LITMIR.BIZ

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Adriana’s bored. At least she supposed it was boredom. Adriana was always perfectly made-up, her dark hair swept back from her strong-featured face, her clothing a perfect example of retrained elegance.

      Jonathan leaned toward her, pixie face warm. He must be a good ten years older than Trent, but he had a perennially youthful air. His interest in everything about everyone balanced Adriana’s coolness.

      “Has it been a bad year?” He grimaced. “Of course it has. Scratch that question, sugar. Tell us what you’ve been doing.”

      An account of her recent life shouldn’t have lasted through the serving of the she-crab soup, but Jonathan managed to spin it out through the main course with questions and comments.

      Sarah was still wondering how she could tactfully introduce the subject she wanted when the talk turned to island society, and Jonathan said Lynette’s name at last.

      “Everyone misses Lynette.” Adriana’s spoon chinked against the china cup. Candlelight cast shadows across her face. “I’m not sure I even want to have our party this year.”

      “Of course we will.” Was that an edge in Jonathan’s voice? His black eyes bored into his wife, and Sarah had a sense of meaning under the words. “Our party always kicks off the summer. Everyone will be disappointed if we cancel.”

      “Not everyone.” Adriana toyed with her spoon. “Trent’s turned into such a recluse, he probably won’t come anyway.”

      “A recluse?” Adriana’s comment seemed to bring Trent’s frowning presence to the table.

      Jonathan’s eyes darkened. “I wouldn’t call it that. After what happened, naturally he didn’t go out much.”

      “I hear he’s neglecting the business.” Adriana’s brows lifted. “Escaping on his boat and letting his brother run things.”

      “I’m sure Derek’s not taking on anything important,” Jonathan said. “He’s not a heavyweight at business.”

      Adriana shrugged, dismissing Trent’s brother. “The way Trent’s acting, anyone would think he and Lynette had been devoted to each other, instead of fighting all the time.”

      “I hadn’t realized they were having problems.” She’d seldom seen Trent and Lynette, but she’d been busy with her work. Or maybe she hadn’t cared enough.

      “I don’t suppose you knew Lynette well.” Adriana’s tone implied that Lynette would hardly have chosen her for a friend.

      “No, I didn’t. But obviously people think my husband did.” Sarah put the blunt statement out and waited for a response.

      Jonathan shook his head, looking shocked at her frankness. “I’m sure no one believes—”

      “Don’t be stupid, Jonathan.” Adriana sounded scornful. “That’s what everyone thinks. What other explanation is there?”

      Adriana didn’t care whether she hurt your feelings, but she was privy to gossip that Sarah would never hear. Gossip that she now needed to hear if she wanted to uncover the truth.

      “Did people suspect they were involved before the accident, or just afterward?” She ignored the pain.

      “Well, I heard—”

      Jonathan’s hand closed over his wife’s. “Please, Adriana. Let’s not repeat gossip. It can only be hurtful.”

      “I’d rather hear it than wonder what people are saying behind my back.”

      He shook his head, and under the sympathy in his face she saw determination. Jonathan didn’t want her to hear the talk. Was his concern based on his ideas of what constituted polite conversation, or was there really something out there he thought too painful for her to hear?

      “Both you and Trent lost a great deal.” He patted her hand sympathetically. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

      She didn’t agree, but she subsided. She’d probably pushed as much as she could for the moment.

      At least she’d learned something. Jonathan wouldn’t talk, but Adriana would. She had to find a way of seeing her alone.

      She slid her chair back. “Please excuse me. I’m afraid I’m exhausted from the trip. Maybe we can get together again soon.” She stood, looking at Adriana as she said the words, and thought she saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes.

      “Oh, honey, of course.” Jonathan got up. “Don’t you forget now, we’re here if you need anything.”

      Anything but the truth. Well, she could get around that. Trent might think he could stop her, but people would talk. No matter how painful, that was better than silence.

      She walked into the lobby feeling more hopeful than she had an hour earlier. But it didn’t last. The lobby now held something that hadn’t been there before—her luggage stood forlornly against the desk.

      The manager wore an expression of mixed embarrassment and determination. “I’m sorry, Dr. Wainwright. I’m afraid we have to ask you to vacate your room.”

      Sarah stared at him, her mind as blank as she knew her face must be. “What on earth are you talking about?”

      He shuffled a sheaf of computer printouts on the desktop. “This is very embarrassing.” He looked everywhere but at her. “The entire inn is booked for a business meeting.”

      Cold rage stiffened her spine. “Let me guess. This business meeting…It wouldn’t be Donner Enterprises, would it?”

      “There’ll be no charge for the room, of course, or for your dinner.” He attempted a smile, fastening his gaze somewhere over her head. “Maybe you’ll come back another time.”

      “And if I did? Would you find the inn full again?”

      For a moment his eyes met hers and he was a human being, instead of Trent Donner’s tool. “I’m sorry.” He spread his hands out helplessly. “There’s nothing I can do.”

      “Sarah?”

      She turned, realizing that Jonathan and Adriana had come out of the dining room. Jonathan stared at her bags.

      “You’re not leaving already, are you? You just got here.”

      “Not willingly. The manager has suddenly discovered that all the rooms have been booked by Trent’s company. In other words, Trent is having me evicted.”

      She probably shouldn’t be so blunt. They were Trent’s friends. She couldn’t expect them to side with her.

      Jonathan turned on the manager. “Dunphries, you can’t ask Dr. Wainwright to leave at this hour of the night.”

      The man reddened. “I don’t have a choice.”

      “You mean you’re afraid to make one.” Jonathan’s black eyes snapped. “Donner provides a lot of your business.”

      “It’s not his fault.” She remembered Trent’s stinging accusation. “I was naive not to expect it. I’ll go elsewhere.”

      The manager cleared his throat. “I understand Mr. Donner booked all the rooms on the island for this business meeting.”

      She’d underestimated Trent. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. “It looks as if I’ll be sleeping on the beach tonight.”

      “Don’t be silly.” Adriana’s entry into the conversation startled Sarah. “You can stay in our guesthouse.”

      Sarah could only hope her mouth didn’t gape. Adriana had barely spoken two sentences to her in the time she’d been on the island. Why on earth was she extending an invitation now?

      Jonathan smiled. “Of course. That’s the perfect solution.” He reached for Sarah’s bags. “Come on. You’re coming home with us.”

      “Trent

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