Sweet Revenge

hotel.”
    When he brought himself back and glanced at her, she was smiling. “You miss it.”
    “Only in rare moments.” He flipped his cigarette into the spray. “I’m a businessman first, Addy. It was time to get out of the business. Spencer, he’s my superior, had come too close too often.”
    “They knew about you, yet they let you in.”
    “Better a wolf in the fold than loose, I suppose. Sooner or later you get sloppy. It takes only one mistake.”
    She looked back at the sea with its turbulent water. “I have only one more job, and I’ve no intention of being sloppy.”
    He said nothing. With a little time, a little care, he was certain he could persuade her to let it go. If talk didn’t work, there were roadblocks he could construct. “What do you say to a siesta, then Christmas dinner?”
    “All right.” She rose, carrying her sandals by the straps. “But I get to drive back.”
    Perhaps it was foolish to fuss, but she couldn’t resist. It felt good to linger in a scented bath and dust on clouds of fragrant powder. These were peculiarly women’s habits, a seed of which had been sown in her in the harem. She enjoyed taking a long, leisurely time preparing, though her evening with Philip could hardly be called a date. She knew that a good part of the reason he was making himself so available as an escort was to watch her. She might have told him she had no other business on the island, but there was no reason he should believe her. In any case, being with him served her purpose. Or so she told herself as she chose a thin white dress with yards of skirt and no back. She would be as free with her time with him as he was with her. In that way, he wouldn’t be on guard when she slipped out of the country … tomorrow.
    There were plans to be finalized, plans she’d begun to make a decade ago. Soon after the new year she would go back to Jaquir. She clipped stones on her ears that were as cold as her thoughts and as false as the image she would present to her father.
    But for tonight she would enjoy the lingering light of a tropical sunset and the whisper of calm seas.
    When Philip knocked on her door she was ready. He, too, wore white, with his shirt a splash of blue against his jacket.
    “There’s something to be said for spending winters in hot climates.” He ran his hands down her bare shoulders. “Did you rest?”
    “Yes.” She didn’t tell him she’d made a quick trip to theEl Grande to pack her things there and check out. At his touch she felt the frustrated confusion of a horse who’s spurred and curbed at the same time. “And like a tourist, my thoughts rarely go beyond the next meal.”
    “Good. Before we go I have something for you.” He drew a small velvet box from his pocket. This time she did step back as though she’d been pinched.
    “No.” Her voice was cooler than she wanted it to be, but he took her hand and placed the box in it.
    “It’s not only rude to refuse a Christmas gift, it’s bad luck.” He didn’t add that he’d had to pave his way with bribes and tips until he’d found a jeweler who would open his shop on the holiday.
    “It wasn’t necessary.”
    “Should it have been?” he countered. “Come now, Adrianne, a woman like you should know how to accept a present graciously.”
    He was right, of course, and she was being a fool. She flipped open the box and studied the pin resting on white satin. Not resting, she thought, stalking, like the panther it was, richly black, sharply carved with its ruby eyes on fire.
    “It’s beautiful.”
    “It made me think of you. Something we have in common.” He pinned it on her dress with the ease of a man accustomed to doing such things.
    She needed to take it lightly, and smiled. “From one cat burglar to another?” But her fingers strayed up to stroke it.
    “From one restless soul to another,” he corrected her, and slipping the box back into his pocket, took her hand.
    They dined on delicately grilled lobster and sharp, fruity wine while mariachis strolled singing songs of love and longing. From their table by the window they could watch people walk along the seawall and small boys, always eager for a coin, loiter by the row of cabs waiting to open a door.
    While they ate, the sun went down in a blaze of color, and the moon, less rushed, rose majestically.
    She asked him about his childhood and was surprised when he didn’t evade or pass it off with a joke.
    “My mother sold tickets at the