She turned briskly away from the phone. She'd have to close up the cottage and pack tonight. Tomorrow on the way to the airport she would stop at the bank and take out a sizeable amount of money and put it into traveler's checks. The situation in Mariba sounded weird in the extreme. Those papers Dane's jailers wanted her to sign very likely would have a high price tag, if everything she had heard about the government of Castellano were true.

"I think we're going in the wrong direction," Serena repeated, leaning forward to tap the taxi driver on the shoulder. "Perhaps you didn't understand me, it's the Cartagena Hotel and I'm sure we passed it five minutes ago. I saw a sign-" "Si, the Hotel Cartagena." The driver smiled over his shoulder, his white teeth gleaming below his wide black mustache. "We are going in the right direction. You will see." The cab suddenly leaped forward as he pressed the accelerator. "I will get you there pretty damn quick."

"Not too quick," Serena said dryly as she leaned back in the seat. "I'd prefer to get there in one piece." Maybe there were two Hotel Cartagenas. It didn't seem likely in a town the size of Mariba, but the driver seemed very sure there was no mistake.

She opened her soft leather bag, took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at her forehead. Heavens, it was hot. She would have to pick a taxi with no air conditioning. Not that she'd had much choice. There had only been two taxis available at the taxi stand at the airport, and she supposed she should be grateful to get transportation at all. Castellano's raffish reputation didn't foster it as a tourist spot, and she had seen larger private airports in the States.

Maybe she had been the one making the mistake. She had seen Mariba only at night and the town seemed totally unfamiliar to her in daylight, and there was no question she had been tense and on edge since the moment the small propeller plane had landed. It was idiotic to be so nervous, she assured herself. She would sign the papers, pay the bribe, and she and Dane would be off this island tomorrow.

"Right ahead," the driver said cheerfully. "I told you it would be pretty damn…" He trailed off as he stopped before a wrought-iron gate and blew the horn. The gates began to swing open slowly. "Electric. Pretty damn neat, huh?"

"Very neat." Serena's lips curved in amusement. Modern technology had evidently come even to Castellano. In this case, efficiency had not been allowed to interfere with the exquisite workmanship of the gates. They closed behind them with a quiet swoosh and the taxi started up the tree- lined drive.

The gardens of the hotel were really lovely. Beautifully manicured lawns unfolded before her like a bolt of emerald velvet, orderly beds of tropical flowers bloomed with vivid color, and Jasmine trees were bowed with fragrant white blossoms. If the hotel was as beautiful as its grounds, Dane must be very comfortable…

She drew in her breath so sharply it made her dizzy. They had rounded the curve and a two- story house stood before them. Red tiled roof, gleaming white stucco walls, a fountain spraying sparkling water set in a patio. It was all crazily familiar. A dog should be barking, she thought half hysterically. It should be dark, not daylight and Frank should be running…

"We are here." The driver drove up before the front door with a little flourish.

"This is no hotel." Her lips felt as if they didn't belong to her. "You've brought me to the wrong place."

The driver got out of the car and hurried around to open the door for her. "It is a little surprise. The Texan wants to see you."

"The Texan," she repeated numbly. "And just who is the Texan?"

"Gideon. Who else?" Ross Anders stepped out of the shadows of the front door alcove. "Hello, Serena. How are you?" His dark eyes went over her admiringly. "Besides being very beautiful, very elegant, and very sophisticated?"

"Fine." She moistened her lips with her tongue. "Just fine. How are you?" He looked very much the same as the last time she had seen him. There was a little more gray in his hair and he was wearing a steel-gray business suit that fit his blocky form with tailored elegance. She automatically identified it: Saville Row.

He smiled and stepped forward to help her out of the car. "Very well." He turned to the taxi driver. "Good job, Luis. Take her luggage out of the trunk and set them on the patio. I'll have one of the servants bring them in later."

Serena was suddenly jarred out of the stunned bewilderment into which she had been plunged when she'd seen the house. "No, I can't stay. I have to go to the hotel." She turned to the driver who was now at the trunk, busily extricating her suitcase. "Put it back in the trunk. I'm not staying."

The driver ignored her except for his beaming smile, which was beginning to annoy her exceedingly. He took the bag from the trunk and set it down.

"Did you hear me? I'm not staying."

"You are, you know," Ross said softly. "Luis isn't going to take you anywhere we don't want you to go. Gideon is in the library discussing business. Why don't you let me take you to your room to freshen up?"

"This is crazy." Serena could hear her voice tremble and tried to steady it. "Look, I have to go to my brother. He needs me."

He chuckled. "He needs absolutely nothing at the moment. He's being kept very well entertained."

"You know about Dane?" Serena asked incredulously.

Ross smiled. "He's a nice kid, a little wild, but he's got the right stuff. His coloring reminds me a little of you, Serena, but I understand he's only a half brother?"

"Yes," she said dazedly.

"He plays a mean game of poker." Ross's hand was on her elbow, propelling her gently toward the front door. "I nearly lost my shirt to him last night."

"They let you see him?"

"Oh yes, Gideon has me check on him every evening to make sure he's comfortable. Pedro Mendino can be… unpredictable."

Fear rained through her. "What do you mean unpredictable? Is Dane safe?"

Ross opened the door. "As in his mother's arms. Don't worry. Gideon won't let anything happen to Dane."

"Don't worry?" Serena whirled to face him, her violet eyes blazing. "What do you mean, don't worry? My brother has been imprisoned, I've been brought here and told I can't go anywhere without Gideon's permission and now you say this colonel who's holding Dane is 'unpredictable'! Why the hell shouldn't I worry?"

Ross blinked. Then a slow grin creased his cheeks. "My, how our meek little Serena has changed. I think Gideon's in for a surprise." He closed the door and gestured toward the graceful curving staircase. "I think I'll let him answer your question. I've done more than my share in this enterprise. Why don't you go up to your room. It's the same one you used last time. I'll tell him right away you want to see him."

"I want to see him now."

"He wants to see you too," Ross said soothingly. "Only the most urgent matter would have kept him from greeting you personally. As soon as he's finished his business hell be right up. Okay?"

"No!" She turned and started up the stairs. "It's not okay. Nothing is okay." She glanced down at him over the oak bannister. "But I'm going to make damn sure it will be soon."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "I bet you will."

Serena slammed the door of the bedroom and threw her shoulder bag on the chair by the door. She couldn't remember when she had been so furious. What the devil was happening here? When she had arrived she had been shaken, filled with painful nostalgia and… fear. This house, Ross, and, most of all, Gideon, were all tucked safely into the past. The vulnerable girl she had been that night was also in the past, and she had no desire for that girl ever to become real to her again. She had made many painful sacrifices to make sure those vulnerabilities didn't exist any longer.

She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was probably getting upset for nothing. He had probably heard by chance she was coming back to Mariba and thought it would be pleasant to see her again. Ten years had passed and their night together was bound to be as dreamlike to him as it was to her. The autocratic manner in which he'd arranged their meeting was annoying, but surely not threatening, and he was evidently being quite helpful to Dane.

Her eyes flicked open with shock. How did he know Dane was her brother? She hadn't given him her last name. If he hadn't known her last name, how could he possibly know she was coming to Mariba? Again, she shivered with fear. What did she know about Gideon Brandt? Nothing. He was an enigma seen through the eyes of a child, a child in a state bordering on emotional collapse. This episode was very strange. Was Gideon obsessed?

She moved slowly to the single window across the room. Decorative wrought iron bars guarded the windows as in many Spanish homes. Had the bars been there when she had been here before? She couldn't remember. Then, Gideon had said something about screens and keeping out the "critters." Heavens, she was becoming paranoid. She refused to panic. There had to be some reasonable explanation. She would see Gideon, they would talk and exchanged reminiscences and then she would leave.

She heard a low murmur of voices and her gaze was drawn to the patio directly below her window. Sunlight glinted and then was captured in the crisp, tawny hair of the man standing just below her. Gideon. She felt a tiny shock. His back was to her, but she recognized him instantly. He was dressed casually, a white short-sleeved shirt, black jeans and boots, all emphasizing the tough leanness of his body. He was standing beside a tall, brown-haired young woman in a Dior suit; whose lush figure would have given Raquel Welch an inferiority complex. The woman smiled at Gideon with unmistakable intimacy as he helped her into the back of a long navy blue limousine.