The Reef

bright sunlight, had her digging in her heels. “Oh, I’ve got a moment or two for you, VanDyke. In fact, I’d enjoy dealing with you very much.” Alone, she thought, without Matthew shouldering her aside. “But if you don’t let me go, right now, I’ll start screaming.”
    “Now that would be an unfortunate mistake,” he said mildly. “And you’re a sensible woman. I know.”
    “Keep pawing at me and I’ll show you just how sensible.” Furious, she jerked her arm free. “I’m sensible enough to know there’s nothing you can do to me in a public place.”
    “Do to you?” He looked shocked, and vaguely offended. But his head was aching, pounding at the idea that she would defy him. “Tate, my dear, what a foolish thing to say. I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to you at all.I’m simply inviting you to come out and spend an hour or two on my yacht.”
    “You must be insane.”
    His fingers closed so quickly, so painfully over her arm, she was too surprised to shout. “Be careful. I don’t care for poor manners.” His face smoothed out again with a smile. “We’ll try again, shall we? I’d like you to accompany me for a short, friendly visit. If you refuse, or if you insist on making a scene here in, as you say, a public place, your fiancé will pay the price.”
    “My fiancé will scrape your face over the pavement, VanDyke, unless I do it first.”
    “What a pity that your mother’s gentle breeding seems to have skipped a generation.” He sighed, leaned closer, keeping his teeth clenched to control his voice. “I have two men watching your Matthew as we speak. They’ll do nothing unless you force me to signal them otherwise. They’re quite skilled and quite discreet.”
    The blood drained from her face, leaving it cold and stiff. “You can hardly have him killed in the lobby of the resort.” But he’d planted the seed of terror, and it was blossoming.
    “You can always take that chance. Oh, and wasn’t that your mother up in the boutique? She’s chosen several lovely things for you.”
    Numb with fear, Tate glanced up. She could see the glass doors and windows of the shop tossing back sun. And the man, broad shouldered, neatly dressed, loitering outside. He inclined his head slowly.
    “Don’t hurt her. You have no reason to hurt her.”
    “If you do what I tell you, I’ll have no reason to hurt anyone. Shall we go? I’ve instructed my chef to prepare a very special lunch, and now I have someone to share it with.” With a horrible gallantry, he tucked a hand under her elbow and led her toward the pier. “The trip will only take a short time,” he assured her. “I’m moored just west of you.”
    “How did you know?”
    “Oh, my dear.” Jaunty in his white suit and panama,pleased with his victory, he clucked her under the chin. “How naive of you to think I wouldn’t.”
    Tate jerked her arm from his grip, gave one last look back at the resort before stepping down into the waiting tender. “If you hurt them, if you so much as touch either of them, I’ll kill you myself.”
    She planned the ways she would do it as the tender cut through the water.
     
    In the boutique, Marla sighed. After instructing the clerk to set aside her selections, she set out to track down her daughter. She searched the restaurants and lounges, scanned the beach and the pool. Mildly irked, she went through the gift shop, then back to the boutique.
    When there was no sign of Tate, she marched back to the lobby intending to have the concierge do a page.
    She spotted Matthew jumping out of a cab.
    “Matthew, for goodness sake, where have you been?”
    “Something I had to take care of.” He patted his pocket where the contract he’d just signed was neatly folded. “Hey, I’m only a little late.”
    “Late for what?”
    “We said an hour.” Unconcerned, he glanced at his watch. “It’s just over that. So, did you talk her into a dress or is she still fighting it?”
    “I haven’t seen her,” Marla said grumpily. She was hot, frustrated. “I thought she was with you.”
    “No, we separated. She was going to meet you.” He shrugged. “We were talking about different kinds of weddings, flowers and stuff. She probably got involved in something.”
    “I don’t—the beauty salon,” Marla said, inspired. “She probably wanted to check about getting her hair and nails done, getting a facial.”
    “Tate?”
    “It’s her wedding.” Baffled by the casualness of youth, she