Risky Business

to fight. “I’ll deal with that.”
    Liz nodded because she was sure he would. “Do what you have to do. I’ll make arrangements for Luis to take over the shop for a day or two.”
    When she left him alone, Jonas closed his hands over the key again. It would open a lock, he thought. But there was another lock that mystified and frustrated him. Idly, he picked up the bear Liz had left on the bed. He looked from it to the key in his hand. Somehow he’d have to find a way to bring them together.

6
    A capulco wasn’t the Mexico Liz understood and loved. It wasn’t the Mexico she’d fled to a decade before, nor where she’d made her home. It was sophisticated and ultra modern with spiraling high-rise hotels crowded together and gleaming in tropical sunlight. It was swimming pools and trendy shops. Perhaps it was the oldest resort in Mexico, and boasted countless restaurants and nightclubs, but Liz preferred the quietly rural atmosphere of her own island.
    Still she had to admit there was something awesome about the city, cupped in the mountains and kissed by a magnificent bay. She’d lived all her life in flat land, from Houston to Cozumel. The mountains made everything else seem smaller, and somehow protected. Over the water, colorful parachutes floated, allowing the adventurous a bird’s-eye view and a stunning ride. She wondered fleetingly if skimming through the sky would be as liberating as skimming through the water.
    The streets were crowded and noisy, exciting in their own way. It occurred to her that she’d seen more people in the hour since they’d landed at the airport than she might in a week onCozumel. Liz stepped out of the cab and wondered if she’d have time to check out any of the dive shops.
    Jonas had chosen the hotel methodically. It was luxuriously expensive—just Jerry’s style. The villas overlooked the Pacific and were built directly into the mountainside. Jonas took a suite, pocketed the key and left the luggage to the bellman.
    “We’ll go to the bank now.” It had taken him two days to match the key with a name. He wasn’t going to waste any more time.
    Liz followed him out onto the street. True, she hadn’t come to enjoy herself, but a look at their rooms and a bite of lunch didn’t seem so much to ask. Jonas was already climbing into a cab. “I don’t suppose you’d considered making that a request.”
    He gave her a brief look as she slammed the cab door. “No.” After giving the driver their direction, Jonas settled back. He could understand Jerry drifting to Acapulco, with its jet-set flavor, frantic nightlife and touches of luxury. When Jerry landed in a place for more than a day, it was a city that had the atmosphere of New York, London, Chicago. Jerry had never been interested in the rustic, serene atmosphere of a spot like Cozumel. So since he’d gone there, stayed there, he’d had a purpose. In Acapulco, Jonas would find out what it was.
    As to the woman beside him, he didn’t have a clue. Was she caught up in the circumstances formed before they’d ever met, or was he dragging her in deeper than he had a right to? She sat beside him, silent and a little sulky. Probably thinking about her shop, Jonas decided, and wished he could send her safely back to it. He wished he could turn around, go back to the villa and make love with her until they were both sated.
    She shouldn’t have appealed to him at all. She wasn’t witty, flawlessly polished or classically beautiful. But she did appeal to him, so much so that he was spending his nights awake and restless, and his days on the edge of frustration. He wanted her,wanted to fully explore the tastes of passion she’d given him. He wanted to arouse her until she couldn’t think of accounts or customers or schedules. Perhaps it was a matter of wielding power—he could no longer be sure. But mostly, inexplicably, he wanted to erase the memory of how she’d looked when he’d walked into her daughter’s room and found her clutching a stuffed bear.
    When the cab rolled up in front of the bank, Liz stepped out on the curb without a word. There were shops across the streets, boutiques where she could see bright, wonderful dresses on cleverly posed mannequins. Even with the distance, she caught the gleam and glimmer of jewelry. A limousine rolled by, with smoked glass windows and quiet engine. Liz looked beyond the tall, glossy buildings to the mountains, and space.
    “I suppose this is the sort of place that