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“No big deal.”
It was a huge deal, but she didn’t want to get into any of that right now. “If you’ll just give me my purse, I’ll be going.”
Even standing this close to the man, she couldn’t make out his eyes through the large, dark sunglasses. His brows rose in surprise, but he didn’t make any motion to give it back.
“Is there a problem?”
“I can’t hand it over.” The man’s voice was deep and smooth like a fine gourmet coffee.
He couldn’t be serious. She pressed her hands to her hips. “I don’t think you understand. That’s my purse. He,” she gestured to the thief, who was struggling with the police officer, “stole it from me.”
“And it’s evidence. You’ll have to take it up with the police.”
Really? He was going to be a stickler for the law. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I have a meeting—”
“I have to give this to the police. I’m sorry.” There was a finality to his tone.
What was it with this day? First, there was the scene with her father. Then she missed her flight. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d nearly lost her mother’s journal. And now, this man refused to return her belongings.
Maybe she just needed to take a different approach. “If it’s a reward you want, I’ll need my purse back in order to do that.”
The man frowned. “I don’t need your money.”
This couldn’t be happening. There had to be something she could say to change his mind before the policeman turned his attention their way. At last, she decided to do something that she’d never done before. She was about to play the royalty card. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures. And right now, she was most definitely desperate.
But then she had a thought. “If I don’t file charges, it’s not evidence.”
“You’ll have to take it up with the officer.”
Seriously. Why was the man so stubborn?
“Do you know who I am?”
Before the man could respond, the policeman strode over to them. “I’ll be taking that.”
The mystery man readily handed over her purse. She glared at him, but she didn’t have time to say anything. Her focus needed to remain on getting the journal back.
“That’s my purse. I need it back,” Annabelle pleaded with the officer. “All of my important things are in there.”
“Sorry, miss. Afraid it’s evidence now.” When the young officer glanced at her, the color drained from his face. “Lady Annabelle, I didn’t know it was you. I... I’m sorry.”
She smiled hoping to put him at ease. “It’s all right. You’re just doing your duty. As for my purse, could I have it back now?”
Color rose in the officer’s face. His gaze lowered to the purse in his hand. “The thing is, ma’am, regulations say I have to turn this in as evidence. My captain is always telling us to follow the regs. But seeing as it’s you, I guess I could make an exception—”
“No.” The word was out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying—or maybe she did realize it. She didn’t want this young man getting in trouble with his captain because she had him break the rules. “You do what you need to do and I’ll come by the police station to pick it up later.”
The officer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Much appreciated, ma’am, especially seeing as you’re the victim. I’ll need you to file a complaint against the suspect.”
“I...I’m not filing charges.”
The officer frowned at her. “That would be a mistake.”
He went on to list the reasons that letting the kid get away with this crime would be a bad idea. And he had some good points. In the end, she had to agree with him.
“Okay. I’ll need you and the man who caught the thief to make statements down at the station.” The officer glanced around. “Where did he go?”
She glanced around for her hero, but there was no sign of him. How could he vanish so quickly?
“I didn’t get a chance to catch his name much less take a statement.” The officer shook his head as he noted something on the pad of paper in his hand.
Why had the man disappeared without giving his statement? Was he afraid of cops? Or was it something else? Something that had him hiding behind dark sunglasses and a shaggy beard?
Or perhaps she’d watched one too many cop shows. She’d probably never know the truth about him. But that didn’t stop her from imagining that he was a bad boy, maybe a wrongly accused fugitive or a spy. Someone as mysterious as him had to have an interesting background. What could it be?
CHAPTER TWO (#ub43de4ee-fb5f-5969-aff7-80af792236e2)
AT LAST SHE’D ARRIVED.
Annabelle checked the time on her cell phone. Luckily, she’d had it in her pocket or it would have been confiscated with her purse. She had two minutes to spare before her meeting with an executive of the Fo Shizzle Cafés. Her name was Mary and they’d corresponded for the past few weeks. It seemed Grayson Landers, the CEO and mastermind behind the hip cafés, was only hands-on once a site had been vetted by a trusted member of his team.
Annabelle took a seat at one of the umbrella tables off to the side of the historic piazza in the South Shore. She glanced around, but there weren’t any professional young women lurking about.
Annabelle looked down at the screen of her phone. Her social media popped up. There were already numerous posts about the incident with her purse. There were photos of her, but no photos of her hero’s face. Too bad.
And then a thought came to her. Perhaps a phone call to the police station would hurry along the return of her possessions. Her finger moved over the screen, beginning the search for the phone number—
“You’re seriously not going to let me through?”
The disgruntled male voice drew Annabelle’s attention. She glanced up as Berto blocked a man from getting any closer. She swallowed hard. It didn’t matter how many times it happened, she was still uncomfortable having security scrutinize everyone that came within twenty meters of her.
Berto stood there like a big mountain of muscle with his bulky arms crossed and his legs slightly spread. Annabelle had no doubt he was ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. He’d done it before with some overly enthusiastic admirers. Okay, so having him around wasn’t all bad, but she did take self-defense classes and knew how to protect herself.
“You’ll have to go around. The lady does not want to be disturbed.” There was no waver in Berto’s voice.
“I’d like to speak to the lady.”
“That’s not happening.”
Annabelle couldn’t see Berto’s face, but she could imagine his dark frown. He didn’t like anyone messing with his orders and that included keeping strangers at a distance.
Annabelle’s gaze moved to the stranger. She immediately recognized him. He was the man who’d rescued her purse from that thief. What was he doing here?
He was a tall man, taller than Berto, but not quite as bulky. The man’s dark hair was short and wavy, just begging for someone to run their fingers through it. And those broad shoulders were just perfect to lean against during a slow dance.
He was certainly handsome enough to be a model. She could imagine him on the cover of a glossy magazine. He didn’t appear threatening. Perhaps he was interested in her. What would it hurt to speak to him?
Annabelle slipped her phone in her pocket. “Berto, is that any way to treat a hero? Let him through.”
There was a twitch of a muscle in Berto’s jaw, letting her know he wasn’t comfortable with her decision. If it were up to him, her father or even the king, she’d never have a social life. It was getting old. And if this man was bold enough to stand up to Berto, she was intrigued.
Without another word, Berto stepped aside.
The man approached her table. He didn’t smile at her. She couldn’t blame him. Berto could put people on edge.
“I’m sorry about Berto. He can be overprotective. I’d like to thank you again. You’re my hero—”
“Stop saying that. I’m no one’s hero.”
“But you stopped that thief and without you, I probably wouldn’t have gotten my purse back.” Or more importantly, the journal.
“I was just in the right place at the right time. That doesn’t make me anything special.”
“Well, don’t argue with me. It’s all over social media.” She withdrew her phone. She pulled up the feed with all of the posts that included photos of this man holding her purse, but his head was lowered, shielding his face.
She noticed how the muscles of his jaw tensed. He took modesty to a whole new level. What was up with that? She was definitely intrigued by this man.
“I’m guessing you didn’t track me down to claim a reward.”
The man in a pair of navy dress shorts and a white polo shirt lowered himself into a seat across the table from her. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
Was this man for real? “Of course I do.”
He shook his head. “I meant, do you know my name?”
She was definitely missing something here, but what? “I take it you know me.”
“Of course. You are Lady Annabelle DiSalvo, daughter of the Duke of Halencia and niece of the king. Also, you are in charge of the South Shore Project.”
If he was hoping to impress her, he’d succeeded. Now, she had no choice but to ask. “And your name would be?”
“Grayson Landers.”
Wait. What? He was the genius multimillionaire?
Surely she couldn’t have heard him correctly. He removed his sunglasses and it all came together. Those striking cerulean blue eyes were unforgettable—even from an online photo. At the time, she’d thought they’d been Photoshopped. They hadn’t been. His piercing eyes were just as striking in person—maybe even more so.
Somehow, someway she’d missed a voice mail or an email because the last she knew she was supposed to be meeting Mary. She swallowed hard. She should be happy about this change of events, but her stomach was aflutter with nerves. She resisted the urge to run a hand over her hair, wishing that she’d taken the time to freshen up before this meeting.
“Mr. Landers, it’s so nice to meet you.” She stretched her hand across the table.
His handshake was firm but brief. She had no idea if that was a bad sign or not.
“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know. You were expecting Mary, but my plans changed at the last minute, making it possible for me to attend this meeting.”
“I see. I...I mean that’s great.” She sent him a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
There was just something about this man that made her nervous, which was odd. Considering who her uncle and her father were, she was used to being around powerful men.
But most of the men in her life wore their power like they wore their suits. It was out there for people to see, maybe not flaunting it, but they certainly didn’t waste their time trying to hide who and what they were. But this man, he looked like an American tourist, not a man who could buy a small country. And that beard and mustache hadn’t been in any of the photos online.
His brows rose. “Is there something wrong with my appearance?”
Drat. She’d let her gaze linger too long. “No. No. Not at all. In fact, you look quite comfortable.”
Her words did nothing to smooth the frown lines marring his handsome face. “Do I need to change for today’s meeting?”
“Um, not at all.” She jumped to her feet. “Shall we go?”
He didn’t say anything at first. And then he returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose as he got to his feet. There was something disconcerting about not being able to look into his eyes when they spoke.
The sooner she got this presentation under way, the sooner it’d be over. “Would you like a tour of the South Shore?”
“Yes.”
Short and to the point. She wondered if he was always so reserved. She started to walk, thinking about where she should begin. Of course, she’d given this tour a number of times before to other potential business owners, but somehow it all felt different where Mr. Landers was concerned. Everything about him felt different.
Annabelle straightened her shoulders as she turned to the small piazza where an historic fountain adorned the center. “I thought we would start the tour here. The South Shore is a historic neighborhood.”
“I see that. Which makes me wonder why you think one of my cafés would fit in?”
“This area has had its better days.” She’d hoped her presentation would make the answer to his question evident, but she hadn’t even started yet. She laced her fingers together and turned to him. “Where buildings had once been left for nature to reduce them to rubble, there is now a growing and thriving community.”
“That’s nice, but you haven’t answered my question.”
She moved closer to the ancient fountain where four cherubs in short togas held up a basin while water spouts from the edge of the fountain shot into the basin. At night, spotlights lit up the fountain, capturing the droplets of water and making them twinkle like diamonds. Too bad she couldn’t show him. It was a beautiful sight.
“If you will give me a chance, I’m getting to it.”
He nodded. “Proceed.”
She turned to the fountain. “This is as old as the South Shore. The famous sculptor Michele Vincenzo Valentini created it. It is said that he visited Mirraccino and fell in love with the island. Wanting to put his mark upon the land he loved, he sculpted this fountain as a gift to its people. The sad thing is that not long after the project was completed, he passed on.”
“Interesting.” Grayson glanced over his shoulder at Berto. “Will he be coming with us?”
“Yes.” Without any explanation about Berto’s presence, Annabelle moved toward one of her favorite shops lining the piazza, the bakery. She inhaled deeply. The aroma of fresh-baked rolls and cinnamon greeted her, making her mouth water. Perhaps they should go inside for a sampling. Surely something so delicious that melts in your mouth would put a smile on her companion’s handsome face.
“This bakery is another place that’s been around for years. In fact, this family bakery has been handed down through the generations. And let me tell you, their baked goods can’t be surpassed. Would you care to go inside?”
He didn’t say anything at first and she was starting to wonder if he’d even heard her. And then he said, “If that’s what you’d like.”
Not exactly the ringing endorsement that she’d been hoping for, but it was good enough. And the only excuse she needed to latch on to one of those cinnamon rolls. She yanked open the door and stepped inside. The sweet, mouthwatering aromas wrapped around her, making her stomach rumble with approval. It was only then she realized that due to her flight delay not only had she missed an opportunity to freshen up but she’d also missed her lunch.
After Grayson had enjoyed a cannoli and some black coffee and she’d savored chocolate-and-pistachio biscotti with her latte, they continued the tour. They took in the new senior facility that was housed in a fully refurbished and modernized historic mansion. They walked along the waterfront and visited many of the shops and businesses where Annabelle was friends with most everyone.
“This place must be very special to you,” Grayson said.
