A Dangerous Arrangement (17 page)

No matter how hot Dean Logan was.

They were almost back at the saloon when she stopped walking and let go of his hand.

‘Dean. I'm not sure, you and me, getting friendlier, is a smart idea.'

He frowned, put one hand on his hip and slipped the other into his trouser pocket. ‘Okay. It seems I've made you uncomfortable. I thought after Taormina and last night—well, I guess I shouldn't have made assumptions.'

‘You didn't. I like you, I really do. It's just, this morning on the news they said you were supposed to be competing in the America's Cup.'

He shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. ‘I don't see what that has to do with—'

‘The report also mentioned a reconciliation with a Julia Montgomery.'

‘I see.' His jaw clenched and his eyes slid towards the saloon where Rask could be seen through the door.

Marina laid a hand on his arm. ‘We've only known each other a little while, and you certainly don't owe me an explanation. I came through one semi-scandal a few years ago without damaging my career. I can't afford to get caught up in another one. I'm sorry.'

She turned and walked ahead of him into the saloon.

‘Ah, there you are,' Rask said when he saw her. ‘What did you think of the bridge?'

‘Very impressive.' She watched as Dean walked over to the lounge and picked up the papers he'd been looking at earlier.

A little disappointed he hadn't come straight out and denied the reports, she looked around the room, wondering what to do with herself while she waited for them to explain the plans they'd put in place.

Once again, the baby grand caught her attention.

‘Does anyone play this?' she asked, walking over to it. She picked up the coffee cup Dean had left on the lid and shifted it to the coffee table.

Both men turned to look at her.

Rask's eyebrows shot up, and he looked at Dean.

‘No. No-one plays it.' He shrugged. ‘The interior designer suggested it.'

‘Do you mind if I have a look at it?'

He shook his head. ‘Be my guest.'

She lifted the lid and ran her hand across the ivory keys. It really was a beautiful piece, a custom-made Steinway. How sad for it to stand in the saloon like a glorified table, its rich and powerful tone heard by no-one.

Unable to resist, she spread out her fingers and played an E major chord.

‘Oh!' She couldn't help voicing her disappointment. ‘It's terribly out of tune.'

Dean raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?'

She nodded. ‘The movement of the boat will do it.'

It was one of her pet hates. Wealthy people, putting grand pianos in their homes, or in this case, on a boat. Invariably, nobody was capable of playing them, that much was apparent from the unsuitable positions they always chose to display them. Usually near a window, for maximum visibility, unaware the sun was the most destructive thing for both the strings and the wood. She couldn't count the number of times she'd seen grand pianos sitting in front of a floor to ceiling window, usually with a telescope beside it, and never anyone around.

This piano should be donated to a school, or a performing arts centre, or an aged care home where it would be used, loved and appreciated.

‘You should have it tuned, and it wouldn't hurt to lift the lid occasionally.'

He smiled a little, as though her concern for the instrument amused him. ‘I'll see it gets done. Anything else we should know?'

‘You shouldn't put liquids on it.' She lowered the lid. ‘Those flowers should come off. One spill and it will ruin the strings underneath.'

Dean continued to study her, while Rask stared like she was a specimen to be analysed.

Finally, Dean tipped his head in the direction of the flowers. ‘Well, go on Rask.'

Rask frowned. ‘What?'

‘Move the flowers.'

Rask glared and his face turned red.

He didn't move.

‘Many people would cherish an instrument like this,' Marina said. ‘People who can actually play.'

‘Alright, alright.' Rask huffed his way over to the piano and picked up the enormous vase of fresh flowers. ‘Where do you want me to put them?'

Dean cast an eye around the saloon and finally pointed to the desk. ‘Put them on there.'

Grumbling something about ‘darn performing arts people', Rask set the flowers on the desk and turned to look at each of them in turn.

‘Satisfied?'

Dean's lips curved in an amused grin. Then he sobered and tipped his head towards the lobby. ‘Marina. Can I see you outside for a minute?'

Oh jeez. Was he going to have a go at her because she told him how to care for the piano?

She followed him into the lobby, but when he opened the door leading onto the deck she hung back, suddenly nervous at the thought of going outside where only a guard rail separated her from the ocean below.

‘Where are we going?'

‘I thought we'd get some fresh air.'

When she didn't move, he gave her a puzzled look. ‘What's the matter? I only want to talk to you. I'm not in the habit of throwing my guests overboard.'

Marina clenched her teeth and forced herself to step outside. Alain was up the far end, hosing down the decks. The boards under her feet were wet and slippery, and when the yacht reefed up against the anchor she grabbed hold of the railing, heart pounding with fear.

From this high up, the water looked a long way down.

‘You caught me unawares before,' Dean was saying, walking on ahead. ‘The truth is, I haven't seen Julia for twelve months. I'd like to know which esteemed reporter cooked that one up.'

When she didn't answer, he swung around.

He must have seen the distress on her face because he grabbed her shoulders just as she feared her legs would disappear out from under her. ‘What's wrong?'

She shook her head, her embarrassment adding to the misery and heartache of the last few months, until it all became too much. ‘Please, let me go inside.'

This man had accused her of lying by omission once.

She couldn't do that to him again.

‘I can't swim.'

Chapter Twenty

Dean stared at Marina's ashen face.

He should have known. He'd been close, thinking she might have had a bad experience once, maybe caught in a rip or picked up by a big wave and dumped on the sand.

But not being able to swim at all? So alien was it among the people he dealt with, it hadn't even crossed his mind. Only when guests from Asia and landlocked European countries came on board did he check if they could swim.

But she was an All-American girl.

And Boston was on the water.

Furious with himself, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, her skin cold beneath his hands. ‘Better?'

She nodded.

They were back in the lobby. The wind had loosened her hair and it fell in dark waves about her face, a face so extraordinary he always found it hard to stop looking. Sometimes she caught him at it, and he had to look away fast, pretending he hadn't been checking her out.

In the past, he would have taken a wide berth around someone like Marina. Someone brilliant, if a little temperamental, sometimes vulnerable, other times strong. Not to mention complicated as all hell. And if that made him shallow, then he had to admit he was shallow. Normally, he went for easy. Not easy to bed, more ‘easy come, easy go'. But the simple truth was, ever since Taormina, he'd had an overwhelming urge to kiss her again.

The woman even had old Rask in a spin.

‘Were you never taught to swim?' he asked, still shaken by her revelation.

She shook her head. ‘There was a local pool, but we never learned. My family were always struggling to make ends meet. Any extra money went towards my violin lessons.'

She looked away, like the admission hurt. Not the inability to swim, but the money for the violin lessons.

An overwhelming sympathy for her landed in his heart. ‘Why did you get into that gondola? I could see you were afraid.'

The thought of something bad happening on the water, and Marina not being able to save herself, was enough to cut off his oxygen supply.

‘I promised Vlad. He's knows I'm not keen on the water, but he didn't want me to miss out.'

She'd kept it a secret, even from her best friends. And she was brave, pushing herself to take the job on the ship when she would have loathed every moment of it.

As she must be loathing every moment on board the yacht.

Pushing that disturbing thought aside, Dean put his arm around her shoulders. The best thing for her right now was to get her mind off it.

‘Come on, let's go inside. We have stuff to do. We can sort all this out later.'

***

Marina sat on the lounge and looked through the batch of images Mooney had sent through. The graphics were similar to the one she'd seen on Victor's screen, and they required closer scrutiny than the ones she'd looked over previously. There was a worm coming out of a computer screen, and one with an arm holding an eraser. Another had sharp teeth and was eating data.

She was nearing the end of the pile when an image almost jumped off the page. She stilled, picked it up and studied it closely.

In her peripheral vision she saw Dean straighten from where he'd been leaning against the desk, arms folded across his chest. ‘Anything?'

‘This one.' She held up the piece of paper. ‘This is it.'

Dean and Rask gathered around as Marina pointed to a nest of snakes in the centre of the image. ‘That's it, see the snakes, and the guns are pointing straight at the user.'

Dean peered at the image. ‘I'm not sure they're snakes. It looks more like a worm farm.' He pointed with his index finger. ‘Look, the segments on the worm have been photoshopped, so they're the numeral one. And every so often they're interspersed with zeros.'

‘Binary code,' said Rask.

‘And look at the guns. You thought they were more like missile launchers, but they're gunships.'

‘Destroyers,' added Rask.

‘That's right.' Dean's voice was laced with excitement as he pointed to each separate component of the graphic. ‘Will you take a look at that—binary code or data, destroyer guns, and worms.'

He looked from her to Rask and back again, a triumphant expression on his face. ‘Data-destroying worm.'

Marina stared at the image. ‘He never meant for me to see this.'

‘Are you certain, Marina? Are you sure this is it?'

‘Yes, I recognised it right away. When I was in his room I was too far away to pick up the finer detail, but I recognise what I thought was a tangle of snakes. I'm positive this is it.'

To her amazement, Dean hooked his arm around her neck, leaned closer and planted a hard kiss on the side of her head. ‘Good girl.'

His overt display of gratitude had her smiling up at him like a child who'd just received positive reinforcement from a parent. So much for telling him she didn't think getting close was a smart move.

She was a pushover.

But, he had made a point of telling her there was no basis to the report on the TV. And that changed everything.

‘Interpol will need to do a reverse image search on the internet, see what this throws up,' he was saying. ‘It could be a game, or a calling card, similar to the Lego guerrilla man.'

‘It could also be Yu's real identity,' said Rask. ‘Or the identity of a group he belongs to.'

Dean nodded. ‘That's something to consider. Get it back to your contact at Interpol, Rask, and cc Mooney in.'

‘Yes, boss.'

As Rask went to do Dean's bidding Marina stood, pleased she'd contributed something useful to the investigation. After her bout of seasickness and her confession to Dean, it made her feel like less of a problem. ‘So, what happens now?'

Dean was quiet for a few moments, like he was still thinking about the image. Then suddenly he answered her question.

‘I suppose we should run through what's going to happen if he contacts you this afternoon. Interpol have worked with the local police and everything's organised with the cruise line. You're familiar with how guests are ferried ashore when the ship can't moor at the dock?'

Marina nodded. ‘You mean by tender? We did that at Taormina and Sorrento.'

‘That's right. The ship will moor with the tenders facing seawards, so they come around the back of the ship and can't be seen from the shore. If Yu calls when you don't front, you're to ask him to give you half an hour.'

‘Won't that put him on notice?'

‘Maybe, but Rask and I think you will be more convincing if you admit you're nervous about getting off. Let him talk you into it, or he might threaten you. You're a smart girl. You'll know what to say when the time comes.'

‘How do I get on the ship?' The helicopter she'd spotted yesterday would be too conspicuous.

‘I'll take you in our tender. You'll be transferred straight onto the ship.'

Marina clasped her hands together, nervous at the prospect of being confronted by Victor. ‘What should I do if he wants to meet me in town? Go and sit in a cafe or something? I mean, I can't wander in and out of the shops for hours. What if he doesn't turn up right away?'

‘Okay, calm down.'

‘I'm not panicking, I'm just a bit nervous.'

He reached out and unlocked her hands, holding them in his warm ones, thumb stroking over the bruise on her bad wrist. ‘You don't have to do this. If you feel like you're in danger, you don't have to go anywhere near him.'

‘This may not even eventuate,' Rask said from the other side of the room. ‘If they get a positive sighting of Yu in Portofino, they'll detain him on the spot.'

Marina released a breath. ‘I hope that happens. What about the flash drive?'