LITMIR.BIZ

      BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THE Grand Cuerva Hotel, night had fallen. John tipped the bellman with a damp five-dollar bill and escorted Lily into the elevator, then headed to their prebooked suite on the top floor—the sixth. The Grand Cuerva wasn’t the biggest hotel on the island nor the best. Obviously.

      The “honeymoon” decor looked like Valentine’s Day gone terribly wrong. The king-sized, canopy bed was draped in filmy red sheers that matched the curtains across the sliding doors to the balcony. Hearts loomed everywhere. A heart-shaped mirror over the dresser. Little heart vases. A red glass candy dish filled with—of course—hearts. There was even a red, heart-shaped Jacuzzi tub in the corner by the windows.

      Lily stood in the center of the room, glaring. “There’s only one bed.”

      “Honeymoon suite.”

      “We’re not sleeping together. I want my own room.”

      Though the thought of seducing her had crossed his mind a few thousand times, he had no intention of acting on that desire. Still, he couldn’t help teasing, “But we’re supposed to be lovers.”

      “That was before somebody sabotaged our plane. The bad guys know who we are. There’s no need to maintain undercover roles.”

      “Stop right there, rookie. It’s dangerous to make assumptions without all the facts.”

      “The sabotaged plane is a fact.”

      “But we don’t know the motivation. It’s possible that we weren’t the target. Somebody might have been after Edgar. I’ll bet he’s got a few enemies.”

      “Safe bet,” she said. “But why would they choose this moment to attack him? When we were in the plane?”

      “Coincidence.”

      She scoffed. “I don’t believe in coincidence.”

      With one hand fisted on her hip, her sharp little chin lifted, and her glare intensified. Clearly, she was moving into a confrontational posture.

      And he didn’t have patience to deal with an argument. In the crash, he’d been tossed around like a sock in a washing machine. His body ached, and his muscles were stiffening up.

      Ignoring her, he strolled toward the Jacuzzi. Steaming jets of water seemed like good therapy.

      “When I was a cop,” she said, “I learned one important thing. The most obvious solution is usually the correct solution. Because we were in the plane, the sabotage was meant for us.”

      “You’re not a cop anymore. The work we do is more subtle. There aren’t as many hard-and-fast rules.”

      “I know. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to work at PPS.”

      “Keep your mind open to the possibilities. All the possibilities. You’re smart enough to figure things out, and I want to hear what you’re thinking. But I have one hard-and-fast rule.”

      “What’s that?”

      “I’m in charge.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      Her tone was clipped, and he could tell that he was making her angry. Too bad. He was too worn out to be subtle with his explanations. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We make no assumptions until we talk to Robert and find out what his plan is. Tonight, we will parade around like a couple of dewy-eyed newlyweds. At midnight, we go to Pirate’s Cove and meet Robert. Is that clear?”

      Her full lips pinched together. A pink flush crept up her throat. “Perfectly clear.”

      John leaned across the Jacuzzi and turned on the faucets. The gush of water into the red, heart-shaped tub looked like a giant mouth gargling. “And now, I’m going to take a soak.”

      “Here?”

      “Right here. Right now.”

      He pulled his knit shirt over his head, revealing the waterproof money belt fastened around his waist. She’d teased him when he’d first put it on, called him a nerd. But this handy belt had kept his passport, his company credit card and his money relatively dry. He peeled it off and glanced in her direction.

      The pink in her cheeks had deepened to a bright scarlet. Through tight lips, she said, “You know, this might count as sexual harassment.”

      “Sue me.” He tossed his shirt into a puddle on the floor. “I’m tired and sore. And the dried salt water on my skin itches like hell. If you don’t want to watch, turn your head.”

      She darted forward and grabbed the money belt. “I need your credit card. I’m going downstairs to the lobby and, um, getting something.”

      He unfastened the top button on his trousers. “If it’s food you’re looking for, we can call room service.”

      “Clothes,” she said. “I need something to wear. There was a shop downstairs.”

      “Good thinking, rookie.”

      As she fled from the room, he dropped his trousers, kicked them aside and stepped into the hot water. He positioned himself so the pulsating jets massaged his left hip, where a large bruise was already turning black and blue. The heat penetrated his body, easing the stiffness. Oh yeah, this was good. The only thing better would be if Lily agreed to give him a rubdown, which he assumed, from her rapid retreat, wasn’t likely to happen.

      His gaze flicked around the room, resting on one heart-shaped object to another. This sure as hell wasn’t the way he’d pictured an idyllic island weekend with a lover.