Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [61]
"What are you doing here?" Kate asked Tyler.
Apparently, his daughter had already met the reporter. Probably tried to steer him away from the family. Well, not this time. A reporter suited his purposes just fine.
"You're interrupting," Duncan said. "Mr. -- What was your name?"
"Jamison."
"Mr. Jamison and I are going to have a drink."
"Dad, he's a reporter," Kate protested.
"I know who he is," he said with a grin. "I just don't know what he's drinking."
"I'll have a beer," Tyler said to the nearby waiter. He turned to Kate. "What about you, Kate? Are you staying?"
Kate looked undecided, Ashley even more so.
"Sit or go," Duncan said impatiently. He would have preferred that they go, but he suspected that no matter how uncomfortable Kate felt, she would not leave him alone with the reporter.
"I'll stay," Kate said firmly. "Ashley will stay, too."
Ashley looked like she'd rather do anything else. But then that's the way Ashley looked most of the time, Duncan thought. His middle daughter had always been more of a mystery than the other two, and always so damn sensitive.
"Now, then, what can I tell you?" Duncan asked Tyler as his daughter joined them at the table.
"I'd like to hear about your experience racing around the world."
"That could take awhile, son," he said with a laugh.
"I'll bet." Tyler leaned forward. "I've read a great deal about the race, but what I'd really like to know is how it felt to sail through one of the most terrible storms in ocean-racing history."
"Ever had someone hold your head underwater?" Duncan asked. "I thought God had his hands on our heads that night. The waves got so bad we couldn't tell if we were sailing or if the boat was just filling up with water."
"It must have been terrifying," Tyler commented.
"It was the worst we'd ever been through." Duncan knew there had to be limits to this conversation, but, dammit, some day he wanted to tell the world just how hard it had been to sail through that monster. "But we survived."
"Were you close to the boat that didn't make it?" Tyler asked.
"Who could tell?" Kate said quickly. "We couldn't see past our noses out there."
"But they kept shouting Mayday over the radio," Ashley said. "I can still hear their voices filled with panic, begging for help. I don't think I'll ever forget those voices." Her own voice drifted away as if she were sorry she'd joined in the conversation.
Duncan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't want to talk about those voices; he wanted to talk about the roller-coaster waves and the strength it had taken to keep the boat from going under.
"When did you know that one of the boats had gone down?" Tyler asked Duncan.
"The next day, when it was over."
"I understand one man survived."
"Yes," Duncan answered. It was all a matter of public record, at least that part. He looked up as the door to the bar opened and his onetime friend and nemesis walked into the room. "Well, if that isn't right on cue. There he is now."
Duncan got to his feet, watching the man he had once loved as a brother, then hated as an enemy, walk into the room. K.C. looked good, too good. There was a glint in his eye, a spring in his step. He wanted the challenge as much as Duncan did. Two old gunfighters looking for a last shootout.
"Duncan," K.C. said.
The room grew quiet, as if everyone knew something was coming, but they weren't sure what.
"It's been too long," K.C. said.
"Has it? I haven't noticed."
"You haven't missed me?"
"Not at all," Duncan replied.
"I hope it's not difficult for you to see your boat being sailed by your old friend."
"I hope it won't be difficult for you to lose to your old friend yet again." Duncan felt his temper rise despite his best attempts to stay calm. God, he hated K.C.'s smug, smirking face and that slimy voice of his,