Alias Smith And Jones. Kylie Brant

facing him and longing to dive back into his arms. “You wanted them to believe we were lovers looking for a secluded beach, didn’t you? They shouldn’t have any doubts after that display. Good thinking.”

      His answer was slow in coming. “Yeah, that’s what I’d planned. But I think things got a little out of hand.”

      Something in his voice alerted her. It took a great deal of effort to meet his eyes, and what she saw there had her swallowing involuntarily. “Well, you told me to follow your lead, so I did. You were very good, by the way. I’m sure they didn’t suspect a thing.”

      He shrugged, the gesture rife with frustration. “Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t such a great plan, after all. I mean, I don’t want you getting the wrong idea.”

      On a ten-point scale for offensiveness, that remark warranted at least a fifteen. Ana welcomed the anger that began to bubble in her veins, dissipating the desire that still lingered there. “The wrong idea?” She pretended confusion. “Oh, you mean about you wanting to go to bed with me. I thought we were beyond that. We were just acting, right? It’s not like either of us felt anything.”

      The flinty hardness in his eyes was all too familiar. “As long as you realize that.”

      “No problem.” Lifting a shoulder, she turned away, wandered toward the bridge. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I put more effort into kissing Robby Marlowe in fourth grade. While he lacked your technique, he made up for it in enthusiasm.” She felt, rather than heard, him fall into step behind her.

      “You must have been pretty precocious.”

      “Not really. It was a just a game of spin the bottle. Didn’t you ever play games as a kid?”

      “Not those kind.” He quickened his stride and reached the staircase before her, started up it. The sight of his hard buns encased in faded jean cutoffs had her throat going dry. What the man did to denim was positively sinful. So, surely it was that sight, in addition to the kiss, that had short-circuited her brain. Because once conscious thought struck her again, she froze in her tracks.

      If the government officials were looking for just a lost tourist, as they claimed, why would they all be armed? Weapons suggested they expected danger, or at least a fight from the man they sought. Which meant he wasn’t just an ordinary tourist.

      A chill coursed through her. Could the man they were searching for be Sam? The thought filled her with dread.

      We believe he may have been injured….

      Ana cautioned herself not to jump to conclusions, but she had to face facts. If the “missing tourist” was Sam, the Laconos government had no intention of letting him off the island. Which made it all the more imperative that she find her brother. Before the police did.

      Intent on getting some answers from Jones, she hurried in his wake up to the bridge. When she appeared, he and Pappy broke off the conversation they were holding in undertones and looked at her. “It wasn’t pirates, Pappy,” she announced as she strolled into the room. “It was just a government cutter from Laconos. Did Jones tell you?”

      She didn’t miss the warning look Jones shot the other man.

      “Not to worry, miss. Laconos government very friendly to tourists.”

      Not so friendly, Ana thought, if they were responsible for wounding the man they sought. Rather than voicing the thought, she said disingenuously, “They must be if they’re going to the trouble of trying to find an injured tourist. But I don’t understand why they would be looking for him so far from shore. If he got this far, he obviously isn’t hurt badly. He wouldn’t need their help.”

      Taking the helm from Pappy, Jones turned his back to her. But she was certain the lack of expression in his voice would be mirrored in his face. “They’re just being cautious. If he got hurt in their country they’re probably going to want to file a report.”

      Pappy slipped from the bridge and went down the stairway. Ana didn’t spare a glance for the older man, however. She needed all her wits about her to deal with Jones. “If that’s all it was, why did you feel compelled to enact that little scenario for them?” She watched his back stiffen, one vertebra at a time. But his tone was even enough when he answered.

      “Just didn’t figure you’d want to be delayed any more than necessary. A ship can get tangled up in a lot of red tape if government officials take an interest in it or its passengers. Might take hours to answer all the questions they have about your plans and frequency of visits.” He shrugged out of his shirt, tossed it aside and took the gun from his waistband and put it back in the drawer before him. With an obvious desire to change the subject, he said, “It’s another hour to the island. Do you want to try one of the beaches?”

      “No, I think I’ve gotten enough sun for the day. Let’s just put into port and I’ll explore the city for a few hours.” She didn’t believe his explanation for a minute. If Jones was anxious to avoid questions with the Laconos government, it didn’t have anything to do with delaying her. It was much more likely that he wanted to avoid having his ship under scrutiny.

      And right now she could only guess at the reason for that reluctance.

      The Laconos port authority seemed to have doubled their paperwork and questions since the last time Jones had put into port there. He’d been dealing with a couple of the agents for fifteen minutes when the two men appeared to get distracted. Following the direction of their gazes, he silently cursed when he saw the object of their focus. Ann Smith was descending the plank board to the dock.

      He analyzed the subject of their fascination with a critical eye. The woman certainly wasn’t beautiful, although her looks probably defined the word cute. Short straight nose, wide blue eyes and lips that had a tendency to pout when they weren’t curved as they were now. Her bright head of hair gleamed in the sun. She ought to be wearing a hat. She was too fair-skinned to have built up much of a resistance to the sun.