Amy gasped as it all clicked in her mind. She walked over to the bed and sank down, feeling weak.

"Yes, I see."

"If you didn't search my room, who did?"

She cleared her throat. "That's a very good question. I haven't seen any signs that anyone was in the house." She shot to her feet. "My father's study."

Jed turned around. "What about it?"

"There's a safe in it. Surely if anyone searched the house he would have tried to open the safe."

"I don't think it was that kind of search, Amy. I doubt if anyone went through the place on a random basis. I think the guy found the one room he wanted."

"Your room? But why, Jed?"

"Maybe someone wants to know if I'm following in LePage's footsteps," he said calmly.

"What?"

"There was a point during the past few days when you were asking yourself a similar question, wasn't there?" he reminded her. "We've got to get that box out of the caves, Amy."

Amy was pacing the room in a distracted manner. "You keep saying that. I've already agreed. But I can't believe someone is after that box, Jed. It's been eight months since LePage... died. Why would someone move in on the box now, at this particular time?"

"Because your parents have finally left the island?" he suggested. "Theoretically, with your mother and father off the island for a few weeks, this should have been an ideal time to search for the caves."

"But we're here! It's not as if the place is vacant." Amy was concentrating intently. "How do you know your room was searched? Is something missing? Were things tossed around?"

"It's nothing obvious, honey," Jed said patiently. "Just half a dozen unzipped teeth on my flight bag.

Normally I leave eight unzipped."

Amy was astounded. "Six little teeth instead of eight? Good heavens, Jed, that's hardly evidence for a search. You could easily have miscounted. Why would you be counting zipper teeth in the first place?"

"Habit."

"Oh, come on, there was no reason for you to have taken precautions here. How can you be certain you left that bag unzipped just so far and no farther?"

He ran a hand through his hair and said again, this time a little wearily, "I've told you. Habit."

Amy threw up her hands. Then she grabbed her kimono and slipped into it. "Let's take a look at this famous flight bag." She headed for the door without waiting for him to follow. She was aware of Jed coming after her, shaking his head as if she just didn't understand.

Amy marched into the room to see the bag wide open. It was empty, as Jed had said. Amy studied it before spinning around to confront him. She eyed him suspiciously.

"This is it? This is all the evidence of a search you've got?"

In spite of his obvious concern about the situation, Jed began to look faintly amused by her interrogation.

"Yes, ma'am. That's it. One empty flight bag that should have been zipped to within eight teeth of the end of the zipper."

"Which is now totally unzipped so we can't even count teeth."

"Right," he agreed.

"Are you absolutely, positively certain about the number of teeth, Jed?"

"If I weren't I'd probably crack under all this pressure you're applying. You sound like a police detective trying to break my story."

She was offended. "It's just that I can't quite believe someone was in the house today. We don't have any crime on Orleana. Oh, a few fights down in the village, perhaps, but that's about the extent of it.

Who could have done something like this? From what you've told me, it would take a fairly sophisticated sort of intruder."

"There's a whole cruise ship full of strangers sitting in the harbor, Amy."

Her eyes widened. "Good grief, you're right."

"I'm glad I've finally made an impression. You'd better go get dressed."

"Dressed? You still want to go out this evening? Even though you think someone was in here going through your things today?" She was taken aback by his apparently casual att.i.tude.

"Why not? Whoever got in here today is long gone, and no one's likely to try stumbling around in the jungle looking for the cave entrance tonight. It'll be safe enough for us to spend a few hours on board the ship."

"You're very sure the box is at the bottom of all this, aren't you?"

"Let's just say I'll feel much more secure when I know that box is out of the caves and empty of all its secrets. Run along, Amy."

"You're sure you want to go out tonight?"

"I'm sure."

She gave him one last, doubtful look and then did as he suggested.

After he and Amy were seated in one of the ship's three lounges later that evening, Jed realized he wasn't sure he wanted to spend the evening on board after all. The guy who had made a pa.s.s at Amy that afternoon in Hank and Rosie's was seated along with his buddy on the opposite side of the room. He caught Amy's eye and waved, and she politely acknowledged the greeting. Jed turned to Hank who was sitting beside him. The big tavern owner and his wife were sharing a table with Jed and Amy. "What did you say his name was?"

"Who?" Then Hank grinned with good-natured understanding. "Oh, you mean Renner. His friend's name is Guthrie." Hank leaned closer. "Don't worry. Amy isn't the wandering type."

Jed glanced at Amy who was talking animatedly with Rosie. "I know. But I get the feeling Renner is."

Just gazing at Amy made his body tighten in pleasant antic.i.p.ation. The feeling of possessiveness went deep, deeper than he had even suspected this afternoon. It went right to the bone.

Tonight she was very appealing with her hair on top of her head in a deceptively casual knot that left wisps trailing temptingly down her nape. The style seemed to highlight the faint slant of her eyes, making her look more like a sorceress than ever. She was wearing a lemon yellow island dress of polished cotton. It had a deep, curving neckline that exposed a fair amount of her soft skin and it fell in a long, narrow column to her ankles. The skirt was slit high on the side to facilitate walking. The design also facilitated a tantalizing glimpse of leg. Jed realized just how far gone he was when he caught himself actually thinking of telling Amy to uncross her legs so the yellow dress wouldn't reveal quite so much of her shapely calf. It didn't take a creative imagination to guess how she'd treat that suggestion.

Jed sighed and ordered another round of drinks for everyone at the table. He was valiantly sticking to white wine this evening and was aware of Amy's silent approval. Hank and Rosie weren't being nearly so circ.u.mspect. They were both sampling martinis. The drinks were served with a flourish by a white-jacketed waiter just as the band appeared onstage. The lights in the lounge dimmed and the music swelled to a lively number based on a rock beat. Conversation dropped to a minimum and the dance floor began to fill.

Jed caught Amy watching him expectantly and belatedly realized she was waiting for him to ask her to dance. He listened to the driving rhythm of the music and groaned silently. She was tapping her fingertip on the surface of the table. Jed sought for a reasonable excuse.

"Uh, the floor's kind of crowded. How about waiting for the next one?" he offered.

"You're not getting out of this that easily." Amy got to her feet.

"Sweetheart, have a little pity on me. This isn't my kind of music. I'm a little old for this type of dancing."

"Stop looking for excuses." Her fingers closed around his wrist, but before she could coax him to his feet, Renner's voice interrupted. He had come up behind Amy.

"If it's a partner you want, I'm game," Renner said easily. "No need to drag your friend here out on the floor. Let's let the older crowd enjoy their drinks in peace while you and I give the band a try."

Jed considered the various and a.s.sorted pleasures that would be his if he were to plant his fist in the center of Renner's face. Then he saw the anxious expression in Amy's eyes. She'd hate him if he caused a scene. Realizing his options were limited, Jed got to his feet.

"The older crowd," he informed Renner, "can still manage to get around." He dragged Amy toward the dance floor before she or Renner could say anything. When he reached the polished wood floor he yanked her into his arms and found her laughing silently up at him. The unholy amus.e.m.e.nt in her green eyes made him long to exert some authority.

"The older crowd," Amy repeated whimsically. "What a quaint phrase."

"One more word on that subject and I'll haul you out on deck to give you a little demonstration of how old I feel right now."

"Is that a threat?" she asked brightly.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he accused, trying to hold her close and still find the beat of the music.

It was tricky. Most of the other couples were moving about the floor in a freewheeling fashion.

"Are you jealous, Jed?" she asked softly, her eyes luminous in the dim light.

"I'm feeling provoked."

"Oh." She pursed her lips in a disappointed pout. "Is that all?"

He groaned and hauled her closer. "Do you want me to feel jealous?"

"Well, I know how I'd feel if that blonde sitting near us put the moves on you."

"What blonde?" He was honestly confused until he glanced around and saw someone tall, golden haired and slinky looking toward him with predatory eyes. "Oh, that blonde."

"Yes," Amy agreed a little too sweetly, "that blonde."

Jed grinned. "She looks a few years older than you. Maybe she likes the slow dances."

Amy found the top of his shoe with the heel of her dressy yellow evening sandals.

"Ouch! Okay, tell me how you'd feel if the blonde had made a pa.s.s at me," Jed invited.

"I'd go for her throat. Then I'd go for yours."

"Hmm." He pulled her tightly against him as the last of the rock music faded into a slow, sensual piece.

He nestled his cheek against her hair, inhaling the soft, clean fragrance.

"Now you know how I feel when I see Renner trying to move in on you."

"We're even, huh?" She smiled against his shoulder.

"Not quite. The blonde hasn't made a pa.s.s at me yet. Don't I at least get that much out of this before we say we're even? Ouch! Amy..."

Satisfied, Amy took her heel off his toes a second time and relaxed. Jed forgot about trying to find the beat and gave himself up to the pleasure of feeling Amy's small b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against his chest. His fingers strayed down the s.e.xy curve of her spine to the fullness of her b.u.t.tocks, shaping her with lingering enjoyment. She always felt so good, he thought. He could feel her moving with him, following the lead of his body as he guided her slowly through the crowd of dancers. She was so sleek and soft and warm.

His lower body was stirring, growing taut and aware.

"I think you really are a sorceress, just like the heroines in your books," he murmured.

She wound her arms around his neck and looked up at him with dreamy, seductive eyes. "No," she said gently, "I'm not the one with the magic. You are."

He saw the melting sensuality in her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "I think we'd better sit down."

"Why?"

"Because we can't lie down."

"Oh, I see." Her smile became very intimate.

"My biggest concern at the moment is that everyone else will be able to see, too. Let's get off this floor before I embarra.s.s myself." He guided her back to the table without waiting for an affirmative response.

Hank and Rosie watched them return.

"You two didn't stay out there long," Rosie observed.

"I'm afraid the nightlife on board a cruise ship is a little too much for Jed," Amy said blandly.

Hank chuckled. "Is that right, Jed? You'd better get ready to defend your territory, then. Renner's already licking his chops."

Rosie spoke before Jed could respond. "You know," she said with dawning satisfaction, "I just realized who Dan Renner puts me in mind of. It's not so much his looks, although that's part of it. It's the way he's flirting with Amy in front of Jed."

Jed picked up his wine. "If he flirts with her much more, he's going to put you in mind of a squashed bug."

"Jed, for heaven's sake," Amy said admonishingly.

Jed just looked at her. Then he glanced across the room and noticed Renner was sitting alone at the table he had been sharing with Guthrie. Guthrie had moved to the bar. "All right, Rosie, tell us who Renner reminds you of."

"Something about him," Rosie said slowly, "makes me think of Michael Wyman."

Amy nearly choked on her white wine. She coughed and sputtered until Jed reached around the table and slapped her casually between the shoulders. Her eyes grew very wide as she stared at Rosie. Amy wasn't the only one staring at the plump woman. Hank was also looking at his wife as if she'd just put a live hand grenade in the center of the table. But it was Jed who demanded clarification first.

"Michael Wyman? Slater's old partner?"

Rosie chuckled, pleased with the small sensation she had caused. "That's it. Wyman had that same shade of hair, as I recall, and there's something about his looks that's vaguely familiar. Those eyes... 'Course, it's been nearly thirty years. But it's more than that. Wyman was charming the way Renner is. Know what I mean? There was a kind of mischief in Wyman. A dangerous mischief," Rosie added with a sidelong glance at Amy. "Like he'd cause trouble if he could, just for the h.e.l.l of it, then stand back and watch everyone fly into a tizzy."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jed saw Renner ask the tall, cool blonde to dance. He watched the pair move out onto the floor and then realized Guthrie had not returned to his seat. Nor was the other man dancing. He was walking away from the bar, heading toward the doors that opened onto the deck.

Eight years of learning to trust instincts and gut reactions made Jed watch Guthrie carefully. The s.e.xual tightness that had come to life on the dance floor began transforming into another, familiar kind of physical alertness.