Alias Smith And Jones. Kylie Brant

scenarios she’d considered before setting out on this trip, piracy somehow hadn’t occurred to her. She’d think the older man was pulling her leg if she hadn’t noted Jones’s reaction earlier. She quickly followed Pappy onto the bridge and saw Jones step away from the helm to allow the crew member to take over for him. Then he stepped aside, swept up a shirt and pulled it on, without bothering to button it. The sleeves were torn out of it, but that wasn’t what held Ana’s attention. It was the snub-nosed revolver that Jones tucked into his waistband at the base of his spine. He turned, stopping short when he saw her in the doorway.

      She moistened her lips. “Pappy said it might be pirates.”

      Jones cast a condemning glance the other man’s way, but said, “That’s always something we have to be prepared for, but this looks like a government cutter.”

      “Government? Whose government?”

      He brushed by her and prepared to descend to the deck. “That’s what I plan to find out. Follow me.”

      The invitation, though couched more as a command, surprised her. She’d expected him to order her below deck. Falling in step behind him, she asked, “Do I get a gun, too?”

      “Do I look stupid to you?”

      “I’m going to assume that’s a rhetorical question.”

      He stopped on the starboard side, his stance relaxed, at odds with the muscles she could feel bunched in his arms when she halted beside him. “Listen. This is important, and I want you to follow my lead. Don’t open your mouth unless I tell you to. Got it?”

      Under normal circumstances his terse undertone would have gotten her back up, but nothing about this scene was normal. “Got it.”

      The cutter reduced its speed and veered slightly away, to swing beside Nefarious. Ana stole a glance at Jones and nearly choked. Nothing but polite interest showed on his face, an expression that had been noticeably absent during the time they’d spent together.

      Schooling her countenance to reflect the same, her efforts were hampered by shock when Jones casually laid his arm around her shoulders. The unfamiliar weight of it made it difficult to concentrate on the four men aboard the other ship.

      “Ahoy. Nice day for a cruise,” Jones called out.

      Ana saw the four men on the other ship exchange some words, then one of them stepped forward. “Ahoy, Nefarious captain. May we ask your destination.”

      “Laconos.” The arm around her shoulders tightened. “Gonna check out the beaches there.”

      “You have chosen well.” The spokesman’s English was university precise. “Our country has the finest beaches in the hemisphere.” The man smiled as his companions stared silently. “We are looking for a lost tourist. He went missing several days ago and we believe he was injured. Have you seen any other water craft near here today?”

      “Yours is the first one,” Jones replied. He brushed his fingers along Ana’s shoulders in what would appear to be an absent caress. Nerve endings torched in the wake of his touch, and it was all she could do to suppress a shiver of reaction. Her involuntary response had her longing to grind her sandaled foot onto the top of his bare one, but she couldn’t remove her gaze from the men on the other ship.

      All of them were armed.

      None had taken the pains to hide it that Jones had. Each had a shoulder harness with a gun snugged inside it. She somehow doubted those were the only weapons on the ship.

      “If you should be approached by such a man during your stay on Laconos, we ask that you alert the local police. We have questions to ask of him before we allow him to go.”

      “Sure,” Jones replied. He glanced down at Ana, his hand shifting from her shoulder to skim down her back. “But we’re gonna be keeping pretty much to ourselves while we’re there.”

      His meaning couldn’t have been clearer. The other men smirked, one elbowing another and saying something that made all of them laugh. That, coupled with her involuntary reaction to his touch, compelled Ana to treat Jones with some of his own medicine. Turning toward him, she smiled up in his face, running her hand up his bare chest and then down again, skating her fingers along the tight skin of his belly above his waistband.

      Jones’s free hand came up to grasp hers, lover-like, but his grip was anything but caressing. His gaze dropped to hers, a warning in his eyes, one she chose to ignore. He’d started this charade. She was just playing along at his request.

      “Enjoy your stay on Laconos,” the man called, as the cutter began to move away.

      “Stay put,” he muttered, raising his hand to wave. “I think they need more convincing.”

      Frowning, Ana tipped her head back to ask what he meant an instant before his firm, sculpted lips covered her own.