Risky Business by Nora Roberts Page A

the door of a shop and wave. “Señor Pessado,” she said. “He gives Faith candy they both think I don’t know about.”
    Jonas started to ask her about her daughter, then decided to wait for a better time. As long as she was being expansive, it was best to keep things less personal. “Do you know a lot of people on the island?”
    â€œIt’s like a small town, I suppose. You don’t necessarily have to know someone to recognize their face. I don’t know a lot of people in San Miguel or on the east coast. I know a few people from the interior because we worked at the hotel.”
    â€œI didn’t realize your shop was affiliated with the hotel.”
    â€œIt’s not.” She paused at a stop sign. “I used to work in the hotel. As a maid.” Liz gunned the engine and zipped across the intersection.
    He looked at her hands, lean and delicate on the handlebars. He studied her slender shoulders, thought of the slight hips he was even now holding. It was difficult to imagine her lugging buckets and pails. “I’d have thought you more suited to the front desk or the concierge.”
    â€œI was lucky to find work at all, especially during the off season.” She slowed the bike a bit as she started down the long drive to El Presidente. She’d indulge herself for a moment by enjoying the tall elegant palms that lined the road and the smell of blooming flowers. She was taking one of the dive boats out today, with five beginners who’d need instruction and constant supervision, but she wondered about the people inside the hotel who came to such a place to relax and to play.
    â€œIs it still gorgeous inside?” she asked before she could stop herself.
    Jonas glanced ahead to the large stately building. “Lots of glass,” he told her. “Marble. The balcony of my room looks out over the water.” She steered the bike to the curb. “Why don’t you come in? See for yourself.”
    She was tempted. Liz had an affection for pretty things, elegant things. It was a weakness she couldn’t allow herself. “I have to get to work.”
    Jonas stepped onto the curb, but put his hand over hers before she could drive away. “I’ll meet you at the house. We’ll go into town together.”
    She only nodded before turning the bike back toward the road. Jonas watched her until the sound of the motor died away. Just who was Elizabeth Palmer? he wondered. And why was it becoming more and more important that he find out?
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    By evening she was tired. Liz was used to working long hours, lugging equipment, diving, surfacing. But after a fairlyeasy day, she was tired. It should have made her feel secure to have had the young policeman identify himself to her and join her customers on the dive boat. It should have eased her mind that Captain Moralas was keeping his word about protection. It made her feel caged.
    All during the drive home, she’d been aware of the police cruiser keeping a discreet distance. She’d wanted to run into her house, lock the door and fall into a dreamless, private sleep. But Jonas was waiting. She found him on the phone in her living room, a legal pad on his lap and a scowl on his face. Obviously a complication at his office had put him in a nasty mood. Ignoring him, Liz went to shower and change.
    Because her wardrobe ran for the most part to beachwear, she didn’t waste time studying her closet. Without enthusiasm, she pulled out a full cotton skirt in peacock blue and matched it with an oversized red shirt. More to prolong her time alone than for any other reason, she fiddled with her little cache of makeup. She was stalling, brushing out her braided hair, when Jonas knocked on her door. He didn’t give her time to answer before he pushed it open.
    â€œDid you get the list?”
    Liz picked up a piece of notepaper. She could, of course, snap at him for coming in, but the end result