land values." Springer grinned. "Why do you think I work for him? He’s tough, but I wanted to learn from the best."
"How long have you been with him?" Guinevere asked, aware that Cassidy was growing restless beside her. He didn’t appreciate the conversation having taken a turn that more or less left him out of it.
"A year," Springer said. "Another cup of coffee?"
"Sounds great." Guinevere smiled. "There may be sun out here today but it’s downright chilly."
"I can take care of that little problem," Cassidy drawled, blue eyes glinting with meaning.
"Uh-uh." Guinevere smiled. "I think I’m safer with the coffee."
"People who always want to be safe miss a lot in life, Guinevere Jones. You don’t really live unless you take a few chances." Cassidy’s voice was soft, pitched for her ears alone. "It would be a shame if a woman like you missed too much along the way. I get the feeling you were born to take a few risks."
Guinevere tilted her head to one side, considering that. "I think you’ve made a slight miscalculation, Cassidy. The only risks I was born to take are those involved in running a small business, and I have to take more than enough of those."
He shook his head, eyes narrowed against the watery sunlight. "Trust me, honey. I could make you change your mind."
Guinevere smiled. He really was amusing. That kind of man often was. But a wise woman didn’t expect anything more than superficial entertainment from such a man. It was all they were capable of providing. If you looked for anything else you were doomed to disappointment. There was something missing, something a perceptive woman couldn’t always put her finger on but that she sensed was lacking. Guinevere knew that if she went looking for a complete man beneath Cassidy’s flashy exterior she wouldn’t find one.
The breeze seemed to turn colder as the boat headed back toward the marina.
The weather, however, was not nearly as cold as the expression in Zac’s gray eyes as he stood on the dock an hour later waiting for the returning boat to be made fast. Guinevere hadn’t noticed him until the last minute, and when she did she groaned inwardly. So much for small discretions. Cassidy was standing behind her, big as life, and she sensed his amused satisfaction as he solicitously helped her ashore.
"Anytime you want a private tour you just let me know, Gwen," he murmured as Zac came forward. "I can always squeeze you into my schedule. And you can see a hell of a lot more from the air."
"Thank you," she said lamely, aware of Zac’s bleak expression. She turned to him with a deliberately cheerful smile. "Oh, hello, Zac. I didn’t know you’d be able to meet me. Did the conference get out early?"
"No."
"I see. Well, we had a great tour of the area."
"I can imagine. You ready to go back to the hotel? It’s almost time for lunch."
He wasn’t going to be gracious or understanding about this, apparently. A small flame of resentment started to uncurl within her. Damn it anyway, she told herself. Who was Zac Justis to make her feel guilty over a social
"He’s considering building one, but he hasn’t gotten around to it," Springer told her. "No one lives there right now. It would be strictly an investment."
One of the other men who had been freed for the day joined the conversation. He was a young intense man with round preppy glasses and a thin face. His name was Milton Tanner. "Your boss has done pretty well on his investments. He’ll probably find a way to turn that one into a fortune too."
Springer nodded. "Washburn’s done okay."
Milt Tanner’s face relaxed in a brief smile. "You can say that again. I got the job of researching him for my boss before we decided to make the proposal for the resort. He seems to have come out of nowhere in the mid seventies and has managed to keep a low profile, but there’s a lot of money behind him."
"He’s smart and he knows land values." Springer grinned. "Why do you think I work for him? He’s tough, but I wanted to learn from the best."
"How long have you been with him?" Guinevere asked, aware that Cassidy was growing restless beside her. He didn’t appreciate the conversation having taken a turn that more or less left him out of it.
"A year," Springer said. "Another cup of coffee?"
"Sounds great." Guinevere smiled. "There may be sun out here today but it’s downright chilly."
"I can take care of that little problem," Cassidy drawled, blue eyes glinting with meaning.
"Uh-uh." Guinevere smiled. "I think I’m safer with the coffee."
"People who always want to be safe miss a lot in life, Guinevere Jones. You don’t really live unless you take a few chances." Cassidy’s voice was soft, pitched for her ears alone. "It would be a shame if a woman like you missed too much along the way. I get the feeling you were born to take a few risks."
Guinevere tilted her head to one side, considering that. "I think you’ve made a slight miscalculation, Cassidy. The only risks I was born to take are those involved in running a small business, and I have to take more than enough of those."
He shook his head, eyes narrowed against the watery sunlight. "Trust me, honey. I could make you change your mind."
Guinevere smiled. He really was amusing. That kind of man often was. But a wise woman didn’t expect anything more than superficial entertainment from such a man. It was all they were capable of providing. If you looked for anything else you were doomed to disappointment. There was something missing, something a perceptive woman couldn’t always put her finger on but that she sensed was lacking. Guinevere knew that if she went looking for a complete man beneath Cassidy’s flashy exterior she wouldn’t find one.
The breeze seemed to turn colder as the boat headed back toward the marina.
The weather, however, was not nearly as cold as the expression in Zac’s gray eyes as he stood on the dock an hour later waiting for the returning boat to be made fast. Guinevere hadn’t noticed him until the last minute, and when she did she groaned inwardly. So much for small discretions. Cassidy was standing behind her, big as life, and she sensed his amused satisfaction as he solicitously helped her ashore.
"Anytime you want a private tour you just let me know, Gwen," he murmured as Zac came forward. "I can always squeeze you into my schedule. And you can see a hell of a lot more from the air."
"Thank you," she said lamely, aware of Zac’s bleak expression. She turned to him with a deliberately cheerful smile. "Oh, hello, Zac. I didn’t know you’d be able to meet me. Did the conference get out early?"
"No."
"I see. Well, we had a great tour of the area."
"I can imagine. You ready to go back to the hotel? It’s almost time for lunch."
He wasn’t going to be gracious or understanding about this, apparently. A small flame of resentment started to uncurl within her. Damn it anyway, she told herself. Who was Zac Justis to make her feel guilty over a social
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