Thomas

I'm not sure how I managed to get my hand to close the magazine; certainly the rest of my body didn't want to, but I flipped the pages shut and sat back crossing my arms. I sort of had to; part of me was pretending to be furious and another part was . . . well you get the picture.

And it had been, well, quite a picture.

"Well, yes, that's certainly all out there," Sylvia murmured and I got the feeling she was trying not to laugh. I didn't dare look at Daisy at this point so I settled for channeling my anger into my next comment.

"It's . . . indefensible," I snarled. "And this meeting is a complete waste of time."

"Now now," Sylvia tried to soothe me. "We all make mistakes and do things that are . . . regrettable. Fact of life, you know."

"Not in my life," I snapped and got up, mostly because I didn't think I could handle staying much longer. "I'm going to the bar. Don't wait up, Marsha."

I strode out and actually did what I'd said, ordering a beer and nursing it for a while for the look of the thing. Kinda overpriced but I was in a good position to watch the doorways of the meeting rooms and take note of the other couples.

Gave me time to . . . cool down as the saying goes.

The touristy pair looked more confused than upset, and the man talking to them had to be Julius, Sylvia's partner in crime. He had his white hair slicked back with too much Brylcreem and a blinding set of dentures—typical used car salesman style. Whatever he was saying to the tourists seemed reassuring and he sent them out before spying me and strolling over.

"Ah, Mr. Smith. I don't believe we've met. I'm Julius Sloan, of Dynamic Conflict Resolutions."

I grunted.

"You know, resolutions takes time," he told me, shifting into a well-practiced spiel. "And while you're upset now and rightly so, things will work out."

"Certainly. A divorce will settle it."

"Now now," he looked a little alarmed and I could see why; a divorce would render the blackmail material void. "That's drastic-your wife loves you."

"Debatable," I replied.

"I'm sure she does," Julius told me. "After all, the two of you are here so it's clear you want to work this out and move past it. Yours isn't the only marriage with a few little flaws, you know. I hope the two of you will come to the little dinner in the Sunset room tonight and you'll see—you're not alone."

I made a non-committal sound but Julius just flashed his choppers at me. "There you go; that's the spirit!" He clapped my shoulder and left, which was good since I really wanted a moment to consider my next move.

My client had mentioned that the weekend consisted of the aforementioned dinner followed by some sort of trust games on Saturday. I knew that Sylvia and Julius were somewhere on the tenth floor and figured it was time to find out which room.

So I picked up one of the stationary envelopes in the lobby and addressed it to Sylvia, figuring it would be my key to finding out where she was.

"I hate to admit this, but I need to return this right away to Sylvia Neill?" I told the busy young clerk behind the counter. She looked up at me and I gave her my most chagrined expression. "One of her credit cards—she left it behind when we had lunch together and I want to get it back to her as soon as possible."

"I can take that for you," she offered but I didn't hand it over.

"It's all right," I assured her and lowered my voice. "She's older and having a few . . . memory problems these days. I really don't want to embarrass her-just wanted to slip it under her door so she can keep her dignity intact. My good deed for the day." I did my best to look like a Boy Scout.

"Well isn't that sweet of you!" the clerk beamed. "Hang on."

Within a minute I learned that Sylvia was in room 1023. With that little bit of information, I felt confident that it was just a matter of time before get in and see what Sylvia might be hoarding. I wandered around the hotel and eventually found Daisy out at the pool where she wasn't alone.

She was looking cute in a flowered one-piece suit, showing a little boy how to cannonball off the side and I watched her patiently explain it, encouraging him to tuck his legs up and hit with water just right. Daisy was good at it, cheering him on and grinning with him when it got a really good one in that soaked part of the surrounding pool deck. I sauntered over between splashes and squatted down to talk to her.

"Nice job, coach."

Daisy

I decided to hit the pool after Magnum took off since cooling off myself would be a good idea. We had a room on the 6th floor and it was pretty nice—double beds so we wouldn't have any problems there, thank goodness. Once I was down in the pool I met Riley and showed him the fine art of displacing as much water as possible, which is always fun.

I like kids. Hope to have a few myself someday because honestly, they're pretty neat. Anyway, Riley saw that Magnum wanted to talk to me so he gave me a hug and scooted off as I swung myself up to sit on the side of the pool. "I have my moments. What's up?"

"I've got Sylvia's room number so I'd like a chance to snoop around in it. If I can get you to keep her busy after dinner tonight that would be my chance," I told her. "Think you can handle that?"

I nodded. "Sure. So are we going to be fighting still, or on the verge of making up?"

"Does it make a difference?" He looked curious and I nodded.

"If we're still fighting they might consider us a lost cause," I pointed out. "But if we look like we're going to make a go of it, I think Sylvia and Julius will be a lot more attentive."

He nodded at that. "Okay. Any ideas?"

"Some hand-holding might help," I snickered. "When's the dinner?"

"Around six I think," he told me, glancing away. "Um, you've still got some gold in a few places, Daisy."

"I what?" I glanced down and sure enough, there were traces glittering on my décolleté. "Ohh."

He grinned and walked away, but not before I splashed his pant leg.

-oo00oo—

We made it through dinner smiling and looking a little less combative. I talked to Sylvia and gave Magnum time to go do his snooping thing so when he showed up back at the room I was already in my standard shortie pajamas, watching the end of a movie on TV.

"So I found a couple of files . . . hey, that's . . ." he pointed at the screen. "The Great Escape!"

"Yep. McQueen and Garner in their prime, along with McCallum," I replied, patting the bed next to me. "Almost over."

He happily dropped on the mattress next to me and settled in; we both winced at the gruesome scene where Gordon Jackson and company get shot by the Nazis. "Damn it," I sighed. "Well at least Garner survives."

"I thought you'd be rooting for McQueen, given his background with stunts," Magnum commented.

"Nah, he was kind of a jerk," I sighed. "Okay to stunt people but not so much to women in general. At least Garner has a reputation for being nice."

"Yeah."

After the credits rolled we both stayed put, propped up against the headboard in the lamplight and I looked at him. "So you found files?"

"Files," he agreed. "Apparently Anna and Lars have an open marriage; Elliot and Jane have been fighting for years over an embezzling incident. Not earth-shaking secrets but enough to keep paying out for a while I guess."

"Huh." I gave a shrug. "I guess our secret's the most scandalous of the bunch."

After a minute Magnum spoke again, his voice lower. "Could have been worse. You could have told them you like . . . tying people up."

I took a breath. "And that I like being tied up. Yeah, that revelation probably would have made Sylvia's dentures fall out."

He grinned, which made his dimples show and I liked that. "So . . . why?"

I knew what Magnum meant, and took my time responding. "Because it's . . . intense. Emotionally intense, Tomcat. It involves trust and focus and a sort of honesty right from the start," I told him. "You don't just grab a rope and start making knots, no, you . . . talk. About being safe. About what's allowed and wanted. Especially about what's NOT allowed or wanted. The . . . attention is powerful."

He seemed to take that in, which I appreciated, giving it a good mulling over. "So it's . . . negotiated."

"Very much so," I murmured feeling a little flushed. "Nothing's left to chance."

"But it's not . . . sex."

"It's . . . different," I told him. "Sex in your head. Physical sex is simple. Kinbaku teaches you what really turns you on."

Saying it scared me a little but he didn't fidget or change the subject or laugh. No instead Magnum turned his head to look at me. "How do you decide who . . . does what?"

I laughed. "That's . . . negotiated too. Depends on whether you want to be in charge, or if you want to be told what to do. If you're in charge, you wear the rope. If you're following directions, you're not."

He blinked those big green eyes and I wanted to laugh at his confusion. "Tomcat . . . are you . . . interested?"