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time, anyway.” He checked his watch again. “I’ll try to be back in time for dinner.”
    “I haven’t seen you for thirty minutes at a stretch since I’ve been here. And I really do have to think about getting back to San Antonio.”
    “It’s only a week since the funeral,” he said. “Stay a while longer. Why not fly over to Jamaica wit h me tomorrow? I’ll make sure I have time for you.”
    “Don’t strain yourself,” she said, annoyed at his patronizing one.
    “Don’t worry. I won’t,” he said with a pleasant smile.
    She threw up her hands. “Every time I’m around you, I feel as if I’ve been dragg ed backward through a hedge.” His face seemed faintly troubled. He touched her hair again, but this time he drew his hand away at o nce. He searched her eyes intentl y and held them until her heart ran away.
    “I’m not a child, Josh,” she said huskily.
    “You aren’t superficial, either,” he replied. “You’re as deep as the ocean, as enigmatic as a budding rose in a briar patch. I admire your values as much as I admire your spirit. I could never soil that.”
    “You pirate,” she accused softly. “You’re as old- fashioned as I am.”
    He nodded slowly. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said with a half smile, and started walking again. “I’d hate to ruin my image.”

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER
    FOUR
     
    B rad didn’t go to Nassau. Josh went himself. But that evening at dinner, Josh did ask his brother to travel to Montego Bay.
    “All right,” Brad said pleasantly. “I’ll go to Jamaica for you. But I do need to be back in San Antonio by the end of the week. I’ve got a prospective client to court, an aerospace executive.”
    Amanda caught the flicker in Brad’s eyes that Josh missed. Perhaps she simply knew him better, but his reason for going home to Texas didn’t sound completely honest.
    “Suit yourself, as long as you hold up your end,” Josh replied. “I have to admit that you’ve made some startling gains in new territory this year.”
    Brad fingered his wineglass and didn’t look up. “Enough for a raise?”
    “You still owe me six months’ salary,” Josh reminded him. “And you’re paying off a hell of a loan.”
    Brad’s dark eyes flashed in anger at his brother. “Go ahead. Rub it in. So I lost. But sometimes I win. When I do, I win big!”
    “Nobody wins at a gambling house,” Josh said coldly. “It’s a narcotic. You’re addicted, but you won’t admit it.”
    Brad tossed down his napkin and got to his feet. “I’ll take the Lear jet to Mo’ Bay in the morning. When I’ve finished there, I’m going home.” He dared his brother to argue.
    Josh didn’t. He simply stared at the younger man ending that argument. Brad glanced at Amanda with a strained smile and left the room.
    “You ride him hard,” she told Josh.
    “Try the quenelles,” he said, ignoring her comment. “They’re delicious.”
    “He’s your brother.”
    “That’s why I want him to wake up, before he squanders his inheritance and ruins his life.”
    “You can’t drag him into some clinic, Josh,” she persisted. “He’s not a chair that you can send off to be reupholstered.”
    He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t want to start this tonight,” he said firmly, a faint threat in his voice.
    She wasn’t going to change his mind. As usual, it was already solidifying as quickly as concrete. She lifted her fork to her mouth. He was right: the quenelles were delicious.
     
     
    W hile a taciturn, uncommunicative Brad flew to Jamaica, Josh took Amanda out in the launch to another island, an uninhabited one near Opal Cay.
    “You yourself said that I needed some time off,” he reminded her when she seemed surprised at his choice of location. “Harriet packed us a delicious picnic lunch and a bottle of wine.”
    She smiled. The prospect of an entire day with Josh was devastating to her senses. Heaven.
    Josh dropped the anchor and they disembarked. It was autumn back in San