Clydemores planted the statue in your bags so that you could take the risk of smuggling it through Customs for them, then we have to assume they'll want to retrieve the goddess before you go home to Seattle."
Hannah frowned. "Well, yes, I suppose so. The Clyde-mores told me they live in San Diego."
"They do. Soon you'll all be going your separate ways. That means that sometime in the next few days the Clyde-mores will have to find a way of getting the statue out of your luggage. It will be interesting to see what they do when they discover it's not there."
Hannah licked her lower lip. "And if they don't make an attempt to steal the statue from my luggage?"
"Then we'll have to assume that you are working with them and that they plan on letting you carry it all the way back to the mainland. If they allow you to take it home, then I'll have to believe they intend seeing you again, won't I? That you are, in fact, a partner in their üttie scheme."
"You're saying that the only way I can convince you I'm innocent is if the Clydemores make an attempt to get that statue back before I leave for Seattle. What if they don't make the attempt? You're just going to assume that's evidence I'm working with them?"
"Makes sense, don't you think?"
"But that leaves me at the mercy of fate. Maybe the Clydemores won't make an attempt to steal the goddess back. Maybe they weren't the ones who put it in my luggage in the first place. Maybe they're innocent too! Have you thought of that?" she demanded wildly.
"Then you're going to look like the only guilty party, aren't you?" he drawled. "But to tell you the truth, I already have some doubts about you in the role of smuggler. There's something about you that doesn't fit the image."
"I thought you'd decided my frazzled tourist act was just that—an act!"
"It probably is," he agreed too easily. "But there's just a chance you're for real. And if you are, I'm willing to be convinced of your innocence."
"Thank you very much!" she snapped scathingly. "Are you always so distrustful of other people?"
He looked at her. "Yes. Especially women. Women are so very good at deceit, you see."
"No, I don't see! Of all the prejudiced, bigoted, chauvinistic attitudes!"
"I learned my lesson the hard way, but I learned it well, Hannah. Most modern women don't seem to need a man; they just use men for various and assorted reasons."
"Meaning men don't use women?" she snapped back.
He shrugged. "It happens."
"Gracious of you to admit it. A case of self-defense, I suppose?"
"Things weren't meant to be that way, Hannah," Jar-rett said intently.
"No?"
"No." He nodded toward the little goddess. "Ancient civilizations such as the one that produced that lady understood the real nature of women. And the danger in them. Women, in turn, understood that they needed men. Men protected them, provided them with homes, fathered their children, assumed the responsibilities of economic support…and kept the magic in them under control."
"In other words, the men kept the women barefoot and pregnant!" Hannah interrupted scathingly. "How perfectly ridiculous to romanticize the kind of master-slave relationship that existed between men and women in ancient times. Typical of a man to look back on such things with nostalgia. Don't expect modern women to share your point of view!"
"I'm well aware that they don't," he assured her quietly.
Hannah gave him a startled glance. "My God," she breathed with perception. "Some woman really worked you over good, didn't she?"
"I'm grateful to her. She taught me a lesson I'll never forget."
"I'll bet you don't have a lot of female friends! I can't see many intelligent women putting up with your antiquated philosophies of how a relationship between the sexes should work."
His mouth curved wryly as he acknowledged the insight. "No, I don't have a lot of female friends. At the moment I don't even have a lover. Are you interested in applying for the position?"
"Not on your life!"
Hannah frowned. "Well, yes, I suppose so. The Clyde-mores told me they live in San Diego."
"They do. Soon you'll all be going your separate ways. That means that sometime in the next few days the Clyde-mores will have to find a way of getting the statue out of your luggage. It will be interesting to see what they do when they discover it's not there."
Hannah licked her lower lip. "And if they don't make an attempt to steal the statue from my luggage?"
"Then we'll have to assume that you are working with them and that they plan on letting you carry it all the way back to the mainland. If they allow you to take it home, then I'll have to believe they intend seeing you again, won't I? That you are, in fact, a partner in their üttie scheme."
"You're saying that the only way I can convince you I'm innocent is if the Clydemores make an attempt to get that statue back before I leave for Seattle. What if they don't make the attempt? You're just going to assume that's evidence I'm working with them?"
"Makes sense, don't you think?"
"But that leaves me at the mercy of fate. Maybe the Clydemores won't make an attempt to steal the goddess back. Maybe they weren't the ones who put it in my luggage in the first place. Maybe they're innocent too! Have you thought of that?" she demanded wildly.
"Then you're going to look like the only guilty party, aren't you?" he drawled. "But to tell you the truth, I already have some doubts about you in the role of smuggler. There's something about you that doesn't fit the image."
"I thought you'd decided my frazzled tourist act was just that—an act!"
"It probably is," he agreed too easily. "But there's just a chance you're for real. And if you are, I'm willing to be convinced of your innocence."
"Thank you very much!" she snapped scathingly. "Are you always so distrustful of other people?"
He looked at her. "Yes. Especially women. Women are so very good at deceit, you see."
"No, I don't see! Of all the prejudiced, bigoted, chauvinistic attitudes!"
"I learned my lesson the hard way, but I learned it well, Hannah. Most modern women don't seem to need a man; they just use men for various and assorted reasons."
"Meaning men don't use women?" she snapped back.
He shrugged. "It happens."
"Gracious of you to admit it. A case of self-defense, I suppose?"
"Things weren't meant to be that way, Hannah," Jar-rett said intently.
"No?"
"No." He nodded toward the little goddess. "Ancient civilizations such as the one that produced that lady understood the real nature of women. And the danger in them. Women, in turn, understood that they needed men. Men protected them, provided them with homes, fathered their children, assumed the responsibilities of economic support…and kept the magic in them under control."
"In other words, the men kept the women barefoot and pregnant!" Hannah interrupted scathingly. "How perfectly ridiculous to romanticize the kind of master-slave relationship that existed between men and women in ancient times. Typical of a man to look back on such things with nostalgia. Don't expect modern women to share your point of view!"
"I'm well aware that they don't," he assured her quietly.
Hannah gave him a startled glance. "My God," she breathed with perception. "Some woman really worked you over good, didn't she?"
"I'm grateful to her. She taught me a lesson I'll never forget."
"I'll bet you don't have a lot of female friends! I can't see many intelligent women putting up with your antiquated philosophies of how a relationship between the sexes should work."
His mouth curved wryly as he acknowledged the insight. "No, I don't have a lot of female friends. At the moment I don't even have a lover. Are you interested in applying for the position?"
"Not on your life!"
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