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her. He wasn’t built lightly at all, she realized as he tucked her hand against his body. The guy had some very real muscle. Her imagination instantly conjured up images of washboard abs and cannonball shoulders.
    â€œJust call me Sir Galahad,” he said. “So, where do you want to go?”
    â€œLet’s find a nightcap.”
    â€œYou sure? We’ve been drinking for the last two hours. Have you had dinner?”
    Gwen thought back but couldn’t remember. “Something on the plane, maybe.” He was an inch or two taller than she was, even in her spike heels, she realized. There was something alarmingly cozy about him standing there holding her hand against him protectively.
    He looked down at her a moment and considered. “Howabout if we go to the Reef Bar. Maybe we can get some food there. Trust me, you’ll be happier tomorrow.”
    The bar was dark and yet lit with an aqua luminescence from the aquarium that took up one wall. Tropical fish made bright flashes of color amid rocks and waving green fronds. Music played in the background, but there was no crowd and no dance floor.
    Quiet and dark was perfect for her purposes, Gwen thought as they took seats off in a corner. Or maybe not. The tabletop was about the size of a dinner plate, she realized. By the time she’d scooted onto her high stool, she found herself much, much closer to him than she’d anticipated. Close enough to find herself staring at that enticing mouth. Close enough to find herself noticing the way the aqua light reflected off his cheekbones. He really was gorgeous, she realized, not to mention sexy as hell.
    Okay, reality check. Getting distracted was not good. She was here only to try to track down Jerry. Recreation with Rennie—one of the bad guys—was out of the question.
    On the other hand, she’d do what was necessary to accomplish her purpose.
    A waitress appeared, dressed in the bikini top and sarong uniform of the bar. “What’ll it be, folks?”
    Rennie studied the drinks card that sat on the table. “An Anchor Steam for me,” he said. “And an order of potato skins.”
    â€œSorry, guys, kitchen’s closed. If you want food, you’ll have to go to the coffee shop.”
    â€œLet’s stick here,” Gwen said quickly. No way did she want to go to a bright and noisy coffee shop. Anyway, Nina would probably sniff at coffee. She’d want a real drink. “How about a Courvoisier?” She wasn’t exactly sure what Courvoisier tasted like, but she liked the idea of swirling a brandy glass.
    His eyes were very dark in the dim light as he studied her. “My name is Del, by the way.”
    Gwen leaned closer to him. “What?”
    â€œMy name. It’s not Galahad, it’s Del.”
    â€œDel?” All the fun evaporated in an instant. She stared at him. “Wait a minute. You’re joking, right? I thought your name was Rennie.”
    He shook his head. “’Fraid not.”
    Disaster, Gwen thought. It was a disaster. This was supposed to be Rennie, her conduit, the one who was going to lead her to Jerry. If he wasn’t, then she was back to square one, no better off than she’d been when she’d walked into the casino. Worse, because Rennie had been around there somewhere. Now where was she? No lead, no closer to finding the stamps. Instead she was stuck here with him while the true Rennie was still out in the casino somewhere. She struggled to master her disappointment.
    And ignore the small, sneaky sense of relief that lurked underneath.
    â€œSo, where’d you get the idea I was—who was it— Ronnie?”
    â€œRennie. That’s what the dealer called you.”
    He looked at her, mystified.
    â€œBefore I sat down,” Gwen clarified. “I thought the dealer said something like ‘You always win, Rennie.’”
    She watched the answer dawn. “Ah. She was joking around