The Borrowed Ring

“That's what I've been telling him,” Ingrid said eagerly. “Just because he doesn't like country music, he thinks no one else does either.”

“You must understand that Mrs. Andreas is from Texas, Ingrid. Musical tastes are a bit…different there.”

“But appreciation for a beautiful, talented woman is universal,” Daniel inserted smoothly, giving Ingrid a smile. “I, too, would enjoy hearing you sing…being from Texas myself.”

The reproof was subtle but definitely there. Daniel had just made it clear that he would tolerate no insult—not even an implied one—against his wife.

Whatever the connection or power structure between Daniel and Drake, the latter backed off with a nod. “Of course. Ingrid, perhaps you'll work up a number with the band at the Seaside Lounge for tomorrow evening.”

“I'd like that,” Ingrid all but purred.

Still smiling with gritted teeth showing, Drake reached for his wineglass, giving B.J. a long look over the rim.

“I think you've made a new friend for life,” Daniel commented later. “Ingrid practically kissed your hand when we parted.”

Remembering the look in Drake's eyes when he had bade her good-night, B.J. swallowed. “I think I made an enemy, as well. Creepy Guy obviously doesn't like it when women challenge him. He was annoyed enough already that I didn't swoon every time he gave me one of his oily smiles.”

The moon was full as they walked on the beach, providing them plenty of illumination. Yet B.J. was unable to read Daniel's expression. “Don't worry about Drake. There's a good chance we'll be out of here by this time tomorrow and you'll never have to see him again.”

She wondered if she would ever see Daniel again after they left here. “We're leaving tomorrow?”

“I said there's a good chance. It depends on a couple of developments.”

“What sort of developments?”

She didn't really expect him to answer, and he didn't. Instead he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Is that better?”

She hadn't realized she was chilly until she felt the warmth of his jacket on her bare arms. The soft fabric smelled like

Daniel, she realized as she drew the jacket more tightly against the cool ocean breeze. The scent was subtle, spicy, somewhat mysterious. A fanciful woman might have believed it carried just a hint of danger.

B.J. was trying very hard not to be fanciful tonight. “Thank you.”

The moon hung low in the sky behind him, making his shirt gleam almost ghostly white but throwing his face into deep shadows. “You're welcome.”

The walk had been Daniel's suggestion. She suspected he wanted to establish a pattern, making it look as though strolls on the beach were commonplace for her-probably to further weaken any curiosity about her trek that morning.

She doubted that he was deliberately procrastinating about returning to the suite. Despite his joke earlier, Daniel had no reason to be concerned about them being alone for another night.

She was the one who had to fret about fighting an unwelcome attraction. Impulses that could lead her into a world of trouble if she gave into them. An infatuation that had begun rather innocently more than a dozen years ago and was now complicated by wholly adult lust.

Despite his outrageous flirting with her earlier—which, she had no doubt, had been intended as an effective way to distract her from inconvenient questions—she didn't believe for a minute that Daniel worried about losing control of his impulses if they spent too much time alone together. For one thing, she couldn't believe that Daniel ever lost control.

They weren't the only ones out on this beautiful evening, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. Most of the others were couples wrapped up in each other, staying as far away as possible from anyone else. Yet B.J. had the uncomfortable sensation that she and Daniel were being spied upon anyway. The fact that she couldn't spot the watchers made the suspicion even more unsettling.

Daniel draped an arm loosely around her shoulders, pulling her close enough to walk comfortably beside him yet still allow them to converse in very low voices. She knew better than to read anything personal into his action. She wasn't the only one aware of unseen observers.

“You never told me why you came looking for me in Missouri,” he said from out of the blue.

“Sure I did.”

“No. I'd have remembered.”

She thought back over the past couple of days with him-and realized that he was right. She had never actually gotten around to telling him the reason she had tracked him down. “I guess I've been sort of…distracted.”

“Understandable. So…?”

“I came to invite you to a party.”