The American Contessa

by Noni Calbane

  The American Contessa

  Noni Calbane

  Clinton Walker was a thief. Nothing as blasé or common as cash. Jewels were his target.

  When he asks his Granddaughter Gaby to complete a job he didn’t finish, she finds herself on her way to Italy and encountering the arrogant and volatile Count Luca Manetti. Her dislike for him is intense and immediate –which is a good thing considering she plans to steal the family jewels. But her distaste for the sexy and unlikable Count is nothing compared to her attraction.

  Luca Manetti has many problems. The biggest being the American woman who makes his blood heat and his senses reel. The fact that she wants nothing to do with him has him puzzled and all the more entranced. Is Gaby the one woman who can pierce the hard shell around his heart and make him change his mind about women?

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Copyright © 2013 by Noni Calbane

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Published, 2013

  PROLOGUE

  1952

  He’d gotten away. This time at least. In the distance he could hear the blare of sirens, heralding the arrival of the Polizia. Within minutes the area would be crawling with Police, Interpol and every law enforcement agency falling under the surrounding jurisdiction. He had to get out of the country now, if not sooner.

  They’d be looking for him. And rightly so. When jewels went missing he was number one on everyone’s list. An honour he would rather do without. But they’d never caught him, or managed to pin anything on him. Whether due to luck, chance, or his natural ability to get himself out of sticky situations.

  His friends in the upper class laughed at the thought of him being suspected for the rash of crimes being committed. Although he’d recently noticed the increased security installed and watchful eyes of the very people he called “friends” when he came to call.

  Maybe his luck was running out in Italy for the time being. Yes, a change of scenery and friends was in order. Maybe France or Spain should be his next stop. After all, the world was his oyster.

  This time he’d come away empty handed. He’d come back for the jewels when the heat was off. But for now, they were safely stashed in a place that he was sure no-one would look, awaiting his return.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Today

  Gaby used a tissue to wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead, removing not only her perspiration but a good deal of her makeup as well. Cranking the air-conditioning of her rental car up another notch, she turned all the vents towards her in an attempt to cool down her body and her burgeoning bad mood.

  “How can anyone stay cool and fresh when it’s over one hundred, even in air-conditioning,” she said to her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Palm Springs was always hot, but it was completely unbearable in July.

  After arriving from Boston the previous evening, she’d gone directly to the hotel and spent the evening in air-conditioned bliss. Palm Springs was one her favourite towns, despite its heat. A desert oasis that harked back to the days of Marilyn, Dean, Frank and the rest of their Ratpack buddies. The low-slung houses of the fifties and all things mid-century modern reigned supreme throughout the city, and she loved the retro vibe.

  Appropriately enough, last night she’d relaxed in her room watching Monroe in the Seven Year Itch until sleep claimed her. Gaby giggled at the comment Marilyn had made about keeping her undies in the icebox to keep herself cool during a blistering New York summer. Frozen underwear sounded like just the ticket right about now. “Maybe I should try that” she said to herself, but then shook her head.

  No. Having the maid find your panties in the freezer while checking the minibar was not a good idea.

  Stopping at a red light, she pulled her long, wavy chestnut hair into a pony tail with an elastic band from the middle console and checked the GPS. She was almost there. Another two blocks, then take a left.

  Hearing from her Grandfather a week ago had been a shock to put it mildly. He never called asking to see her or her two sisters, Frances and Grace. The onus had always been put on them to keep in contact. They’d always known he’d been the black sheep of the family. The relative no-one ever talked about; or if they did, in hushed tones. No-one knew his whereabouts and if they did, they weren’t talking. There had been a definite “don’t ask, don’t tell” rule in place. A rule she and her sisters respected until their parents were killed ten years ago in an automobile accident.

  After that life-changing event, a sense of family became all the more important, and discovering the truth about him, good or bad, was an all-consuming mission for Gaby and her sisters. They’d heard he’d been in prison, but as for the nature of his crimes, their remaining relatives had kept their mouths firmly zipped.

  The advances in internet technology changed everything, and she and her sisters found all they had wanted to know readily at their fingertips. It was surprisingly easy to discover his history and with a little more digging, his whereabouts. The truth of her Grandfather’s life was the stuff of movies. It was glamorous, dangerous, but ultimately grim with reality.

  In a nutshell, he was a thief. She had to admit it though, he was considered to be one of the great ones. One that Interpol had chased for years without luck. His penchant was for art and jewels, nothing so blasé or common as cash.

  After leaving the army at the end of World War II he’d remained in Europe, and armed with a great deal of charm and a flair for deception had managed to enter a certain circle of high society. Mixing with the upper class of Europe, his taste for expensive homes, cars and women, far outdid his army pension. And with no desire to work and/or give up his lifestyle, he began using his connections to gain access to the wealth he sought.

  Of course, it all caught up with him in 1961. His hand was caught in the proverbial cookie-jar one night in the South of France. He was convicted and sentenced to ten to fifteen years and with good behaviour, got out in 1968. By the time he’d been released, his wife and son, Gaby’s father, were lost to him.

  Gaby asked him once why it was he’d been caught that time, when he’d managed to elude the authorities for so long. Shrugging, he’d said something about losing his nerve, taking careless risks and being incredibly greedy. He then finally admitted that his luck had just plum run out.

  Finding him eight years ago had been a blessing and a curse as far as Gaby was concerned. All the fantasies and stories she’d made up in her teenage mind regarding his exciting and dashing life were shattered and she discovered him to be a frail, lonely old man living in an apartment in Palm Springs.

  Now he was a frail, lonely and sick old man.

  All the wealth he had nefariously accumulated was gone through good living and confiscation. And, unable to take care of himself, Gaby and her sisters had to make the painful decision to put him in a senior’s care facility. He’d fought tooth and nail against it, as his mind was as quick as a fox. But in the end, even he had to admit that everyday life was getting
harder and harder to handle on his own. The financial burden had been a huge one, and although she and her sisters had all chipped in; her share of the ongoing costs were astronomical for someone who taught second grade in a public school.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the facility, Gaby looked around the grounds. The sprinklers fanned over the immaculate garden and she had the childish urge to run through them and cool down. All in all, the Sunset Care Facility was well kept and neat, and she was glad that she could at least provide her Grandfather with pleasant surroundings to end his days.

  At that thought, Gaby sighed. She really did love him. She didn’t know him, but she loved him, unconditionally. He was the last direct link to her parents and although she only came to visit him a few times a year, she felt totally at ease with him in a way that was kind of unnerving, but not a complete surprise.

  She’d always suspected that a sense of adventure and danger lurked somewhere beneath her calm schoolteacher exterior. If she’d hazard a guess, she was positive it came from his genes and not her parents, who were as straight as an arrow and utterly happy in their humdrum middleclass life. Not that she wished to follow in his footsteps, but a little glamour and danger sounded like just the remedy for what ailed her.

  You’re just in a rut, she’d lectured herself time and time again, nothing to worry about. Rut? Hell, it was more like an abyss!

  Quickly getting out of her car, Gaby entered through the revolving door, grateful to be back in air-conditioning once again.

  *****

  “Gabriella”

  He held out his withered hand to her, and she clasped it lovingly. “Hi Gran-pop, how are you?”

  “As good as I can be at my age,” he replied. His green eyes twinkled at her. “But all the better for seeing you. I’m the envy of all my geriatric friends having such a beautiful girl come see me.”

  Gaby smiled at him. Clinton Walker, although almost ninety, still possessed the charm of a man a third his age. His body may be fading fast but his mind was as young and vibrant as she was.

  “Enough flattery old man, you’re lucky school’s out so I could come see you. It’ll be hard to get away when September comes.” Her smile fell with the sudden realisation that time was passing by far too quickly.

  His eyes turned serious and she knew he was thinking the same thing. The years they’d lost could never be recaptured and the remaining time he had left on this earth was almost depleted. “Have you given any more thought to moving to Boston? They have places there that are just as well-run and comfortable as this.”

  “And give up all this sunshine?” he smirked.

  “The sun shines in Boston too,” she argued.

  “No,” he replied firmly, “This is my home now. I never had roots until I came to this town –and now they run deep. This place may not be the Plaza or the Ritz, but then I’m hardly the man I used to be.”

  Although Gaby could acknowledge his wish to remain in a familiar setting, it didn’t make it any easier to accept. “But you’re so far away –and when school starts it’s so difficult to come see you. I want to be here for you. And so do Frances and Grace, but …,” Her voice trailed off in sadness. The thought that he would end his days without them close by was unbearable.

  He spoke solemnly, “That’s why I called you to come see me now. I knew that school had finished and you have the time. I need you to do something for me. Before time runs out.”

  Gaby’s eyebrows arched in surprise. In all the time she’d known him, he’d never once asked for anything, and her mind raced as to what it could possibly be.

  Pointing to his bureau drawers across the room he ordered, “Bottom drawer, there’s a lockbox. Get it. The key is in my left, brown leather shoe in the closet.”

  All very cloak and dagger, Gaby thought uneasily as she got the key and the lockbox and returned to his bed. But then, her Grandfather’s life had been quite different to the normal person. She looked warily at the small locked container as though it was Pandora’s Box and opening it would unleash all the evils of the world.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he comforted knowingly, “It’s only my personal papers.”

  Gaby visibly relaxed and opened the box. Sure enough, it only contained envelopes and plethora of photos. She picked up one photo of a handsome young man, whom she thought was her father, with a small child. But it couldn’t be. On the back of the picture it said 1969.

  She looked at him curiously and held the photo out to him. Perusing the photo, his eyes suddenly welled with tears. “Yes. That’s me, with your father. I met his mother before my arrest and we married in Italy in 1959. Did you know that?” he asked sadly.

  “No, I didn’t.” There was so much she didn’t know about him, but she was hesitant to push him for all the facts as it was so obviously painful for him to remember his misdoings, and his personal failings.

  “I left her pregnant with him to go to France for a job.”

  The way he said “job”, Gaby knew which job and exactly what it meant. He’d been caught and imprisoned. The regret and sorrow was etched deep in his face. He’d lost much by choosing the life he’d led.

  “This was the one and only time I saw my son,” he rasped, the tears spilling down his cheek. “When I got out of prison, his mother refused to let him have anything to do with me. You see, when we married, she didn’t know what I did … for a living. I promised after seeing him I would leave his life forever.”

  Gaby stroked his face, trying to comfort him. He was wrong to do what he did, but he was an old man now. Who wouldn’t have some regrets after living almost a century?

  “Gran-pop, you made mistakes. You paid for them. I’m sure you loved my grandmother and my dad very much.”

  “I did. That job was going to be the last one. If only …,” he looked away wistfully thinking about what might have been.

  Blinking the tears away, he looked Gaby in the eye and changed the subject sharply. “This is what I wanted to show you,” he stated, pulling out another photo from the pile.

  He handed her a photo of a beautiful dark haired woman lounging on a settee. From the hairstyle, Gaby guessed mid-1940s, possibly just after the war.

  She smiled at him. “Very pretty. One of your old flames Gran-pop?”

  “Not the woman,” he said rather tersely, “Around her neck!”

  Gaby put her hand on his arm. No need for him to get too excited. After all, it was just an old photo. All of a sudden, his words sank in and she looked again at the photo.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “The necklace?”

  “Beautiful, isn’t it? But it isn’t just any necklace,” he lowered his voice. “The Manetti necklace. See how the stones sparkle, even in a photograph. In reality it’s amazing; a photo could never do it justice.” Her grandfather elevated himself a little in his bed, his eyes glittering like the jewels of which he was speaking. “Seven perfect emeralds, surrounded by diamonds, created in 1756 for Countess Maria Manetti.”

  Gaby looked at him curiously. His trancelike state when describing the necklace was a little scary in its intensity. Biting her lip she asked the question foremost on her mind, “Gran-pop, did you steal this necklace?”

  “Yes… and no,” he offered cryptically.

  “Well, which is it? Yes or no,” Gaby countered.

  Her grandfather perked up some more and he reached for her hand. Holding it tightly, the years seemed to dissipate as he began to tell her what happened.

  “In 1952, I was invited to the Villa Manetti for the party of the season. My … friend, Anna Barisconi was my in.”

  “In?”

  “Yes, my contact, my insider, the one who could get me the invitation. I knew the jewels weren’t well protected. It was a particularly easy job. It should have been so simple. But for some reason, after I got the necklace, I heard the sirens start immediately outside. Someone else knew that I planned to steal them that night. I’m still not sure who that someone was.” He paused a moment, de
ep in thought. “As the sirens grew closer, I knew I couldn’t get away with the necklace, so I used my back-up plan.”

  “Back-up plan?” Gaby leaned closer towards him, barely controlling her excitement at his words. “What was it?”

  “Simple,” he shrugged lightly. “I hid the necklace in a safe place, until I would have a chance to return.”

  “Oh,” Gaby sighed, leaning back. That wasn’t quite the exciting, climactic ending she expected.

  “Gaby,” he said softly, “That’s why I called you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, “I’m not following you.”

  “You studied Italian in college, did you not?” he enquired.

  She frowned at him. “I majored in Romance Languages; Italian, French and Spanish. But I’m still not following you Gran-pop …”

  “I want you to go to Florence and retrieve the necklace.” His eyes held hers grimly –he was deadly serious.

  She pulled her hand from his in fear, “What?”

  “You heard me.” Turning away from her gaze, he sadly looked out the window, his voice shaking. “I know what this place costs, and I know that you and your sisters have sacrificed a lot to look after me. It’s my turn to make sure that you’re okay.” He smiled slightly at her. “I still have a few contacts that aren’t dead that can fence the jewels, so I thought I better do it while I can.”

  “Gran-pop, I… I’m not a jewel thief,” Gaby stuttered. “I wouldn’t know how to be. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life. I get nervous if my library book is overdue.”

  He chuckled at her reaction. “The fact that you didn’t say no straight away, or walk out of here in righteous indignation tells me that I chose you wisely.”

  “Chose me?”

  “Why, yes. Of my three granddaughters, you, Gabriella, are the most like me,” he said proudly. “Besides, you wouldn’t be stealing it, merely retrieving it from its hiding place.”

  Gaby shook her head at him. “That doesn’t make it right.”

  “Do you know what a funeral costs Gabriella?” he stated forlornly. “Is it right that I leave you girls with the burden of my death?”