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conquered the world.
    It was later that day, and they were sitting in their half wet suits on the beach, their sticks—surfboards—abandoned right now even though the conditions offshore were perfect. The five-foot waves curled into barrels that Kat was yearning to pipe.
    Duke’s smooth, bald head absorbed the early-September sunset. He’d been waiting for Kat on shore for his twice-a-week “lesson.” Even though he wouldn’t get around to catching anything today—he never did—Kat knew that Duke enjoyed watching her carve the waves more than anything else. They never talked about the fact that he was too unhealthy to be in the water. It was hard to admit, especially since the sixty-five-year-old’s hazel eyes still glittered with desperate vitality, the line of his jaw hinting at the wild adventurer he used to be.
    But even shaken by his cancer, Duke still wanted to believe that he could climb mountains, surf and basically accomplish everything he wanted to before he died. And Kat never disagreed with him.
    “Screw what happened with Yoko,” Kat said. “You’re not looking so hot today. Isn’t the new medication—?”
    “It’s working fine, don’t worry. Been a harder day than most though.” His thin voice was wry, amused.“And let’s not ‘screw’ what happened with Yoko, Kat. Suddenly your livelihood is in question. Locker-room brawls with coworkers don’t go over well with most bosses.”
    Kat shrugged. “It wasn’t a brawl , just an energetic talking-to. And, don’t worry, I’m only under review with pay for a few weeks. At least I’m not fired like Yoko.”
    After Kat had offered her coworker a scathing crash course in manners, Yoko had once again emphasized that she hadn’t meant to hurt Kat, that she’d only wanted to make everyone see that she deserved to be in Kat’s lead position. Losing face in Yoko’s culture was a huge deal, which made Kat wonder why it didn’t matter so much to her, too.
    Probably because her Japanese mom had died when she was only three. Probably because Kat hadn’t been raised to really have a culture since all ritual and ethnic identity had been erased when her mother had passed on. Her dad hadn’t been much on teaching her about any of that, either.
    “I can give you a loan to keep you feeling secure in case you do get fired after this suspension,” Duke said, grinning. “Come on, you know I’m good for it.”
    Temptation chewed at her. But…no. Her pride would eat her alive if she gave in.
    “No more offers, okay?” Kat said.
    “All right, it’s rescinded.” Duke sighed and slumped over, arms on knees. “If I didn’t have a rule about getting persuasive with women, I’d…”
    “Is that what they call it nowadays? ‘Getting persuasive’?”
    They relaxed and laughed at her deft switch of topic. During all their beachside conversations, Duke had revealed that he wasn’t into dating, not since his wife had passed away years ago. Not since he’d sworn off that notorious party rep: the hard drinking and smoking, the womanizing, the decadence that had earned him the headline nickname of Ride-’em-Hard Playboy.
    Actually, he’d told her he’d rather spend his time setting his world to rights instead of setting some poor woman up for heartbreak when his time ran out. Besides, he seemed perfectly happy hanging out with Kat. Somehow, she’d become the symbol of youth for Edward “Duke” Harrington III, a way for him to make up for everything he hadn’t made time to do, a reminder of healthy days wasted away. There were times when she also suspected that he felt normal with her, that he could forget all the billions of dollars he had in the bank and all the grief that went with it.
    But…a loan from Duke? No way. She didn’t like the idea of owing anyone anything. She’d already gotten into enough trouble with credit-card companies but at least they were faceless. It’d be too uncomfortable knowing Duke had something to hold over her,