"No, Jeffrey never takes partners. He works alone." She gave him a fierce glance. "And he's not really a criminal. Not like those cockatrices."

"Really? Well, what kind of criminal is he?" Beau asked idly. "I gather he was scheduled to transport this cocaine illegally into the U.S. I believe that constitutes smuggling and the last I heard that was considered very criminal indeed. Are you saying he's not a smuggler?"

"No." She frowned unhappily. "Yes. Oh, I guess he is, but he doesn't look at it that way. He never smuggles drugs or liquor or anything that could actually hurt someone."

"It's unfortunate that the authorities don't regard the smuggling of things that don't actually hurt someone as all right."

"Jeffrey is a throwback to another era. He sees himself as some sort of Henry Morgan or Jean Laffite." She shrugged helplessly. "He regards smuggling as a sort of modern-day gentleman's adventurous pastime."

"And do you feel the same way?"

She shook her head. "No," she said simply. "But I know he believes it, and that's enough for me."

"Such devotion." There was a barbed sting to his mockery. "Your lover must be very grateful for such an understanding mistress, as well as such an enterprising one. How often do you drag him out of situations like that one tonight?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Jeffrey isn't my lover." It never occurred to her he would think that but it was also obvious that for some reason the idea didn't sit well with him.

His gaze flew swiftly to her face. "Then the other one?"

"Julio?" She had to laugh. "Julio's only eighteen."

"He looks older. I would have said he was at least twenty-five." His lips quirked again. "And an old lady like you isn't interested in younger men, I take it?"

"Julio's been through a lot. His life has been very difficult." Her expression was suddenly sober. "We're all friends, that's all. We take care of each other." Her clear blue eyes held a childlike gravity as they looked up at him. "Haven't you ever had a woman as a friend?"