Fish & Chips by Madeleine Urban, Abigail Roux Page A

when they made port. Zane tried not to smile too much. It really was funny, if not somewhat shocking, listening to “Del” chatter. Ty was not what one would classify as a chatterbox. On the contrary he was—and Zane should have known better than to be surprised—a very competent conversationalist.
    Zane turned his attention to the room at large, acting content to take in the scenery as he studied their surroundings: emergency exits, windows, safety measures, hidden cameras, other vacationers, loads and loads of decorations. He listened with half an ear until a waiter of Hispanic extraction, dressed neatly in the khaki-colored pants, white button-down Oxford, and navy blue sweater that was the crew uniform, approached and started taking drink orders after handing out a single sheet luncheon menu.

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    After hearing a variety of requests rattled off by the other passengers, the waiter stopped and looked at Ty expectantly. Ty looked up at him and hesitated, obviously having forgotten to peruse the menu.
    “Anything you like, doll,” Zane spoke up smoothly, his low voice carrying.
    Ty glanced to him and back at the waiter, quickly ordering a three-course meal from the menu that included a beverage meant to complement the meal. Zane wasn"t sure if Ty had actually looked at it or just pointed.
    Zane skimmed the choices, picked a simple entrée and salad, and asked specifically for Evian rather than a cocktail. The waiter nodded, completed the other orders, and left. The conversation still went on around them, Ty speaking in the accent he"d almost perfected. Zane wasn"t hearing as many slips now as when they"d left the cabin. Ty even had the colloquialisms down when he used them. He might not have fooled a native, but he could have fooled Zane.
    When Ty let his fingers slide over Zane"s palm as he smiled at one of their tablemates, Zane predicted that by the time this lunch was over, Ty"s face was going to hurt from smiling so much.
    A member of the wait staff appeared with their beverages, placing a frozen, pale pink drink in front of Ty before moving on. Ty blinked at it, his nearly flawless façade wavering just slightly, but then he smiled and thanked the waiter as he reached for the peach Bellini.
    Zane leaned toward him and practically purred, “Enjoy it, doll, we"re here to celebrate, right?” He laid his hand on Ty"s forearm and squeezed gently. He figured they were doing pretty well assuming these identities, even if they were making it up left and right. They were playing off each other well. Like a real married couple. Something about that made Zane feel better than he thought he should.
    Ty squeezed his hand under the table, as if he knew what Zane had been thinking. A few moments later, Ty leaned toward him and said, “These pink things are actually pretty good.”
    Zane laughed quietly, and Ty leaned away again. From then on, Zane relaxed and smiled as he talked with the gentleman nearby about recent politics, assuming what he thought of as Corbin"s cocksure 70 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

    drawl. When he shifted his gaze to look toward Ty some minutes later, Zane found himself wondering where this charming talker had come from and how he"d be able to keep him after the case. And that surprised him enough that he didn"t hear the waiter speak to him.
    Zane blinked and realized he"d been staring when Ty nudged his knee expectantly under the table to prompt him. Then one of the women at the table tittered behind her hand, and instinct took over.
    Zane reached out to brush his knuckles lightly across Ty"s cheek as he smiled warmly and then turned his attention to the waiter, who was confirming his order before setting down his plate. Ty shivered involuntarily and shook his head, leaning away from Zane as the woman next to him asked him a question.
    Zane could hear the two other couples at the table murmuring, but he didn"t acknowledge it. He had gotten caught, after all. It seemed to him from