hours?’
‘When I have to.’ He shrugged. ‘Otherwise I’d like nothing better than to join you and Mom for dinner.’ His eyes held hers with deliberate provocation. ‘I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been doing with yourself. Apart from nearly killing yourself, that is.’
Megan shook her head. ‘It was hardly that.’
‘I heard it was,’ he contradicted her gently. ‘Is that why you’re so edgy? Or is it just me?’
Megan coloured then. She couldn’t help it. She could feel the heat spreading up her neck, darkening the exposed hollow of her throat, and seeping into her hairline.
‘I’m not edgy,’ she denied, producing a smile that probably gave her words the lie. ‘I’m tired, I suppose, but that’s understandable. It’s been a long day.’
‘Yeah, I guess it has,’ he said, his tone softening. He lifted one hand and to her dismay he rubbed his knuckles along the curve of her jawline. ‘You’ll feel better in the morning. All you need is a good night’s sleep.’
Megan drew her chin back automatically. His warm knuckles were absurdly sensual, hinting at an intimacy she couldn’t begin to cope with.
She didn’t say anything, but she knew he was aware of her withdrawal. His hand fell to his side, and his eyes narrowed on the way her chest rose and fell in a nervous display.
‘Relax,’ he said. ‘What are you afraid of? I’m not going to hurt you.’
‘I never—I don’t know what you mean—’
Megan stumbled to deny his mocking accusation, but before she could get coherency into her words Anita’s voice interrupted them.
‘I’m sorry, Megan—’ she was saying as she came into the room, before breaking off in some surprise when she saw her son. ‘Why, Remy!’ she exclaimed, not without some asperity. ‘I thought you were leaving half an hour ago.’
There was an awkward pause, when Megan wondered if what had gone before was visible on their faces, and then Remy seemed to find his voice. ‘Well, as you can see, I’m still here,’ he remarked tersely. ‘I wasn’t aware I had to report my whereabouts to you.’
Anita flushed, as stung by his words in her turn as Megan had been earlier. ‘You don’t, of course,’ she said. ‘But I could have done with your assistance. The air-conditioning went out in one of the bungalows, and I couldn’t get in touch with Carlos.’
‘Have you fixed it?’
Remy was slightly less aggressive now, and his mother took a steadying breath. ‘At last,’ she said. ‘It was only a fuse, thank goodness. But—but—your grandfather’s rather fractious this evening, and I didn’t really have the time to go charging about looking for spares.’
‘I’m sorry.’
There was still an edge to Remy’s voice, and, realising she should say something in his defence, Megan chipped in. ‘Um—Remy’s been keeping me company, I’m afraid,’ she said apologetically. ‘I probably delayed him, or he would have been gone.’
Anita managed a faint smile. ‘Don’t give it another thought. Either of you,’ she added, looking at her son. ‘I’m sorry if I sounded harassed. It’s just one of the joys of running a hotel.’
Remy straightened his spine. ‘Then I guess I will get going.’ He looked at Megan. ‘Now that you’ve got my mother to entertain you, you won’t need me any more. Enjoy your evening, won’t you? I’ll think of you while I’m earning my lonely crust.’
‘Oh, don’t be silly, Remy.’ Anita evidently thought her son’s manner was due to what she’d said, but Megan wasn’t so sure. ‘Naturally, if I’d thought you had the time to stay and have a drink with us, I’d have suggested it. It was you who said you had work to do this evening.’
‘And I do,’ said Remy flatly, arching a mocking brow in Megan’s direction. ‘I’ll see you—both—later, though maybe not tomorrow. I’ve got to go to the Beaufort plantation in the afternoon.’
‘All right, darling.’ Reassured, Anita gave her son’s arm a squeeze. ‘Give my love to Rachel when you see her, won’t you? Tell her it’s been far too long since she’s come to visit.’
MEGAN slept fitfully, even though she was tired, waking the next morning before it was really light. Even the lingering effects of her illness were not enough to counter her body’s rhythms. It was obvious her system was still running on London time.
She lay for a little while mulling over the events of the previous evening. She knew now that Anita’s invitation had not been as spontaneous as it had at first appeared. Oh, her stepsister was pleased to see her, and she had been concerned when she’d learned Megan had had an operation. But she had had another reason altogether for making the call that had brought her stepsister to San Felipe.
Not that Megan had learned that immediately.
After Remy’s departure, they had both felt the need to get their relationship back on an even footing, and while Anita had a martini, and during the course of their dinner—which was taken on the candlelit terrace—they had talked about less personal things.
Then, at Anita’s instigation, Megan had told her how she had come to be in the hospital. Her stepsister had seemed to find it incredible that Megan should have developed an ulcer at her age. She didn’t seem to understand the stresses and strains involved in trying to start a business, and Megan had been loath to tell her that the specialist had intimated that she might have had the ulcer since she was in her teens.
‘And are your rooms comfortable?’ Anita asked at last, clearly eager that Megan should have every opportunity to relax while she was here.
‘They’re perfect,’ Megan assured her. ‘I just don’t think I should be taking up such luxurious apartments. This must be the busiest time of the year for you.’
‘You’re family. Where else would I put you?’ Anita retorted firmly. ‘And it’s not as if you haven’t always been welcome. I told you when—when your mother died that you had an open invitation. Any time you’d wanted to come for a visit, you had only to pick up the phone.’
Right. Megan nodded politely, wondering somewhat cynically how often she had said those same words herself. In business, people often offered hospitality without meaning it. And contacting the Robards had never been on her list of priorities.
‘Anyway,’ went on Anita, as if sensing the other woman’s reservations, ‘you’re here now, and that’s what matters.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I bet you were surprised to see Remy at the airport. He told me that you thought he was some toy-boy trying to pick you up.’
Hardly that, thought Megan indignantly, feeling somewhat hurt that Anita should feel the need to tell her exactly what Remy had said. Besides, it was not what he had said to her, though perhaps his assertion that they could meet on equal terms had been meant to flatter her, after all.
‘I didn’t recognise him,’ she admitted, and Anita gave a short laugh.
