Peace. Warmth. Strength.

  She stayed quite still, cherishing the moments, taking from him. Minutes passed. Finally, reluctantly, she straightened and scooted a few inches away and immediately felt alone. She didn’t look at him as she said haltingly, “I thank you very much.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He looked at her quizzically. “Okay?”

  “Of course. It was only the shock. I wasn’t prepared for her.” She swung her feet to the floor and jumped out of bed. “I’d better get dressed and get back to the castle.”

  He stiffened. “The hell you are.”

  She quickly began to dress.

  “You’re not going back there,” he stated flatly.

  “I have to go back. I have nowhere else to go.” She sat down and pulled on her boots. “When do you want me to come back?”

  “I’m supposed to let you go back and face that six-foot dragon again?”

  “She’s no danger.”

  “You have a bruise that will last you a week that says otherwise.”

  “I told you, she caught me off guard. I’m not afraid of her.”

  “Well, I’m afraid for you.”

  She turned to stare at him. “You are?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. I’m responsible for that she-devil hurting you. It’s not going to happen again.”

  “It won’t.” She tried to ignore the warmth flowing through her as she smoothed her hair into some semblance of order. “Shall I come back tomorrow?”

  “Lord, you’re stubborn.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that you could use this to force my decision on San Miguel?”

  “No.” She gave him a faint smile. “I told you I wasn’t good at manipulating events to suit myself.” She strode toward the door. “And if I tried, you’d probably toss me in the sea like you threatened to do to Betty.”

  “Let me understand this scenario. You’ll just come back here and let me use you until I get tired of it and then go back to the castle and be abused by that Godzilla?” His breath escaped in an exasperated rush. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be—”

  “All right, dammit. I’ll take you to San Miguel.”

  She stilled, her heart leaping with joy. “You will?” she whispered. “Truly?”

  “I don’t lie, Ysabel.” He smiled crookedly. “I’ll consider it a catharsis. I take it you’re still willing to accept me in your bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a long way to San Miguel. Since you appear to have become an obsession with me, maybe I’ll get you out of my system by the time we get there.”

  “When can we leave?” she asked eagerly. “Right away?”

  He nodded curtly. “I want you out of that place.”

  After all these years it was going to happen. She closed her eyes, dizzy with relief.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Her lids flew open and a brilliant smile lit her face. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing in the world is wrong.” She hurried to the door, unlocked it and threw it open. “I’ll be back in an hour. I have to pack and get my passport and …” She stopped as she remembered something. “Oh dear, my passport’s expired.”

  “I have a few friends in the State Department who can rush a renewal.” He started to dress. “Wait for me. I’ll go with you.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t bother. Your presence will only complicate things.”

  “You’re not facing that bitch alone.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “She won’t hurt me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I won’t let her.” Her face was radiant with joy. “Don’t you see? It’s over!”

  She heard him call after her but didn’t stop. She felt as if she were floating instead of walking as she climbed the hill toward the castle. She hadn’t expected this overpowering euphoria to envelop her, but she welcomed it. It would bolster her strength for the scene that was sure to come with Betty.

  “So he sent you packing?” Betty sneered as soon as Ysabel walked in the front door. “It’s no more than I expected. Do you know how many women have been in that cottage before you? He was like a tomcat flaunting those sluts he’d bring from the mainland. Every now and then I’d see them parading down the pier back to his boat and think—Where are you going?”

  “To my room.” Ysabel quickly climbed the steps.

  Betty hurried after her, still spurting venom. “He only used you to get back at Mr. Arnold and you let him do it. You spread your legs and let that spawn of Satan—”

  “Be quiet, Betty.” Ysabel threw open her bedroom door and crossed to the closet.

  “Don’t you be insolent with me.” Betty marched in after her. “You’ve been too uppity by far since—What are you doing?”

  Ysabel pulled out her pigskin suitcase and flung it on the bed. She went to the bureau, gathered up an armful of underwear and carried it to the suitcase.

  “Answer me.”

  “Isn’t it evident? I’m packing.”

  “You’re moving into that cottage with him?”

  “I’m leaving Winter Island.”

  Betty gasped. “You can’t leave. You belong here.”

  Ysabel went to the closet and gazed with distaste at the collection of dresses and gowns. She took one dress to wear on the trip, gathered up three pairs of suede boots and carried them to the bed. The soft suede rubbed against her arms as she threw them into the suitcase.

  “I’ve always liked the feel of suede against my skin.”

  A flash of heat went through her and she paused for a moment, gazing down blindly. Good Heaven, she must be turning into a nymphomaniac if just the thought of him could cause this reaction.

  “Ah, you’ve come to your senses,” Betty said with smug satisfaction as she saw Ysabel’s slight hesitation. “Now unpack that suitcase and I’ll try to forget all this nonsense.”

  “Go away, Betty.” Ysabel turned and went to the desk, opened the top drawer and got out her passport and checkbook. She put the documents in a purse. “I have things to do and you’re in my way.”

  Betty’s jaw went slack. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You’re actually going?”

  “After I shower and change.” She moved past Betty as she headed for the bathroom. “I don’t want you here when I come out.”

  Betty’s meaty hand closed on Ysabel’s arm and jerked her around to face her. “You’ve forgotten your place, slut. I’ll teach you—”

  “Let … me … go.” Ysabel spaced the words with icy precision. “You’ve never taught me anything nor shall you ever. I choose what I will or will not learn. It was my choice that I let you bully me all these years. But all of that is over now. You’re a wicked, cruel woman and I hope I never see you again as long as I live.”

  Betty’s hand tightened on her wrist. “You little savage upstart.”

  “I said, let me go.” Her eyes blazed with ferocity, her entire being focused on enforcing her will on the woman. “You’re right, I can be savage. I was taught the art in a school you’ve never attended and I’ve never forgotten one single lesson.”

  Betty laughed contemptuously. “You’re no bigger than a puppy snapping at my heels.”

  “It won’t make any difference.”

  “You think you can make me—” Her laughter faded and ceased altogether as she met Ysabel’s gaze. She took a step back.

  Ysabel pried her fingers off her arm. “Never again, Betty. You will never touch me again.” She turned toward the bathroom. “Get out!”

  Betty shook herself, trying to regain her aplomb. “You’ll be sorry. He doesn’t want you. He only wants the Winter Bride just as Mr. Arnold did. When he’s tired of you, you’ll come running back here to me and—”

  “I’ll never come back here. I told you, it’s over.”

  She shut the door on Betty’s enraged face.

  She despe
rately hoped Betty hadn’t seen that she had drawn blood on that parting shot. She was being foolish. What did she care if Jed was obsessed with the blasted painting? No emotional attachment existed between them, only this powerful sensual need. It didn’t matter if he saw her only as…

  It did matter.

  Well, she must not let it matter. Her new life was just beginning and she had too much to accomplish to moan and weep about the things she couldn’t change.

  “Are you okay?” Jed’s concerned gaze searched her face as he took her suitcase and then lifted her into the speedboat.

  “Fine.” She smiled as she sat down beside him. “I told you there would be no problem.”

  “You seem in excellent spirits anyway. She didn’t try to stop you?”

  She quickly changed the subject. “Where are we going from here?”

  “The airport in Seattle. I’ll make a phone call there to a friend in Puerto Rico before we catch a flight out to San Juan. From San Juan we’ll go by cabin cruiser to San Miguel.”

  “Won’t going by sea take a long time?”

  He shrugged. “About four days but it’s safer than by air when you need to enter a country unobtrusively.” He started the engine and backed away from the dock. “And I plan on being very unobtrusive, I assure you.”

  “So do I.”

  “You couldn’t prove it by what you’ve told me, or I should say not told me. Am I allowed to ask how long you think it’s going to take to find this treasure you left?”

  “I’m not sure. It depends on how good your contacts are.”

  He slanted her a glance. “And you’re not going to confide in me, I take it.”

  “When we get to San Miguel.”

  He cast a glance at the suitcase. “You didn’t pack much.”

  “There wasn’t anything I wanted to take away from here.” She looked out over the water. “As soon as we reach San Miguel, I’ll sign over possession of ‘The Winter Bride’ to you.”

  “How very cautious of you. No San Miguel, no Bride?”

  “I didn’t mean … I know you wouldn’t back out on your promise.”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” he said harshly.

  “Yes, I do. I know you’re tenacious, courageous, and determined. I also know you’re intelligent … and that you’re not as hard as you’d like the world to believe.” She smiled. “And I’m learning more all the time.”

  He studied her face. “This isn’t going to be easy. We’ll be lucky if we get out of San Miguel with our necks intact.”

  “It will be all right. Nothing will happen to you.”

  “I’m glad you’re so certain.” He shook his head. “You seem damn happy about all this. You’re practically glowing.”

  “Glowing? I feel like I’m blazing inside.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the rapidly receding island. “It’s starting, Jed!”

  Ysabel gazed up at the towering hotel as she got out of the taxi. “I thought we were going directly to the cruiser as soon as we reached San Juan.”

  “I have to meet someone who’s staying here at the hotel.”

  “Who?”

  “Ronnie Dalton, a business associate.”

  “Is that who you called from the airport at Seattle?”

  “Yes, we’ll leave tonight if Ronnie’s managed to lease the cruiser, but I want to make a few more arrangements.”

  “Like what?”

  “Getting your passport in order before we take off.” He tipped the taxi driver, took Ysabel’s elbow, and propelled her toward the entrance. “There’s no telling where we’ll end up before this is over.”

  “You’re truly worried, aren’t you? You think we’ll run into trouble?”

  “I always subscribe to Murphy’s Law. Then I’m never disappointed.”

  “Things aren’t going to go wrong this time.” She couldn’t keep the lilt from her voice as she entered the hotel. “I feel it.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He gazed concernedly at her radiant face. “Seven years is a long time, Ysabel. A rapine dictatorship like San Miguel’s gobbles up everything of value in sight.”

  “Are you trying to protect me again?” She shot him an amused glance. “Why? You’re not—”

  “It’s about time you got here.” A slender, fair-haired young woman dressed in faded jeans and a worn brown leather flight jacket was striding toward them across the lobby. Ysabel received a swift impression of wide-set green eyes, tousled golden curls, and a roses and cream complexion. The rough clothes should have made her appear boyish, but instead she looked like a slightly scruffy angel.

  She stopped before Jed and jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “What kept you? I’ve been waiting forever.”

  “The flight was late,” Jed said. “And two hours is not forever.”

  “Well, it seemed like forever. You know how I hate to wait.” The woman turned to Ysabel. “Who is she?”

  “Ysabel Corbin,” Jed answered. “Ysabel, this unmannerly person is Ronnie Dalton. Camerawoman extraordinaire. Unfortunately, she’s significantly lacking in other areas.”

  “Corbin?” Ronnie’s eyes flew to Jed’s face. “Your wife?”

  “My stepmother.”

  “Shades of Cinderella,” Ronnie murmured as her gaze went over Ysabel. “They’re not making them like they used to, are they?” A sudden gamin grin lit the angelic beauty of her face. “I should have know no one with any sense would have you, Jed.”

  “How do you do?” Ysabel said politely.

  “Much better now that something interesting is afoot.” Ronnie turned to Jed. “I rented a fifty-foot cruiser that has two cabins and stocked it with two weeks worth of supplies. When do we leave?”

  “You stay here. We leave for San Miguel tonight.”

  Ronnie scowled mutinously. “The hell you say. I told you I—”

  “I’m not after a story,” Jed interrupted. “This trip is a purely personal indulgence and I’m not risking your neck.”

  “Family business?”

  “You might call it that.”

  Ronnie glowered at Ysabel. “Is she going?”

  Ysabel nodded. “It’s necessary I go with Jed.”

  “For Lord’s sake, Jed, she looks like she’s made of whip cream,” Ronnie exploded in disgust. “If you’re not afraid of taking her, then I’m going too. I’ll shoot some new footage and well kill two birds with one stone.”

  “I told you there’s no story.”

  “Then we’ll find one.” Ronnie lifted her chin. “Maybe a follow-up on the one we did two years ago.” With her thumb and forefinger she drew an imaginary caption in the air. “San Miguel Today.”

  “You went to San Miguel with Jed?” Ysabel asked.

  “Of course, who do you think shot the film? He gets the glory, I do the work.” Ronnie grimaced. “Hell, Jed would have shot everything upside down.”

  “I’m not that bad,” Jed said testily.

  “Yes, you are. Remember that gang war in the ghetto in Detroit?” Ronnie turned to go. “I’ll run up to my room and get my bag. I’m all packed.”

  “No,” Jed said firmly. “Read my lips, Ronnie. You aren’t going.”

  “That’s right. Use me and then throw me away,” Ronnie said flippantly as she moved across the lobby toward the elevator. “It won’t take me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  “Ronnie, dammit.” Jed hurried after her. Looking at Ysabel over his shoulder, he tossed, “Wait here. Lord, she’s stubborn. I’ll be back as soon as I drum some sense into her.”

  Ysabel smothered a smile as he disappeared into the elevator with Ronnie. She settled on a nearby couch and made herself comfortable. It might be a long wait; Ronnie seemed to be a very determined woman. It was strange to see Jed at such a disadvantage; it certainly cast an entirely new light on his character. The relationship between them was clearly of long-standing, but Ysabel had caught no hint of a sexual undertone in the exchange she had witnessed. Jed clearly regarded R
onnie with the half tolerant, half exasperated affection Ysabel guessed he would a younger sister. The knowledge filled Ysabel with an odd relief.

  Five minutes later the door of the elevator slid open and a scowling Ronnie Dalton stalked out and over to Ysabel. “Dammit, he’s stubborn.”

  “That’s what he said about you,” Ysabel said mildly. “I take it he won?”

  “For the moment.” Ronnie smiled reluctantly. “I decided to retreat and prepare for a new foray.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “I gave him my room key and he went up to make a few phone calls.” Her frowned returned. “He told me to take care of you.”

  “Did he?” Ysabel smiled serenely as she rose to her feet. “That’s not necessary, but you can take care of our luggage, if you like.” She turned and moved toward the entrance. “Tell Jed I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Wait!” Ronnie hurried after her out into the street. “You can’t go anywhere. Jed told me to take care of you. He seems to think you’ll fall apart if the wind disturbs one strand of hair.”

  “Hair … hmmm.” Her gaze went to Ronnie’s short curls. “I’ll have to do something about that too.” Turning to the doorman, she said, “Taxi, por favor.”

  “Where are you going?” Ronnie asked.

  “Shopping. I brought only three pairs of boots.”

  Ronnie’s eyes widened. “And I thought I traveled light.”

  “They were the only useful things I had in my wardrobe.” She limpidly gazed at Ronnie. “The rest was ‘whip cream.’ ”

  Ronnie looked slightly sheepish. “I was pretty rude, right?”

  “Exceptionally.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m not good with people. Jed says I’m as belligerent as the devil.”

  She looked like a guilty little girl caught in some mischief, Ysabel thought. “And why are you belligerent?”

  “It’s my stupid face. No one takes me seriously,” Ronnie said in disgust. “I look like one of those old ads for Ivory soap or an angel on a Christmas card. I have to show people I’m more than that.”

  “Jed said you’re a fine camerawoman.”