To Catch a Groom

by Rebecca Winters

  “I’m not sure what it is, Luc. But I know one thing. We have to strike now.”

  “Strike? That sounds cryptic.”

  “We may have our first break in discovering the person, or persons, behind the theft of the family jewelry collection.”

  An expletive came out of Luc. “My parents never stop talking about it.”

  “Nor mine,” Nic murmured. “Just before I left Marbella for the bankers’ conference in Luxembourg, I heard Mama complaining to Papa because the head of security hasn’t come up with a single lead in the case. As far as I’m concerned it’s like we all said. Long ago the family jewels were removed from their settings and are sitting in someone’s strong box.”

  Or around the delectable neck of an American vixen without scruples.

  “It might interest you to know that yesterday morning Signore Galli, the head of security at Genoa airport, detained three American women on entry because they were each wearing the Duchesse pendant.”

  After a collective silence, “There’s only one pendant!” Then they exploded with laughter.

  That had been Max’s first reaction, too. The jewelry collection was one of Italy’s greatest treasures. Whoever stole it from the ducal palace in Colorno was the object of an intensive search.

  For over a year now Italy’s top investigators in conjunction with the CIA, Scotland Yard and Interpol had been working on the case without success.

  “This Signore Galli’s eyesight must be impaired.”

  “I don’t know, Nic. The Duchesse pendant I saw a little while ago looked like the genuine article.”

  Quiet reigned once more.

  “You saw one of the pendants they were wearing?”

  “I did, Luc. Up close and very personal, if you know what I mean.”

  The inference that Max had been with one of the females wearing it didn’t escape his cousins who after another telling silence urged him to explain everything.

  “These women, Greer, Piper and Olivia, are extremely beautiful, twenty-seven-year-old blond triplets.”

  “Triplets?”

  “Si. Not identical up close. Together they make an amazing sight. Their passports say their last name is Duchess. They live in Kingston, New York.

  “I found out they were planning to go sailing from Vernazza later today. According to Fabio’s records, the person who chartered the Piccione called herself the Duchess of Kingston from the House of Parma-Bourbon.”

  His cousins’ sounds of disbelief rattled the phone line.

  “I did a little homework and discovered through an impeccable source there is no such Kingston title in existence today.”

  “Which sister thought up the idea of capitalizing on such a blatant piece of fiction?” Nic demanded.

  “I have no idea,” Max muttered. “Greer claimed her ancestor was the Duchess of Colorno.”

  “Incroyable!” Luc bit out.

  “I agree the whole situation sounds unbelievable. I wouldn’t have taken any stock in Signore Galli’s report if I hadn’t followed the three of them from the Splendido to the San Giorgio church and back. They were each wearing a matching pendant. It’s anyone’s guess why, especially in light of the theft.”

  “Why would they enter the scene of the crime wearing copies of the genuine article unless they wanted to be caught for some reason?”

  “I don’t know, Nic. Perhaps it’s an elaborate joke perpetrated by the thieves to rub it in the family’s face that we’ll never find out who was responsible.”

  “Or, it’s possible one of the pendants they’re wearing is the genuine article and they’re bargaining for bigger stakes,” Luc muttered.

  “My sentiments exactly. To make this even more interesting Greer claimed they were in Italy visiting their…relatives.”

  “Relatives—” Nic blurted. “We’re the relatives.”

  “Exactly. Under the circumstances I thought you and Luc would like to help me facilitate a meeting between long lost cousins.”

  “Go on,” Nic urged. At this point Max had garnered his cousins’ undivided attention.

  “We need to find out who they really are, why they’re here. Are they acting alone? If not, who sent them? What is their agenda? The only way to get that kind of information is to use the old-fashioned method of extracting information, if you know what I mean,” he drawled. “I trust you two haven’t lost your touch.”

  “I like the idea of six ‘kissing cousins’ very much,” Luc said, easily reading Max’s mind. “There’s no place cozier than the Piccione for what you’re suggesting.”

  “Agreed. While we’re crewing, we’ll do everything we can to get their undivided attention. Here’s my plan. Nic? When Fabio first brings them aboard, I want you to keep them entertained while I go through their luggage and steal the pendants.

  “We’ll sail for Lerici. After dinner I’ll take them on a tour of the castle. That will give you and Luc time to fly to Parma by helicopter, show the pendants to Signore Rossi for examination, and be back on board the Piccione before my return with our guests.

  “Depending on what we learn about the pendants, we’ll know if we need more time to get information out of these women, or call in the police immediately and have them arrested.”

  Low laughter rumbled out of Nic. It was the first genuine emotion Max had heard from his cousin since the funeral, a sure indication he wasn’t completely dead of feeling after all.

  For that matter, Luc actually sounded excited about something which was a huge change from his brooding apathy of late. Both cousins’ reactions constituted a plus Max hadn’t counted on.

  “I’ll be honest and admit I’m looking forward to spending quality time getting as close as possible to Greer Duchess.” In fact Max was living in anticipation. After tasting the satiny skin of her neck and throat, not once but twice, he’d developed an instantaneous addiction for her he needed to satisfy before the day was out.

  “I’ll meet you at the boat at seven,” Luc declared.

  “What about you, Nic?” After losing his fiancée, Nic hadn’t looked at another woman.

  “I’ll be there.”

  Good. Better than good. Nic had been in hibernation long enough. “I’ve a feeling this is going to be like old times. Ciao.”

  The brochure described Vernazza as a jewel. But the picture of it hadn’t in any way prepared Greer to appreciate its spectacular beauty. The only natural port village of five towns making up Cinque Terre had a cut and polish like no stone she’d ever seen.

  As she took in the brilliant facets of tower-shape houses clustered in different levels against the steep cliffs, the stark blue clarity of sea and sky made her eyes water.

  She gasped at the range of color pitting forest and emerald-green mountains against the yellow, pink and rose of the more elaborate palaces and castles decorated by portals and porticos.

  The delighted sighs coming from her sisters bespoke their mutual entrancement of this Mediterranean masterpiece the Genoese had protected against barbarians and Saracens centuries earlier.

  Greer longed to hike the narrow paths climbing dizzily from the small square up the rocky face. But she would have to explore the town and hidden Vernazzola stream at the end of their trip because they were already late to board the sailboat.

  Due to the thousands of tourists flocking to the Riviera for the Grand Prix, there was a lineup at the train station for tickets. As a result, Greer and her sisters didn’t reach the stone jetty of Vernazza’s small harbor until three in the afternoon, three hours past the appointed time.

  A dozen or more boats in various colors were moored on the sheltered side of the dancing blue water. But there was only one catamaran. It stood out from the others like white chalk on a new blackboard.

  She couldn’t wait until they were at sea.

  Though the haunting stranger from last night hadn’t been waiting outside her hotel room door this morning with her shoes, or accosted her in the lobby when they’d checked out of the Splen
dido, or shown up at the dock, she still didn’t feel safe.

  Something about him had threatened her peace of mind in more ways than she could explain, even to her sisters. Given the slightest opportunity, she feared he might just devour her whole. Mind, body, soul, psyche—all of her…gone.

  It was an absurd notion of course. He couldn’t really do that, yet until the boat left the harbor, she wouldn’t be able to breathe normally.

  “Buon giorno, signorine,” a male voice sounded behind them. Greer jumped in reaction, fearing the worst. “I’m Fabio Moretti, the owner of the Piccione. Welcome to Vernazza.”

  She heard her sisters introduce themselves. Piper gave her a nudge. With her breath still trapped in her lungs, Greer turned around.

  Relief swamped her to discover a smiling, dark blond Italian of medium height wearing blue trousers and a darker blue sport shirt. His hazel eyes gave them an admiring glance before he shook hands with them.

  “Which one of you is the Duchess of Kingston?”

  “We all are,” Olivia declared. Greer moaned inwardly.

  He tugged on his earlobe. “Ah, because you are—how do you say it? Treeplets. Capisce!” His head reared back in understanding.

  Piper nodded. “But as we indicated in our e-mail, we’d like that kept confidential.”

  “Of course. Just so you know, I arranged for a special chef for your trip. He has cooked for several royals of the House of Parma-Bourbon. Right now he’s busy in the galley preparing dinner. You are in for a very special treat while you sail on the Piccione.”

  Greer eyed her sisters in consternation before she looked back at him. “You didn’t need to go to all that trouble, signore.”

  “It was my pleasure. Though the people of Vernazza are Ligurians, the Duchy of Parma holds a special place in our hearts, mine in particular. If you’ll follow me below, I’ll introduce you to the captain who’s anxious to get underway.

  “Don’t worry about your bags. The first mate will bring them to your staterooms. He’ll be your steward and go through the boat safety drill with you once you’ve cast off. Shall we board?”

  They stepped off the dock onto the boat and started up the side stairs after him. At this point Greer was feeling horribly guilty over the whole Duchess deception and knew her sisters were, too.

  Under other circumstances she would have loved to chat with Signore Moretti, a local who might be able to shed light on the story about the Duchess and her progeny. But at this juncture Greer realized it wouldn’t be prudent for several reasons.

  His boat more than lived up to her expectations, diverting her attention for the moment. Not only did it feel like an elegant luxury apartment at sea, but it came loaded with a wind glider, snorkeling gear, fishing gear, water skis, knee boards, sun mattresses… Anything and everything to ensure a dream vacation.

  Then Greer caught sight of a striking, thirtyish looking male in sunglasses coming out the crew’s quarters at the head.

  Because of his well-defined physique visible beneath the indigo T-shirt and white cargo pants he was wearing, he bore a superficial resemblance to the tall stranger from the Splendido.

  Her heart rose in her throat. But when he joined them in the main saloon where there was more light, she realized her mistake.

  This man’s hair was straighter in texture and had brown highlights among the black. His rugged features put her in mind of the group of proud, handsome Castilians who’d flirted with them on the train as it had passed through one tunnel after another.

  The owner of the boat said something to him in Italian. When he removed his glasses, she found herself looking into black fringed eyes the color of rich brown loam.

  “Buenas tardes, señoritas. My name is Nicolas, but please call me Nic. We are always informal on the Piccione.”

  A gorgeous Spaniard who knew it, and spoke Italian and English, too. Impressive. Greer had been right about his origins.

  Everyone said hello.

  “It is indeed a pleasure to sail a boat with three such breathtaking sisters who look alike, yet are so different.” His gaze traveled over each of them, but seemed to rest on Piper the longest. “Forgive me for staring, señorita…?”

  “Piper.”

  “Piperrre…” He seemed to relish rolling her name across his tongue. “Your eyes are the same rare hue as the aquamarine waters along the Riviera di Ponente. Muy muy bella.”

  Piper did have remarkable eyes. The trail of men who’d looked into them and been smitten was miles long. Obviously she didn’t have to wear the Duchesse pendant to attract this man’s attention.

  Not for the first time did Greer regret last night’s reckless, impulsive, unquestionably dangerous escapade.

  “Thank you.”

  “We’re sorry we’re late,” Olivia inserted.

  “No problem, señorita…?”

  “My name’s Olivia.”

  He flashed her a seductive smile. It seemed not only Italian men, but all European men in general, had a way of invading a woman’s space like nobody else, giving her no breathing room whatsoever.

  To Greer’s chagrin she discovered their captain, like the dark-haired stranger from last night, had the kind of overwhelming good looks you didn’t run into every day, or every year. Or possibly never.

  “As I was saying, señoritas, do not be concerned about the time. This is the busiest season of the year and delays on land are routine. That is the beauty of traveling by water. When there’s no wind to fill the sails, we have engine power to take us where we want to go. I know places where we can be virtually alone.”

  Greer tensed at the unmistakable innuendo. “All we require is that you follow the itinerary we worked out with Signore Moretti.”

  She felt his slight hesitation before he said, “Naturally, señorita.” The assurance rolled off his liquid tongue, almost as if he’d sensed her misgivings and could read her mind. Almost as if he was mocking her. “But we will make one slight exception.”

  Greer knew it!

  “Before we dock at Monterosso tonight, I thought you might enjoy a visit to the port town of Lerici. There’s a castle you should see.”

  When Greer didn’t say anything, Piper filled in the uncomfortable silence. “That sounds exciting.”

  Normally it would have sounded exciting to her, too, but for some reason she couldn’t shake, Greer wasn’t sure she trusted the captain completely.

  “I don’t remember hearing your name, señorita.”

  Really. It was on the tip of her tongue to play the same game the stranger had played with her last night and ask the captain to guess, but she restrained herself. “It’s Greer.”

  She saw intelligence reflected in those dark brown eyes studying her with such unusual intensity it made her suspicious. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the captain still reminded her a little of the stranger from last night.

  “Greer is an obscure yet charming diminutive of Gregorio, the first Greek pope, yet you all have the gilt-blond hair of the Saxons,” he observed. “Why were you not given commensurate names?”

  Commensurate? Who was this man?

  “If our mother were alive, you could ask her.” Ignoring her sisters’ frowns she said, “If you’ll excuse us, we’d like to freshen up.”

  Signore Moretti who’d been oddly silent throughout their exchange said, “There are three staterooms ready for you with your own queen-size beds and private bathrooms. Before I leave you in Nic’s capable hands, allow me to show you.”

  Without casting another glance at the captain, Greer took the lead behind the owner of the Piccione. Her sisters might be blinded by the captain’s charm, but Greer wasn’t!

  For a seaman, he possessed an amazing grasp of etymology. Too amazing in her opinion. She felt like they’d jumped out of one proverbial frying pan into a fire where things were threatening to get a lot hotter.

  As if to add to her concerns, their plan never to be separated was foiled when she realized the light, airy staterooms w
ere located in three different corners of the catamaran.

  Each one contained fabulous oversize baskets of flowers, fruit and chocolates, plus a well stocked minifridge with every kind of drink from mineral water to soda and wine.

  Everything was lovely. She had no complaints.

  But by the time Signore Moretti had wished them a happy trip and disappeared, she had the premonition something was wrong. When she detected vibrations running through her feet, she jumped. They were moving!

  It was too late to get off.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  PIPER SIGHED. “I think Vernazza is more beautiful than Portofino, if that’s possible.”

  Greer’s sisters had scrambled on top of the bed and were looking out the porthole at the receding harbor.

  “Admit the captain’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  Greer knew of one exception to Olivia’s observation, but she wisely chose to remain quiet on that subject. “Don’t get too excited about him,” she cautioned.

  They both swung around, darting her a vexed glance. “What’s wrong with you?” Piper chided.

  Olivia folded her arms. “You were rude to him a few minutes ago, you know.”

  “That’s because something about him doesn’t ring true.”

  “For heaven sake’s, Greer. Just because he’s attractive doesn’t make him a predator.”

  “I’m not talking about his looks, though they are exceptional. It’s his whole demeanor. Your eyes, Señorita Piperrre—” She did a faithful representation of the captain. “They are like aquamarine waters. Your name, Señorita Greer, is obscure yet charming— My gosh— The man’s a menace!”

  Piper grinned. “You mean he reminds you of the way the stranger talked to you last night. I thought we decided that European males come on to women much more directly, so we just have to learn to deal with it.”

  “Piper’s right,” Olivia argued. “The captain may be Spanish, but they all have Mediterranean blood flowing through their veins. It makes them different from the men we’re used to dating.”

  “I don’t know, guys. I’ve a feeling our captain plays by a set of rules we’ve never heard of.”