The Fiancée Caper. Maureen Child
go after Jean Luc until after that.”
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
He sucked in a gulp of air and tried to force the bubble of anger rising inside back down into the pit of his stomach. It was one thing for her to extort his cooperation in a ridiculous theft recovery. It was another entirely for her to expect him to introduce her to his family as a lovely blackmailer.
“This is the baptism of my sister’s child. I can’t bring a stranger along with me.”
Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face. “You’ll have to find a way.”
His gaze shifted from her to the wall of windows at her back and the dark view of the city beyond the glass. In the distance, he saw the lights on the Millennium Wheel—better known as the London Eye. Any other night, he might have been distracted by the sight. Tonight, though, there were too many thoughts. Too many mental images flashing through his brain.
He couldn’t avoid going to Tesoro. Not only would his sister, Teresa, never forgive him for missing her infant son’s christening, but there was also going to be a big jewelry show on the island that week and Interpol wanted him there. Gianni smirked to himself at the irony of Interpol wanting a thief there to keep an eye out for other thieves—when Marie O’Hara wanted the same thing.
Taking another sip of the tea he no longer wanted, he silently toasted himself. Suddenly so very popular.
Accepting the inevitable, which was a trait that had kept him alive and out of jail too many times to count, Gianni looked at her. “As you wish. You’ll come to Tesoro with me and when we leave, we’ll fly to Monaco to retrieve your bloody necklace.”
“Sounds good to me.” She stood up, slipped the long, cross-body strap of her purse over her head and settled it into place. “When do we leave?”
Gianni stood up, too, scowling at having all choice snatched from him. He wasn’t used to being outmaneuvered, but damned if he hadn’t been this time. “We leave in three days.”
“Three days?” She chewed at her bottom lip and he knew what she was thinking. How could she keep an eye on him from her hotel, wherever that was, and prevent him from ditching her?
He’d thought the same and there really was only one solution to this entire situation. “You’ll stay here.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’ll need the three days to practice,” he told her, stepping away from the table and giving his chair one last frown.
“To practice what?”
His gaze flashed to hers. Finally, there was doubt, questions in her eyes. Somehow, that made him feel a bit better about all of this. “Why, to practice being a couple.”
“A couple of what?”
Her voice hitched higher and Gianni enjoyed her outrage.
“My family will never accept my bringing a stranger along to my new nephew’s christening—” He paused for effect and watching her reaction was entirely worth it when he added, “So for the next week or so, you’re going to be my loving fiancée.”
“Fiancée?” Marie repeated the word as if somehow hearing it again would make a difference. It didn’t. “Are you crazy?”
“Not at all.” He stood with the windows at his back and the city of London spread out behind him, aglow with light and color. “If you want to accompany me to the island, then this is how we do it. My family would never accept my bringing a stranger to a christening—”
“Oh,” Marie interrupted, astonished at this whole idea, “but they’ll accept that you’re engaged to someone they’ve never heard of?”
He shrugged and the play of muscles across his chest at that action was impressive.
“My family knows nothing about my private life. They’ll believe me if I tell them you swept me off my feet.”
She laughed shortly. This couldn’t be happening. Gianni Coretti’s fiancée?
“I don’t like the idea of lying to my family,” he continued, “but I don’t see another way for this to work.”
“There’s honesty,” Marie reminded him.
“You call me a thief and then want honesty?”
Well, he had her there. But she really didn’t like the idea of this at all. Not that she’d feel badly about lying in the pursuit of justice, but she was going to be feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Pretending an engagement meant they would have to act as though they were in love—and at the moment, she wasn’t sure she even liked him.
“Second thoughts?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest and rocking back on his heels, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “It’s that police-officer background of yours. Lying comes harder to you people.”
“Aren’t you the understanding one?”
“So I’ve been told,” he said agreeably. “It doesn’t have to be this way. If you’d rather just wait and have me do this on my own—”
“No.” She had him with the threat to his father and she knew it. But if she gave him half a chance, he might just disappear and find a way to make his father disappear as well. Then picture or no picture, she wouldn’t have any leverage at all. Oh, she could take it to the police, but the Corettis had been avoiding the authorities for decades; they wouldn’t have trouble hiding so well they might never be found again.
She couldn’t risk it. She had to stay close to him until she had what she came for.
She took a breath. “Like I said, I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have the Contessa back.”
“Then,” he said, waving one arm out to indicate that she should walk ahead of him, “we should go and get your things from your hotel. We’ll have to begin practicing to adore each other.” His gaze swept her up and down. “This may take some real acting skills.”
“Thanks so much.”
He smiled and the curve of his lips tugged at something inside her. Oh, this really wasn’t a good idea. She was already attracted to the man—who wouldn’t be? Spending more time with him wasn’t going to make that attraction any easier to ignore. Look what Jean Luc had romanced her into—and Gianni Coretti was way more dangerous.
Gianni was gorgeous, probably very charming when he put some effort into it. In any other circumstance, she might really enjoy the kind of charade he was talking about. Too bad they were on opposite sides of this situation, she told herself with a small twinge of regret.
She started back down the hall to the living room, but stopped when he caught her arm. That buzz of sensation she’d felt before was back and hotter than ever, the moment he touched her. Marie glanced down at his hand and he immediately let go of her.
“Last chance to change your mind,” he said, looking down at her. “Once this begins, we see it through. I won’t have my family worried that you’re about to throw my father into prison.”
His eyes were dark and nearly fathomless, she thought idly, unable to look away from that piercing gaze. A quick jolt of guilt shot through her and then dissipated a moment later. She didn’t really want to see Nick Coretti go to prison, either. Yes, he was a thief, but he had been nice to her. She actually winced as that thought danced through her mind. No wonder the board of the Wainwright had fired her.
She was sympathetic to an older thief, had allowed a younger one to romance her and now was desperately attracted to still another.
Maybe, she told herself, this is what having a breakdown felt like.
“I’m not backing out,” she told