“We’ll go to the bank now.” It had taken him two days to match the key with a name. He wasn’t going to waste any more time.

Liz followed him out onto the street. True, she hadn’t come to enjoy herself, but a look at their rooms and a bite of lunch didn’t seem so much to ask. Jonas was already climbing into a cab. “I don’t suppose you’d considered making that a request.”

He gave her a brief look as she slammed the cab door. “No.” After giving the driver their direction, Jonas settled back. He could understand Jerry drifting to Acapulco, with its jet-set flavor, frantic nightlife and touches of luxury. When Jerry landed in a place for more than a day, it was a city that had the atmosphere of New York, London, Chicago. Jerry had never been interested in the rustic, serene atmosphere of a spot like Cozumel. So since he’d gone there, stayed there, he’d had a purpose. In Acapulco, Jonas would find out what it was.

As to the woman beside him, he didn’t have a clue. Was she caught up in the circumstances formed before they’d ever met, or was he dragging her in deeper than he had a right to? She sat beside him, silent and a little sulky. Probably thinking about her shop, Jonas decided, and wished he could send her safely back to it. He wished he could turn around, go back to the villa and make love with her until they were both sated.

She shouldn’t have appealed to him at all. She wasn’t witty, flawlessly polished or classically beautiful. But she did appeal to him, so much so that he was spending his nights awake and restless, and his days on the edge of frustration. He wanted her, wanted to fully explore the tastes of passion she’d given him. He wanted to arouse her until she couldn’t think of accounts or customers or schedules. Perhaps it was a matter of wielding power—he could no longer be sure. But mostly, inexplicably, he wanted to erase the memory of how she’d looked when he’d walked into her daughter’s room and found her clutching a stuffed bear.

When the cab rolled up in front of the bank, Liz stepped out on the curb without a word. There were shops across the streets, boutiques where she could see bright, wonderful dresses on cleverly posed mannequins. Even with the distance, she caught the gleam and glimmer of jewelry. A limousine rolled by, with smoked glass windows and quiet engine. Liz looked beyond the tall, glossy buildings to the mountains, and space.

“I suppose this is the sort of place that appeals to you.”