her life.
Her heart ached with that desire, and so did her body as she recalled how Carter had taken her, fast and furious, in the lighthouse. She tingled with yearning to be back in his arms.
Using brisk strokes, she brushed out her hair while the curling iron heated. The problem is I have nothing to lose, and he has nothing to gain.
That imbalance made his reentrance into her life at this crucial time intriguing.
So what is he after?
Tonight, she intended to find out.
She curled her hair, pinning it half-up so the gold-tinted brown locks fell in swirling cascades down her back. She inserted simple diamond-post earrings into each ear.
You’re not as impenetrable as you think, Carter Stratton .
She swept blush along her cheekbones, then applied variegated eye shadows, black liquid liner and mascara, the smoky effect striking against her sun-bright irises.
Slicking on berry-red lipstick that matched her shoes, she took one last look in the mirror, satisfied that she could capture his attention and hold it there long enough to get some answers.
Then, she returned to the dining room.
She forced a confident smile, ready to schmooze and entertain, and charm the secrets out of her enigmatic lover.
#
And now, for the moment we’ve all been waiting for , Carter thought sarcastically. Carter had tried to brace himself for a grueling encounter with the man who just walked through the door.
The island chief of police, who Carter shared an unfortunate history with, strolled into the dining hall, a cigar clamped between his teeth. The noise of his cowboy boots echoed in the vast room. His eyes held the deadened look of a sniper.
And those steely eyes were trained on Carter the instant William Marquell set foot on the parquet floor.
The others had already arrived and were mingling amicably. Mayor Flemming in his standard “public figure” gray suit. Councilman Ward, the island’s District Attorney, with his sharp blue eyes and endless conspiracy theories. And Judge Avery, the infamous philanderer who didn’t know he had long-passed his prime. Carter and these important men had been exchanging small talk at the bar for the past half-hour. A group of heavy hitters, all here for their piece of the Montgomery Hotel pie.
At the police chief’s entrance, all discussion ceased. The man approached the bar with a bigger chip on his shoulder than Dirty Harry.
The prominent guests greeted him warily, despite sitting several rungs above Marquell on the political ladder. Not even the most powerful crossed him.
Except Carter, when he’d been about fifteen, a typical teenager with a big attitude, in the top one-percent in height and weight for his age bracket at the time. The night he’d crossed the line with Marquell, the man had treated him as an adult. Carter never forgot that encounter. He relived it every time he looked in the mirror and saw the scars.
Determined to be a civil for Ellie’s sake, Carter tamped down his seething hatred for the man. Forcing a smile, he stuck out his hand to shake with the police chief. “It’s been a long time.”
Marquell walked right past him and took a seat at the other end of the bar. The braided rope that looped through his Texas tie was held together by an obsidian stone, cold and black as his eyes.
With unconcealed sarcasm, Carter intoned, “A pleasure as always.”
“What did you say?” Marquell’s gravel-harsh voice made most men cower.
Carter shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t said to you before.”
“I could haul you in for that, boy.”
Carter took a sip of his scotch. “You could try.”
Chewing harder on his cigar, Marquell asked, “Is that a challenge?”
“If you make it one.”
Even the classical music playing in the background seemed to stop suddenly. Tension sizzled in the room. Judge Avery wrung his hands, looking like he wanted to step in but didn’t have the guts. None of them did. Carter was on his own.
Marquell flattened his palms on the counter.
Her heart ached with that desire, and so did her body as she recalled how Carter had taken her, fast and furious, in the lighthouse. She tingled with yearning to be back in his arms.
Using brisk strokes, she brushed out her hair while the curling iron heated. The problem is I have nothing to lose, and he has nothing to gain.
That imbalance made his reentrance into her life at this crucial time intriguing.
So what is he after?
Tonight, she intended to find out.
She curled her hair, pinning it half-up so the gold-tinted brown locks fell in swirling cascades down her back. She inserted simple diamond-post earrings into each ear.
You’re not as impenetrable as you think, Carter Stratton .
She swept blush along her cheekbones, then applied variegated eye shadows, black liquid liner and mascara, the smoky effect striking against her sun-bright irises.
Slicking on berry-red lipstick that matched her shoes, she took one last look in the mirror, satisfied that she could capture his attention and hold it there long enough to get some answers.
Then, she returned to the dining room.
She forced a confident smile, ready to schmooze and entertain, and charm the secrets out of her enigmatic lover.
#
And now, for the moment we’ve all been waiting for , Carter thought sarcastically. Carter had tried to brace himself for a grueling encounter with the man who just walked through the door.
The island chief of police, who Carter shared an unfortunate history with, strolled into the dining hall, a cigar clamped between his teeth. The noise of his cowboy boots echoed in the vast room. His eyes held the deadened look of a sniper.
And those steely eyes were trained on Carter the instant William Marquell set foot on the parquet floor.
The others had already arrived and were mingling amicably. Mayor Flemming in his standard “public figure” gray suit. Councilman Ward, the island’s District Attorney, with his sharp blue eyes and endless conspiracy theories. And Judge Avery, the infamous philanderer who didn’t know he had long-passed his prime. Carter and these important men had been exchanging small talk at the bar for the past half-hour. A group of heavy hitters, all here for their piece of the Montgomery Hotel pie.
At the police chief’s entrance, all discussion ceased. The man approached the bar with a bigger chip on his shoulder than Dirty Harry.
The prominent guests greeted him warily, despite sitting several rungs above Marquell on the political ladder. Not even the most powerful crossed him.
Except Carter, when he’d been about fifteen, a typical teenager with a big attitude, in the top one-percent in height and weight for his age bracket at the time. The night he’d crossed the line with Marquell, the man had treated him as an adult. Carter never forgot that encounter. He relived it every time he looked in the mirror and saw the scars.
Determined to be a civil for Ellie’s sake, Carter tamped down his seething hatred for the man. Forcing a smile, he stuck out his hand to shake with the police chief. “It’s been a long time.”
Marquell walked right past him and took a seat at the other end of the bar. The braided rope that looped through his Texas tie was held together by an obsidian stone, cold and black as his eyes.
With unconcealed sarcasm, Carter intoned, “A pleasure as always.”
“What did you say?” Marquell’s gravel-harsh voice made most men cower.
Carter shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t said to you before.”
“I could haul you in for that, boy.”
Carter took a sip of his scotch. “You could try.”
Chewing harder on his cigar, Marquell asked, “Is that a challenge?”
“If you make it one.”
Even the classical music playing in the background seemed to stop suddenly. Tension sizzled in the room. Judge Avery wrung his hands, looking like he wanted to step in but didn’t have the guts. None of them did. Carter was on his own.
Marquell flattened his palms on the counter.
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