Hot Ice

playing on his side. “It can be arranged.”
    Jacques poked his thumb into the printing on his shirt. “Then I take you.”
    “Got a boat?”
    “The best boat in town. Built it myself. Got a hundred?”
    Doug looked down at his hands. They appeared competent and strong. “Fifty up front. We’ll be ready to go in the morning. Eight o’clock.”
    “Bring your lady here at eight o’clock. We’ll give her a kick.”
    Unaware of the pleasures in store for her, Whitney half dozed in the tub. Each time the water had cooled a bit, she had let in another stream of hot. As far as she was concerned, she could spend the night there. Her head rested against the back lip, her hair fell behind, wet and shining.
    “Trying for a world’s record?” Doug asked from behind her.
    With a gasp, she jerked up so that water lapped dangerously near the edge. “You didn’t knock,” she accused. “And I locked the door.”
    “I picked it,” he said easily. “Need to keep in practice. How’s the water?” Without waiting for an answer, he dipped in a finger. “Smells good.” His gaze skimmed over the surface. “Looks like your bubbles’re starting to give out.”
    “They’ve got a few minutes left in them. Why don’t you get rid of that ridiculous outfit?”
    Grinning, he began to unbutton his shirt. “Thought you’d never ask.”
    “On the other side of the screen.” Smiling, she examined her toe just above the water’s surface. “I’ll get out so you can have your turn.”
    “Shame to waste all that pretty hot water.” Putting a hand on either side of the tub, he leaned over her. “Since we’re partners, we should share.”
    “You think so?” His mouth was very close, and she was very relaxed. Reaching up she trailed a damp finger down his cheek. “Just what did you have in mind?”
    “A little”—gently, he brushed her lips with his— “unfinished business.”
    “Business?” She laughed and let her hand roam over his neck. “Want to negotiate?” On impulse she pulled, and off-balance, he slid into the tub. Water heaved over the side. Giggling like a schoolgirl, she watched as he swiped bubbles from his face. “Douglas, you never looked better.”
    Tangled with her, he struggled to keep from submerging. “She likes games.”
    “Well, you looked so hot and sweaty.” Generous, she offered the soap, then laughed again when he rubbed it over the shirt that clung to him.
    “Why don’t I give you a hand?” Before she could avoid it, he ran the soap down from her throat to her waist. “I seem to remember you owe me a back scrub.”
    Aware, and still amused, she took the soap from him. “Why don’t you—”
    Both of them tensed at the knock at the door.
    “Don’t move,” Doug whispered.
    “I wasn’t going to.”
    Untangling himself, he climbed out of the tub. Water ran everywhere. It swished in his shoes as he went to his pack and dug out the gun he’d buried in it. He hadn’t had it in his hands since their flight from Washington. He didn’t like the feel of it any more now.
    If Dimitri had found them, he couldn’t have cornered them more neatly. Doug glanced at the window behind him. He could be out and down in seconds. Then he glanced at the bamboo screen. In a tub of cooling water, Whitney sat naked and completely vulnerable. Doug gave a last regretful look at the window and escape.
    “Shit.”
    “Doug—”
    “Quiet.” Holding it close, barrel up, he moved to the door. It was time to try his luck again. “Yeah?”
    “Captain Sambirano, police. At your service.”
    “Shit.” Looking around quickly, Doug stuck the gun in the back waistband of his pants. “Your badge, Captain?” Coiled to spring, Doug opened the door a crack and examined the badge, then the man. He could spot a cop ten miles away. Reluctantly, he opened the door. “What can I do for you?”
    The captain, small, rotund, and very Western in dress, stepped inside. “I seem to have interrupted you.”
    “Having a bath.” Doug saw the puddle forming at his feet and reached for a towel behind the screen.
    “I beg your pardon, Mr.—”
    “Wallace, Peter Wallace.”
    “Mr. Wallace. It is my custom to greet anyone who passes through our town. We have a quiet community.” The captain gently tugged on the hem of his jacket. Doug noticed his nails were short and polished. “From time to time we entertain tourists who are not fully aware of the law or our customs.”
    “Always happy to cooperate with the