As well as sealed roadways that provided vehicular access to the accommodations, a series of rustic walking paths traversed the steeply sloped headland…although he didn’t think Susannah was taking a nice, invigorating stroll in the rain. Van had tried that himself after leaving the fitness centre—more at a run than a walk—before easing his overworked muscles into the swirling water. To help him relax, a bottle of pinot noir sat open at his side. The combination had been working a treat until he spotted the zigzagging umbrella zeroing in on his ridgetop location.It had been ninety minutes since they spoke. Ninety minutes to make her phone calls, to compare notes, to concoct whatever comeback she brought back to the table. And that’s what she would do. Van had no illusions about that. If her stake in this deal wasn’t high, she would not have hared down here today. She wouldn’t have reacted so strongly to his accusations. She would have shrugged them off or called his bluff by handing him Alex Carlisle’s business card.Earlier he’d been tense and on guard, wary of giving away his one point of weakness.
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