Escapade. Diana Palmer

suppose you think a million dollars is too much to pay for a beachfront cottage?”

      “Rich absentee owners have certainly priced the Bahamian people out of their own land,” she said noncommittally.

      Brad stopped and studied Amanda through his sunglasses. Tall and slender, with black hair down to her waist and pale green eyes, she wasn’t exactly a beauty, but she dressed to emphasize her best features. And she had a warm heart and a loving nature. If her father hadn’t been such a strict parent, Amanda would probably have been long married at twenty-three, with a houseful of children.

      “We were all sorry to hear about your father,” Brad said solemnly. “Rough, your being an only child.”

      She shrugged. “He was hardly ever at home, until he got so sick. Even then he preferred the company of his nurse to me. I only saw him when we argued over my choice of possible futures.”

      “So I recall,” Brad said, chuckling. “Harrison wanted to ship you off on a cruise with a new business contact, and you went to college to study accounting.”

      Amanda felt cold all over. “It was the first fight I ever won, and I’ve still got the scars. But I knew if I didn’t stand up to him then, I never would. It seems that I was the number one contender for Dell Bartlett’s fifth wife. I shiver at the very thought.”

      “So do I, and I’m not even a woman!” Brad muttered.

      She laughed. It changed her face back to the impish, radiant one Brad remembered when she was in her teens. Amanda and her father had never been very close, even after her mother died, leaving Harrison quite a nice inheritance from her family. Yet despite her tyrannical father, Amanda had retained some small part of her mischievous nature over the years. But she’d missed out on a lot of fun. Harrison Todd had guarded his daughter as if she were the crown jewels.

      “You look wicked when you laugh, Amanda,” Brad commented dryly. “Remember that vicious Siamese cat you used to have?”

      “Oh, how could I forget?” She giggled. “He knocked Josh into a prickly pear cactus!”

      “And you spent half an hour with a flashlight and tweezers pulling the spines out of him.” He smiled at her. “He hated being touched. Nobody got near him in those days. That military training made him so aloof. But he let you close enough to undo the damage, and he made you his pet. Now he thinks he owns you.”

      “Not me, buster,” she said, grinning. “I had enough coddling while my father was alive. Besides, Josh is my friend, just as you are. That’s all.”

      Amanda hailed a carriage driver whose horse wore a colorful straw hat. “Take us around Bay Street?” she asked, waving a ten-dollar bill.

      “You bet!” the driver said, giving her a blinding white grin. “Climb aboard!”

      She and Brad slid into the cart and held on as the driver urged the horse into motion. They rode past breathtaking eighteenth-century architecture mingled with high-rise banks and hotels.

      “How’s the job?”

      “Murder!” she exclaimed. “The Todd Gazette was part of my mother’s estate, you know, but Dad put it up as collateral on a loan to buy stock, and he defaulted. He had terrible business sense. Josh says he has an insurance policy that will pay it off, but until I’m twenty-five or married, I have no say in its operation.” She grimaced, thinking about how poorly the operation was presently being managed. She had wanted to tell Josh, but he had been so busy that she couldn’t even get him on the telephone. Aside from needing the rest, she hadn’t argued about this trip since it might afford her the opportunity to make Josh see that she stood to lose her inheritance if he didn’t give her some control over the paper.

      “Your father should have listened to Josh on those stock options,” Brad pointed out. “Josh warned him not to invest in the airline in the first place.”

      “I know. Even though Dad respected Josh’s business sense, he wouldn’t listen that time.” She glanced toward a white jasmine hedge with pure delight, reveling in the smell of it. “There wasn’t really much left to lose. Josh salvaged the good investments, but Dad owed every penny he had. He lived to the very limit of his credit.”

      “And now you resent being left in the lurch.”

      “Of course I do,” she replied. “But brooding won’t solve anything. I have a very nice little cottage all my own in San Antonio and job security. At least,” she added with a rueful smile, “until the Gazette folds. It isn’t doing very well these days.”

      Brad took that in without comment.

      “What I couldn’t do with that job press it’s attached to, given the chance,” she murmured almost to herself. “It’s got such potential.”

      “Josh thinks it’s redundant,” Brad remarked. “He favors shutting it down and retaining the newspaper.”

      “But he’s wrong!” she said fervently. “Brad, it’s only being mismanaged! It’s—”

      He held up a well-manicured hand. “Stop! We’re here to enjoy the scenery and drink in atmosphere.” He closed his eyes and sniffed. “Just smell that sea air! It’s invigorating, isn’t it? No amount of money can buy back clean air and viable land.”

      “I can’t argue with that,” Amanda agreed.

      “This is the life,” Brad murmured lazily. “Sand, sun, and a congenial companion. To hell with business.”

      “Don’t let your brother hear you, or you’re going to be out of a job.”

      “Josh and I are the only two Lawsons left. He couldn’t fire me if he wanted to. I’m a marketing genius.”

      “And so modest!” she commented playfully. “I’m only a working girl, not a self-serving layabout like you!”

      He tried to swipe at her hat, and she ducked, laughing. She gave in gracefully after that, letting herself relax and take in the lazy, lovely atmosphere of Nassau.

      Ted Balmain met the launch at the marina late in the afternoon. If Josh Lawson had a factotum, Ted was it. Indispensable as valet, bodyguard, and general organizer, the tall, swarthy Texan officially was overseer for Opal Cay, one of seven hundred islands in the Bahamian chain.

      “Ted, someday you’re going to be delegated to death,” Brad remarked as he helped Amanda into a seat.

      “That’s what I keep telling Josh,” Ted agreed pleasantly. He cast off the line from the pier and cranked the engine. “Hang on. I feel reckless.”

      “I’ll throw up,” Amanda threatened.

      Ted gave her a teasing glance. “No stomach,” he told Brad. “She’s always going to be a landlubber at heart.”

      “That’s why we went into Nassau. You can forget you’re on an island when you’re browsing down the streets.”

      “It was wonderful,” she agreed. “Thanks, Brad.”

      “My pleasure, squirt. Don’t I always look out for you?”

      Her eyes smiled up at him. “Yes. As usual.”

      “Josh is back,” Ted remarked as he pulled out of the bay.

      Amanda’s heart beat faster. Josh was so vital, so alive, that his very presence started her blood churning. He could put her in a vicious temper with a few terse words and then make her laugh two minutes later.

      Josh was a big brother to both Brad and her. But to everyone else he was “Mr. Lawson,” the man who entertained CEOs and diplomats on his yacht, in his San Antonio manor, and on Opal Cay. He had the ear of money moguls on Wall Street, and he was a millionaire many times over because he took risks that sensible men avoided. Sometimes he pushed the boundaries of ethical conduct, but Amanda was the only one who wasn’t shy about voicing her disapproval.