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“Well, probably not that much.” Horn placed a noisy kiss on her cheek. “We’re on a trial honeymoon.”

She laughed, hoping Antigua didn’t hear the anger close to exploding in her gut. “We are engaged and thought this cruise would bring us closer together.”

“I see. This trial honeymoon is an American thing?” Antigua’s gaze revealed some curiosity. “Still, we will enjoy each other’s company. No?”

“Count on it.” Horn touched his back pocket as if his wallet had been lifted. “How do you feel about shuffle board?”

Antigua shook his head and walked away.

“Damn you, Horn.” Lana pulled him toward the elevator.

“What?” He jostled the duffle against her leg. “What did I do now to upset my little woman?”

“Could you have been any more ignorant?” She slapped at the duffle bag. “I expected you to
yuk-yuk-yuk
like Popeye at any moment. Are we trying to make him think we are straight out of a corn field?”

“The dumber he thinks I am, the less vigilant he’ll be.” Horn gave her a hard stare. “Are we on the same page?”

He’d spoken to her like a real hard-ass. She didn’t like it. “Just don’t carry it too far.” Lana hurried ahead of him.

His show of macho leadership slammed the door on any thoughts of replaying the events of their first meeting.

Much to her humiliation, she had to admit he’d been right.

She stood beside him in the elevator, consumed by desire to hate him, yet his presence once again overwhelmed her weakening defense.

It wasn’t a question of if, but rather when she would be swept away by passion once again in his arms.

Chapter Eight

Sam took extra time hanging his clothes in the double closet. “How mad are you?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

Leaning against the fancy oak closet door, he wondered about the woman with a body to die for and a well-hidden past. Did he care enough to pester her about it? No. Not yet.

She took plenty damn long putting her panties and bras in four of the six drawers of the stack chest. White. Mostly white. His interest perked when a flash of red and then black undies were neatly folded and laid on top of the virginal underwear.

His thoughts rewound and a sobering idea clamped around his brain. “Pearly.”

She paused in her nest building to stare his way. “What do you need? Just use the round thing on the door and push.” Her mouth set in a cute, smug little smile of disdain. “The door will close. Just do the opposite to open it.”

Sam knew what had set her off. But he didn’t intend to make apologies for being right. He’d been in the game a lot longer than his partner. His attitude softened when she turned her head to avoid looking at him.

“Okay, baby.” He stepped in front of her. “Let’s clear the air.”

He thought she would ignore him, but instead she turned to face him. “I may have been a little short with you before.” She twisted the blouse in her hand into a knot. “But you have to understand. I never know what you’re going to say. Or do.”

Sam laughed softly and took the mangled garment from her hand. “You mean the too stupid to live thing?”

“Exactly.” Her honest gaze sent a jolt of hunger through him.

“It works every time, babe.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “People love it when they think you’re dumb as dirt. Leads them to believe they have the upper hand.

She inhaled, glancing away. “You took me by surprise, Horn.”

She clearly hadn’t been exposed to a down-and-dirty life, not even as an agent. “I won’t have time to tell you everything I’m going to do. Time don’t allow for that luxury.” Maybe she didn’t like the situation, but she did nod in silent agreement.

“So, I’m to expect anything at anytime?”

“Now we’re on the same page, partner.” He longed to say something sexy to her, but the risk of being decked didn’t appeal to him. “Let’s see your bathing suit.”

Her eyes rounded with surprise. “Why?”

“Don’t argue. Let’s see it.” Sam waited while she dug the suit from the bottom dresser drawer. His first impulse was to laugh. No good. He chose tact. “Come on, babe. We’re going shopping.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” She held it up to study the navy blue, boxy two-piece thing. “I just bought this.”

“To wear, where? Honey, this is a cruise ship.” He softened his comment. “The suit is fine, just not for bait.”

Her brow knitted in a soft frown. “I didn’t bring enough money to buy frivolous things.”

He took her hand and led her to the door. “Let me buy you a gift.”

She balked a little. “Okay, but I’m keeping tabs on every dime you squander on unnecessary things.”

“Let me worry about the money.” He placed his hands on her waist, and lightning struck as the familiar, firm flesh warmed under his palms. “Whatever you decide on will be enough to start a blaze on deck.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know the prices in the shops are exorbitant.”

“Great. The more the better.”

Pearly had to be the first woman he’d known to quibble about high prices. That seemed totally out of sync. He knew her background had been one of privileged upbringing. Whatever the reason, now wouldn’t be a good time to question her.

It didn’t matter. He wanted to lavish gifts on Pearly. That’s what a man did when a woman completely blew him away.

* * * *

Lana experienced a rush of shameless pleasure in being escorted into the first swimwear shop by the best looking man on the ship. She amended the thought. The best looking man anywhere. The desire to hang all over him bubbled strong in her blood.

You are a slut at heart, Lana
.

She abruptly stopped daydreaming after seeing the price of the suits Sam had pointed out. She flipped the price tag over. “You’re out of your mind, Horn. Six hundred dollars for a scrap of cloth. Never.”

He waved the haughty looking salesman away. “That would be the best six hundred I ever spent.” He took several more from the rack. “I like these, too.”

She felt elated and nervous. “All right. I’ll try them on, but that does not mean I’m accepting this as anymore than a loan.”

She regretted her words. He looked disappointed. Had it been the mention of money, or had he changed his mind? Clutching the suits, she walked hesitantly into the fitting room.

Lana stood naked, the first swimsuit in her hand. The knowledge that Sam stood just outside the flimsy slat door gave her a rush of inappropriate thrill. Her nipples puckered at the memory of how he’d brought her to repeated orgasm while nibbling on them.

Foolish woman. Stop letting those memories make a fool of you
.

The grimace on her mouth melted after she slipped the suit on. She stood back from the mirror and leaned her head from side to side. The suit fit her perfectly, not covering much, but too beautiful to turn down. She’d never worn a true bikini before and felt a little wild in the white outfit. Soft materiel covered her butt, and gold O-rings at her hips fastened it just under her belly button, baring her legs up to the waist.

The bra covered very nicely, what it covered, but she wasn’t sure about the way her breasts overflowed the cups. On the plus side, the suit hugged all the right places.

“Madame, you fiancé has requested you show him the suit.” The male voice in her fitting room startled her.

“Yes, thank you,” she called out, getting ready to deck the manager if he wanted to check the fit. “I’ll be right out.”

Shoes or no shoes? Quit balking and show Sam what he’s paying for.

She slipped on her strappy sandals and walked out into the small viewing room to give Sam a private preview.

He didn’t say a word. He simply gazed at her, raw desire glinting in his eyes. He didn’t miss an inch of her body and finally nodded his approval. Thank God she’d gotten a wax job just before this assignment.

He took her hand to slowly twirl her around, murmuring softly. “We made the right choice, Pearly.” He pulled out his wallet. “You’ll probably want other things. I’ll wait out in front.”

She hesitated, unsure about buying more. “Sam. Which one do I take?”

“All of them.” He walked out and quickly started a conversation with the eager-to-please salesman.

Lana dressed in a hurry, grabbing up the two suits she hadn’t tried on. This had to be the most exorbitant shopping spree she’d ever been on. It held a certain thrill. She liked it.

She almost laughed at the speed with which the sales clerk slid the suits off the glass counter and began wrapping them in gold tissue.

Touching anything meant you wanted it in Sam’s eyes.

“We’ll take the sunglasses my fiancée is looking at.” He took a pure silk wrap off a display bar, holding it up to her face. “Perfect color for you, beautiful.”

Lana groaned, realizing too late the floppy brimmed straw hat she’d absently touched had been added to the tally. “Sam, that’s quite enough. I did bring things with me.”

He handed his credit card to the beaming, blabbering clerk and reassured her. “I know women never have too much stuff.” He signed the sales slip and plopped the hat on her head. “Hungry yet?”

She licked her lips, glad he remembered breakfast had been hours ago. “Absolutely.”

Outside the shop, Sam stopped a steward. “My fiancée and I will have lunch in our stateroom.” He looked at his watch. “While we wait, we’ll have coffee by the pool.”

Reminiscent of old movie style, the steward nodded and tipped his hat. “Very good, sir. I’ll bring a menu for your selection.” He bowed slightly. “Anything else, sir?”

“That will do.” Sam hugged her close, yet she wasn’t falling for it. He used the show of tenderness to take a recon look around.

“See anything?” Lana absently kissed his cheek.

“The snake woman is watching us.” Sam pulled the brim of the hat up to peer into her eyes. “Now, on the other hand, you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever looked into.”

She laughed and let a shiver of pleasure run its course. “We had better have our coffee and keep her in sight.”

He took another look around and led the way to the café-style restaurant. Lana understood his lack of attentiveness. One of Antigua’s hatchet men had joined Snake Woman. Lana thought of zombie people while the man stood by Snake Woman, his crafty gaze slithering over the crowd. The two didn’t speak, and her departure seemed to go unnoticed. Something strange hovered around those people. They were dangerous.

Lana wouldn’t ask Sam if he’d gotten the same feeling of being near the un-dead. That’s all he would need to see her as an added burden. She blinked her eyes and the Antigua guard had left the area. Sam’s warm voice swept the unpleasant moment away.

She didn’t object to him ordering broiled chicken for lunch. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, and the rich coffee didn’t ease the desire for food. She grabbed an éclair, closing her eyes with pleasure as she swallowed a bite of the rich pastry.

“Come on, baby.” Sam rose and took the packages. “Let’s go have our lunch in a better atmosphere.”

Lana thought about how heated the atmosphere could become if they let go of restraint. She knew this had to end. The pressure of being an agent had become too much to bear. One part of her could be depended on. The other part wanted to chuck it all for one more chance at ecstasy.

Chapter Nine

While they waited for their meal, Sam checked in with the bureau, giving a description of Antigua’s entourage. Lana tried to concentrate on the list she made of activities to keep them near Antigua.

“Sam, we should stay near the pool tomorrow.” She tapped her pen on her chin. “We can see so much up there and maybe get to know him better. He seems to like company.”

He ended the call and sank down on the bed. “They want pictures of the stash Antigua has for the buy. Plus all the guns protecting him. Turns out, most of them are on the list for their association with known terrorists.”

She didn’t seem worried by his observation and held up her camera. “That’s what this is for.”

He got up to let the steward in. “Put that away, babe. You don’t know who this guy is really working for.”

She nodded, dropping the camera in a drawer of the armoire. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Their meal had been delivered and the steward gone before their conversation resumed. He listened at the door before sitting down to eat.

“So, Pearly. Why are you afraid to spend money on yourself?” He instantly rephrased the comment. She avoided eye contact, flushing with embarrassment. “I should have said frugal.”

She finished chewing her bite of salad, now angry and defensive. “Are you worried about being repaid?”

He placed his fork on his plate, eyeing her like she had been put under a microscope. “You don’t repay a gift.” He sipped his water, quietly waiting for an answer.

Why not tell him? She wasn’t anything more to him than a temporary partner, and it would never get back to the people involved.

“My parents fought constantly about money.” The echo of those never-ending arguments haunted her. “Not the lack of it, but how my mother bought new clothes on a daily bases. That irked my father. He’s thrifty, almost crazy about keeping accounts straight.”

Sam tasted the salad and then took a forkful to his mouth. “Go ahead. I’m not sure why a wealthy man would care about a few clothes.” He gestured toward her. “You first, and I’ll tell you about my family.”

“I’m sure they are nothing like mine.” The chicken almost choked her, and she drank half the water in her glass. “They were different as night and day. He’s had money all his life, but his parents were the stingiest socialites on the East Coast.” She sighed, telling him things she’d never reveal to anyone else. “Mother came from free spending, socially active parents. She couldn’t understand Dad’s tightwad attitude, and soon told him to mind his own business.”

Sam didn’t interrupt, except to offer her more chicken. “Isn’t the food doing it for you, baby?” He reached for another roll.

“It’s fine.” Lana nibbled on the fruit, trying to make sense of what she had lived with all her life. “They separated, not wanting to cause a scandal with divorce. They cut me in half, you know, six months of the year with each until I was eighteen.”