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

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cozumel had been home to Liz Palmer for ten years. She was settled, respected. Her Black Coral Dive Shop was the best on the island. She no longer missed Houston, or thought about the man who didn't want her or their child.

And for two short weeks, Cozumel was home to Jerry Sharpe, the diving instructor she'd hired. Until they found him—murdered. Suddenly Jonas Sharpe, Jerry's twin brother, stormed into her well ordered life with grief in his eyes and revenge in his heart. He plunged them both into the desperate world of drug smugglers—and into the dangerous depths of passion.

For Michael and Darlene, good friends.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

“Watch your step, please. Please, watch your step. Thank you.” Liz took a ticket from a sunburned man with palm trees on his shirt, then waited patiently for a woman with two bulging straw baskets to dig out another one.

“I hope you haven’t lost it, Mabel. I told you to let me hold it.”

“I haven’t lost it,” the woman said testily before she pulled out the little piece of blue cardboard.

“Thank you. Please take your seats.” It was several more minutes before everyone was settled and she could take her own. “Welcome aboard the Fantasy, ladies and gentlemen.”

With her mind on a half dozen other things, Liz began her opening monologue. She gave an absentminded nod to the man on the dock who cast off the ropes before she started the engine. Her voice was pleasant and easy as she took another look at her watch. They were already fifteen minutes behind schedule. She gave one last scan of the beach, skimming by lounge chairs, over bodies already stretched and oiled slick, like offerings to the sun. She couldn’t hold the tour any longer.

The boat swayed a bit as she backed it from the dock and took an eastern course. Though her thoughts were scattered, she made the turn from the coast expertly. She could have navigated the boat with her eyes closed. The air that ruffled around her face was soft and already warming, though the hour was early. Harmless and powder-puff white, clouds dotted the horizon. The water, churned by the engine, was as blue as the guidebooks promised. Even after ten years, Liz took none of it for granted—especially her livelihood. Part of that depended on an atmosphere that made muscles relax and problems disappear.

Behind her in the long, bullet-shaped craft were eighteen people seated on padded benches. They were already murmuring about the fish and formations they saw through the glass bottom. She doubted if any of them thought of the worries they’d left behind at home.

“We’ll be passing Paraiso Reef North,” Liz began in a low, flowing voice. “Diving depths range from thirty to fifty feet. Visibility is excellent, so you’ll be able to see star and brain corals, sea fans and sponges, as well as schools of sergeant majors, groupers and parrot fish. The grouper isn’t one of your prettier fish, but it’s versatile. They’re all born female and produce eggs before they change sex and become functioning males.”

Liz set her course and kept the speed steady. She went on to describe the elegantly colored angelfish, the shy, silvery small-mouth grunts, and the intriguing and dangerous sea urchin. Her clients would find the information useful when she stopped for two hours of snorkeling at Palancar Reef.

She’d made the run before, too many times to count. It might have become routine, but it was never monotonous. She felt now, as she always did, the freedom of open water, blue sky and the hum of engine with her at the controls. The boat was hers, as were three others, and the little concrete block dive shop close to shore. She’d worked for all of it, sweating through months when the bills were steep and the cash flow slight. She’d made it. Ten years of struggle had been a small price to pay for having something of her own. Turning her back on her country, leaving behind the familiar, had been a small price to pay for peace of mind.

The tiny, rustic island of Cozumel in the Mexican Caribbean promoted peace of mind. It was her home now, the only one that mattered. She was accepted there, respected. No one on the island knew of the humiliation and pain she’d gone through before she’d fled to Mexico. Liz rarely thought of it, though she had a vivid reminder.

Faith. Just the thought of her daughter made her smile. Faith was small and bright and precious, and so far away. Just six weeks, Liz thought, and she’d be home from school for the summer.

Sending her to Houston to her grandparents had been for the best, Liz reminded herself whenever the ache of loneliness became acute. Faith’s education was more important than a mother’s needs. Liz had worked, gambled, struggled so that Faith could have everything she was entitled to, everything she would have had if her father…

Determined, Liz set her mind on other things. She’d promised herself a decade before that she would cut Faith’s father from her mind, just as he had cut her from his life. It had been a mistake, one made in naïveté and passion, one that had changed the course of her life forever. But she’d won something precious from it: Faith.

“Below, you see the wreck of a forty-passenger Convair airliner lying upside down.” She slowed the boat so that her passengers could examine the wreck and the divers out for early explorations. Bubbles rose from air tanks like small silver disks. “The wreck’s no tragedy,” she continued. “It was sunk for a scene in a movie and provides divers with easy entertainment.”

Her job was to do the same for her passengers, she reminded herself. It was simple enough when she had a mate on board. Alone, she had to captain the boat, keep up the light, informative banter, deal with snorkel equipment, serve lunch and count heads. It just hadn’t been possible to wait any longer for Jerry.

She muttered to herself a bit as she increased speed. It wasn’t so much that she minded the extra work, but she felt her paying customers were entitled to the best she could offer. She should have known better than to depend on him. She could have easily arranged for someone else to come along. As it was, she had two men on the dive boat and two more in the shop. Because her second dive boat was due to launch at noon, no one could be spared to mate the glass bottom on a day trip. And Jerry had come through before, she reminded herself. With him on board, the women passengers were so charmed that Liz didn’t think they even noticed the watery world the boat passed over.

Who could blame them? she thought with a half smile. If she hadn’t been immune to men in general, Jerry might have had her falling over her own feet. Most women had a difficult time resisting dark, cocky looks, a cleft chin and smoky gray eyes. Add to that a lean, muscular build and a glib tongue, and no female was safe.

But that hadn’t been why Liz had agreed to rent him a room, or give him a part-time job. She’d needed the extra income, as well as the extra help, and she was shrewd enough to recognize an operator when she saw one. Previous experience had taught her that it made good business sense to have an operator on your side. She told herself he’d better have a good excuse for leaving her without a crew, then forgot him.

The ride, the sun, the breeze relaxed her. Liz continued to speak of the sea life below, twining facts she’d learned while studying marine biology in college with facts she’d learned firsthand in the waters of the Mexican Caribbean. Occasionally one of her passengers would ask a question or call out in excitement over something that skimmed beneath them. She answered, commented and instructed while keeping the flow light. Because three of her passengers were Mexican, she repeated all her information in Spanish. Because there were several children on board, she made certain the facts were fun.