Escapade. Diana Palmer
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“I’ll do my best, but women love him,” he murmured.
She laughed. “Well, he’s handsome and kind and rich. Why wouldn’t they?”
He didn’t remind her that Brad had gone through two nasty paternity suits over the years. “I’ll educate him,” he promised. “Hopefully this party won’t go on too much longer. We’ve had this Middle East computer deal in the works for weeks, and today they wanted to discuss closing it. But, unfortunately for us, not in Nassau. They had a yen to see the house. Josh didn’t really have much choice, but it must be difficult for you to mingle with all these people right now.”
“Well, I suspected the house would be full. Isn’t it usually like this?” she asked gently. “Josh is always surrounded by business people.”
“In his income bracket, who isn’t?” Ted asked with a chuckle. “Staying rich is demanding. And I don’t need to tell you how many people depend on the company’s solvency.”
“No,” she agreed. “I’m only a guest myself, remember. I don’t expect preferential treatment.”
“All the same, your father just died.”
“Ted, I lost my father a long time before he died,” she said wistfully. “I’m not sure I ever had him in the first place. But I do know that if it hadn’t been for Josh, my life would have been unbearable. When Dad got hard-nosed about things I wanted to do, Josh was my only ally.”
“He thinks highly of you,” Ted had to admit. He glanced over his shoulder. “They’re not going to be here much longer,” he promised. “Then we might have a whole day of peace and quiet. Well, you will,” he amended with a grimace. “Josh has a meeting in Nassau tomorrow and in Jamaica the day after.”
“He needs to delegate more,” she mused.
“He can’t afford to,” he said. “Not on his level. His father did, but he was something of a playboy. In the process, he almost lost the business.”
“Balmain!” an impatient voice roared down the hall. It was deep and commanding, rough with authority and just a hint of a Texas drawl.
“Be right there, Josh!” he called back, flushing a little. Obviously he’d strayed too far.
“You’d better go,” Amanda murmured. “Thanks anyway, but I’m fine. I thought I might walk down on the beach for a few minutes. I need a little peace and quiet, even if that does sound ungrateful.” She leaned forward and glanced toward the elegantly dressed and jeweled women present. “Some of these women smell as if their husbands make a living from selling perfume! I’ve got the most dreadful headache.”
Ted laughed politely, but he hesitated. “Josh won’t like you going alone.”
She stood up, tall and elegant. “Oh, I know that,” she said with a gamine grin. “But I’m going anyway. See you.”
She walked toward the front door, her mind blocking out the sounds, the noise, the smells. Ted grimaced, because he would probably catch hell for this. He turned and, stomach tied in knots, went back to join his boss.
“What kept you?” the elegant blond man asked curtly. His dark eyes were intimidating in a darkly tanned face as sculptured and aesthetically pleasing as a Greek statue.
“Amanda wanted to talk,” Ted said reluctantly. “She’s lonely, I think.”
Joshua Cabe Lawson glanced around him impatiently at the Middle Eastern businessmen and their expensively dressed wives, chattering and laughing and drinking his best imported champagne. He wanted to be rid of the lot of them, so that he could comfort Amanda. He knew it was difficult for her just now. That’s why he’d insisted she come down here. He hoped a rest would help her get over the shock of her father’s death as well as the reality of her financial situation. But it wasn’t working out as he’d planned. He was smothered by business demands that had all seemed to come due at this inconvenient time. And these talks were the one thing he couldn’t postpone.
“I’m almost finished here,” he told Ted Balmain. “Tell her I’ll be along in ten minutes.”
“She, uh, said she wanted to walk on the beach. She has a headache.”
“I’m sure the noise bothers her.” He glared at his guests. He lit a cigar and puffed on it irritably, his blond hair catching the light of the chandelier overhead and burning like gold. He was tall—very tall, with a broad, muscular body that was as powerful looking as if he spent hours a day in a gym.
His thick, dark blond eyebrows collided as he considered that he hadn’t spent five minutes with his houseguest since she’d arrived. Not that she complained. She never did. She was spirited, but she was the least demanding woman he’d ever known. All the same, he felt vaguely guilty.
“Start hiding liquor bottles,” he told Ted. “And jerk Brad away from that terminal fascination in the corner and tell him I want to talk to him. Now.”
Ted whispered something to Brad, who quickly excused himself to join his brother.
The difference between the two brothers was striking: one blond and tan and handsome, the other a little shorter with brown hair. But both had dark eyes, and their builds were equally strong.
Brad held up his hand and grinned before Josh could speak. “I know I’m risking assorted body parts, but isn’t she a little dish? She speaks French and likes to go riding on her father’s Arabians, and she thinks that men are perfection itself!” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Josh was amused, but only briefly. “She’s engaged to one of the Rothschilds, and her father has an army.”
Brad shrugged. “Easy come, easy go. What do you want?”
“Wrap this up,” he said, jerking his head toward the balding sheik he’d been talking to all day. “Tell him the last price I quoted him is rock bottom. He can take it or go home and dust his camels. I haven’t got the time to bargain any further.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Brad asked. “This is an important market.”
“I know it. So does he. But I’m not going to sacrifice my profits. There are other marketing avenues open to us. Remind him.”
Brad chuckled. He loved watching his older brother in action. “I’ll make your wishes known. Anything else?”
“Yes. Get Morrison on the phone. Tell him I’ll want him to fax me those last cost estimates for Anders’s new operation in Montego Bay by midnight. I don’t care if he’s not through,” he interrupted when Brad started to speak. “I want what he’s got by midnight.”
“You got it,” the younger man said with a sigh, his mind drifting away to a disturbing phone call he’d made before coming downstairs. His worries were playing on his mind, but he couldn’t afford to let his brother find out what they were. At least not yet. He forced his attention back to Josh.
The older man misread his expression. He narrowed his dark eyes and smiled sardonically. “You think I’m a tyrant, don’t you, Brad? But business is best left to pirates, and we’ve got two in our ancestry. Cut and thrust is the only way.”
“As long as you’re sure the other guy isn’t wearing plate armor,” Brad reminded him.
“Point taken. I’ll be on the beach with Amanda. How is she?”
“Putting up a good front, as usual,” Brad said. “She’s hurting. Harrison wasn’t much of a businessman and less of a father. Still, blood is blood.”
“Maybe she’s mourning what Harrison never could give her—a father’s love.”
“When I have kids,” Brad said firmly, “they may not get much else, but they’ll get that.”
Josh turned away abruptly. “I’ll be on the beach.” He nodded politely to the