Fish & Chips Page 34
Zane stopped the rubbing and looked down to meet Ty"s eyes.
“Too hard?” He gently pressed his fingers against one of the recalcitrant knots.
“I"m not as sore as I was,” Ty murmured. “It just feels good. Are you still opposed to searching Armen"s suite?”
Zane kept up the petting, the fingers applying more pressure. “I think the chance of finding something useful is less than the chance of getting hurt,” he murmured. It wasn"t really an answer to the question.
But it wasn"t the flat “no” he"d given Ty earlier.
Ty raised one eyebrow in the mischievous smirk that Zane was probably all too familiar with. It probably looked odd upside down.
“That"s a solid maybe.”
“There are a hell of a lot of questions we don"t have answers for to try a search like that. We don"t even know if we can get into the room without the key card. Do you plan to pick Armen"s pocket?”
“I"m actually quite good at that,” Ty told him frankly. He moved, sliding away from Zane"s hands regretfully. He stood and turned to face Zane, and he winced as he said, “I kind of had a different idea.”
Zane"s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Well….” Ty glanced to the balcony and clucked his tongue. “Let me show you.” He waved for Zane to follow him. He stepped out onto the balcony and pointed at the thick partition that divided the balconies from their neighbors. “Armen"s suite is right next to ours, right?”
“That"s the suite we see him going in and out of, anyway,” Zane allowed as he moved to look at the balconies.
“And the one he told us he was in. So I figure maybe I can just…
swing over onto his balcony.”
Zane glanced over the edge of the railing and looked away with a roll of his eyes and a grimace. The ocean was quite a distance below.
The fall would likely be… painful.
“Okay,” Zane hedged. “Getting in isn"t much of a challenge. But getting Armen out might be. As far as I can tell, he goes to dinner and poker games, and that"s it.”
Ty shrugged. “So go to a poker game. Make sure I have at least thirty minutes to get in and get out.”
“There"s not another scheduled tournament until the end of the cruise,” Zane said. “He"s made it clear he"s not interested in socializing.” He huffed and walked back into the cabin, hands on his hips.
“So… ask him to meet you to talk business. Hell, maybe you"ll learn something.”
Zane didn"t look too happy, but he didn"t stomp on the idea. “I still think it"s a bad idea. We don"t know who else could be in there, and they"ve tried to kill you twice already.”
“Okay,” Ty agreed with a thoughtful nod. He glanced at the partition and stepped back into the suite, closing the door behind him.
“So we wait until dinner. Every time I"ve seen him at dinner, he has his bodyguards with him. I doubt they leave a man behind alone. Armen doesn"t seem the type to trust anyone that much. I"ll leave dinner early for some reason, and you make sure he stays there for at least half an hour.”
Zane nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was reluctant. “All right. I guess that"s about as good a setup as we"re going to get.”
Ty gave him a pleased smile. “Thank you.”
“I won"t be able to back you up if I"m playing nice with Armen at the table,” Zane pointed out.
“I can handle it,” Ty assured him. He stepped closer and clapped him on the shoulder. “I got along pretty well before you came along, remember?”
“I"m thinking about a few days ago,” Zane murmured.
Dolce and Gabbana. Ty cocked his head and smiled warmly. He stepped closer and pulled Zane near to him by his belt loops, then pressed his nose and lips to Zane"s cheek. Zane sighed quietly and slid his arms around Ty"s waist as he turned his face to catch a kiss on his lips instead.
“You look good today, Zane,” Ty commented in a low voice, smiling. “You look like bait.”
“Excuse me?” Zane"s voice rose at the end, and he leaned back to look at him.
Ty just looked at him, a small smile curling his lips.
“What are you planning now?” Zane asked, looking at Ty through narrowed eyes. “And what do you mean I look good today?” he tacked on.
Ty laughed lightly and kissed Zane again, just because he could.
Then he stepped away. “We need to try again to find our backup before dinner,” he told Zane as he turned away. “That should frustrate us both.”
THE crystal lowball glasses held the finest in Scotch whiskey. Distilled on the Isle of Skye eighteen years ago, with additional spices introduced to produce a distinctive flavor that was often described as fiery, the liquor had a dark color and singular nose, not to be mistaken for any other whiskey.
The bartender set the glasses on a tray atop two navy blue napkins to match the ship"s flags. The other drinks intended for the table stood on green and gold napkins to match, and he signaled to the waitress that the tray was ready.
The bartender moved on to the next order. A man seated at the bar turned to look at the drinks, then carefully peered over his shoulder to check the waitress" progress. She was nowhere near, and he furtively moved to open the hidden packet he slid out of his sleeve and hastily dribbled the contents into each of the lowball glasses.
The poison had no smell and very little taste. The salty Talisker the extravagant Italian had ordered for the two gay men would mask it nicely.
He took out another packet, preparing to seed the drinks of the Italians next, but movement caught his eye, and he was forced to move away as the waitress made her way toward the bar.
She lifted the tray of drinks expertly into the air, whisking it above the heads of the other diners toward the round table near the corner of the dining room. A somewhat sedate round of thanks greeted her arrival with the libations.
She placed the blue napkins and their glasses in front of their intended recipients, the dark whiskey concealing the deadly contents.
THEY sat at the elegant table near the dance floor, Ty with one hand on the white linen in front of him and the other in Zane"s lap, his fingers laced among Zane"s. Zane hoped that holding onto each other would give them some measure of composure from which to draw patience.
They had looked yet again for any of the other team members, even pretending to stumble into some service areas, and finding no one had just added to their frustration. Either they were doing a better job of being discreet than Ty had given them credit for, or something had gone wrong.
Even a team relegated to invisible emergency backup had to be more available than this.
Zane had called an abrupt halt to the search so they could get ready for dinner, and they had arrived just after Lorenzo and Norina Bianchi. Now they were making small talk over the live band playing old, romantic torch songs, waiting for Vartan Armen and the show Zane was sure to come. Finally, after eight days, a real lead to the smuggling ring"s business would have to present itself. As undercover operations went, eight days was nothing. It was the environs and the whole “married couple” situation with Ty that made it so surreal.
Norina leaned slightly toward Ty after the waitress set a champagne flute on a green napkin in front of her. “Are you enjoying the cruise, Del? Can you believe it is already halfway over?” she asked in a pleasant tone. Her husband looked on tolerantly from her other side.
Ty smiled at her and nodded, leaning back a bit to make room for the server. “It"s been quite pleasant,” he answered stiffly. He couldn"t seem to muster the energy to be effusive with her anymore. He had done an admirable job before tonight, though. He"d lasted longer than Zane would have predicted.
“Oh, my poor Del,” Norina said sympathetically as she patted his cheek with her hand. “You have had a stressful time, no? It is settled, then. Tomorrow while they play with their toys, perhaps you and I, we will have fun somewhere else? Perhaps some time with the masseuse?”
“Del enjoys anything that makes him more beautiful,” Zane drawled as he listened in.
Ty looked sideways at Zane, giving him a brief, hateful look. But he chose to ignore the comment and looked back at Norina with a weak smile. “As long as the fun doesn"t involve climbing,” he said to her.
She laughed lightly. “My fun has nothing to do with climbing.”
“I"m sure you"ll have a great time,” Zane said, trying to keep the atmosphere pleasant. “I"ll be happy knowing Del is entertained while I"m working.”
“If they have money to spend, they will be happy,” Bianchi predicted as he leaned sideways in his chair.
Norina lightly slapped his hand. “It will keep my lonely thoughts from you.”
Ty sniffed at them both, obviously insulted but holding his tongue as Armen strolled up to the table.
“Apologies for my tardiness,” the man murmured as he pulled out the seat next to Zane and sat down. He didn"t offer an excuse.
Zane smiled politely. “Not at all. We were just passing the time.”
“I ordered drinks for us all, Signor Armen,” Bianchi declared.
“Very well,” Armen murmured as he glanced toward the bar.
“I think I would like the seafood tonight, Lorenzo,” Norina said as she perused the menu.
“After fish the last three meals, I am not surprised, my gioia.
Order whatever you like,” Bianchi said.
Ty looked down and rubbed at his forehead uncomfortably. Zane knew he wished the two Italians would ease up on the lovey-dovey stuff a little. It was getting on his nerves, so Zane knew it had to be aggravating Ty, who reached for his glass of Scotch. Apparently he was figuring he might as well make the best of it if the criminals were footing the bill.
Watching as Ty picked up the heavy crystal lowball glass and raised it to his lips, Zane could almost feel the spicy liquid burning its way to the back of his throat, and the thought was enough to raise the hairs on his arms even before Ty took a swallow.
He"d be able to taste it on Ty"s tongue.
“I see Del is anxious for a toast, no?” Bianchi said with a hearty laugh.
Ty cleared his throat before ever taking a sip, and he put the glass down with an apologetic smile.
“We"re just pleased to be here,” Zane said. He glanced to his own glass and decided he wasn"t even going to pick it up. He"d toast with the water glass, bad luck and cover identity be damned.
“Then let us toast to pleasure,” Bianchi started, raising his glass.
Armen and Ty both held their glasses out, and Zane reached for his water glass. Norina delicately touched her champagne glass to her husband"s, and Zane couldn"t help but watch as Ty put his glass to his lips again.
Ty had been right: putting two of the things Zane was addicted to together like this was sort of cruel.
The band struck the opening chord on a new song, and Norina clapped and bounced excitedly as she grabbed at Ty"s arm. The whiskey in his glass sloshed, and he pulled it away from his face before it could spill across his lap.
“A tango! Del, you must dance with me! Please, tesoro, let us dance while you do your boring things,” Norina said as she turned to her husband.
“Ah, the whims of a woman,” Bianchi said fondly. “If you must.”
Norina turned to Ty, one graceful hand outstretched. “You promised me a tango while at sea.”
Ty stared at her, eyes slightly wide. “I did?” he asked, obviously caught off guard. “I did,” he repeated more confidently, trying to cover his initial reaction as he took her hand gingerly. He glanced at Zane as if seeking rescue.
Zane raised both brows and shrugged, though he felt a wash of anxiety. He had no idea if Ty knew how to tango. On a dance floor, anyway. It wasn"t exactly the type of thing one learned in a bar. “Go ahead, doll. I"m sure there will be more songs for us to dance to this evening.”
Ty gave him the most evil glare Zane thought he had ever seen, but he stood and held Norina"s hand as she rose. The others stood as she did, and Ty escorted her away from the table like a perfect gentleman, leading her out onto the open dance floor in the middle of the dining room.
“Ah, our loved ones are such delights, are they not?” Bianchi said as he swirled the liquor in his glass.
“Delights. Right,” Zane murmured as he kept his eyes on the couple. There weren"t many brave enough to dance the tango, which made Ty and Norina all the more conspicuous. Zane would bet his recent windfall that Ty wouldn"t have walked out there without at least some idea of how to tango, but he was still worried. There was nowhere for Ty to hide.
The melody restarted.
When they started dancing, it was a slow, almost tentative start.
More stop and go than a smooth flow of steps. But Zane knew that was how most tangos started. They didn"t miss any steps, and Norina was smiling as they turned in a half-circle. Then the music picked up, becoming more robust, and Ty whirled Norina around in time with the music and dipped her grandly as she laughed. That was when they truly began dancing.
Zane almost broke cover and showed his surprise as he watched.
Ty could tango. And pretty damn well. Surprise, surprise.
The diners at the tables nearest the dance floor were watching the four couples dancing. All of them were quite good, but Ty and Norina were the only ones who were truly fun to watch. Two attractive people with shining personalities who knew what they were doing and enjoyed doing it—they were hard not to watch.
“Ah, he makes my gioia smile,” Bianchi remarked, his voice full of pride. “She is so beautiful,” he added, almost to himself. A man truly in love.