“I own this island and everything on it, babe. Including, at the moment, you.”
Two
Her eyes went wide and horrified and Gabe wasn’t ashamed to admit, at least to himself, that he was enjoying this. He could almost see her thoughts flashing through her mind as her features shifted from amazed to confused to fury all in the blink of an eye.
Of course, being Debbie Harris, it didn’t take her long to erupt.
“Are you nuts?”
He laughed shortly. “Is that any way to talk to your jailer?”
She stepped back from the bars and stared at him as though she’d never seen him before. Shaking her head, she whispered, “You can’t be serious about keeping me locked up like this.”
But he was.
Gabe hadn’t seen Debbie in ten years and he hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he hadn’t given her much thought in all that time. At least, he admitted, not until she and her girlfriends had shown up here on his island.
And from the moment he’d seen her, all he’d been able to think about was Deb. Irritating as hell, but there it was. He wasn’t a man to be led around by his hormones and it was lowering to admit even to himself just how much he wanted her. After all, he had a life. A plan. And she had no part in any of it. And yet…
He let his gaze sweep over the bars of the cell before sliding back to her. “Looks like I’m serious to me.”
She still looked damn good. The cute girl she’d been ten years ago had become a gorgeous woman. Her curves were lush, her long blond hair lay in soft waves down to the center of her back and her tanned skin was the color of warm honey.
He remembered the feel of her, the taste of her and as something like hunger surged through him, Gabe had to admit that keeping her here had probably been a mistake. Damn it, he could have been rid of her. She’d been at the airfield, leaving, walking out of his life again, yet when he’d been handed the opportunity—he’d had her stopped.
He still wasn’t sure why, exactly.
“What kind of game are you playing?” Her voice was just a hiss of fury.
“No game,” he said tightly. That much was true at least.
“Of course it’s a game,” Debbie countered. “Your guy at the airport said there was a problem with my passport. We both know that’s a lie.”
“Not a lie. Usually, it’s a ruse. Something the guards tell a suspect to keep them calm while they’re being transported here.”
“A suspect?” She shrieked that last word and then stopped, looked at him hard and said, “What do you mean usually?”
Gabe wandered the jail area, looking around as if inspecting the cells to make sure they were just as they should be. “It seems,” he said quietly, idly, as if he couldn’t be less interested himself, “there’s a jewel thief working the resorts in this area.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
He smiled and let his gaze slide up and down her body before spearing into hers again. “This particular thief is about five foot four, long blond hair, blue eyes…”
She swallowed hard, shook her head and said, “You can’t possibly believe I’m a jewel thief.”
No. He didn’t. But when the notice from the British authorities had crossed his desk, he’d looked at it like a gift. Stupid. He couldn’t afford to have her here. Especially now.
But he hadn’t wanted her to leave, either.
One shoulder lifted in a lazy shrug. “You do fit the description.”
“So do a lot of people.”
“Yes,” he said, smiling again. “But you’re here. On the island. And we were asked to keep an eye out for a woman matching that description and detain her if necessary.”
“Detain,” she repeated, her voice sounding a little hollow. “Here? In jail?”
“If you’re innocent,” he started to say.
“If?”
“If you’re innocent,” he said again, “I’m sure this will be cleared up in a few days.”
“Days?”
“Is there an echo in here?” he wondered out loud, hiding his amusement. “You’ll stay as a guest of Fantasies until the authorities have been notified and proper steps are taken.”
“What steps?”
He shrugged again and stared directly into her wide, scared eyes. “Fingerprinting, no doubt. You’ll have to be investigated.”
“You’re kidding me. You don’t seriously believe—” She moved up to the cell bars, grabbed hold of two of them and squeezed hard. “Gabe, you know I’m not a thief.”
“No, I don’t,” he said reasonably, enjoying the heat of her temper. God, arguing with Deb had always been fun. “For all I know, you are this master thief the British authorities are looking for.”
“British?”
He shrugged. “Apparently the thief ran through several estates in England before moving on to the island resort towns.”
“I’ve never been to England,” she argued.
Gabe smiled and turned to face her. “And I’m supposed to take your word for that?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I can’t risk allowing a wanted criminal to escape the island.”
“Oh, for—”
“So,” Gabe said, walking toward her again with slow, measured steps, “until we get this straightened out, you’ll be staying right here at Fantasies.”
“You can’t keep me here, Gabe.” She stopped dead at the far end of the cell and glared at him.
“You’re wrong about that.”
She gaped at him and started pacing again.
He leaned one shoulder against the cold, steel bars and watched her as she stalked the confines of her cell. The heels of her sandals clicked frantically against the cement floor and the look she shot him should have fried him on the spot.
“I’m not guilty of anything and you can’t hold me here against my will.”
“I can do whatever I want to, Deb. This is my island. I make the rules.”
“There are laws about kidnapping.”
He chuckled. “Nobody kidnapped you.”
She gritted her teeth, hissed in a breath and then spoke in a deliberately patient tone. “You can’t just hold a person in jail because you feel like it.”
He smiled, waved one hand to encompass the tidy jail cell and said, “Clearly, I can.”
Sighing, she slid one hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “What’s really going on here, Gabe? We both know I’m not this jewel thief, so why’re you really doing this to me?”
There were too many reasons, he thought, and scowled as the humor he’d found in the situation moments ago drained away. He didn’t owe her any more of an explanation than the one he’d given her. He had the right to hold her on the island until the authorities notified him otherwise. Still, if he kept her around for too long, things could get sticky.
He pushed away from the bars, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and said, “We can talk about this later.”
“No, there is no later. I have a plane to catch.”
“Actually,