She gestured to the stubbed joint at his feet, still releasing a coil of telltale smoke. “So, you were just holding it for your brother?”

Devin’s mouth twitched. “Actually, yes.”

His amusement only added fuel to her anger. “You really think I’m that gullible.” Like she didn’t already know the answer to that.

His grin faded. “Heartbreaker, you know me better than that.”

“Do I?” Or had she let herself be beguiled into seeing what was never there?

“Yes. You do.” An edge came into his voice. “I was cleaning up after Zander. Mark didn’t want any, and even if he had, neither of us would have given it to him.” His voice low and persuasive, Devin came closer. So did the smell of weed.

“Even if Mark didn’t smoke, how can you act like it’s okay when the stuff’s illegal? What kind of message is that sending him?”

“If he’s going to have a career in the music industry, the sooner he learns how to resist temptation the better. But he does know.”

But not from her, not from his mother. And tonight she hadn’t protected him. Guilt lacerated her. Teenagers, even sensible ones, made errors of judgment…who understood that better than Rachel? And yet she’d let her feelings for Devin cloud her own judgment. Even when Zander’s arrival rang warning bells she hadn’t taken Mark home. When she should have been looking out for her son’s interests, she’d put romance first.

“This isn’t his world. He shouldn’t be here,” she exclaimed.

“Are we still talking about Mark…or you?”

“Both.” All her anguish, all her self-disgust, went into the next words. “You’re a bad influence.”

His face lost all expression. “Because I don’t hide my past like you do? At least I don’t keep secrets from people I care about.”

“So Zander didn’t ask you to rejoin the band?”

“He did, but I’m not going anywhere, Rachel.”

She tamped down her relief. “It’s no longer important.” It was time she got her priorities straight. “After what just happened with Mark, you’re no longer important.”

She saw him take the hit, his shock, the closure. Like a door slamming on an opportunity she’d never had, merely imagined. “So it was always about Mark.”

She didn’t answer. Everything came back to her son. It always had. And she’d made the mistake of forgetting that for a while. Well, no longer.

Moving toward the house, he paused beside her. She’d never seen such cold contempt. “The last ferry back to Auckland leaves at midnight,” he said. “Take it.”

RACHEL COLLAPSED into a nearby deck chair. Slowly, the noise of the party returned, faint laughter, the underlying bass beat of the music-like the harsh throb of a migraine.

If only she’d trusted her first impression. Instead, she’d let herself be seduced by Devin’s charm, disarmed by his honesty. She buried her face in her hands. How could she have been so naive?

She’d been dazzled by his sex appeal and-Rachel squirmed-by his interest in her. And this time she didn’t have youth as an excuse. She was pathetic. But she was through being pathetic. She’d tell Mark the truth as soon as they had privacy…tell him and accept the consequences.

If Devin doesn’t tell him first.

The thought propelled her to her feet. Oh, God, he was angry enough to. Rachel ran.

Back in the lounge, the music had been cranked up and the lights dimmed for dancing. Rock, loud and discordant, jangled her shattered nerves. Through the shadowy gyrating forms she could see Tim at the door. She’d forgotten all about the taxi driver.

Holding up her fingers, she mouthed, “Five minutes.”

The cabbie jerked his head in consent. But where was Mark?

Hurrying out to the pool, Rachel scanned the surrounding gardens. Party debris was everywhere, some of it human. Shrieking with laughter, two young women frolicked in the pool, expensive gowns ballooning around their legs.

A hand slid down her bare back. “You look hot when you’re mad,” said Zander in her ear, his breath sour with whiskey. He fingered the halter bow of her dress. “One tweak and this unties, right?”

Skin crawling, Rachel stepped away. At least Mark was no longer with him. “You don’t care who you hurt, do you?”

“Devin can take care of himself. In fact, he’s about to do that right now in the spa with a few women. That frees you and me to play.”

From the other side of the swimming pool, Stormy watched them, her beautiful face miserable. “And what about your girlfriend?”

“Stormy knows there’s plenty to go around.” Lazily, Zander ran a thumb down Rachel’s cleavage. “So what do you say, you open to sharing the love?”

She shoved him into the pool and headed for the spa.

“COME ON IN, Devin, the water’s steaming.”

Ignoring the women in the hot tub to his right, Devin stood on the deck overlooking the ocean, letting the wind cool his temper. As soon as the proverbial hit the fan, Rachel had defaulted to what she really believed. That he was irredeemable, an evil influence.

“Yoo-hoo, Devvvin.”

What hurt most was that she didn’t trust him with Mark-the kid he’d helped her bond with, the kid he’d kept her secret from-against his better judgment.

She’d exploited his feelings in order to access her son, and later to manipulate him into keeping his mouth shut. Devin felt used, disgusted. And bitter.

“Devin, are you listening? We want to make room for you.”

Turning his head, he saw Dimity lounging in the spa with a couple of other women-he recognized Zander’s stylist and dietitian-sharing a bottle of Moet.

They were up to their necks in bubbles, inside as well as out. This was the third time his brother’s P.A. had hit on Devin tonight. He was about to shut her down once and for all when Rachel spoke behind him.

“Where’s Mark?”

Devin pivoted. “I told you to go.”

“No more girls,” Dimity called petulantly from the spa. “We want Devin to ourselves.”

“Not without Mark.” Rachel’s anxiety gave her away.

Devin leaned back against the railing. “Worried I’ll tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

Rachel froze, her expression stricken as she held Devin’s gaze. Another painful reminder that she’d never trusted him.

“Dev?” It was natural for Mark to turn to him first. Guilt twisted in Devin’s gut. He was supposed to be the boy’s mentor, his friend, and he’d put a stupid infatuation before that.

Mark stood by the side of the house, exposed to the northerly wind, his borrowed shirt whipping behind his skinny body like a superhero’s cape. His fair hair tangled over his eyes, and he swept it back as he looked past Devin to Rachel.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Rachel said hoarsely.

Devin laughed. Behind him, Rachel murmured, “Please.”

The three women in the hot tub were whispering among themselves. “You can come in, Devin’s friend,” called the dietitian, a skinny blonde. “But only if you bring Devin with you.”

A wet, black bikini top landed with a plop at Mark’s feet. He blushed fiery red, visible even under the outdoor lights. It brought Devin to his senses. However much he despised Rachel right now, he couldn’t tell Mark here.

“We broke up,” he said. “Do me a favor, buddy. Take her back to Auckland.”

Color crept back into her pale face. “Thank you,” she mouthed. Turning away, she hesitated. “I have to clear one thing up. It wasn’t just about…what you thought it was.”

He’d thought it was about love. Devin started unbuttoning his shirt. “Yeah, well, like you said. No longer important.” One benefit of living in the public eye was the ability to pretend you didn’t give a damn. “Make room for me, ladies.”

He kicked off his boots, then unbuckled his belt. Rachel looked from him to the spa, then back again. She seemed unable to move.

Unzipping his jeans, Devin dropped his pants, to whistles of appreciation from the spa, and stood in black briefs. “So, was there anything else?” he inquired impatiently.