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“Of course,” Jason said, his hand on my elbow.
When Tristan went back inside to talk to Gino, Jason said, “Why don’t you come to my place? I’ll sleep on the couch if you’d be more comfortable.”
The offer endeared him to me, but I declined. “I’m okay.Just really mad.” Really, really,reallymad. And a teeny-tiny bit worried. Who knew the importance of the book?
“I can stay here,” he suggested.
“Under any other circumstances, I’d love that, but I wouldn’t be good company right now.” I took his hands. Damn, I had beenso closeto having what I knew—based on the way he kissed, the way he used his hands—would have been the best sex of my life. And now the moment was gone. Maybe we could recreate the magic of the lagoon before I left, but right now I was fuming. The idea that someone had been in my space, going through my things. Maybe it should have scared me, but instead of fear, all I felt was anger.
“Are you sure nothing else was taken? Why would someone take a book and not your jewelry or computer?”
Because the book had information, information that might point to Diana’s killer. But I didn’t say that.
“I don’t know,” I muttered, feeling a tiny bit guilty I didn’t tell Jason the truth.
We sat on the patio and watched Tristan instructing a housecleaning crew. The security team left with Tristan, but Gino stood in the middle of the room, observing. I watched him. He gave no hint that he’d been here earlier, but I didn’t trust him.
I shivered, and Jason wrapped his arm around me, taking it as a sign of me being cold and not creeped out by Gino.
“I’m really sorry this happened,” he said.
In that moment, I saw a flash of anger in Jason’s expression. Not once had he shown anything except calm and concern, until now. I touched his shoulder. His muscles were tense. The anger wasn’t gone, just buried. This was a side of Jason I hadn’t expected. There was fun Jason, romantic Jason, passionate Jason, concerned Jason. Now angry Jason.
There was far more to Jason Mallory than sexy, daredevil, fun-loving bartender.
I almost blurted out everything about Diana’s book, including my theory that blackmail was always a great motive formurder. Yet... I pulled back. Because I didn’t actually have proof of anything, even that Diana had written in the book.
But I wanted to tell him something, so after working through ideas in my head, I finally said, “I picked up the book at the gift shop, and someone had written in the margins. Maybe the notes were important to whoever wrote them.”
His brows furrowed. “What kind of notes?”
I shrugged, feeling bad about lying to him. “They seemed like a personal shorthand. Some numbers and letters and doodles that really didn’t make sense.”
“And you bought it here, at our gift shop?”
“It was on the free table. I left the book I read on the plane and picked that one up.”
At least I gave himsometruthful information.
“Why wouldn’t the person just ask you for the book back?” Jason wondered.
Because she’s dead.But I just shrugged.
“You should tell Gino,” Jason continued. “It might help find out who did this.”
“He doesn’t believe me.”
“He does. He’s an ex-cop and suspicious of everyone.” Jason took my hand, kissed it. Leaned over, kissed me. “Are youreallyokay?” he whispered.
“Yeah.” I would be, when everyone got out of my room. “It’s still my birthday, so I was thinking about going on the sunset cruise tonight, if you’re working it.”
“I am.” He smiled. He still looked worried, but a touch of his humor was back. “I’ll be done thirty minutes after we dock. I have an idea of what we can do after the cruise.”
“So do I,” I said.
He grinned. “That, too, but something else. You’ll love it. I promise.” He kissed me again. And again. My tension drained away.
“I’ll hold you to that,” I said.