A Dangerous Arrangement (7 page)

‘You've done well. This is good.'

The hope in his voice brought a smile to Marina's lips. ‘I was thinking that image could have been part of a game he was working on.'

‘Absolutely. How long ago was this?'

‘Quite soon after he moved in—roughly five months.'

‘This is definitely something we can follow up. If the game's hit the market, we should be able to follow a company trail leading to Yu, or whatever his name is. Will you stay on the line while I relay it to Rask?'

‘Of course.'

He put her on hold, and Marina rotated the icepack and sipped her lukewarm coffee. She wanted to help Dean Logan, help right the wrong done to him by Victor. And not only because she found Dean attractive. It ran deeper than that. Helping him took her mind off her own grim reality. He didn't know it, but they were fighting the same battle—a battle for their livelihoods and the passions that drove them. Dean had been brought down by the actions of her flatmate. She'd been brought down by her own body. And in her heart, deep down where conviction lay, she knew which one was harder to fix.

‘Marina?' He was back on the line. ‘We'll run searches on the kinds of images you've described. If we email you some pictures, can you look them over, see if anything jogs your memory?'

‘Of course. How's the investigation going?'

He gave a sigh. ‘We've been interviewing the staff, and those who had photographs have handed them over. Most were taken on smartphones, and they're not that good. Still, it's better than nothing. They've been sent to Interpol and every airport in Australia along with the photograph we kept on file. We're hoping facial recognition software will throw up a match with the passport he used. If he's left the country.'

‘I see. Well, good luck.

‘Thanks.'

A long silence stretched between them. Marina waited, giving him the chance to wrap up the conversation.

In the end, the tension got the better of her and she felt compelled to speak. ‘Anyway …'

‘How's the string quartet?'

There was amusement in his voice, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

It made her smile. ‘It's going surprisingly well.'

‘Surprisingly? Weren't you expecting it to go so well?'

‘I wasn't sure.'

She hadn't been sure she'd make it through a performance.

‘Are you playing nicely with the others?'

His voice had taken on that playful sexy tone he'd used in the gondola, when he'd asked if she knew the story of Casanova. When he thought she might be involved in a crime.

Now he knew she wasn't.

‘Do you mean the other passengers or the players?'

‘Both.'

A delicious anticipation built inside Marina, making her heart beat faster and her skin flush with heat. She recalled what she'd told him the other day.

My reasons for taking this gig are extremely personal. Where I go, and with whom, is entirely my business.

She'd been trying to protect her secret, trying to get them off her case. Had she piqued Dean Logan's interest with her words?

‘I always try to play nicely, Mr Logan.' This reluctance by both of them to hang up was totally crazy. ‘But I'd be lying if I didn't say I can be exasperating and difficult at times.'

Oh God
, why was she admitting this, and to a man she hardly knew?

‘And you told me you were single by choice.'

She laughed aloud at that.

He really was witty and charming and clever. And he was smiling too, she could hear it in his voice.

Marina sobered. While it had been lovely flirting with Dean Logan, that's all it was. All it could ever be.

‘I should go,' she said honestly.

There was another long silence, then ‘You'll be hearing from me, Marina.'

‘Goodnight, Dean.'

‘Night.'

She held onto the phone until the line went dead in her ear.

Chapter Eight

The following morning Marina disembarked the ship's tender and stepped onto the dock at Taormina. ‘It sure feels good to be back on terra firma.'

Vlad pulled her cap over her eyes and gave her ponytail a tug. ‘Come on you landlubber, we only have until lunchtime.'

Marina straightened the brim of her cap and they began walking towards the exit gates.

‘Are you sure you don't want me to come with you to the Amphitheatre?' asked Vlad.

‘I'll be fine. Once we're off the bus it's only a short walk, and you've been here dozens of times already.'

‘I have.' He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the line of tenders ferrying passengers from the cruise ship to the dock ‘The twins want to see the restaurant where the actors all sit around talking like Marlon Brando in
The Godfather
.'

Marina laughed. ‘Then how about I catch up with you guys after I finish my sightseeing?'

‘Sounds like a plan.' Suddenly, Vlad gave a low whistle and pointed up ahead. ‘Will you take a look at that vintage Harley?'

Marina stared at the gleaming motorcycle. It was attracting a fair bit of attention, mostly from the disembarking male passengers. A few even passed comment, and though the rider responded, he didn't remove his black helmet.

Marina slowed her pace as they approached the bike. There was something familiar about the rider. The broad shoulders, the long legs, the effortless balance as he sat astride the bike.

An image of Dean flashed in her mind, his body relaxed, rising and falling with the movement of the gondola as though he were an extension of it.

Excitement raced along her veins like an electric current.

It couldn't be!

But as they drew nearer, the rider pulled off his gloves and flipped up the perspex shield revealing the upper half of his face.

Marina blinked. There was no mistaking the keen gaze that peered at her from inside the helmet. ‘Dean?'

Beside her, Vlad stopped in his tracks.

Flustered, she turned to her friend. ‘You go on ahead. I'll be in touch.'

Vlad's gaze shifted from her face to Dean and back again. ‘Are you sure?'

Marina laid a hand on his arm, conscious of Dean watching the exchange with interest. ‘We know each other.'

Vlad gave a silent nod and Marina watched him go. Then she turned to Dean Logan. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘We've had a breakthrough. Victor Yu flew out of Melbourne the day after you left Sydney. Zurich via Singapore. The police have located a rental car he dumped a couple of miles from Tullamarine Airport.'

‘That
is
good news.' Marina ran an admiring eye over the bike, though personally she thought the man a lot more striking than the machine. ‘I was expecting the images to come in overnight.'

His eyes flicked from her cap to her bare legs and back again. ‘I have some with me, if you wouldn't mind taking a look.'

‘Of course.' While she was excited they were finally on Victor's trail, if she were honest, she was just as excited to discover Dean Logan was right here in Sicily.

He swung around and took a spare helmet from the storage compartment. ‘Well, so as not to entirely ruin your morning sightseeing, I was thinking we could look through them up at the Greco-Roman Amphitheatre. Would you like a ride?'

Marina flushed, her traitorous mind going in a completely different direction. ‘Sure.'

She couldn't see his mouth for the chin bar, but she could tell from the way his eyes crinkled at the corners that he was smiling.

‘You'll have to loosen your ponytail to get this on. Have you been on a motorbike before?'

She took off her cap, slid the band lower in her hair until it sat level with her nape. ‘Many times, mostly while I was studying in …'

She pulled herself up. She'd almost said ‘while I was studying in Vienna'. But Dean Logan only knew her as a violin teacher.

‘Boston?'

‘Hmm.'

He didn't seem to notice anything amiss, just stowed her cap before setting the helmet carefully on her head. He lifted up the shield and looked at her. ‘That okay?'

She nodded. ‘I haven't been on a bike for a long time.'

‘Raise your chin. This one has a strap.' Warm brown eyes roamed over her face. ‘I don't want to pinch your skin.'

Marina did as he asked, couldn't repress the shiver that passed through her as his fingers brushed her throat.

Oh God!

She needed to say something, needed a distraction from the heat of his fingers and the heady aroma of sun-warmed male skin.

‘I thought you were in Australia.'

‘Well …' His voice took on a conversational tone as he went about adjusting the strap to the correct length. ‘We've always suspected Yu was either paid to steal the designs, or he's a lone wolf who has plans to sell them on the black market. The logical place to do that is Europe. That's why I haven't gone home. I have excellent people looking after things from that end. I wish the investigation was moving a bit quicker though.'

Finally satisfied, he clicked the fastener together and handed her a pair of leather gloves. ‘Okay. So you know how to lean with the bike?'

Marina nodded and pulled on the gloves.

‘Handgrips or waist?'

‘Waist.' Her mouth went dry at the thought of holding onto Dean Logan, but that's the way Vlad had taught her and Elena. And she didn't want to take any chances with her wrist by holding onto handgrips.

‘Great. Climb on then and let me show you some Godfather country. Tap me on the shoulder when you're right to go.'

Placing her hands lightly on his shoulders for balance, Marina swung one leg across the bike. She took her time settling into the seat, not too far back, close enough so her knees flanked his thighs. While Dean pulled on his own gloves and held the bike steady, she looked down and found the footrests. Finally, she slid her troublesome left hand around his waist, flipped down her shield and tapped him on the shoulder.

He pressed the ignition button and the Harley roared to life, drawing the attention of the last of the stragglers disembarking the ship.

Marina gripped Dean's waist with both hands, holding tight as his feet came off the ground and he began turning the machine in a wide semicircle. He glanced in his side mirror, nodded once to make sure she was alright.

At her answering nod he accelerated and she held him tighter, leaning forward to counteract the natural inertia, head tucked close behind his. The powerful machine throbbed beneath her and Marina inched closer to his back, gripping him with her thighs as they leaned into the bends and roared up the tortuous road from the dock at Giardini Bay.

Strong muscles rippled beneath her hands as he manoeuvred the bike, sending sparks of heat charging through Marina's central nervous system. A warm breeze brushed her arms and legs and she smiled behind the perspex shield, exhilarated by the rush. It was as though her body had roused itself from a long, deep slumber.

They reached the top of the steep incline and the landscape levelled out. Ahead of them lay Taormina, the air heavy with the scent of bougainvillea and hundreds of lemon trees.

Dean slowed the bike to a more sedate pace and they rumbled through a quaint town square, dotted with shops, churches and outdoor cafes. Further along, they made a right-hand turn and kept climbing. Halfway up the hill, where the road turned into a car park, they left the bike and continued their journey on foot.

A short while later they were standing in the centre of the brick ruins, an imposing Greek-columned structure built into the mountaintop. Below them the aquamarine Bay of Nexos sparkled in the sunlight, and in the distance a plume of smoke rose from a smouldering Mount Etna.

‘This is magnificent.' Marina turned in a circle and gazed at the row upon row of seats rising steeply towards the sky. ‘Imagine the people who have played here over the centuries, what it must feel like to perform in this mini colosseum.'

‘They still hold concerts here.'

Marina turned to find him studying her. ‘Really? I didn't know it was still in use.'

‘Every year they hold a festival. I haven't been to it. I was moored here once when it was on.'

She couldn't imagine staying here and not taking the opportunity to attend an opera, a ballet or an orchestral performance, especially under the stars in an ancient theatre like this one.

Marina glanced at her companion in the soft blue tee-shirt with America's Cup printed on the breast pocket. The physical proximity on the bike ride had made her more comfortable around him, and despite the fact they were from different worlds and he didn't know who she really was, she still found him as disturbingly attractive as the night he'd smiled at her in the hotel.

‘Why don't you go up on the stage?' he said.

Marina shook her head and smiled a little. Her wrist had been fine so far, but playing in the string quartet was nowhere near as demanding as her real job. Standing on a stage would only remind her of everything that was in jeopardy. And she was feeling good right now.

‘Maybe later. I don't expect you to act as my tour guide. I should look at those images.'

He glanced at the iPad he'd taken from the bike's storage compartment and brought along with him. ‘Then let's go higher, so you can get the feel of what it's like to be a spectator.'

They climbed to the top of the outdoor theatre and Marina caught her breath at the sheer beauty of it all. She longed to explore further, but she had to be back on board by one, in time for the high tea performance at three.

They sat down and Dean opened the iPad. ‘These are the ones that came up in Mooney's initial searches. Have a look through them. It's a long shot, but hopefully one might jog your memory.'

Marina nodded and began scrolling through the images. There were guns, lots of guns, everything from ladies' pistols to rapid-fire AK47s and rocket launchers. There were a variety of snakes too, everything from wide-mouthed pythons to a grass snake sliding through the centre of an apple. Then the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end. The image was a snake emerging from the eye of a skull.