Nora Roberts - Risky Business - the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down

“Ever get back to the States?”

“No.” Liz swallowed and called herself a fool. It had been the pictures, she told herself, the pictures that had come in yesterday’s mail of her little girl wearing a pink dress.

“Hiding from something?”

She whirled back, tears replaced with fury. Her body was arched like a bow ready to launch. Jonas held up a hand.

“Sorry. I have a habit of poking into secrets.”

She forced herself to relax, to strap back passion as she’d taught herself so long ago. “It’s a good way to lose your fingers, Mr. Sharpe.”

He chuckled. “That’s a possibility. I’ve always considered it worth the risk. They call you Liz, don’t they?”

Her brow lifted under the fringe that blew around her brow. “My friends do.”

“It suits you, except when you try to be aloof. Then it should be Elizabeth.”

She sent him a smoldering look, certain he was trying to annoy her. “No one calls me Elizabeth.”

He merely grinned at her. “Why weren’t you sleeping with Jerry?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yes, definitely Elizabeth. You’re a beautiful woman in an odd sort of way.” He tossed out the compliment as casually as he tossed the cigarette into the water. “Jerry had a…fondness for beautiful women. I can’t figure out why you weren’t lovers.”

For a moment, only a moment, it occurred to her that no one had called her beautiful in a very long time. She’d needed words like that once. Then she leaned back on the rail, planted her hands and aimed a killing look. She didn’t need them now.

“I didn’t choose to sleep with him. It might be difficult for you to accept, as you share the same face, but I didn’t find Jerry irresistible.”

“No?” As relaxed as she was tensed, Jonas reached into the cooler, offering her a beer. When she shook her head, he popped the top on one for himself. “What did you find him?”

“He was a drifter, and he happened to drift into my life. I gave him a job because he had a quick mind and a strong back. The truth was, I never expected him to last over a month. Men like him don’t.”

Though he hadn’t moved a muscle, Jonas had come to attention. “Men like him?”

“Men who look for the quickest way to easy street. He worked because he liked to eat, but he was always looking for the big strike—one he wouldn’t have to sweat for.”

“So you did know him,” Jonas murmured. “What was he looking for here?”

“I tell you I don’t know! For all I know he was looking for a good time and a little sun.” Frustration poured out of her as she tossed a hand in the air. “I let him have a room because he seemed harmless and I could use the money. I wasn’t intimate with him on any level. The closest he came to talking about what he was up to was bragging about diving for big bucks.”

“Diving? Where?”

Fighting for control, she dragged a hand through her hair. “I wish you’d leave me alone.”

“You’re a realistic woman, aren’t you, Elizabeth?”

Her chin was set when she looked back at him. “Yes.”

“Then you know I won’t. Where was he going to dive?”

“I don’t know. I barely listened to him when he got started on how rich he was going to be.”

“What did he say?” This time Jonas’s voice was quiet, persuading. “Just try to think back and remember what he told you.”

“He said something about making a fortune diving, and I joked about sunken treasure. And he said…” She strained to remember the conversation. It had been late in the evening, and she’d been busy, preoccupied. “I was working at home,” Liz remembered. “I always seem to handle the books better at night. He’d been out, partying I thought, because he was a little unsteady when he came in. He pulled me out of the chair. I remember I started to swear at him but he looked so damn happy, I let it go. Really, I hardly listened because I was picking up all the papers he’d scattered, but he was saying something about the big time and buying champagne to celebrate. I told him he’d better stick to beer on his salary. That’s when he talked about deals coming through and diving for big bucks. Then I made some comment about sunken treasure….”

“And what did he say?”

“Sometimes you make more putting stuff in than taking it out.” With a line between her brows, she remembered how he’d laughed when she’d told him to go sleep it off. “He made a pass neither one of us took seriously, and then…I think he made a phone call. I went back to work.”

“When was this?”

“A week, maybe one week after I took him on.”

“That must have been when he called me.” Jonas looked out to sea. And he hadn’t paid much attention, either, he reminded himself. Jerry had talked about coming home in style. But then he had always been talking about coming home in style. And the call, as usual, had been collect.

“Did you ever see him with anyone? Talking, arguing?”

“I never saw him argue with anyone. He flirted with the women on the beach, made small talk with the clients and got along just fine with everyone he worked with. I assumed he spent most of his free time in San Miguel. I think he cruised a few bars with Luis and some of the others.”

“What bars?”

“You’ll have to ask them, though I’m sure the police already have.” She took a deep breath. It was bringing it all back again, too close. “Mr. Sharpe, why don’t you let the police handle this? You’re running after shadows.”

“He was my brother.” And more, what he couldn’t explain, his twin. Part of himself had been murdered. If he were ever to feel whole again, he had to know why. “Haven’t you wondered why Jerry was murdered?”

“Of course.” She looked down at her hands. They were empty and she felt helpless. “I thought he must’ve gotten into a fight, or maybe he bragged to the wrong person. He had a bad habit of tossing what money he had around.”

“It wasn’t robbery or a mugging, Elizabeth. It was professional. It was business.”

Her heart began a slow, painful thud. “I don’t understand.”

“Jerry was murdered by a pro, and I’m going to find out why.”

Because her throat was suddenly dry, she swallowed. “If you’re right, then that’s all the more reason to leave it to the police.”

He drew out his cigarettes again, but stared ahead to where the sky met the water. “Police don’t want revenge. I do.” In his voice, she heard the calm patience and felt a shiver.

Staring, she shook her head. “Even if you found the person who did it, what could you do?”

He took a long pull from his beer. “As a lawyer, I suppose I’d be obliged to see they had their day in court. As a brother…” He trailed off and drank again. “We’ll have to see.”

“I don’t think you’re a very nice man, Mr. Sharpe.”

“I’m not.” He turned his head until his eyes locked on hers. “And I’m not harmless. Remember, if I make a pass, we’ll both take it seriously.”

She started to speak, then saw his line go taut. “You’ve got a fish, Mr. Sharpe,” she said dryly. “You’d better strap in or he’ll pull you overboard.”

Turning on her heel, she went back to the bridge, leaving Jonas to fend for himself.

It was sundown when Liz parked her bike under the lean-to beside her house. She was still laughing. However much trouble Jonas had caused her, however much he had annoyed her in three brief meetings, she had his two hundred dollars. And he had a thirty-pound marlin—whether he wanted it or not. We deliver, she thought as she jingled her keys.

Oh, it had been worth it, just to see his face when he’d found himself on the other end of the wire from a big, bad-tempered fish. Liz believed he’d have let it go if she hadn’t taken the time for one last smirk. Stubborn, she thought again. Yes, any other time she’d have admired it, and him.