With a mental snarl, she fl ung herself into the car, keyed the ignition, and tore out of the parking lot. None of that was going to change tonight, and there was nothing wrong with a little company to take her mind off what bothered her.

❖

Nita was restless. For the fi rst day in a week and a half, she hadn’t worked. Tory had insisted she take the weekend off. Feeling at loose ends all day, she’d been painfully reminded of just how little connection she had established in her new community, and how much she had allowed work to take the place of pleasure in her life. Determined to change that, she’d walked through town to her new house, and the sun and the enthusiasm of the crowds and the breathtaking glimpses of the harbor that teased her through the narrow alleyways between buildings had banished some of her discontent.

Once at the house, she’d immediately lost herself in the excitement of imagining how it would look when it was restored. Even when she realized she was making mental notes of things she wanted to discuss with Deo, far from being derailed, her anticipation grew. Buoyed by the uncharacteristic surge of happiness, she extracted the estimate from the manila envelope she had left lying on the counter in the kitchen the day before and impulsively dialed the phone number on the report. She got an answering machine, which was what she expected, and left a message accepting the proposal.

• 135 •

RADCLY fFE

Now, ten hours later, she wondered if she’d made a mistake encouraging a situation where she’d see Deo regularly. Especially, she thought with a whisper of chagrin, after the night before. She had been so keyed up, so physically agitated, she’d fi nally relented and made herself come. It hadn’t taken much, either time, just a few long fi rm strokes and a little teasing pressure and the orgasms burst inside her like a rocket fl air, brilliant and bright. And as she moaned and twisted, she’d felt Deo’s hot breath against her skin.

Nita twitched and stared at the book in her lap. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting in her living room, replaying the events of the day. Urgency coiled in her depths and she knew she was wet. She needed a diversion or she was going to have to masturbate, and she feared anything she could do was not going to be enough to satisfy. She had hoped to smother the consuming need she had to take and be taken by denying it, but instead, she’d only stoked the fury.

“Enough,” she muttered, surging to her feet. She needed to hear voices other than those in her head or she was going to go crazy. She’d walk, even though walking was not what her body craved.

❖

Deo pushed the whiskey glass back and forth on the bar in a slow half circle, back and forth, back and forth, replaying the message in her mind.

“Deo, hello. It’s Nita Burgoyne. I’ve decided to accept your proposal. Call me and let me know when you can get started.”

She’d rewound the tape and played it fi ve or six times in succession, feeling foolish as her belly churned and heated at the sound of Nita’s voice. Mentally, she edited the tape. “Deo, it’s Nita. Call me.”

“Pathetic,” Deo muttered. She had never mooned over a woman this way, not even when she was a teenager. She’d always had plenty of interest in sex, but there was never anyone she had to have. Never anyone whose voice she hungered to hear on the phone or whose face she desperately sought in the crowd.

At sixteen, she had just been fi guring out that she wanted girls, and only girls. By seventeen, she had kissed more than a few and managed a couple of fast fumbles under the pier, and then her life had blown apart. Literally. And then all she wanted was to forget. Quick

• 136 •

Winds of Fortune

couplings in the dark, lots of them, had worked for a while. If it hadn’t been for Pia standing by her, and Pia’s parents giving her a place to live until she could manage on her own, she might not have made it.

Eventually, she’d worn the edge off her pain and wounded rage and, by eighteen, had settled into a rhythm of one night stands and friendly but emotionless encounters. When her father, at her mother’s insistence, had offered to help her get started in business, she had wanted to refuse.

But Pia had urged her to accept for the sake of their families.

Hasn’t everyone suffered enough? Pia had said, and Deo swallowed her pride and accepted his help and within two years had paid back every penny. Now they had an uneasy truce. She didn’t spend much time around him, and if he started drinking, she left before his festering anger bubbled to the surface.

Her life worked, even if now and then she had the uneasy sense there should be more. Then Nita came along and disrupted the pattern she’d gotten used to. At fi rst meeting, she’d responded to Nita with her hormones, just as she always did, and Nita’s automatic dismissal had been a pleasant challenge. But it wasn’t the challenge of conquest that kept her interested. Every time they were together, even for a few minutes, she caught glimpses of the deep passion and pain that Nita struggled to hide. Those emotions she knew something about, and that’s what intrigued her most of all.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Allie purred, wrapping her arms around Deo’s neck and pressing up against her back. She kissed her ear. “How you doing?”

Deo shifted on the bar stool and kissed Allie lightly on the mouth.

“Not bad. You?”

“I’m better now.” Allie skimmed her hand down Deo’s back and curled her fi ngers beneath the waistband of Deo’s jeans. Then she leaned over the bar and waved at the bartender. “Georgia, honey! Please give me a beer before I die.”

“Rough day?” Deo asked.

“Rough week.” Allie twisted sideways in the narrow space between Deo’s stool and the occupied one next to it and snuggled her crotch against Deo’s thigh. “We’re shorthanded. Tourist season. The usual. The chief is doing okay, though.”

“That’s great.” Deo tipped the contents of her glass down her throat and then held out the empty toward the bartender, who slid a

• 137 •

RADCLY fFE

sweating bottle of Molson’s across the bar to Allie. “Fill me up.”

“So,” Allie said after taking a swallow of her beer. “I could really get into fucking for the rest of the night. Interested?”

Grinning ruefully, Deo wrapped both arms around Allie’s waist and leaned her forehead against Allie’s. No excuses. No lies. Not with her. “I don’t think I’m there tonight, babe.”

Allie leaned back, her pelvis still pressed to Deo’s leg, and regarded her with a frown. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” Deo shrugged. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

“You know, there’s nothing like a really good fuck to make you forget all the shit in your life.” As she spoke, Allie worked her hand up the inside of Deo’s thigh and cupped her crotch. Unerringly, she pressed her thumb against the base of Deo’s clit and circled slowly.

“And you know it will be good.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Deo stiffened all over as her clit went rigid. “It’s already good.”

Watching Deo’s face, Allie eased up a little. “It’s not really what you want, though, is it?”

“Allie,” Deo whispered.

“I know what you look like when it’s what you need.” Allie patted Deo’s crotch and kissed her. Then she removed her hand. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Sure.” Allie glanced around the crowded room. “I might still get that fuck tonight, or I might just go home and sleep. Either way, we’re good.”

Deo drained her whiskey, kissed Allie’s cheek, and slid off the stool. “Thanks.”

Almost to the door, Deo saw Nita standing off to one side in the shadows and worked her way over to her.

“I got your message about the job,” Deo said.

“Good.”

“I’ll give you a call Monday afternoon or Tuesday with a work schedule.”

“Fine.”

Deo frowned at Nita’s icy tone. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Deo’s head hurt and her crotch ached. Her patience was nonexistent.

• 138 •

Winds of Fortune

“Damn it, Nita, if you’re pissed off at someone, don’t take it out on me.”

“You ought to be in a better mood seeing as your girlfriend just gave you a hand job at the bar,” Nita said acerbically. She couldn’t believe she’d let Deo get into her head the way she had when Deo clearly had nothing more on her mind than a quick fuck.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Deo snapped, “but she isn’t.

And she didn’t.”

Before Nita could reply, Deo turned on her heel and stormed out the door.

“Good,” Nita muttered to herself. “Go.”

Then, before her judgment could overrule her instincts, she slammed her beer bottle down on the nearest table and hurried after her.

Her anger and self-loathing weren’t Deo’s fault and never had been.

“Deo!”

Deo didn’t stop but abruptly cut across a small parking lot to an adjacent street that was little more than an alleyway. Nita caught up to her halfway up the dark narrow passageway and grabbed her shoulder from behind. “Deo.”

Deo spun around. “What do you want?”

No street lights. Only moonlight. Deo’s face was all sharp planes and secret shadows. Her voice was harsh and undercut with pain. Nita grasped her muscular upper arms, pushed her back against a shoulder high stone wall, and drove her body against Deo’s.

“This.” Nita thrust her tongue into Deo’s mouth and was instantly swallowed by the heat. She moaned at her fi rst taste of Deo—whiskey and wanting and danger. Deo’s breasts were a tauntingly soft counterpoint to her hard stomach and thighs. God, Nita could barely breathe she was so hungry for her. She sucked Deo’s tongue and frantically rubbed her crotch into Deo’s.

Blindsided, Deo reacted by instinct. She grabbed Nita’s ass and dug her fi ngers in, urging Nita to pump faster between her spread thighs.