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  Though, given the depths to which he’d stooped in the past, this one was positively virtuous.

  “I’ll be hungry later,” she said finally.

  “I’ll be here.”

  In the open doorway, she turned back. “When I get brought up on charges of trespassing and tampering with evidence, I’m calling you to defend me.”

  “Naturally. It would be my great pleasure.”

  “SHE’S COMING?”

  Nodding, Carr set his cell phone on the kitchen counter. “Finally,” he said to his friend and neighbor, Andrea Hastings Landry.

  Her husband, Tyler, sat at the chrome-and-glass table beside the house’s rear windows. Beyond him, the landscape lights illuminated the pool and palm fronds blowing in the strong wind.

  A storm was coming, and Carr would be glad to have Malina safely here with him. How he could be worried more about wind and rain and not diamond-stealing, gun-toting bad guys was a puzzle he ought to consider assembling.

  Most likely, it was simply the fact that he was separated from her and the fear she wouldn’t come back, which haunted him.

  “You sure she’s not a figment of your imagination?” Tyler asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “Funny,” Carr said, moving toward the windows to watch the dark clouds gather. “You should have gone into show business instead of law enforcement.”

  As Tyler opened his mouth to retort, Andrea interrupted. “Don’t antagonize him, honey. I’m dying to meet this mystery woman who has our unshakeable Carr so twisted up.”

  Carr frowned. “I’m not twisted up.”

  Andrea patted his hand. “Oh, you so are.” Her head angled, she regarded him thoroughly. “It’s kind of cute actually.”

  “Oh, yeah, he’s adorable,” Tyler said as he grabbed his wife’s hand and tugged her into his lap.

  Tyler had once considered Carr a rival for Andrea’s attention, even though she and Carr had never been more than friends. It seemed Tyler still hadn’t let go of his jealousy completely.

  As unsubstantiated as Tyler’s feelings were, Carr finally understood them. He wouldn’t want another man near Malina either. Hell, he was twisted up.

  “She’s not a figment of my imagination. She’s…” How did he describe Malina in a way that was logical? He wasn’t yet prepared to share the confusing and unfamiliar feelings he had for her. “Interesting,” he said eventually. “Smart, resourceful, tough. You’ll like her.”

  “Uh-huh,” Tyler said, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t hear hot anywhere in that sentence.”

  “Of course she’s—” Actually, hot seemed too tame. Beautiful, exotic and compelling were more to the point. “She’s more than hot. That’s too—” He broke off, shrugging.

  “Oh, my,” Andrea said, her eyes wide. “Carr, you never stumble over anything. What’s going on?”

  “Well, I’m not—”

  “She obviously has a demanding job,” Tyler broke in, directing his comment to Andrea. “And she doesn’t live on the island.”

  “He’s pretty much trolled the availability of all the women here,” Andrea agreed.

  “Maybe she’s resistant to meeting Carr’s friends. Maybe she’s not that into him.”

  “She didn’t show up for dinner. Maybe she has food issues.” Andrea looked at Carr. “Does she?”

  Carr made an effort to tuck his aggravation away and feign surprise. “Oh, you’re going to include me in this psychoanalysis?”

  Amused, Andrea nodded. “Sure. The patient is usually the best source of information.”

  “Usually,” Tyler said, seeming skeptical.

  And no doubt enjoying the digs at Carr’s expense.

  Carr leaned back against the windowsill. “Malina does have a demanding job, she doesn’t live on the island. I have no idea whether she’s resistant to meeting my friends, since I didn’t tell her you were here. I also don’t know if she has food issues—we’ve never shared a meal.”

  Speculation slid into Tyler’s eyes. “And is she really into you?”

  “I think so, but I don’t think she’s all that happy about it.” Carr lifted his hands, then let them fall. “I’m not sure.”

  Andrea stared at him in shock. “You think so? You’re not sure. You have no idea?” Her tone rose dramatically with each word.

  “What the hell has this chick done to you, Carr?” was Tyler’s pointed question.

  Carr shook his head. “Realizing I’m repeating myself, I have no idea.”

  “So what does she do?” Andrea asked, compassionately passing over his out-of-character uncertainty.

  “She’s—” He stopped, realizing suddenly that his friends could help him figure out why he was so fascinated with Malina. A few days ago, he simply wanted to seduce her, and now he wanted a relationship. A serious one. Possibly.

  Maybe Andrea and Tyler would understand the attraction in a way he couldn’t. Hadn’t they jumped quickly into their relationship? Hadn’t it led to love and happily ever after?

  He desperately wanted to know what it was about this woman that made her different from all the others he’d ever known.

  Why was she so important? Why her? Why now?

  She wasn’t at all like a woman he envisioned himself getting serious about. She was too direct. Though he was sure she understood and appreciated subtlety in other people, she didn’t bother with it personally. Her toughness was sometimes harsh and unyielding. Necessary for her job, but could she turn it off and be tender? Would her sense of justice stand in the way of understanding his past, the way he used to live? And last, but certainly not least, she wanted off this relaxing island as fast as possible, and he wanted to be nowhere else.

  He liked swords, and she was a .357 Magnum.

  He refused to explain to Andrea and Tyler about who Malina was, what she did and what she represented in his life beyond what he’d already told them—she was a woman he’d recently started seeing whom he’d invited to dinner. He would explain to Tyler about the case if Malina wanted him to, but for now, he was keeping silent. Understanding the turn his life had taken in the past few days was essential, and he knew of nobody better to help him figure out the cause and consequences than his friends.

  When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, he was grateful, as Andrea wasn’t wildly patient when her curiosity was aroused.

  She was, in fact, so inquisitive that she followed him down the hall to the front door.

  Malina stood on the doorstep wearing the traditional government employee uniform—blue pantsuit, pressed white shirt, polished dark shoes. She’d pulled her hair back in a low ponytail, but she’d clearly been agitated at some point, since several strands had escaped to hang around her face, as if she’d run frustrated fingers through many times over.

  “Sorry, I—” As her vivid turquoise gaze found Andrea, her exhausted posture stiffened. “I’m clearly late. Too late.”

  She instinctively doubted him. Maybe she always would.

  But as much as that possibility bothered him, he knew she had reason to doubt. She’d given the Bureau her blood, sweat and maybe even tears, and when she’d needed them most, they’d cast her aside to save face.

  Before she could turn away, Carr wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her inside. “I’m glad you’re here. This is my friend and neighbor, Andrea Landry.”

  “Neighbor?” She directed her attention to Carr for a second, an apology clearly evident. “The sheriff’s wife.” She extended her hand to Andrea. “Malina Blair. Nice to meet you.”

  Andrea shook her hand, then her gaze flicked to Malina’s side holster, exposed as her jacket fell open. “You’re a cop?”

  “FBI. Your husband’s here?”

  “He’s in the kitchen.”

  “I’m going to need to talk to him,” Malina said to Andrea, though she looked at Carr.

  “I haven’t said anything,” he returned defensively.

  She surprised him by sliding her hand down his arm. “Then it�
�s time we did.”

  As Malina headed down the hall, Andrea gave Carr an elbow nudge. “FBI? You’re dating an FBI agent? What’s going on?”

  Since he wasn’t about to repeat the humiliating mantra of I have no idea, Carr shrugged and continued down the hall.

  Tyler rose as they approached. In worn jeans and a red T-shirt, he didn’t look much like the chief law enforcement official on the island at the moment, but then Carr was wearing nearly the same thing, except his T-shirt was white, so he probably didn’t look much like a high-powered lawyer. Well, formerly high-powered.

  The expression in both Tyler and Malina’s eyes was all cop-to-cop as they exchanged introductions. Even without the sidearm, it seemed that Tyler would have certainly recognized her for what she was.

  “We saved you some manicotti,” Carr said as he joined them. “Are you hungry?”

  Malina’s gaze swept the room, full of chrome and glass, the black marble bar separating the kitchen from the dining area, then finally the backyard, ocean waves churning in the distance.

  She assessed and evaluated with lightning speed, but Carr, used to reading people quickly, saw the pleasure and comfort that washed over her even before she smiled at him. “Starving. Thanks.”

  “Wine?” he heard Andrea offer as he headed to the fridge.

  “Sure.”

  “Working on Saturday?” Tyler asked her.

  Malina sat in the chair that faced the back of the house—and the ocean. “I’ve got a case that needs the extra time. Thanks,” she added as Andrea set a glass of Chianti in front of her.

  “You’re not from South Carolina,” Andrea said.

  “No. Kauai.”

  “Yeah?” Andrea said. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

  “You’ve been to Prague and never to Hawaii?” Tyler asked, eyeing his wife with skepticism and pulling out the chair opposite Malina for Andrea.

  “Anytime you want to take me, Sheriff, say the word.” Andrea said sassily. “You look Hawaiian—sort of.”

  “My father’s family goes back six generations. My mother’s a California blue-eyed blonde, so I’m a mix.”

  “You work out of the Charleston office?” Tyler asked, returning to his seat on Malina’s left. “You must know Rick Holly.”

  “Sure,” Malina said. “He works Cyber Crimes. He’s a good agent.”

  “What makes a good agent?” Andrea asked, her nosiness in full force as she leaned forward.

  Carr set a plate of manicotti and salad in front of Malina. “Don’t take offense. She’s been trying to psychoanalyze me all night.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she followed his movements. He sat next to her and saw her caution drop briefly. The connection between them sizzled, sparked to life by a glance. As much as he wanted Andrea and Tyler’s opinion, he also wished—at that moment—that he was alone with Malina.

  He probably shouldn’t have unexpectedly thrown the friends in with their dinner date. His idea had been to get her to relax, not see him as the guy who simply wanted her in his bed, but as a whole person, one who wanted her in his life, not just his bed.

  “We have an entire department at the Bureau dedicated to human behavior,” she said as she turned back to Andrea. “They’re way smarter than I am.”

  “So how did you get in?” Andrea asked, completely unabashed in her abrupt personal questions. “Federal law enforcement is extremely competitive.”

  Malina paused with her wineglass halfway to her lips. “Is it?”

  “Sure.”

  Carr nearly intervened and explained about Andrea’s exposure to the police, beyond her husband, but he wanted to know the answer to the question. Sam hadn’t given him Malina’s recruitment history.

  Malina’s gaze never shifted from Andrea’s. “See that landscape light in the top of that palm, third from the right on the left side of the pool?”

  Andrea turned to view the light in question. “Yeah.”

  “I could draw my sidearm and shoot it out in less than fifteen seconds.”

  Everybody—with the exception of Malina, who continued to hold her wineglass casually in her left hand—jolted in surprise.

  “Years ago,” Malina continued, “one of the Bureau directors was on vacation in Kauai and happened to attend a bow-marksman tournament I participated in during high school. After I won, he gave me his card and said I should call him after I graduated from college. I did.”

  “So your greatest skill is shooting things?” Andrea asked slowly.

  “No,” Carr said automatically.

  “Yes,” Malina insisted.

  Carr shook his head. “You’re more to the Bureau than hired muscle.”

  “I have no problem being muscle,” she said, shrugging. “That’s where the action is. I spent the nearly five years of my career assigned to HRT.”

  “Hostage Rescue Team,” Tyler supplied before his wife could ask. “The tactical division. Badasses.”

  Malina nodded—no arrogance or bragging, just acceptance of the truth. “Carr said you were a Marine. You worked with our guys at some point, I’m sure.”

  “Many times,” Tyler said, his gaze intensifying in his scrutiny of Malina. “They’re a valuable asset in a crisis.”

  “Same to you.” She toasted him with her wineglass. “Mostly we show up with storm trooper uniforms, a lot of firepower and attitude and scare the living crap out of the bad guys without a shot ever going off.”

  Carr found irrational fear blooming in his chest. Picturing Malina in black fatigues and a bulletproof vest wasn’t exactly a comforting image. “And if the bad guys don’t scare so easily?”

  Malina forked up a bite of manicotti. “We’re prepared for that, too. This is great, by the way,” she added, glancing from Tyler to Carr to Andrea.

  “Thanks,” Andrea said. “I’ve been learning, since these guys would eat fried fish sandwiches and burgers at Coconut Joe’s every night otherwise.”

  “Coconut Joe’s?” Malina asked.

  “The beach bar near the main pier.” Tyler stroked his wife’s cheek with his thumb. “We had our first date there.”

  Andrea’s eyes widened. “We did not. That was a professional consultation.”

  “Really?” Carr put in. “He was certainly territorial. He didn’t like that I was there.”

  While they launched into a discussion over just how shameless Tyler had been in his pursuit of Andrea the previous fall, Malina watched them curiously and finished her dinner.

  Carr was distinctly aware of her and the information he’d learned about her past. A quiet island girl comfortable with extreme tension and the probability of violence. A woman raised in paradise who chose grit.

  The contrast intrigued him.

  Was it this contrast that drew him to her in a way he’d never experienced before? Was it the unlikelihood of their contrasting paths ever merging that worried him?

  He’d wanted to escape his quiet island life as well. He had enjoyed it with relish for a time, but he’d broken with his past and never wanted to go back.

  Returning to the pulsing excitement of the city was her greatest ambition.

  “Sorry, Malina,” Tyler said, bringing her into the conversation. “It’s an old argument.”

  “I wouldn’t get too worked up over it, Sheriff,” Malina said. “You obviously won.”

  Tyler nodded. “True. So…hot tub?”

  “Smooth segue,” Carr commented.

  “We fed you women and sat through a polite chit-chat,” Tyler said. “Don’t we get a reward?”

  Malina’s lips twisted as she glanced at Carr. “Like a payment.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” he reminded her.

  Andrea narrowed her eyes in her husband’s direction. “What reward?”

  “You two in bikinis in the hot tub,” Tyler said, nodding for emphasis.

  Malina leaned back in her chair. Carr was sure she would fire back at Tyler quickly. After all, he and the sheriff had done nothing but find
glasses and open the wine for dinner. “I happen to have a bathing suit in the car, so I’m game for the hot tub on one condition.”

  “Name it,” Tyler said as Carr recovered from the surprise of her response.

  “I want to swim twenty laps in the pool first.”

  Tyler rose and held out his hand. “Deal.”

  As Malina reached out her hand, Andrea held up her finger. “I want to go to Hawaii.”

  Carr cleared away Malina’s dishes and headed to the kitchen while Tyler sputtered in shock. “You have to admire her sense of timing.”

  Malina stood. “It’s settled then. The hot tub is a perfect place to talk about stolen diamonds.”

  7

  “DIAMONDS?” Andrea asked.

  “Stolen?” Carr asked.

  “Beer?” Tyler asked.

  After Tyler filled beer and water orders from the poolside bar—complete with fireplace, wicker lounge chairs, full kitchen and giant grill—Malina let the warm water pound over her aching muscles while she gave the sheriff and Andrea the rundown on the case so far.

  “You’re right about Jack Rafton,” Tyler said. “He doesn’t have the balls for smuggling or theft.”

  “I’m not sure that Simon Ellerby does either,” Malina said. “He’s crafty enough, I guess, but major jewel thefts are generally instigated by organized crime groups, which are intricate, organized and brutal. Career thieves, on the other hand, are loners, resourceful and rarely violent. This gang—if there even is one—seems to fit with the latter profile.”

  “And yet you said stolen diamonds, plural,” Carr pressed. “That seems to be a major theft.”

  Malina nodded. “It does. It turns out a remote diamond mine in Australia is missing a cache of stones. No official report has been made to international authorities, but my boss made some calls to colleagues and learned that the theft is being kept quiet because a government official is suspected of being involved—in fact, they’re all but positive it was an inside job. Law enforcement has the guy under surveillance and doesn’t want anyone to know there’s even been a theft, hoping he’ll try it again.” Malina could all but see giant rolls of red tape unspooling all over yet another small island. “So there’s an internal investigation within the government and another one by the company that owns the mine.”