Of course his brother would kill as many birds with one stone as possible. Talking Devin out of a lawsuit, self-promotion and Mom. Probably in that order.

Cloaking her disappointment, their mother said cheerfully, “Well, I’ll just have to make the most of you now, then.”

“On that note,” said Rachel, “let Mark and I give you guys some time alone.” The two of them got to their feet.

“You don’t have to,” Katherine protested.

“That would be nice,” said Zander.

“Ignore him,” ordered Devin, but Rachel shook her head. Stepping closer, she murmured, “We want to buy your mom a present, anyway. The village is within walking distance, isn’t it?” He nodded. “C’mon, Mark.”

As soon as they’d disappeared through the sliding doors, Zander turned back to Katherine. “How did you know I was here?”

She laughed. “Jungle drums. I know you’ve rented every Mercedes on the island, used helicopters to get here and have commandeered the island’s best chef for a private party tonight.”

“Ah, but do you know the party’s for you?”

Their mother melted. “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble.”

“You’re worth it.” He dropped a kiss on her head. “Invite whoever you like.”

Devin stifled a snort. Yep, lifting his little finger must have been hard. If the prodigal son had come back repentant, fine, but his brother was serving his own agenda, not Mom’s. And that was saving his ass from being sued. Besides, knowing Zander, the party would be full of music execs, a local TV news crew, a couple women’s mags and a whole lot of eye candy.

With his arm around their mother, Zander looked up and obviously read Devin’s thoughts, because he smiled. “Isn’t this nice, the whole family together again? Come join the hug, little brother.”

Disgusted, Devin shook his head. Zander was using their mom to try to guilt him into backing off.

“Yes, Dev.” Katherine freed an arm and held it out. “Get in here.” Looking at her radiant face, he couldn’t refuse. With her frail body between them and her arms tight around their waists, Devin glared at his brother.

Zander smiled. “Family should always come first, don’t you think? Which brings me to the other reason I’m here.”

He paused for a dramatic effect. “I want you to rejoin Rage.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you can’t tell me?” Mark’s spirits deflated like a three-day-old balloon. He looked at his reflection in the mirrored wardrobe of the guest bedroom, where he’d been checking himself out when Trixie rang.

Since he hadn’t brought party clothes, Devin had lent him a hot shirt, black with silver stitching. The material was so soft against his skin it had to be expensive. Tight on Devin, it hung loose on Mark, but he wasn’t into fitted shirts anyway, at least not until his body filled out.

“It’s…complicated,” said Trixie.

“What’s complicated about it? If there’s more than one woman who qualifies, I’ll ask them all. I won’t squeal where I got the information from, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I think I should make a few of my own inquiries first, okay?”

Was that uncertainty? Mark’s fingers tightened on the cell phone. “You know one of them, don’t you?”

Her voice was suddenly wary. “I didn’t say that… I gotta go. Let’s leave this until Monday.”

His mind started to race. Most of the university staff used the library and Trixie was the kind of person who talked to everybody. “Tell me, please. This is important to me.”

“I…I can’t.”

“You have to-”

She hung up on him.

Immediately, Mark rang back, and got the message, “This cell phone is either switched off or outside the coverage area. Please try again later.” Shit. Tossing the phone onto the bed, he put his head in his hands.

There was a knock on the door, then Rachel popped her head in. “Ready to go to this…Mark, what’s wrong?”

He was so gutted, he nearly told her. But that would only put a downer on her evening, too. And enough people knew his secret. So he dropped his hands. “Nothing.”

She came into the room. “You’re pale. Are you sure you’re well enough to go? I’d be happy to stay behind and keep you company.”

Mark mustered a smile. “No, I want to. I mean how many times do you get to go to a party like this in your life, right?” Rachel was still scanning him anxiously so he made an effort. “You look nice.”

She was wearing a halter-necked sundress patterned in swirls of blue, orange and green. Rachel glowed from his compliment. She always acted as if his opinion mattered. It made him feel a little better.

“It’s a bit casual,” she replied, “but it’s all I’ve got.”

Mark had to smile. “Rachel, you always look dressed up.”

“To a teenager, maybe.” She held out her arm. “Shall we?”

Mark hooked his arm through hers, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. For Trixie to suddenly get this protective, it must be someone she liked. That substantially narrowed the field.

Surely if he thought hard enough, he could work this out.

“WOW, YOUR OLD LADY HAS a lot of friends,” the hippie driver said to Devin as the battered island taxi began its descent down the steep, unsealed private road.

From the back, where she sat with Mark, Rachel watched Devin’s jaw tighten as he surveyed the emerging spectacle, but he made no reply.

They were catching a cab to the party because he didn’t own a vehicle that seated more than two people. It was another reminder that the man was essentially a loner.

Zander’s “rental” was a monstrosity of neoclassical architecture that dominated a private beach. At eight-thirty, the sunset tinted the marble exterior a Miami pink, and the giant palms accentuated the tropical glamour.

But what made Rachel smooth the skirt of her sundress were not the few hundred people dotted around the tear-shaped swimming pool, waterfall and lush gardens, but the realization that this event was way bigger than an impromptu Waiheke party.

“I’m seriously underdressed,” she said faintly. Her gold strapped sandals had low heels and she hadn’t brought jewelry to the island.

Devin didn’t turn to look at her. “So am I. Don’t worry about it.”

The difference was that he made underdressed sexy.

He was wearing slashed jeans and a vermilion shirt open over a black tank. His black belt was studded with silver that picked up the toe cappers on his kick-ass black boots, and the chains around his neck. As usual, his hair was disheveled in the unstudied style that suited his strong, stubbled jaw and wide cheekbones.

He looked exactly what he was, a supremely confident handsome male who didn’t give a damn what anybody thought. And right now that seemed to include her.

Devin had been distracted since Zander’s arrival, but after his mother and brother left, his mood had darkened to the point that he’d excused himself and disappeared into his study.

“Maybe he misses the life,” Mark had suggested as he and Rachel walked along the sandy beach below the house. “I mean, he only quit because he had to.”

She’d thought the undercurrents were more complex than that, but Devin had snapped her head off when she’d asked if something was bothering him. Though he’d immediately apologized, he continued to be remote.

“Oh, hell, pull over,” Devin said abruptly, and the cab driver, Tim, slammed on his brakes. They were still three hundred yards from the entrance.

“What’s up?” asked Mark.

“Press.” Arm on the seat back, Devin turned to Rachel. “It’s probably better if we’re not photographed together.”

“It’s okay, I have nothing to hide.” Since she was telling Mark the truth tomorrow it wouldn’t matter if his parents recognized her in pictures.

“Yeah, but I do.” Glancing at Tim, he lowered his voice. “There’s a chance I’m going to get newsworthy again soon, so it’s better if my private and public worlds are kept separate. I’ll walk from here and meet you both inside.”