Scout's Honor (9 page)

He warmed to his subject with an enthusiasm
that enticed her as much as the pictures he wove with words. Vistas
of clear mountain mornings and pine-scented forests came alive for
her in the balmy, Bahamian afternoon. She knew they were teasing
each other, that they would never share a cup of coffee around a
crackling fire, with the darkness closing in, or together hear the
slap of a beaver’s tail on a high mountain pool, but it was a
lovely fantasy and a wonderful way to spend an hour or two.’

After he’d finally dragged them home with a
creel full of cutthroats, Anna sporting a blister or two from their
days on the trail, she took him to Africa, where the stars shone
the brightest and the Serengeti stretched farther than the eye
could see.

Halfway up the Never Summer Range in
Colorado, they’d ordered a bottle of Chenin Blanc. As Mitch poured
the last of it into her glass, they walked out of the heat in
Africa, sunburned and tired, and boarded a slow boat to China and
Hong Kong, having decided the fantasy was too good to end.
Unfortunately the waiter had other ideas, such as going home.

He delivered the check with an authority
that would brook no further delay. Anna and Mitch reached for it
simultaneously, but Anna insisted.

“Then dinner’s on me,” Mitch countered.

As they stood up he gathered her in his arms
and hugged her close to his chest. “Halfway around the world and
not a single argument. I knew we’d be good together,” he whispered
in her ear, then gave her the lightest of kisses.

Sunshine, wine, and Mitch Summers had taken
all the rough edges off Anna’s world. She wrapped her arms around
his waist and snuggled her head under his chin, soaking up the
warmth and sturdiness of his body. This must be what it was like to
truly be in love, she thought. Easy and natural and fun—and a
little unsteady on your feet.

His hand rested on her hip as he guided her
off the patio and into the square. “Come on, memsahib. Let’s drop
these hats off at my hotel and find a cozy place for dinner. Look.”
He pointed into the distance toward the harbor. “You can almost see
Hong Kong on the horizon.”

* * *

The Colonial Hotel stood on Bay Street. It’s
blue, shade-filled verandas stretched along both floors of the
white frame structure. His room, Mitch told Anna as they walked
along a stone path winding under lush palms, had a view of the
garden courtyard rather than the more expensive view of the ocean.
Then he abruptly released her hand and stepped ahead of her.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said,
picking a blossom from a flowering hibiscus.

“Steal flowers?” Anna asked.

He approached her slowly, twirling the
flower between his fingers, his eyes half closed and twinkling with
mischief.

“Steal a flower . . .” he admitted, his hand
smoothing her hair back from her face as he tucked the flower
behind her ear, “. . . and steal a kiss.”

His actions followed his words. He lowered
his mouth to hers and let
his hand brush against her cheek before he slipped it into his
pocket, holding her with just a kiss.

Anna quickly found she needed something more
to steady her world. Raising her hands a few inches, she held on to
the first solid thing she touched, Mitch’s hips, and as he deepened
the kiss her fingers curled up and around the waistband of his
jeans.

He sighed in pleasure, stepping closer until
their bodies touched from the curve of her breasts down the length
of their thighs. Slowly he rubbed his body against hers, and with
each movement she felt a shaft of heat run through her insides,
melting reality into a pool of passion she wanted to drown in.

His mouth left hers, nuzzling the side of
her neck—wet, warm, and enticingly erotic.

“Make love with me, Anna.” The words were
whispered in her ear. “Make love with me tonight.”

Her body answered by pulling him closer, but
her mind refused to follow. Three days from tonight he would be
gone. She didn’t really know him. Anna Lange didn’t fall in love or
into bed this fast.

The silent battle waged in her mind,
dampening her desire with facts. Reluctantly she released him,
allowing her hands one last caress down the sides of his hips
before she let him go.

Mitch didn’t move. His mouth still hovered
next to her ear. The heat of his body still enveloped her.

“Why?” was the only word he spoke, gently
and without resentment.

And why do you have to be so nice? Anna
wondered, wishing she had something more than confusion to answer
him with. Any other man would have been angry, could have called
her a tease and not been off the mark. How had she allowed the
situation to get so far out of hand? So far past the exchange of
strangers?

“Is It Nick?” he asked, still not
moving.

“No, yes . . . I don’t know. I have to go
home.” She backed away from him, feeling like a naïve schoolgirl
for the inept way she was handling him, handling herself.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No . . . no.” She held up her hand to stop
him. “My car’s only a few blocks from here. I’ll be fine.”

“I’d feel better if—”

“I can take care of myself,” she said as she
continued to back away. “I can take care of myself,” she
repeated, wishing she could forget
about all the tomorrows and let Mitch take care of her. But she was
Anna Lange, and this game of love was stacked too heavily toward
failure for her to play.

Diamonds or sapphires? Anna wondered. She
held one of each to her ears and studied her reflection in the
mirror. Her dress was a white silken sheath with a mandarin collar
and long sleeves tapering to points on the backs of her hands, and
every inch was covered with glittering white sequins. It fell to
the floor like an icy flame, broken only by the thigh-revealing
slit up one side.

Sapphires, she decided, to highlight the
dramatic contrast between the dress and the shiny ebony hair piled
on her head. She’d worn diamonds with the dress in San Francisco,
the night she’d first noticed Mitch Summers. She frowned into the
mirror, annoyed, because no matter what she’d been doing these last
three days, Mitch’s image had edged into her mind. Sure, he was a
great kisser, but this was getting ridiculous.

She forced herself to concentrate on
tonight’s game. She checked the time. Six o’clock. Nick would be by
in half an hour to pick her up, but he’d probably be late, as
usual, and they’d have to scramble to get to his yacht on time.

Anna frowned again as she clipped the
sapphire earrings to her ears. She wished Nick had set the game up
in a hotel room. It would have made the logistics easier. Boarding
a boat in an evening dress wasn’t impossible, just difficult.
Especially when Nick, in his typically dramatic style, had moored
the
Belle Fille
off the coast instead of keeping her at the
marina. Controlling the room and everything in it added to their
control of the game, but still, off the coast? She knew why he’d
done it—for privacy—and normally she wouldn’t have given it a
second thought, but tonight was different. She was cheating
tonight, and it made her nervous. Not good pre-game
nerves, but gut-tightening
nerves.

She checked her makeup for the hundredth
time, adding an unnecessary stroke of blush to her cheekbones.
Dumonde wouldn’t be distracted by her exotic beauty, but it would
probably set the businessmen back on their heels. This was a game
Anna knew how to play to the hilt. Conceit had no place in her
assessment of her looks. Her attractiveness was a proven fact, and
she knew the effect was more a function of her mental attitude than
of her physical appearance. Undeniable beauty coupled with an
untouchable demeanor were a potent challenge to any man. Her
energies would be totally concentrated on the game, and the men’s
would be split between trying to take her money and wondering if
they could take her too.

One more thing. She opened up the top
dresser drawer and pulled out the juice deck. The cellophane
wrapper and seal were intact. The deck looked new. You didn’t need
any special knowledge to take a deck of cards out of its wrapper,
mark it, and put it back without having it look as if it had been
tampered with. You just had to be careful.

A knock on the door surprised her. Nick?
Early? Would wonders never cease? She placed the cards in her purse
and snapped it shut, then slipped into her heels. She had to adjust
one of them every few paces as she walked across the plush
carpeting to the tiled foyer, because a strap refused to stay in
place. She was still fiddling with it when she opened the door.

Instantly she knew it wasn’t Nick. The
square toes and worn leather of the cowboy boots on the other side
of the threshold could only belong to one person.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped at
the offending boots, the only part of him in her line of vision as
she struggled with her shoe.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Anna.” The boots
stepped into the foyer and Mitch knelt down. “Here, let me help you
with that,” he said, lifting her foot to his thigh.

Anna didn’t have any choice but to grab for
his shoulder and scowl at the sandy-brown head bent over her foot.
The position exposed the full length of her leg
, and not an inch of it escaped Mitch’s
appreciative gaze. He took his own sweet time fixing her shoe, his
warm hand gently clasped around her ankle. When he finished he let
his hand run up the back of her leg to the tender skin behind her
knee. He held her motionless as he slowly rose in front of her, his
fingers trailing up her leg until he reached sequins.

“Nice dress,” he said, a mischievous glint
in his eyes.

The trail of heat he’d left on her leg had
sapped the bite from her anger, but she wasn’t so dazed that she
didn’t have any bark left.

“Don’t evade the issue, boy scout. What are
you doing here?” She wished he weren’t standing so close. It was
difficult to deliver a scathing retort when your head was tilted
up, and glaring lost its potency at such close range.

“If Dumonde is as bad as I think, you might
need a bodyguard,” he explained, stepping back to let his gaze
travel up the length of her sparkling curves. “And, lady, you could
use someone to guard that body.” Soft brown eyes met cool gray
ones, telegraphing a wistful message and slowly melting her
insides.

Anna struggled to retain her facade of
composure. What she didn’t need tonight was Mitch Summers at close
quarters, distracting her from the game and making her heart skip
beats with those inviting looks.

“I’ve taken care of myself for a long time,
Mitch. Your offer is appreciated, but unnecessary. I doubt there’s
anything you could do for me that I couldn’t do for myself.
Besides, if I thought a bodyguard was necessary, I would have hired
some professional muscle.”

She didn’t enjoy putting him down, but it
was the truth. The threat of physical violence was unheard-of in
her circle, and any other possible confrontation was best handled
with a cool head and a gracious manner. She didn’t doubt Mitch’s
strength, only his ability to use it under pressure. He had a good
body, but it was hardly intimidating, and combined with that sweet
face it lacked even the potential of threat, broken nose or
not.

She’d been watching him while these thoughts
went through her mind, and was surprised at the lack of offense he
was showing. Most men would have insisted otherwise, struck a macho
stance, and set their jaws. But Mitch Summers wasn’t like most men.
He simply stood in the foyer with his hands in his pockets,
shoulders relaxed, and grinned that crazy, crooked grin.

“Then I’ll just come along for the ride, and
I promise to let you handle yourself.” He paused and did another
slow sweep of her body. “It won’t be as much fun as if I handled
you . . . but, hey, it’s your game.”

The grin never left his face, and Anna found
herself smiling back and shaking her head. He was something else.
She wasn’t sure yet just what that was, but definitely something
else. She was beginning to realize fairly often, though, that he
was hard to say no to.

“Okay, boy scout, you can come, but try to
be unobtrusive. Try to make me forget you’re there.” Now, why had
she said that? She could tell by the look on his face that he was
reading more into it than she’d meant. Or was he seeing right
through her?

“I’ll try to cool my jets, boss, but I don’t
think that will do the trick. You like me, and when you like a
person he’s hard to ignore. It’s natural to be aware of him, just
as I’m aware of you.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

“It’s the thing I’m second-best at—knowing
when someone likes me.” he said
.

Only a fool would deny the truth of what he
said, and Anna was no fool. “So you’re a good judge of character
and you know when someone likes you. What’s your absolutely best
thing?”

“I’ll let you figure that one out for
yourself,” he said, his voice becoming husky as he tucked a loose
tendril of silky hair behind her ear. The same ear he’d tantalized
under the shower. “I’ve got a feeling you’re going to find out real
soon.”

For every degree his voice dropped, Anna’s
temperature went up two. Despite her earlier assessment, Mitch
Summers wasn’t all sweet innocence, and a very feminine part of her
was becoming more and more intrigued by the sensual promise hiding
behind his soft brown eyes. Unconsciously she prepared herself for
the kiss destined to come, her hand reaching up to touch the worn
lapel of his tuxedo.

She’d no sooner made the gesture when they
were interrupted by someone knocking “shave and a haircut” on the
front door. The mood was broken, and Anna didn’t know whether she
was relieved or irritated. Relief was what she would have liked to
feel, but irritation edged her voice as she backed away.