The Reef

shook her head. “Every woman wants to look her best as a bride. She’s down there right now going through pictures of hairstyles.”
    “If you say so.” The idea of Tate getting herselfpolished and painted for him had him grinning. This he had to see. “Let’s go smoke her out.”
    “I’m going to give her a piece of my mind, too,” Marla muttered. “I was starting to worry.”
     
    “Champagne?” VanDyke lifted a flute from the tray his steward had set beside a pair of peacock blue lounge chairs.
    “No.”
    “I think you’ll agree that it sets the palate for the lobster dish we’re having for lunch.”
    “I’m not interested in champagne or lobster or your transparent politeness.”
    Ignoring the little tremors of fear, Tate kept her shoulders braced. If she’d gauged it correctly they were about a mile west of the Mermaid. She could swim it if necessary.
    “What I am interested in is why you kidnapped me.”
    “Such a hard word.” VanDyke sampled the champagne, found it perfectly chilled. “Please sit.” His eyes frosted when she stayed braced against the rail. “Sit, now,” he repeated. “We have business to discuss.”
    Bravery was one thing. But when his eyes looked as flat and mindless as a shark’s, she thought it wise to obey. She sat stiffly and forced herself to accept the second flute he held out.
    She’d been wrong, she realized. He had changed. The man she had faced eight years ago had seemed sane. This one . . .
    “To . . .destiny, perhaps?”
    She’d have preferred to dash the contents of the glass into his face. Whatever small satisfaction that might bring her, she realized, would cost dearly. “Destiny?” It bolstered her to find her voice could be calm and even. “Yes, I could drink to that.”
    Relaxed, he sat back, holding the stem of the flute between his fingers. “It’s so charming to visit with you again. You know, Tate, you made quite a favorable impression on me during our last encounter. I’ve enjoyed watching your professional progress over the years.”
    “If I had known you were associated with the Nomad ’slast expedition in any way, I would never have been a part of it.”
    “So foolish.” He crossed his ankles to better enjoy the wine and the company. “Surely you know that I’ve financed a number of scientists, labs, expeditions. Without my backing, numerous projects would never have reached fruition. And the charities I support, worthwhile causes.” He paused to sip again. “Would you deny those causes, Tate, charitable and scientific, because you disapprove of the source?”
    She tipped her glass and sipped as delicately as he. “When the source is a murderer, a thief, a man without conscience or morals, yes.”
    “Fortunately few share your opinion of me, or your rather naive ethics. You disappointed me,” he said in a tone that had her pulse going thick. “You betrayed me. And you’ve cost me.” Absently, he glanced up as a steward appeared. “Lunch is served,” VanDyke told her, smoothly genial again. “I thought you’d enjoy dining al fresco.”
    He rose, offering a hand, which she ignored. “Don’t try my patience, Tate. Small rebellions only irritate me.” He demonstrated by clamping his hand over her wrist. “You’ve already disappointed me deeply,” he continued as she struggled against his hold. “But I’m hoping you’ll take this last chance I’m giving you to redeem yourself.”
    “Take your hands off me.” Temper spiked, propelling her around. Her fist was poised, ready to strike when he grabbed her braid and yanked sharply enough to have stars exploding in front of her eyes. When her body was dragged against him, she discovered the elegant clothes masked a tough, hard body.
    “If you think I have any qualms about striking a woman, think again.” His eyes glittered as he shoved her roughly into a chair. He leaned over her, his breath hitching, his eyes blind. “If I wasn’t a reasonable, civilized man, if I let myself forget that, I’d break you, a bone at a time.”
    Like a light switched, his eyes changed. The vicious temper turned into a smile that was edgy and thin. “Thereare those who believe that corporal punishment is unwise, even uncivilized.” Daintily he fussed with his lapels, then sat. Brushing a hand back, he signaled for the stone-faced steward to retrieve the wine and glasses. “However, I disagree. I’m a firm believer that pain and punishment are very effective for