Chapter Eleven

There were twenty high rollers on board the Queen of the Mediterranean,give or take, andZane had playedpoker with them all.

Mostofthemwereaboveaverageplayers.Theywouldn'tbein theprivateroomofthisexclusivepay-to-play loungeifthey weren't.A fewwereexcellentplayers,whether by virtueofskill,intuition,orthe ephemeralLady Luck, itdidn't matter. And then there were the experts.

Zane hadn't yet decided if he'd count himself one of those, simplybecauseVartanArmenandLorenzoBianchiweren't,soZane hadn't pushed himselfagainstthe pros he knew wellenough to be wary of.

TwoofthoseZaneconsideredexpertssatatthetablenowwith him, Bianchi,and Armen, making a flexible table of five.Luckily,he washere torelaxandschmooze,notto win.Considering whata roller coasterhisday hadbeensofar,hecoulduseanuneventfulnightatthe table. Zane shifted slightly, trying to ease the milddiscomfortfromhis ratheractiveafternoon.ThinkingaboutleavingTyallwarmandsoft and sated in their bed made Zane smile.

"Areyouenjoyingyour evening, Mr. Porter?" Bianchi asked.

"Definitely, Signor Bianchi, definitely," Zane drawled as the dealer approached the table with several new packs of cards.

Seeing theship'screwactually involvedinthehigh-stakes gambling operationsurprised Zane the firstnight.Butitturnedoutthe dealerswerepaidaboveandbeyondtheirnormalsalarytoworkon their off hoursfor the players funding theirowngames in this private lounge.Theshipkindlydonateduseofcardsandchipsofmuchhigher denominationsthanany"normal"passengerwouldseeinthegame room proper.

Money really could buy more money.

Hereintheprivategame,itwasplayer'schoiceasthey went around the table. They played the old classics five-card draw and seven-card stud, the popular stars Texas Hold'em and Omaha HiLo, and occasionally variations like Crazy Pineapple and Follow the Bitch.

Crunching the numbersandfiguring the percentageswasinaway soothing forZane.Itwas easy,itwasn'tlife-threatening,and he didn't even have to stress about the money. Granted, it was rather appalling to play $5,000antesor$6,000bigblinds,butafterawhiletheamountof money didn't mean anything anymore.

It all came down to the chips.

Zane lookedlazily aroundthe table, cataloging whathe knew about his opponents. Expert Numero Uno playedaggressively andliked to bet big and bet often, but he bowed out early if he didn't have the cards. He preferred seven-cardstud. The lobes of his earsflushed red when he got excited. Expert Numero Dos playedevenly, always stayed in to see thebulkofthecards,and ran adecentbluff. She liked Texas Hold'em. But she had a bad habit of tapping one of her manicured fingernails on something when she had goodcards. Armen was stoned-faced—big surprise—butjustasstuck-up a card player asZanefigured him a businessman. He always chose five-card stud to force the other playerstoante.Armendidn'tstay inlongorriskmuchunless percentages were on hisside. And Bianchi, he was as amenable a poker player as he wasa person, laughing and smiling and talking, which was nearly asimpossibleto seethroughasZane'sownemotionlessmask. Bianchienjoyedthepokervariations,somethingdifferenteverytime. But,asTy hadpointedout,herubbedhiscufflinkswhenhewasonto something.

Ty's observationhadreallymadeZanepauseandthinkabout what he was doing.Drinking aside, he knew hecould outplay anyone here, if he put his mind to it. He knew the numbers, he was patient, and he literally had nothing to lose.

For the first hourand a half or so,Zaneplayedconservatively, stuck to Evian overice witha lemontwist,andkeptan eyeon theother players, confirming tellsand, even more importantly, confirming mood. Even the best player wasmore likely to betray himself if he was excited or upset orangry ratherthan content with theworld. Thecards didn't matter, because a player brought mood with him to the table.

Zane alsoused the timeto begin establishing a fake tell.It wasa risk, but one that had paid off in the past, anditdidn't hurt anything to use itaslongashestayedconsistent.Being theslick, confidentCorbin Porter,Zanewassurethemanwouldhaveatell.Hehadtoomuchof an ego not to. Zanechose something subtle: a brief caress for cards he was happy with. Otherwise his hands stayed on the table in clear view.

Then Zane got serious.

Fold if you don't have apair or better by the third card in five-card stud. In seven-cardstud, more hands are won by the highest two pair—or even single pair—than by straights, flushes, or bigger displays. Five-card draw is all about percentages and aces. Play to scoop the pot in Omaha Hi Lo; getting half barely keeps you in the game. Play strong, high hands very aggressivelyin Texas Hold'em or go ahead and fold 'em. It's all about the numbers.

It's all about the chips.

And Zane started raking them in.

NumeroUnogotfrustratedearly by watchinghischipstacks dwindleandlethisemotionsgetthebetterofhim.Zaneputhimout with a jack-high straightafter a round of Texas Hold'em, and the man left.Bianchistartedfolding outmore than he stayedin,contentto drink hiswhiskey andplay commentatorafterlosing thebulkofhischipsto Numero Dos's nines over sevens in a particularly brutal round of seven-card stud.

Zane's chip stacksgrew.Numero Dos held her own until Armen duped her out of a couple hundred thousand dollars in chips by—in Zane's opinion—bluffing her into folding. So thatleft ArmenandZane with the bulk of the chips between them, and itwasZane's turn to choosethegame.Justwhathehadbeenwaitingfor.Theprodigious chip stacksmeantArmen would be more willing toplay, ifZane's profile of him was correct. What Zane didn't know about the hard-to-read Mr. Armen was if the man would be goaded into action.

"Five-card draw. For it all."

Armen raised one brow as Numero Dos let out a harsh breath and fannedherselfwhileBianchistartedcountingchipstacks."Doyou know how much money is on the table, Mr.Porter?" Bianchiasked,no small amount of warning in his voice.

"I am aware," Zane saideasily, his eyes still locked on Armen's.

"Whatyouproposetakesnoskill,Mr.Porter,onlydumbluck," Armen observed.

"Oh,I'm feelingluckytonight,Mr.Armen,"Zaneassuredhim, despite the spikeof annoyancethe implicationcaused. Armen was stalling, andZane couldsee the wrinklesforming at the corners of the man's eyes.ThenZanedeliberatelysmirked,throwingArmenanall-out dare.

Armen sniffed."Very well."

Theybothpushedtheirchipsintothecenterofthetable,andthen Zane sat back with his glass of Evian and noddedto the dealer.

"Will a fold be a redeal,gentlemen?" the dealer asked.

Zane looked to Armen with one of Corbin's full-of-it smiles.

"No redeal," Armen saidshortly.

"Just short of a $500,000 pot," the dealer announced withouta blink,andheshuffledthedeckexpertly beforebeginningtodeal.It really wasn'tfair,Zanereflectedashepickeduphiscards.Armen didn't know that Zane had no stake in the money.

The numbers whizzed through his mind as the action went down.

Odds are one in two to receive one pair or higher.

He watchedArmenriffle his cards beforeglancing at hisown. Zane didn't bother to sort them.

Odds on being dealt a pair of jacks or higher are one in five.

There was nobidding to be done.Armen hadfirst drawand took two new cards.

The odds against makingthree of akind when drawing two cards to a pair and a kicker are twelve to one.

Zane dropped threecards face downforthe dealerto replace, pickedupthenewones,gavethemalook,thensetthesmallstackon the table face down. Hefocused the entire weightof his attention on Armen.

When drawing three cards to one pair, the oddsagainst making a full house are ninety-seven to one.

Overthechips,Armenwatchedhimclosely foranysign,any hint that would help.He broke eyecontactto briefly glance atZane's cards, and his lips compressed hard in a subtle display of pique.

AbruptlyArmen stood, gave Zane a death glare, dropped his cards face down on the table, straightened his tie, and walked away.

Zanewatchedhimgo,inwardlyamazed,andthenherealized whatArmenhadseen:hewasstrokinghiscardseversoslightlywith his thumb.

Numero Dos leanedto flip over Armen'scards: three tens with an ace kicker. Nice.

Zanejustsmiledatherinnocentlyandlaidhispalmdownover his lonely pair of queens.

Aftertrading several traysof chips infor crediton his account,Zane leftthecasinoandgameroom,admittedly flyingalittlehigh.Itwasn't every day amanwon$500,000onasort-of-unintentionalpokerbluff. Bianchihad tried toentice himintoacongratulatory roundof that very fine whiskey,andthoughZanehadbeensupremely tempted,he had made hisexcuses, claiming anall-too-true desire to return to hislover for a not-so-small celebration of their own.

Still, after Bianchi's offer, the cravings kicked in, and Zane decided towander thepromenadeand windowshop a little on his way back to the stateroom.

Hepassed by thekitschyyetpricey touristshopsandlingeredat the leather store, not thathe needed another jacket.Zane wouldn't part withhis,ripsandtearsandall.He'dkeptitsinceTy tosseditathimin NewYorkCityduringtheserialmurdercasethathadalmostkilled them both.

As he moved on,a smallnewsstand with a stockof books caught his attention, butZaneresisted the lure of the paperbackswitha sigh, although he didlook at acrossword puzzle book and think of getting it forTy,justtolaughover.Heturnedacorneronhiswaytothestairs andwashalfway pastthebig-ticketjewelry storewhenadullshine caught Zane's eye. He stopped and idly glanced over the various jewelry cases, and his eyes settled on one understated display.

The details of the piece came into focusas he neared the case, and one of theubiquitouscrew memberswas there topull it out and present it without him even asking.

An elegant,polished silver slide pendant hung ona cord of tightly wound black leather,setoff by the gray velvetof the display stand.The hand-tooled pendant wasroughly the size and shape of a nickel,and the inset boasted a two-tone compass rose.Eachof the eight points terminated in a tiny diamond chip set into the round seal.

It was bought, paid for, and wrapped up before Zane gave a thoughttowhathewasdoing.Ifhewerefeelingparticularly romantic, hemighthaveadmittedhesometimesthoughtofTyashiscompass. But those words weren'tpassing his lips. Not today,anyway. Not until he knew why he thoughtthat. Not until it stopped scaring him.

Afterexperiencingamomentofpanicovertheimpulserather than the actual purchase,Zanedecided on qualifying it asa Christmas present. He couldget hispartner—his lover—a nice Christmas present, right?Itmightnotbe Ty's style,butZanedidn't care.Aftersettlingon that, all he sawas he walked back to thestateroom with the small packageinhispocketwasthecompassrosenestledagainstthehollow of Ty's throat.

Ty hadn't realizedhe'd fallenasleepuntilheheardthedoorclick. Hejerkedawakeandreachedtothesideofthebed,wherenormally a gunwouldhavebeennestledbetweenthemattressandboxsprings.

Instead,hefoundtheroundededgeofthecircularbedhewouldnever grow accustomed to, and he went toppling over the side to the floor.

Zane's "Corbin"voicecamefloatingintothecabin."Honey,I'm home."

"Christ,"Tymutteredashepushedhimselfupandpeeredover the edge of the bed to look at Zane.

Zane sauntered—and there wasno other word for it but sauntered—acrosstheroom,onehandinhis pantspocket, hissuit jacketcasually unbuttoned."Andhowwasyourafternoon,doll?"he asked with a wink.

"I wasenjoying anap,Ithink,"Ty mutteredasheclimbedtohis feet. "God,you'resmug. What have you done?"

Zane grinned. "I had a good day at the tables."

"Ohyeah?"Tyasked,cuttingoffthewordswithayawnashe stretched his arms high above his head.

"Ohyeah,"Zanedrewout.HemovedtostandinfrontofTy. "Tell me, baby. What wouldyou do with $500,000?"

Tyraisedoneeyebrow."I'd... probablyputitintosavingswith all the other money I never spend. Why?"

"Thereisn't anythingyouwanttosplurgeon?"Zaneaskedashe satdownontheedgeofthebed."Maybeifwespendsomeofitnow, theBureauwon't findoutaboutit."Thatsmilewasstillinplace,and he was clearly holding back laughter.

Ty blinked rapidly at him, shocked by his words. Zane had brought him a $10,000 poker chip a couple of nights ago, just to watch Ty goggle.Butthis?"Areyousayingyouactually wonhalfamillion dollars?" he asked incredulously.Zane nodded and shrugged one shoulder.Tysatdownhardbesidehim."Areyoushittingme?"he asked with a laugh. "Jesus, Zane. Let'sgo to Vegas when this is over."

Zanelaughedaloud."ToldyouIwasgoodatpoker."Heshook hishead and stoodagain,starting topulloff hisjacket."I'llwarnyou, though. Armen'sgoing to be cranky for awhile."

Tygroanedandfloppedtohisback."He'sprobablygoingto order Del to killyou now. I hopeyou boughtyourself something nice."

"I'vegotyourback,"Zanesaidasheadvancedonthebedand kneltonthemattress,onekneeoneachsideofTy'sthighs,andhe leanedoverhim."Andyourfront,"hedrawled."C'mon, doll.It wouldn'tbe right if we didn't go out and celebrate tonight."

TysnortedandshookhisheadashelookedupintoZane's eyes. "Or,"hesaidslowly,"wecouldstay inandcelebrate.Spendyourill-gottengainsonroomservice,nothavetoworry aboutbeingkilled,and I could drop the accent for the night."

Zane's gazeturnedhungryandintenseashefocusedonTy.Ty loved that look in his eyes. "I could be easily swayed to that idea."

Ty bit his lip and raised his chin just slightly, shifting his shouldersininvitation.HeandZanebothknewhedidn't haveto actuallysayanythingtoswayZane.AndZanedidn'tdisappoint;he leaneddowntokissTyrathersweetly."It's notveryoftenIcouldsay, ‘You can have anything you want,baby,'"Zane practically purred. "But now is one of those times."

Tysmiledserenely,tryingtokeepthehintofmelancholyoutof it.HeknewZanemeantwhathesaid.TheBureauhadnoway of knowinghe'd justwonallthatmoney.Theycouldgooutandblowit all,andnoonewould bethewiser.ButTy hadneverbeenavery materialistic man.

"Only thing I want is you," he whispered.

Afterthescubadivingscaretheday before,they agreedtoskipthe WaveRunnerridesandsnorkelinginfavoroftryingtofigureouthow tobreaksomething—anything—inthisseriouslyfucked-upcase.Ty hadknowngoinginthattheywouldn't seemuchaction.Theywereon theperiphery ofalargerinvestigation;they knewthat.ButheandZane weren'tlikely candidatesto sit around and do nothing for long.

There wasa meal tonight with everyone in attendance.Butwhile they weresuretolearnaboutthecoming"meeting"thatwasplannedat thatdinner,Typreferredtobeastepahead.Itwasdrivinghimcrazy thattheycouldn'teventakebabysteps.Sohewasscouringthebooks DelPorter hadusedto make notes,trying togleananything ofuse from them.

So far he'd been unsuccessful.

He had proposed a searchof Armen's suite, but Zane had vetoed the idea. Ty was still of the opinion that they would find the information theywere after in Armen's stateroom, but he couldn't make thesearchalone.Zane wasn't inthe mood to hear him out,and probablyforgoodreason,consideringtheveryrealpossibility that Armenwastryingtokilloneorbothofthem.AndTy wouldfindno help from their support team. He andZane had triedyetagain to hunt down one of theFBI teammembers,tonoavail.Somesupportteam. WhenTy ranintoany ofthoseyahoos,hewasgoingtogivetheman earful. Earful of pencil tip, preferably.

Hecouldn'tmakeheadsortailsofthegibberishwritteninthe books,andtryingwasstartingtogivehimaheadache.Finally,he tossed the book onto the table and leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing histempleswithhisfingertips.Whenthatdidn'thelp,he took one handand searchedfor the pressure pointbetween his thumb and forefinger, squeezing hard. Warm hands settledon his shouldersand began to knead at the baseof his skull, workingat thestiff, sore musclesinhisneck.Ty groanedsoftly,continuingtosqueezeatthe pressure pointuntilthat and the fingersat hisneck began to force the headache back.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"You're stressing,"Zane said. "More thanusual.Not that it's unwarranted."

Ty sighedheavily.He puthishand near hishead,searching for an analogy thatZanecouldidentifywith."I'mjust... gettingtoomuch input," he tried in a frustrated voice.

"Too many details, not enough context," Zane said.

"Yes," Ty saidin relief. He leaned more into Zane'shands. "Normally I'd be profiling thecriminal,but wedon't even have a real crime. We can't look too close at the rock wallorscuba incidentsor we blowourcover.Andwithoutanyconcreteinformation,anythingwe can glean from all this is just... educated guesses."

"Not even allthat educated, for allwe're in the dark and cut off fromresources."ZanecontinuedtomassagetheknotsinTy's neck, andhisfingerswerewarm,catchingonTy'sskin.Tycranedhisneck to look up at him, resting the top of his head against Zane's belly.

Zane stoppedthe rubbing and looked down tomeet Ty's eyes. "Too hard?" He gently pressed his fingers against one of the recalcitrant knots.

"I'mnotassoreasI was," Ty murmured. "Itjustfeelsgood.Are you still opposed to searching Armen's suite?"

Zanekeptupthepetting,thefingersapplyingmorepressure."I thinkthe chance of finding something useful isless than the chance of getting hurt,"hemurmured.Itwasn'treally ananswertothequestion. But it wasn't the flatno he'dgiven Ty earlier.

TyraisedoneeyebrowinthemischievoussmirkthatZanewas probably alltoofamiliarwith.Itprobably lookedoddupsidedown. "That's a solid maybe."

"Thereareahellofalotofquestionswedon'thaveanswersfor totryasearchlikethat.Wedon't evenknowifwecangetintothe room without the key card. Do you plan to pickArmen's pocket?"

"I'mactually quitegoodatthat," Ty toldhimfrankly.Hemoved, slidingawayfromZane's handsregretfully.Hestoodandturnedto face Zane, and he wincedas he said, "I kind of hada different idea."

Zane's brow furrowed."What?"

"Well..." Ty glancedtothe balcony andcluckedhistongue."Let me showyou." He waved for Zane to follow him. He stepped out onto thebalcony andpointedatthethickpartition thatdividedthebalconies from their neighbors. "Armen's suite is right next to ours, right?"

"That'sthesuite we see himgoing inandoutof, anyway," Zane allowed as he moved to look at the balconies.

"Andtheonehetoldushewasin.SoIfiguremaybeIcanjust... swing over onto his balcony."

Zaneglanced over the edgeof therailing andlooked away with a roll of his eyes and agrimace. The ocean was quite a distance below. The fall would likely be... painful.

"Okay,"Zane hedged."Getting in isn't much of a challenge.But gettingArmenoutmightbe.AsfarasI cantell,hegoestodinnerand poker games, and that's it."

Ty shrugged."Sogotoapokergame.MakesureI haveatleast thirty minutes to get in and get out."

"There's not another scheduled tournament until the end of the cruise," Zane said. "He's made it clear he's not interested in socializing."Hehuffedandwalkedbackintothecabin,handsonhis hips.

"So... askhimtomeetyoutotalkbusiness.Hell,maybeyou'll learn something."

Zanedidn'tlooktoohappy,buthedidn'tstompontheidea."I stillthinkit'sabadidea.Wedon'tknowwhoelsecouldbeinthere, and they've tried to killyou twice already."

"Okay," Ty agreedwithathoughtfulnod.Heglancedatthe partition and stepped back into the suite, closing the door behind him. "So wewaituntildinner.Every timeI've seenhimatdinner,he hashis bodyguardswithhim.Idoubttheyleaveamanbehindalone.Armen doesn't seem the type to trust anyone that much.I'll leave dinner early for some reason, andyou make sure he stays there for at leasthalf an hour."

Zane nodded, and whenhe spoke, his voice was reluctant. "All right.I guess that's aboutas gooda setup as we'regoing toget."

Ty gave him a pleased smile. "Thankyou."

"I won'tbe able to backyouup ifI'mplayingnice with Armenat the table," Zane pointedout.

"I canhandleit," Ty assuredhim.Hesteppedcloserandclapped himontheshoulder."Igotalongprettywellbeforeyoucamealong, remember?"

"I'm thinking about a few days ago," Zane murmured.

DolceandGabbana. Ty cockedhisheadandsmiled warmly.He stepped closer andpulledZane near to himby hisbeltloops,then pressedhisnoseandlipstoZane'scheek.Zanesighedquietlyandslid hisarmsaroundTy'swaistasheturnedhisfacetocatchakissonhis lips instead.

"Youlookgoodtoday,Zane," Ty commented inalowvoice, smiling. "You look like bait."

"Excuse me?" Zane's voice rose at the end, and he leanedbackto look at him.

Ty just looked at him, a small smile curling his lips.

"Whatareyou planning now?" Zane asked, looking at Ty through narrowed eyes."AndwhatdoyoumeanI lookgoodtoday?"hetacked on.

Ty laughedlightlyandkissedZaneagain,justbecausehecould. Thenhesteppedaway."Weneedtotry againtofindourbackupbefore dinner,"hetoldZaneasheturnedaway."Thatshouldfrustrateus both."

Thecrystal lowball glasses held the finest in Scotch whiskey. Distilled on the Isle of Skye eighteen years ago, with additional spices introduced to produce a distinctive flavor that was often described as fiery,theliquorhada darkcolorandsingular nose,nottobe mistaken for any other whiskey.

The bartender setthe glasses on a tray atoptwo navy blue napkins to match the ship's flags. The other drinks intended for the table stood on green and gold napkins to match, and he signaled to the waitress that the tray was ready.

The bartender moved on to the next order. A man seated at the bar turned to lookatthedrinks, then carefully peeredoverhisshoulderto checkthewaitress'sprogress.Shewasnowherenear,andhefurtively moved to open the hidden packet he slid out of his sleeve and hastily dribbled the contents into each of the lowballglasses.

Thepoisonhadnosmellandverylittletaste.ThesaltyTalisker the extravagantItalian had orderedfor the twogay menwould mask it nicely.

He took outanother packet,preparing to seedthe drinksof the Italiansnext, but movement caughthis eye,and he wasforcedto move away as the waitress made her way toward the bar.

Sheliftedthetrayofdrinksexpertlyintotheair,whiskingit above the heads of the other diners toward theround table near the corner of the dining room.A somewhatsedate round of thanks greeted her arrival with the libations.

She placedtheblue napkins and theirglassesin front of their intended recipients, the dark whiskey concealing the deadly contents.

Theysatattheeleganttable near the dance floor,Ty withone hand on the white linen in front of himand the other in Zane's lap, his fingers lacedamong Zane's.Zane hopedthat holding onto eachother would give them some measure of composure from which to draw patience. Theyhadlookedyetagainforanyoftheotherteammembers,even pretending to stumble intosome service areas, and finding no onehad justaddedtotheirfrustration.Either they weredoinga betterjobof beingdiscreetthanTyhadgiventhemcreditfor,orsomethinghad gone wrong.

Evenateamrelegatedtoinvisibleemergencybackuphadtobe more available than this.

Zanehadcalledanabrupthalttothesearchsotheycouldget ready fordinner,andthey hadarrivedjustafterLorenzoandNorina Bianchi.Now they weremaking smalltalkoverthelivebandplaying old,romantictorchsongs,waitingforVartanArmenandtheshow Zane was sure tocome.Finally,after eight days, a realleadto the smuggling ring's businesswouldhave to presentitself. As undercover operations went, eight days was nothing.It wasthe environs and the whole "married couple" situation with Ty that made it so surreal.

Norinaleanedslightlytoward Ty afterthewaitressseta champagnefluteonagreennapkininfrontofher."Areyouenjoying thecruise,Del?Canyoubelieveitisalready halfway over?"sheasked inapleasanttone.Herhusbandlookedontolerantlyfromherother side.

Ty smiledatherandnodded,leaningbackabittomakeroomfor the server. "It's been quite pleasant," he answered stiffly. He couldn't seemtomustertheenergytobeeffusivewithheranymore.Hehad done an admirable job before tonight, though. He'd lasted longer than Zane would have predicted.

"Oh, my poorDel,"Norinasaidsympatheticallyasshepattedhis cheekwith herhand."You havehada stressful time, no?Itis settled, then.Tomorrowwhilethey play withtheirtoys,perhapsyouandI,we will have fun somewhere else? Perhaps some time with the masseuse?"

"Del enjoys anything that makes himmore beautiful,"Zane drawled as he listened in.

Ty lookedsidewaysatZane,givinghimabrief,hatefullook.But he choseto ignorethecommentand looked backat Norinawith aweak smile. "As long as the fun doesn't involve climbing," he said to her.

She laughed lightly. "My fun has nothing to do with climbing."

"I'msureyou'llhaveagreattime,"Zanesaid,tryingtokeepthe atmospherepleasant."I'llbehappyknowingDelisentertainedwhile I'mworking."

"Iftheyhavemoney tospend,theywillbehappy,"Bianchi predicted as he leaned sideways in his chair.

Norinalightly slappedhishand. "Itwillkeep mylonely thoughts fromyou."

Ty sniffedatthemboth,obviously insultedbutholding histongue as Armen strolled up to the table.

"Apologiesfor my tardiness," theman murmuredashepulledout the seat next to Zane and sat down. He didn't offeran excuse.

Zane smiled politely. "Not at all. We were just passing the time."

"I ordered drinks for us all, Signor Armen," Bianchi declared.

"Very well," Armen murmured as he glanced toward the bar.

"IthinkIwouldliketheseafoodtonight,Lorenzo,"Norinasaid as she perused the menu.

"Afterfishthelastthreemeals,Iamnotsurprised,mygioia. Order whateveryou like," Bianchi said.

Ty lookeddownandrubbedathisforeheaduncomfortably.Zane knewhewishedthetwoItalianswouldeaseuponthelovey-dovey stuffalittle.Itwasgettingonhisnerves,soZaneknewithadtobe aggravating Ty, who reached for hisglass of Scotch. Apparently he was figuring he mightas wellmake the bestof itif the criminalswere footing the bill.

Watchingas Ty pickeduptheheavy crystallowballglassand raisedittohislips,Zanecouldalmostfeelthespicy liquidburningits way tothebackofhisthroat,andthethoughtwasenoughtoraisethe hairs on his arms even before Ty took a swallow.

He'd be able to taste it on Ty's tongue.

"I see Delisanxiousfora toast,no?" Bianchisaidwitha hearty laugh.

Ty clearedhisthroatbeforeever takinga sip,andhe puttheglass down with an apologeticsmile.

"We're justpleased to behere," Zane said. He glanced to his own glassanddecidedhewasn'tevengoingtopickitup.He'dtoastwith the water glass, bad luck and cover identity be damned.

"Then letus toastto pleasure,"Bianchistarted,raising hisglass. Armenand Ty bothheldtheirglassesout,andZanereachedforhis waterglass.Norinadelicately touchedherchampagneglasstoher husband's,andZanecouldn'thelpbutwatchasTy puthisglasstohis lips again.

Ty hadbeenright:puttingtwoofthethingsZanewasaddictedto together like this was sort of cruel.

The band struck the opening chord on anew song,and Norina clapped and bounced excitedly as she grabbed at Ty's arm. The whiskey in hisglasssloshed,andhe pulleditaway from hisface before it could spill across his lap.

"A tango! Del,you must dance with me! Please, tesoro, let us dancewhileyoudoyourboringthings,"Norinasaidassheturnedto her husband.

"Ah, the whims of a woman," Bianchi said fondly. "Ifyou must."

Norina turned to Ty,one graceful hand outstretched. "You promised me a tango while at sea."

Ty staredather,eyesslightly wide."I did?"heasked,obviously caughtoffguard. "I did," herepeatedmoreconfidently,tryingtocover hisinitialreactionashetookherhandgingerly.HeglancedatZaneas if seeking rescue.

Zane raised both brows and shrugged, though he felt a wash of anxiety.HehadnoideaifTyknewhowtotango.Onadancefloor, anyway.Itwasn'texactlythetypeofthingonelearnedinabar."Go ahead,doll.I'msuretherewillbemoresongsforustodancetothis evening."

TygavehimthemostevilglareZanethoughthehadeverseen, buthestoodandheldNorina'shandassherose.Theothersstoodas shedid,and Ty escortedheraway fromthetablelikeaperfect gentleman,leadingheroutontotheopendancefloorinthemiddleof the dining room.

"Ah,ourlovedonesaresuchdelights,arethey not?"Bianchisaid as he swirled the liquor in his glass.

"Delights. Right," Zanemurmured ashe kepthis eyes on the couple.Thereweren't manybraveenoughtodancethetango,which made Ty andNorinaallthemoreconspicuous.Zanewouldbethis recentwindfallthatTywouldn't havewalkedouttherewithoutatleast some idea of how to tango, but he wasstill worried. There was nowhere for Ty to hide.

The melody restarted.

Whenthey starteddancing,itwasaslow,almosttentativestart. More stopandgo thanasmoothflow of steps.ButZane knew thatwas howmosttangosstarted.They didn'tmissany steps,andNorinawas smiling asthey turnedinahalf-circle.Thenthemusicpickedup, becoming morerobust, and Ty whirledNorinaaround in time withthe music and dippedhergrandly asshelaughed.Thatwaswhenthey truly began dancing.

Zane almost broke coverand showed his surpriseas he watched. Ty could tango.And pretty damn well. Surprise, surprise.

The dinersat thetables nearestthe dancefloor were watching the four couplesdancing.Allof themwere quitegood,butTy andNorina weretheonly oneswhoweretrulyfuntowatch.Twoattractivepeople withshining personalitieswhoknew whatthey were doingandenjoyed doing it—they were hard not to watch.

"Ah,hemakes my gioiasmile,"Bianchiremarked,hisvoicefull of pride. "She is so beautiful," he added, almost to himself. A man truly in love.

Thatthoughtshakily inmind,Zanespoke."Theybothare,"he agreed with no doubt at all.

"Whataboutyou,Mr.Armen?Whydidyounotbringsomeone with you? Perhaps someone as stunning as my Norina... or as handsome as Mr. Porter?" Bianchi asked.

"Beautifulpeople are in generala distraction," Armen saidstiffly. "And more troublethanthey are worth."He made noeffort to qualify the statement orexcuse their spouses from the broadgeneralization. He glanced out at them, now dancing a more vigorous version of the tango as eachgrew familiar with how the other moved.

IfLorenzo Bianchi hadknown the fake Del Porter on the dance floor was actually bisexual andhad the reputationTy did athome, there wasnowayhe'dsitpassively by whilehiswifedancedwithhimlike that.Zanefoundhimselfswallowing onnosmallamountofjealousy as well,especiallyuponseeingtherealenjoymentonTy'sface.Tyand Norinagrinnedwidelyateachotherastheymovedingracefulbox steps and the occasional twirl or dip.

"A distraction, perhaps,"Zane startedbeforeforcing himself to turn backto thetable."Butalso motivation to conducta successful business."

"Leave it to the American to skip the small talk and move right on to the business," Bianchi remarked bemusedly. He picked up hisglass, holding ituptoZane."Isaluteyourability to ignorebeautifulthingsin favor of business."

Zane nodded once and leveled an expectant look at Armen. "While they're otherwise occupied, no time like the present."

"To business, then," Armen murmured as he raised his own glass. He and Bianchi touched their glasses together.

Afteramoment'shesitationunderBianchi's expectanteye,Zane went against his earlier decision andliftedthe lowballglass in front of him from the dark blue napkin. "To successful business."

The music hita crescendo,and therewasa smattering ofapplause from the peoplewatching as one or two of thecouples attempted some difficultdipsorspins. A glancebacksawNorinaalmostparalleltothe ground,one dainty handtrailingthe shining woodsurfaceas theother gripped Ty'selbow.Herfeetwerebetween Ty'slegs,slidingeasily as Typulledherupandintoanimpressivespinningturnthatrequired some fancy footwork on both their parts.

Zane's curiositywasinoverdrive:WherethehellhadTylearned todancelikethat?They wouldbehavingatalkaboutthis.Zanelifted theglasshalfway tohislipsbutstoppedashecontinuedtowatch, wanting... no,achingtobe...Afteralong moment's feeling,heshook hishead and turned back tothetable, letting the lowballglass thump gently tothe tableasthemusicfadedbackinto theslowstrandofthe last vestiges of the tango. He sure did have his occasional flights of fantasy, Zane reflected with no small amount of regret. Dancing a tango with Ty definitely qualified.

"I havearrangedforameetingtomorrow,duringtheshore excursions,"Armentoldthemasthemusicfinally ended.Hespoke quickly,asiftogetitoutofthewaybeforetheothertworeturnedto the table. "We are to betaken to the objects,allowed to examine them, and then we will negotiate a price for any we deem worthy."

He had just finished with this curt explanation when Tyand Norina came gliding back to the table.

"Oh, how wonderful!" Norina wasexclaiming,hanging onto Ty's armandpractically dragginghim."I havenotdancedinsuchafashion in too long! We must do it again!"

Zane stoodonce againwiththe other men,observing the formalities,andwaitedforTy toseatNorinaandrejoinhim."Didyou enjoy yourself, doll?" he asked, a little more seriously than he'd actually planned.

Ty's face was flushed, though whether from the exertion or from embarrassmentZane couldn't be sure. "Yes," Ty answered curtly. The tone was enough to let Zane know he was blushing and not merely overheated.

Zane slid his arm around Ty's waistand pulled himin close for a moment."Youlookedincredible,"hesaidhonestly.Itwasgoodluck that it was in character.

Ty shiveredviolently.Heturnedhisheadandexposedhisneckto Zane's lips as he spoke."Shut up," he whispered,flusteredyet slightly amused.Zanechuckledand decided to let up.Otherwise he'd pay for it later. So he pulled Ty'schair out for him instead, but his hands still itched to touch.

"Welldone, my lovelies,"Bianchisaidas Ty seatedhimselfand Norinabeamedatherhusband."Del,I thankyouforsparing my poor feet."

"My pleasure," Ty respondedwithaweakattemptatasmile. NorinaturnedhercharmingsmileonTy andbeganspeakingrapidlyin Italian to him, obviously too excited to remain in English.

Tywasmerelynoddinginapparentagreementtowhatevershe saidashereachedforhiswhiskey.ButZanedidn'twanttowait,and he knewgetting Ty outon the dance floor wasn'treally a viable option. So he caughtTy'shandandlifteditto his lipsfor a soft kissalong Ty's knuckles. He leaned very close, brushing his lips against Ty's cheekboneashewhispered."Howaboutanotherblushsotheydon't suspectI'm tellingyou about the meet."

Ty glanceddownslightly andthenturnedjustenoughthathis breath was warmagainstZane'scheek.He put his drink back down, so distracted that he almostmissed the blue napkin."Is it soon?" he asked softly.

"Tomorrow," Zane breathed. "On shore." He leaned a little closer, draping hisarm over the back of Ty's chair. "Maybeyou cango shopping," he murmured.

Ty madeastranglednoiseinthebackofhisthroatbeforepulling backandlookingaway fromZanewithasharpshakeofhishead.He followeditby stampinghardonZane'sfoot.Zanestifledapainedgasp and agrimace.Bastard.Ty wanted tobe in themarketwhenthe deal wentdown,didn'the?ZanejabbedTy inthe ribswithtwofingersand kicked his shin in return while starting to settle back in his chair.

Ty jerkedand satforwardtoohard, jostling the table and the glass he'dagainbeenreachingfor.Thehundredsofdollars'worthofScotch in hisglass splatteredeverywhere,soaking the linentableclothandthe majority of it flowing over the edge onto Ty's chest and lap.

He stoodquickly withacurse under hisbreath.Norina exclaimed loudly andreachedwithhernapkintohelphim.Zanesatbackquickly, managing to avoidallbut a smallsplatter across one pantsleg, and he hadtostiflealaugh.Hehadn'texpected Ty toreactsoviolently,but maybe he was in a worse mood than Zane suspected.

Ty convincedNorinanottohelphimdry off,insteadtaking her napkin with thanks and then turning narrowed eyes onZane,as if it had beenhisfault."Excuse me,won'tyou?" he said totherestof thetable throughgritted teeth. "Order mefish, darling.I'llbe back," he snapped at Zane as he turnedand made his way out of thedining room quickly.

Only afterhewasoutofsightdidZanerealizeTy hadprobably takenadvantageoftheheavytuxedotohideaweapononhimselffor the first time all week.He couldn't take the jacketoff—they'd see his gun.

Ty wouldn't let this go without payback, and Zane resigned himself to his fate with a small smirk. It had beenworth it.