wishing the beach weren't quite so deserted.
She also found herself remembering something Jarrett had said about not knowing what the Clydemores might do when they discovered the statue was missing. But, then, she didn't really believe the Clydemores were guilty of the theft in the first place, did she?
"We saw you leave the hotel, Hannah," Alice began coolly as she and her husband came to a halt. The older woman's blue eyes were hard this morning, completely lacking in the usual warm charm Hannah had come to expect. "We've been waiting for a chance to see you alone. That Adams character who's been hanging around has monopolized you completely lately, hasn't he?"
"I don't know what you mean," Hannah began awkwardly, her mouth going dry just as her palms began to grow damp. There was no kidding herself now. The Clydemores were angry, which meant they must be guilty of having stolen that damned statue.
"Let's not beat around the bush," John Clydemore ordered flatly. "We want the statue back, Hannah. I don't know what kind of game you're playing or who you're working with, but it's over. The statue belongs to us."
"Then you shouldn't have let me run the risk of carrying it through U.S. Customs!" Hannah flared, deciding there was no point pretending ignorance now. What could they do to her here on the beach?
Soon other people would begin filtering out of the hotels. As soon as someone else appeared, Hannah decided, she would call for help.
"I'm afraid we're becoming a bit too familiar to certain Customs officials," John Clydemore drawled.
"Your naive, wholesome little face was exactly the sort we needed. I'll admit you had us fooled as well as Customs!"
"Who would have thought you were in the business?" Alice asked in tones of great disgust. "All that sweetness and light, taking care of the Tyler brat, buying all those junky souvenirs from every vendor with a sales pitch…"
"They aren't junky!"
Alice Clydemore ignored the interruption. "Gathering shells along every beach like a little kid, reading all those romances set in the South Seas as 'research,' helping every little old lady on the tour with her luggage and her problems. It's a hell of an act, Hannah, I'll give you that. Even had John and me fooled.
But the game's over. Where's the statue?"
Hannah licked her lips and took a deep breath. A male figure dressed in khakis had emerged from the hotel entrance and was moving up the beach with a steady, strong stride. He was too far away to allow Hannah to see his features clearly, but there was something very familiar about his smooth, gliding pace.
A sensation of relief swept through her. Jarrett was approaching.
"Mr. and Mrs. Clydemore," she began firmly, "I did not steal your stupid statue. I suggest you take the matter up with the gentleman who is coming toward us. I believe the three of you will have a lot to discuss, if I'm not mistaken. I, however, am not involved, so if you will excuse me…"
"Hold on, Hannah," John Clydemore said smoothly. "You're not going anywhere."
"Who's going to stop me?" she demanded, feeling more hostile than she had ever felt in her entire life.
How dare all these people use her as a pawn in their smuggling games? "I've about had it with all three of you, do you hear me?" she went on aggressively as Jarrett came within listening distance. She sent him her most ferocious frown, a part of her thinking that this wasn't the most romantic "morning after" a woman had ever experienced. And it was all Jarrett's fault. "Jarrett, tell your friends here to leave me alone. You three can squabble about that damn statue as long as you like. But count me out!"
"That's exactly what we're going to do," Jarrett agreed easily. One dark brow arched in a gesture of command. "Go back to the hotel and wait for me, Hannah. I'll be along as soon as the Clydemores and I have sorted this out."
"Stop giving me orders!" Hannah yelped, even though going back to the hotel was exactly what she intended to
She also found herself remembering something Jarrett had said about not knowing what the Clydemores might do when they discovered the statue was missing. But, then, she didn't really believe the Clydemores were guilty of the theft in the first place, did she?
"We saw you leave the hotel, Hannah," Alice began coolly as she and her husband came to a halt. The older woman's blue eyes were hard this morning, completely lacking in the usual warm charm Hannah had come to expect. "We've been waiting for a chance to see you alone. That Adams character who's been hanging around has monopolized you completely lately, hasn't he?"
"I don't know what you mean," Hannah began awkwardly, her mouth going dry just as her palms began to grow damp. There was no kidding herself now. The Clydemores were angry, which meant they must be guilty of having stolen that damned statue.
"Let's not beat around the bush," John Clydemore ordered flatly. "We want the statue back, Hannah. I don't know what kind of game you're playing or who you're working with, but it's over. The statue belongs to us."
"Then you shouldn't have let me run the risk of carrying it through U.S. Customs!" Hannah flared, deciding there was no point pretending ignorance now. What could they do to her here on the beach?
Soon other people would begin filtering out of the hotels. As soon as someone else appeared, Hannah decided, she would call for help.
"I'm afraid we're becoming a bit too familiar to certain Customs officials," John Clydemore drawled.
"Your naive, wholesome little face was exactly the sort we needed. I'll admit you had us fooled as well as Customs!"
"Who would have thought you were in the business?" Alice asked in tones of great disgust. "All that sweetness and light, taking care of the Tyler brat, buying all those junky souvenirs from every vendor with a sales pitch…"
"They aren't junky!"
Alice Clydemore ignored the interruption. "Gathering shells along every beach like a little kid, reading all those romances set in the South Seas as 'research,' helping every little old lady on the tour with her luggage and her problems. It's a hell of an act, Hannah, I'll give you that. Even had John and me fooled.
But the game's over. Where's the statue?"
Hannah licked her lips and took a deep breath. A male figure dressed in khakis had emerged from the hotel entrance and was moving up the beach with a steady, strong stride. He was too far away to allow Hannah to see his features clearly, but there was something very familiar about his smooth, gliding pace.
A sensation of relief swept through her. Jarrett was approaching.
"Mr. and Mrs. Clydemore," she began firmly, "I did not steal your stupid statue. I suggest you take the matter up with the gentleman who is coming toward us. I believe the three of you will have a lot to discuss, if I'm not mistaken. I, however, am not involved, so if you will excuse me…"
"Hold on, Hannah," John Clydemore said smoothly. "You're not going anywhere."
"Who's going to stop me?" she demanded, feeling more hostile than she had ever felt in her entire life.
How dare all these people use her as a pawn in their smuggling games? "I've about had it with all three of you, do you hear me?" she went on aggressively as Jarrett came within listening distance. She sent him her most ferocious frown, a part of her thinking that this wasn't the most romantic "morning after" a woman had ever experienced. And it was all Jarrett's fault. "Jarrett, tell your friends here to leave me alone. You three can squabble about that damn statue as long as you like. But count me out!"
"That's exactly what we're going to do," Jarrett agreed easily. One dark brow arched in a gesture of command. "Go back to the hotel and wait for me, Hannah. I'll be along as soon as the Clydemores and I have sorted this out."
"Stop giving me orders!" Hannah yelped, even though going back to the hotel was exactly what she intended to
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