Risky Business Read Online Free PDF

mouth. “I might take you up on that. Meantime, when do you close?”
    â€œWhen I’m ready to.” The smile made a difference, she realized, and she couldn’t let it. In defense, she shifted her weight on one hip and sent him a look of mild insolence. “This is Cozumel, Mr. Sharpe. We don’t run nine to five here. Unlessyou want to rent some equipment or sign up for a tour, you’ll have to excuse me.”
    He reached in to close his hand over hers. “I didn’t come back to tour. Have dinner with me tonight. We can talk.”
    She didn’t attempt to free her hand but stared at him. Running a business had taught her to be scrupulously polite in any circumstances. “No, thank you.”
    â€œDrinks, then.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œMiss Palmer…” Normally, Jonas was known for his deadly, interminable patience. It was a weapon, he’d learned, in the courtroom and out of it. With Liz, he found it difficult to wield it. “I don’t have a great deal to go on at this point, and the police haven’t made any progress at all. I need your help.”
    This time Liz did pull away. She wouldn’t be sucked in, that she promised herself, not by quiet words or intense eyes. She had her life to lead, a business to run, and most important, a daughter coming home in a matter of weeks. “I won’t get involved. I’m sorry, even if I wanted to, there’d be nothing I could do to help.”
    â€œThen it won’t hurt to talk to me.”
    â€œMr. Sharpe.” Liz wasn’t known for her patience. “I have very little free time. Running this business isn’t a whim or a lark, but a great deal of work. If I have a couple of hours to myself in the evening, I’m not going to spend them being grilled by you. Now—”
    She started to brush him off again when a young boy came running up to the window. He was dressed in a bathing suit and slick with suntan lotion. With a twenty-dollar bill crumpled in his hand, he babbled a request for snorkeling equipment for himself and his brother. He spoke in quick, excited Spanish as Liz checked out the equipment, asking if she thought they’d see a shark.
    She answered him in all seriousness as she exchanged money for equipment. “Sharks don’t live in the reef, but they do visit now and again.” She saw the light of adventure in his eyes. “You’ll see parrot fish.” She held her hands apart to show him how big. “And if you take some bread crumbs or crackers, the sergeant majors will follow you, lots of them, close enough to touch.”
    â€œWill they bite?”
    She grinned. “Only the bread crumbs. Adios.”
    He dashed away, kicking up sand.
    â€œYou speak Spanish like a native,” Jonas observed, and thought it might come in handy. He’d also noticed the pleasure that had come into her eyes when she’d talked with the boy. There’d been nothing remote then, nothing sad or haunted. Strange, he mused, he’d never noticed just how much a barometer of feeling the eyes could be.
    â€œI live here,” she said simply. “Now, Mr. Sharpe—”
    â€œHow many boats?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHow many do you have?”
    She sucked in a deep breath and decided she could humor him for another five minutes. “I have four. The glass bottom, two dive boats and one for deep-sea fishing.”
    â€œDeep-sea fishing.” That was the one, Jonas decided. A fishing boat would be private and isolated. “I haven’t done any in five or six years. Tomorrow.” He reached in his wallet. “How much?”
    â€œIt’s fifty dollars a person a day, but I don’t take the boat out for one man, Mr. Sharpe.” She gave him an easy smile. “It doesn’t make good business sense.”
    â€œWhat’s your minimum?”
    â€œThree. And I’m afraid I don’t have anyone else lined up.