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carpet muffled his steps as he crossed his office, stepped over Jonah’s feet, and replaced the box carefully on its mahogany shelf.
    The room smelled pleasantly of old paper, Gurkha’s premier, Louis XIII Cognac-infused cigars, and fresh salt air. Nick’s office was filled with history. Old charts, notebooks, maps, hundreds of books, and small, priceless artifacts found on various dives throughout the years. The space was crowded, aged, and just right. Unlike the rest of his ship, which was sleek, modern, and minimalist, this cabin could’ve existed, exactly as it was, centuries before. It was the place he felt most at home.
    He crossed to the window. The back fin of the helicopter sitting on his landing platform was just visible from this angle. The princess had to have spent a great deal of time and money tracking him down and hiring the helicopter. So she couldn’t be all that hard up for cash.
    “Question is,” he mused, “take her at face value? Or lump her into the current situation?”
    “Justifiably paranoid, all things considered.” Jonah’s words came slowly, as he mulled. “But don’t you think she’s too … well, obvious to be part of the diamond thing?”
    Obvious was an understatement.
    Nick dismissed the easy answer out of hand. “That might be exactly the point,” he said. “Why else would she be here? She’s either been sent to keep me distracted for the duration or the king wants a close eye on me.” And his money.
    “Then whoever sent her didn’t do their homework on you,” Jonah responded mildly. “It would take much more than a great pair of legs to get past you. You juggle ninety-six things at once, and make it look like you’re only focused on one at a time. And even that one thing looks like it bores you into a coma.” Jonah gave Nick a crooked smile and swiveled in his chair.
    “It’s uncanny,” Jonah continued cheerfully. “You’re not a guy who’s easily distracted. Okay, let me rephrase that. You’re not a guy who ever gets distracted. Focus is your middle name.” His lips twitched. “ Spock is your first name.”
    “Multitasking,” Nick said, unruffled by the neat assessment. He shot a quick glance at his multifunction watch.
    Jonah rolled his eyes. “The point is, anyone could tell you that having a beautiful, sexy woman shoved under your nose while you pretend you don’t know a fortune in diamonds is being smuggled on board your own ship is a waste of everyone’s time. Especially yours.” He paused. “Unless you think you can learn something from her.”
    “I don’t believe I said she was either beautiful or sexy.” Although she was both. Sex appeal shimmered around her like some kind of hallucinogenic drug. Nick picked up an antique jewel-handled letter opener, sliding his thumb across the sharp edge. “She could be a modern day Mata Hari.”
    “See, paranoid is all well and good, but let’s not get certifiable,” Jonah said wryly, scratching his stubbled cheek. “Look, whatever she is or isn’t, you can handle it. She might be exactly who she claims to be.”
    “Which is?” he asked, curious for Jonah’s take on the matter. He half-expected “sex-kitten” to be at the top of his captain’s list.
    Jonah disappointed him. “A concerned sister to one of your most prestigious investors.”
    “Maybe,” Nick allowed. “Hell, probably. You’re right. One way to find out what she really wants is to keep on eye on her.” The thought unsettled him, and he tossed the letter opener to the desk with a metallic clatter. “I don’t mind the cloak-and-dagger distraction, but the situation could go from sunshine to shit in a heartbeat.”
    “Come on, Nick,” Jonah braced a foot against the bottom of the desk to slow his lazy swing. “Any dive could wind up the same way.”
    This was different. “I can’t afford unknowns in this particular equation,” Nick told him, running a hand over his freshly shaved jaw, glad to have gotten rid of the