Sighing, Marie thought that it was an excellent description of Jean Luc. Of course, he was also handsome, charming and slick enough to sneak past her own internal radar. Humiliating to admit, even to herself, that she had been conned just as any unsuspecting civilian might have been. Knowing that Gianni knew she’d been taken in by a pretty face only added to her private humiliation.
Rico was pacing. “If he’s not good enough, why would he risk coming here when he would know that security would be tight enough we would never allow him onto the island?”
Gianni’s gaze followed his brother-in-law. “First, he won’t use his own name to register—and, he probably won’t book a room here at your place, but instead go for the other hotel on the island. Smaller, less security-conscious.”
Rico nodded grimly.
Marie was watching Gianni. She could see why Interpol had taken him on in exchange for immunity. He was smart and the knowledge of a master thief would be invaluable.
Rico looked worried. “It still doesn’t make sense. If he’s not good enough—”
“His arrogance will make this jewelry show irresistible to him.” Gianni sat forward on the couch, still holding Marie’s hand in his. His thumb caressed her palm and she had to fight to concentrate as he continued speaking. “He will tell himself that if he can only manage a theft here, then his reputation will be made.”
“Give me a description of him to hand out to my security team,” Rico ordered, obviously convinced.
Teresa spoke up then. “I can describe him for you. We’ve all known Jean Luc for years.”
“Fine then.” Gianni stood up and drew Marie to her feet as well. “Now, we’re going to our suite to relax and wash up. We’ll see you at dinner, all right?”
“Fine, fine,” Teresa said, laughing as she waved her free hand at them. “You go ahead. I’m sure your luggage is already in your suite. Rico gave you the same one you had on your last visit, you remember?”
“I do.” Still holding Marie’s hand, Gianni stepped around the coffee table, bent down and kissed his sister. “Don’t worry about Jean Luc ruining anything. Between your husband, his security team and me, he won’t get away with anything.”
“I know,” she said, smiling.
“All right then.” Gianni straightened. “See you later.”
It wasn’t until they’d left the suite that Gianni looked at Marie and said, “That went well.”
Eight
They checked in to their suite, unpacked and within fifteen minutes or so, Gianni had Marie out of the hotel room and away from the gigantic bed before he could give in to temptation. The coming week was going to be a hard one, he knew. But no point in torturing himself before he absolutely had to.
“I can’t believe this place,” Marie said as he steered her around the hotel grounds.
Gianni knew what she was talking about. He’d felt the same way the first time he’d been here about a year before.
Rico had built what was, essentially, a Disneyland for adults. There were infinity pools, private spas and spectacular ocean views from every room. It was a relatively small hotel, to keep it exclusive. There were only a hundred and fifty rooms, not counting the private bungalows tucked away in groves of trees scattered around the grounds.
Rooms were decadent, the service was impeccable and for those who could afford a stay here, King’s Castle on Tesoro provided a fantasy come to life.
On Tesoro, the always present trade winds kept insects at a minimum and carried the scent of tropical flowers, flavoring each breath drawn. The ocean was only steps away and farther inland there were forests filled with banyan trees that looked as though they’d been plucked from fairy stories and dropped onto the island for atmosphere.
“It’s impressive,” Gianni agreed.
Marie stopped walking and looked up at him. Sunlight poured down on her, highlighting the dark fire of her hair until it seemed to burn like a halo around her head. Her green eyes were suddenly serious as she asked, “Did you mean what you said to Rico and Teresa? About Jean Luc, I mean. Do you really think he’ll show up here?”
Frowning slightly, his gaze shifted from hers to encompass the pool area. There were lovely women stretched out on rainbow-colored chaises, a couple of people doing laps in the water and servers moving along the tiled walkways, delivering frothy drinks.
This was exactly the kind of atmosphere a man like Jean Luc preferred. He’d only gotten into the jewel-thief world because of his hunger for the good things in life. The Coretti family treated their trade like the job it was. They gave it focus, practice, respect. Jean Luc, though, treated it as a game—one he was determined to win. A good thing in some, but in Jean Luc, it made him take what Gianni would see as unnecessary risks. Attempting jobs that he wasn’t skilled enough to complete because his own ego demanded it.
“Yes,” he said softly, “I do.”
“If he comes here, he won’t have the Contessa with him.”
He looked back at her. “No. He’ll leave that at home. No need to carry old trophies when you’re looking to steal new ones.”
“Right.” She nodded and he could see from the gleam in her eyes that her thoughts were racing. “So we’ll still have to go to Monaco after the necklace.”
“After the conference, yes.”
Still nodding, Marie said, “But if we catch him here, that would make things easier all the way around, right?”
“We?” One eyebrow lifted.
She tipped her chin up and met his gaze squarely. “I used to be a cop, remember? And I’m also a security expert. I can help.”
“I used to be a thief,” he reminded her. “And I think that experience will come in handy this week. Rico’s security staff is the best in the world.”
“Doesn’t mean another set of eyes wouldn’t help,” she argued. “So, instead of showing me the pools, how about showing me where the jewelry exhibition’s going to be?”
He already knew the look she had on her face right now. That fierce blend of determination and stubbornness. And he knew, too, that if he didn’t show her the exhibit hall, then she’d simply find it on her own. Better to have him with her.
Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he punched in Rico’s number. “I’ll find out where it’s being held.”
“Good.” Her features brightened and a wide, beautiful smile curved her mouth.
Gianni’s insides fisted and his groin tightened painfully. Hunger simmered in his blood and it was a feeling he was becoming all too accustomed to. It wasn’t just her beauty that called to him, though—it was so much more. Her self-confidence, her resolve and her sense of purpose all made her almost impossible to resist. Almost, because he was doing his damnedest to do just that and he had the distinct impression he was losing the battle.
“Rico,” he said when the other man answered. Keeping his gaze locked on Marie, he said, “We’d like to check out the exhibition hall.”
“You have some ideas on how to beef up security?”
Gianni laughed a little. “I won’t know that until I look around, will I?”
“I’ll let Franklin Hicks know you’re coming over.” Rico took a breath and said, “Franklin’s my head of security. Easy to spot. Thirty-five, he stands six foot five and he’s got a shaved head and sharp blue eyes.”
“Sounds intimidating enough.”
“Oh, he is,” Rico said with a snort. “Not much gets past him. But I’m sure he’ll welcome the input of a man like you.”
“Meaning thief,” he murmured.
“Meaning one of the best thieves,” Rico corrected.
“What’s he saying?” Marie demanded.
He held up one hand and listened to Rico as he said, “Teresa gave me a description of this Jean Luc and we’re circulating it among the men and post
ing it in the main security office.”
“That’s good,” Gianni told him. “Can you get that description over to the other hotel on the island as well?
“Already done,” Rico said.
“Description?” Marie asked. “You mean of Jean Luc?” Shaking her head she muttered, “Haven’t you guys ever heard of disguises?”
Gianni snorted, then said, “Yes, Marie is just reminding us that Jean Luc could show up in disguise.”
“Perfect,” Rico said. “Well, we’ll do what we can to spot him anyway.”
“We all will.”
“Right. Okay then.” Rico took a breath and said, “I’ll let Franklin know you’re coming over.”
“Fine. Thanks. We’ll see you and Teresa later.”
When he hung up, he shrugged and said, “It seems they’ve cleared out the main dining room to use for the show. We can go over now to check it out. Rico’s calling his man to tell them we’re coming.”
Her smile widened. “That’s great. Let’s go.”
Gianni took her hand and headed for the front of the hotel. What other woman in the world would choose to walk a security perimeter around a dining room instead of taking a tour of a luxury resort? One, he told himself, that was beginning to be way too important to him.
* * *
The dining room had been transformed.
Gianni remembered it as an elegant space with soft lighting, windows affording a magnificent view of the ocean and servers who were as inconspicuous as they were efficient. There were usually dozens of small, round tables, each displaying a small vase of tropical flowers dotting the space.
Today, though, the dining room boasted several long, antique tables, covered in red velvet that lent the atmosphere of old-world opulence. The lighting was soft, making the golden bamboo floors seem to glow. There were chairs set up behind privacy screens, where designers could take patrons who wanted a little one-on-one time with the gems.
At the head of the room, there was a conversation area set up with bloodred sofas and chairs clustered around glass and bamboo tables, where designers and clients could talk comfortably. The beauty the hotel was known for was on display, from the gleaming polish on the floor to the brass wall sconces and the wide, uninterrupted view of the ocean through the glass wall.
“Are the glass walls and windows wired, do you think?”
He glanced at Marie. “That’s a good question. I don’t know for sure, but with Rico, I’m guessing the answer is yes. He leaves very little to chance.”
And Gianni could see that security was definitely heightened as there were tiny, discreet cameras everywhere. It only took him a moment to count at least twelve, posted about the room, each providing different angles. Marie was as aware as he.
“I count twelve eyes out in the open,” she said, her gaze narrowed as she took another longer, slower look.
“Agreed.” Gianni nodded toward the far corner. “And no doubt there are many more that are less obvious. For instance, I think I see a hidden camera in that urn of hibiscus blooms.”
“Good one.” She smiled and said, “And the one peeking out from behind the framed painting on the south wall.”
Enjoying himself, he grinned down at her. He’d never met a woman like her. “Can you see a spot they’ve missed?”
“Hard to tell unless you can be in the security office and see the camera feeds,” she mused thoughtfully. Turning in a slow circle, she scanned the room. “It’s always difficult to line up cameras so that the angles they cover overlap without leaving blind spots. But I’m guessing they haven’t missed much.”
“Probably not,” Gianni agreed. “But there are always holes. No security is perfect. As you said, camera angles can only spread so far and a good thief doesn’t need much of an opening.”
“True.” She looked up at him. “You were a good thief, right?”
He sent her a quick smile. “Master jewel thief.”
“Right.” Her own smile was just a flash. “So, Master Jewel Thief, if you were going to hit this place, how would you do it?”
“Ahh.” He sighed to himself at the thought. It wouldn’t be the first time he would use his imagination to commit a heist. He liked to think of it as a mental exercise. Keeping his skill set sharp even though he wasn’t using those skills anymore. He had to stay on top of intercepting would-be thieves if he wanted to remain useful to Interpol—and besides, he admitted silently, it was fun. Yes, he was on the straight-and-narrow path now, but he could dream.
And when he dreamed it was of things like this. A scenario where the owner had taken all precautions. Where the reward for pulling off the job would be immeasurable. And where it would take all of his skill to complete the task and not get caught.
A familiar buzz of adrenaline pumped through his system as he turned his imagination loose. He looked at the glass wall and the tables closest to it. At the windows on either end of the long dining hall and at the ceiling fifteen feet overhead. There was always a way. Air-conditioning ducts, he thought as his gaze slid over them, though crawling through those enclosed spaces was a hideous job. Enclosed spaces felt too much like prison for Gianni. Or he could come in through the skylight that right now showcased a brilliant blue sky.
“So many possibilities,” he murmured.
“You miss it.”
He looked at her, surprised that she’d caught him. Or maybe not. Marie O’Hara seemed to pick up on things that most others didn’t—or wouldn’t. Letting go of the imaginary plan for robbing Rico’s hotel, he focused instead on how he felt about giving up the life he’d always known.
“I suppose I do,” he mused. “The thrill of outwitting security systems. The challenge of working out just the right plan of attack. Slipping into a home or business and getting out again without being noticed. Walking along a rooftop when the night is so black you can’t see your own hand in front of your face and you have to trust your instincts to keep from killing yourself.” He smiled fondly. “It’s a world not many people will ever know.”
“You make it sound as though it was just about the planning and the job itself,” she said softly and he watched as she pushed a long strand of dark red hair behind her ear. “So it wasn’t the stealing that was the draw for you? I mean, the things you stole.”
His lips quirked as that strand of hair slipped free again and he reached out to tuck it behind her ear for her, letting his fingertips slide across her skin in a brief caress. That slight touch burned his skin as if he’d touched a live wire—and maybe he had. “I would be lying if I said that and I think you know it.”
She nodded, and kept quiet, waiting for him to continue.
He’d never tried to explain what he did before. Never tried to make sense of it all to a civilian. But then, Marie wasn’t entirely a civilian, either, was she? She knew as much about crime as he did—only from a different perspective. And he suddenly found that he wanted her to understand it from his point of view.
“A thief doesn’t break into guarded places simply for the pleasure of being able to do it. There must be a reward at the end of the job, of course.” He picked up her left hand, and rubbed his thumb over the ring she wore. One of his trophies from a successful job. “I’m not really sure how to explain to you what it’s like, Marie. No one can really know it unless they’ve lived it.”
“Try,” she whispered, closing her fingers around his.
Staring into her beautiful summer green eyes, he said softly, “This ring, for example. Armed only with a penlight, I opened the safe—”
“You’re a safecracker, too?” she asked, a tiny hint of a smile curving her mouth.
“All Corettis are taught the tricks of our trade from an early age,” he told her. “Lock-picking, safecracking, picking pockets—”
“Really?”
“Have
to have light and clever fingers if you want to live life as a thief and not a prisoner.” He shrugged off his observation and went back into his story. “With everyone downstairs at the party, the second floor of the home was empty and the study where the safe was located was breathlessly still. Black as pitch in there but for slivers of moonlight peeking in and out of the clouds. I was hurrying because it’s always best not to waste time.”
“I can imagine,” she said wryly.
He grinned. “Can’t go too fast or you get sloppy. Can’t go too slow or you get caught. It’s a fine line. Anyway, I opened the safe, reached inside and pulled out a black velvet bag. I knew what I would find inside it, Paulo and I had scoped the place out for months. We knew where the jewels were kept, which jewels were in which safe....”
“There was more than one?”
“Always. But even knowing what I would find, I had to look.” Shrugging, he added, “Paulo and I had put a lot of effort into that job, I wanted to see the treasure at the end of the rainbow. I poured the contents into my palm and a moonbeam hit the diamonds and brought them to life.”
She was quiet now, watching him, their gazes locked as he reminisced and shared a piece of himself that he’d shared with no one else.
“There was a choker necklace with seventy-seven diamonds set in platinum and this ring,” he said, rubbing her finger again gently. “Locked away in the darkness, as if they had been sentenced to oblivion. When they slid from the bag and the moonlight shone on them it was as if they sighed and thanked me for rescuing them. Diamonds are meant to shine, to be in the light, to be worn and admired and envied.” His smile deepened as he said, “When I watched the moonlight on those stones, it was like magic. Like seeing something cold and forgotten and...dead, burst into life again.”
She glanced down to where his thumb still moved across the surface of the ring she wore. “And so you kept the ring to remind you of that moment.”
“I did, yes,” he said, then added with a grin, “and to give to my lovely fiancée, of course.”
Her lips moved as if she were trying to keep from smiling and he thought that perhaps her strict black-and-white outlook was beginning to gray just a little. Why did he find that so damn sexy?
The Fiancée Caper Page 10
