“I saw you walking on the grounds earlier, Signorina.”

Max’s accented English delivered in a deep masculine voice vibrated to her insides. Its cadence sent a delicious tremor through her system even though the night was warm. “I hoped you would come to the pool. Swim with me.”

His ardent demand was whispered with a pulsating urgency that said his life wouldn’t be worth living if she didn’t consent.

“I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”

“Does it matter?” came the breathtaking question.

With great daring, Greer slipped off her gold sandals, left her gold watch and gold lamé clutch bag on a table near the deep end of the pool, then dove in headfirst—still fully clothed!

Dear Reader,

I came from a family of five sisters and one brother. The four oldest girls were my parents’ first family. There was a space before my baby sister and baby brother came along.

My mother called the first four her little women, and gave each of us a Madame Alexander doll from the Little Women series based on the famous book by Louisa May Alcott. We may not have been quadruplets, but we were close in age and definitely felt a connection to each other that often meant we tuned into each other’s thoughts as we sang, played, studied and traveled together.

In our early twenties I recall a time when I took the train from Paris, France, where I’d been studying, to meet one of my sisters at the port in Genoa, Italy, where her ship came in from New York. She was returning to school in Perugia, Italy. Some of my choicest memories are our glorious adventures as two blond American sisters on vacation along the French and Italian rivieras, dodging Mediterranean playboys.

When I conceived The Husband Fund trilogy for Harlequin Romance®, I have no doubt the idea of triplet sisters coming to Europe on a lark to intentionally meet some gorgeous Riviera playboys sprang to life from my own family experiences at home and abroad.

Meet Greer, Olivia and Piper, three characters drawn from my imagination who probably have traits from all four of my wonderful, intelligent, talented sisters in their makeup.

Enjoy!

Rebecca Winters

Book 2: To Win His Heart, Harlequin Romance #3827

Book 3: To Marry for Duty, Harlequin Romance #3835

www.rebeccawinters-author.com

To Catch a Groom
Rebecca Winters

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

April 14, Kingston, New York

GREER DUCHESS could tell by tapping feet and shifting bodies that her sisters were getting antsy. “We’re almost through, guys. For November is it agreed we’ll go with Ginger Rogers Did Everything Fred Astaire Did, But She Did It Backward And In High Heels?”

“Like I said before, not everyone who buys our calendars knows who Ginger Rogers is,” Olivia spoke up.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? Piper’s drawing is so wonderful they’ll still get the point,” Greer murmured, making a unilateral decision on the spot. She adored the stylized cartoons of Luigio and Violetta, the two winsome Italian pigeons who were in love with each other.

Though Piper did the actual drawings, and Olivia headed sales, Greer was the instigator and power behind their business enterprise.

“Moving on, here are the choices we narrowed down for December. Behind Every Successful Man Is A Surprised Woman, and, A Man’s Got To Do What A Man’s Got To Do. A Woman’s Got To Do What He Can’t.”

Piper got up and stretched her softly rounded body. “I liked both those sayings the first time you thought them up.”

“I still like them,” Olivia asserted. “Your clever mind never ceases to impress me, Greer. You make the decision. We trust your judgment,” she said, rising to her feet on long, shapely legs. “Now we’ve really got to go or we’ll be late for the reading of Daddy’s will. We’re supposed to be there at ten.”

“Okay. Get the car started while I e-mail this to Don. It’ll take me two secs.”

Within a minute the sent message appeared on the computer screen. She felt relief that next year’s calendar entitled, For Women Only, would be printed and ready for distribution in May which was only a few weeks away.

Don Jardine, one of several guys she and her sisters had been dating, was the owner of the print shop. He did a terrific job for them.

Unfortunately he kept hinting that he wanted her to take him seriously because he’d fallen for her. But she wasn’t in love with him. Lately she’d found excuses not to go out with him anymore. If they could just remain business friends…

All things considered, Duchesse Designs—her brain child inspired by their only illustrious female ancestor and heroine—the Duchess of Parma, a woman in advance of her time—was doing much better than her initial conservative estimates indicated.

With orders from all over the country quadrupling since Christmas, she and her sisters were going to make a substantial profit. For the first time in five years they would be able to invest part of their earnings while they put the rest back into their company.

Naturally that was going to mean more money for Don and make him happy, too. Maybe happy enough to forgive her? She had yet to find that out. If he sent a reply e-mail that she’d better take her business to someone else, then she would have her answer.

After turning on the answering machine, she dashed out of the basement apartment to join her sisters.

All the rituals of laying their beloved father to rest had been observed except for this visit to Mr. Carlson’s office. It was a formality. Once it was behind them, they’d be able to channel their sorrow by expanding their growing business.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the law firm in downtown Kingston, New York. The receptionist showed them into the conference room where a TV and DVD player had been set up.

Soon after they’d sat down, Mr. Carlson walked in with a legal file under one arm. He greeted them, shook hands, then took his place at the end of the rectangular conference table.

“Your father asked me to read you a letter he wrote in his own hand.” He opened the file and drew it out. Once his bifocals were in place, he cleared his throat.

“To my darling daughters Greer, Piper and Olivia, whom I’ve always referred to as my precious pigeons. You came along after I turned fifty and had despaired of ever giving your mother children—

“If Walter Carlson has assembled you for the reading of this will, then it means my troublesome old ticker finally gave out and you’ve already been informed that our humble home has to be sold to pay all the medical expenses.

“I wish I could have left it to you, but it wasn’t meant to be. At least you aren’t saddled with debts. Walt will pay the latest bills and is taking care of everything. He’s aware you need time to find another place to live. Therefore he will be the one to let you know how soon you must move out.

“My greatest sadness is that none of you has ever shown the slightest inclination to marry. It worried your mother before she died, and it upsets me even more. I remember her last words to you: find a good man to marry right away and settle down to raise a family. My last words echo hers.

“To that end I’m bequeathing $5,000 to each of you. It’s from the Husband Fund your mother and I created before she passed away. You can spend it any way you want so long as it’s used in the pursuit of a spouse to help you enjoy this life to the fullest.

“You will receive those checks today. For this day and age it’s not much, but it’s given with all my love. I know my girls will be fine because you’re intelligent, talented, resourceful and have created a solid Internet business since college. However as you will discover when you put this money to the proper use, there’s more to life than earning a living.

“To stimulate your thinking, I’m insisting you remain in Walt’s office to watch your mother’s favorite classic. Humor me and make your old dad happy. I want only the best for my beautiful girls. You and your mother always were my greatest joy.

“Signed, Your loving, concerned father, Matthew Duchess, February 2, Kingston, New York.”

When Mr. Carlson finished reading the letter and looked up, Greer turned her blond head to eye her fair-haired sisters seated around the table.

Because their dad’s health had been deteriorating long before they’d buried him six weeks ago, they’d already been through the most painful part of their mourning period. Certainly with all the bills owing to the extra health care costs for both their mom and dad, the idea of an inheritance had never crossed their minds.

To find out their parents had left them any money at all came as a total surprise. But the mention of a Husband Fund completely soured the gift for Greer.

Not only that…she balked at the idea of being forced to view the film their funny, dear mom must have seen too many times to count.

It was one of those Hollywood movies about three women who decide to get married and scheme to find a millionaire in the process. However their mother had never been able to get Greer to watch it because Greer found the concept utterly absurd.

If a woman wanted that kind of money, she didn’t need a man. All she had to do was become a millionaire herself!

But their mother had been born in a different era with a completely different mind-set about a woman’s choices in life.

Being a hopeless romantic, she’d named her nonidentical triplets for her favorite movie stars. In fact she’d raised her daughters on fairy tales.

Greer had never been a great proponent of them.

While Olivia and Piper swooned over the beautiful girl ending up with the handsome prince just because she was beautiful, Greer often upset her sisters by fabricating her own renditions.

She much preferred that the beautiful, innocent, helpless heroine use her brain to figure out a financial scheme to buy the castle and lands from Prince Charming who needed a lot more going for him than charm to attract her and win her hand in marriage.

Greer had shocked their mother when she’d told her it was probably a man who’d thought up all those fractured fairy tales.

It wasn’t that Greer had anything against men per se. In fact she loved to date and often tripled dated with her sisters. Don and his friends had been the latest bunch of guys they’d gone out with as a group. But she drew the line at a serious relationship.

There was plenty of time for marriage in the future. Her own parents hadn’t married until much later in life when they were finally ready to settle down and have a family. That was good enough for her.

Many times Greer, the oldest of the triplets who’d always espoused the “all for one, one for all” theory, had told her sisters that getting married would spoil the fun of building the business they’d started from scratch to see how far they could take it.

She glanced back at the attorney. “Do we have to stay and watch the film?”

“Only if you want your five thousand dollars. That was your father’s stipulation. If you choose not to sit through the viewing, I’m to give the money to the cancer foundation in your mother’s memory.” His brows lifted. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen it several times and enjoy it more every time.”

Greer rolled her eyes in disbelief, ready to bolt, but her sisters made no move to leave. Deep down she knew why. As much as the three of them hated the idea of being a captive audience to such a ridiculous movie, they were faced with a moral dilemma.

Because of the restrictions about the money, it was no good to them and would never be spent. But they couldn’t walk out now. That would be like throwing everything back in their parents’ faces. The sobering realization that they’d had the best mother and father in the world kept them nailed to their chairs.

After crossing one long, elegant leg over the other, Greer waited while Mr. Carlson, who had to be in his seventies, moved the TV closer.

Once he started the DVD, she sat back in the leather chair prepared to suffer through another story no doubt written, produced and cast by men, for men.

Not only was the movie much worse than she’d thought, Mr. Carlson was glued to the screen, glassy eyed. Ten minutes into the film and Greer had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter.

Flashing her sisters a covert glance, she sensed they were having the same problem. But out of respect for their father’s wishes, they managed to contain themselves.

When the show came to an end, a collective silence filled the room before Mr. Carlson realized it was time to shut off the DVD.

He turned to them. “Would thirty days give you girls enough time to vacate the house?”

“We’ve already moved to Mrs. Weyland’s basement apartment across the street from us,” Greer informed him.

The girls nodded. “We left our home spotless.”

“The keys are in this envelope along with a paper that lists our cell phone numbers and the address of our new apartment.” Greer pushed it toward him before she shot out of her chair, ready to go.

He rose more slowly and handed them their checks. “You’re as remarkable and self-sufficient as your father always told me you were. Yet I could hope for your sakes you’ll take your parents’ advice.” He stared pointedly at Greer. “Women weren’t meant to be on their own.”

The man’s sincerity couldn’t be doubted. But his comment happened to be one of the twelve comments appearing on the calendar she’d thought up last year featuring Men’s Most Notable Quotes About Women. The calendar had been an instant success.

Greer didn’t dare look at her sisters or she would have cracked up on the spot. Hilarity had been building inside her. She couldn’t stifle it any longer. They had to get out of there quick!

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Carlson.”

So saying, Greer made a beeline for the door, clutching the check in hand. Her sisters followed.

They hurried down the hall to the crowded elevator. By some miracle they reached their father’s old Pontiac parked around the corner before they exploded with laughter.

Since Olivia had a better sense of direction than the others, she always drove them when they were together.

“After the first close-up of Betty Grable, I thought we were going to have to call emergency for Mr. Carlson!”

“That generation’s hopeless.”

“The movie was dreadful!”

“But our mother loved it, bless her heart.”

“And Daddy loved her!”

“And we loved both of them, so what are we going to do about the—”

“No—” Greer blurted. “Don’t say the ‘H’ word.”

For the rest of the drive home they giggled like schoolgirls instead of twenty-seven-year-old women.

When they pulled to a stop at the curb across the street from their old house, Olivia looked over her shoulder at Greer who was seated in the back. “Let’s go get us a new car. This one already has 122,000 miles on it.”

That sounded like her impulsive sister. “Right this minute?”

“Why not?”

Before Greer could negate the suggestion, Piper, the romantic, shook her head. “With fifteen thousand dollars to put down, we could buy a new house. What do you think?”

Greer, the pragmatic one, said, “I think I’m too exhausted to think.” It came out sounding grumpy because the Husband Fund money was untouchable and they all knew it.

“Mrs. Weyland says we need a vacation,” Olivia muttered.

Piper rested her head against the window. “I’d love to visit the Caribbean.”

“Who wouldn’t, but we can’t go.”

Both sisters blinked. “Why not?”

Greer leaned forward. “Because it’s April. By the time we could get away from the business, it would be June. I think we could run into a hurricane.”

“How do you know that?”

“Our northeast distributor, Jan. She scuba dives there in February when the weather is perfect.”

“Then how about Hawaii?”

Olivia wrinkled her nose at Piper. “Everybody complains it’s too touristy. I’d rather go someplace more exotic, like Tahiti.”

“The airfare alone would be exorbitant.”

“So what’s your suggestion?” Both sisters were waiting for Greer’s answer.

“I don’t have one, and you guys know why.”

Olivia’s eyes resembled the blue in a match flame when she felt strongly about something. “Then we’ll go through the motions of husband hunting in some wonderful place like Australia where the beaches are reputed to be the most beautiful in the world. Mrs. Weyland’s right, you know? We haven’t had a break in several years.”

By now Piper’s irises were glowing an iridescent blue-green. “Daddy didn’t say we had to end up with a husband.”

Greer could acknowledge she had a point. “You’re right. All he said was, you can spend the money any way you want so long as it’s used in the pursuit of a spouse. With $5,000 apiece, we should be able to go someplace exciting for a couple of weeks. I’m all for visiting the Great Barrier Reef.”

“Or South America!” Olivia interjected. “Don’t forget Rio. Ipanema and Copacabana are supposed to be two of the most fabulous beaches on earth.”

“Wait a minute—” Piper spread her hands in front of her. “Wherever we decide to spend our vacation, I’ve got this delicious idea how we’ll provide the bait to bring the men on fast!”

Olivia smiled. “I bet I know what you’re thinking.”

So did Greer. They’d all watched that idiotic film and weren’t triplets for nothing. “You mean turn things around by pretending we’re the millionaires?”

“Why not?”

Why not indeed. Greer realized it was a stretch, but if her business projections held true, they’d be doing very well for themselves by the time they were thirty.

“Guys—” Piper broke in with dramatic flourish. “We have a lot more going for us than money. We’re titled! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Duchesses of Kingston!”

Brilliant.

So brilliant in fact, Greer was still staring at her talented sister in wonder when Olivia suddenly blurted, “The Duchesse pendant!”

No one’s mind could leap faster from A to Z than Olivia’s.

“Yes?” Greer prompted. “What about it?”

The pendant was a gold rectangle. It was encrusted with amethysts surrounding a pearl-studded pigeon with a red-orange eye of pyrope garnet.

According to the story their dad told them, a court artisan fashioned the pendant for the Duchess of Parma, otherwise known as Marie-Louise of Austria of the House of Bourbon. On the back of the pendant was a stylized “D” and “P.”

When she died, one of her children inherited it, and then it was given to a granddaughter who passed it down through the Duchesse line until it fell into their father’s hands.

In anticipation of their sixteenth birthday, Greer’s parents had gone to a jeweler who’d had two matching pendants fashioned using the original for a model so each of their daughters could have the same memento.

“For your children to cherish,” their parents had said, giving them a loving hug and kiss along with the gift.

Eleven years later and their daughters were still single. Greer assumed that one day they’d all be married and have families. She just didn’t know when, and couldn’t have cared less.

“Think, my dear duchesses!” Olivia grinned. “Where is there a lovely beach with a whole bunch of gorgeous playboys running around looking to marry a titled woman wearing the family jewels?”

“The Riviera, of course.”

“Of course!” Greer’s sisters cried.

“Except that we came through the illegitimate line of the House of Parma-Bourbon,” she reminded them.

“Who cares? We are related!”

“Only if the story’s true.”

“Daddy seemed to think it was,” Piper reasoned, “otherwise how would he have ended up with the pendant?”

“Somebody could have made up a tall tale about it that grew legs down through the years,” Greer reminded her sisters. “Still, we do have it in our possession, and no one’s been able to prove we’re not related. Anyway, you’ve given me an idea.

“We know Marie-Louise went by three other titles; Duchess of Colorno, Duchess of Piacenza and Duchess of Guastalla. So what if we each took a title representing our relationship to her? We could outcon all the playboys we want.”

At this point her sisters stared in awe at Greer whose eyes reflected the exact color of the Duchess of Parma violet.

The flower had been named for their ancestor who loved violets so much, when she wrote letters she often left the imprint of the flower rather than her signature.

A conspiratorial smile broke out on Olivia’s face. “I say we start on the Italian Riviera with one side trip to Parma and Colorno to see the palaces where she lived. Then work our way along the coast to the French and Spanish Riviera, letting it be known we’ve been in Italy visiting our…royal relations?”

Brilliant! Sometimes Olivia’s innovative ideas reflected pure genius.

Greer’s thoughts leaped ahead. “We’ll do business while we’re there so we can write off our trip as an expense on our taxes. It shouldn’t be difficult to find someone to translate our calendars into various languages and distribute them for us. It might be the start of something really big.”

Piper’s eyes gleamed. “In time Violetta and Luigio could become household words all over Europe. Just don’t forget we’ll have to honor Daddy’s wishes by trying our hardest to snag a husband at the same time,” she reminded them.

“It’ll be a piece of cake,” Olivia declared. “As soon as we let it be known we’re duchesses, our unsuspecting victims will fall all over us.”

“And we know why, don’t we,” Greer said with a definite smirk. “Because they’re nothing but a bunch of impoverished adventurers who prey on wealthy women and prefer to marry a titled one if possible.” One delicately arched brow lifted.

“Their black moment will come when we smile sweetly and admit we’re the poor American duchesses. ‘Sorry. No tiara.’ So if they want to take back their proposals…”

Piper shook her head at Greer. “You’re wicked.”

“Terrible,” Olivia concurred.

“Not as terrible as they are. Just watch the bodies fall!” Greer eyed her sisters with unholy glee. “Let’s go inside and make our plans while we eat lunch.”

Piper was the first one out of the car. Olivia followed. “If we hurry, we can apply for passports before the place closes today.”

Greer brought up the rear. “Airfares are really cheap to Europe right now, which is good news since we’ll need new wardrobes.”

“If we’re going to do this thing right, maybe we should charter a private yacht.”

“I’m way ahead of you but I don’t think we could afford it.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to find out,” Olivia said. “Maybe if it were a small one?”

Once inside the apartment Greer hurried over to the computer in the living room, which they’d made into their office. The girls hovered around while she did a dozen searches of yachting services.

“Hmm. I’m afraid they’re out of our price range. So far the best we can do is charter a crewed sailboat for twelve people. It’s $5,000 a week per person if the boat is full at the time of departure. That’s no good.”

Piper leaned over Greer’s shoulder. “Just for fun, click to the crewed catamaran listings. It’s says they’re cheaper.”

When the information appeared on the screen, they studied the names of the boats with avid interest.

“Look!” Olivia blurted. “There’s one called the Piccione.”

Greer had already spotted the Italian word for pigeon. Their dad had always called his daughters his “pigeons” because of the beautiful white Duchesse pigeon the Italians had named in honor of the Duchess of Parma. Just for fun she clicked to it. After the specifics popped up, she read them aloud.

“This immaculate, white, fifty-one-foot sloop sleeps two to six guests. Crew of three. Full amenities, three meals per day. $3,000 per person. Ten days on the Mediterranean.

“Ten guys! Plan your own itinerary. The swift way to get close to any beach. Contact F. Moretti, Vernazza, Italy.”

Olivia nudged Greer. “That’s what you call exclusive at the right price. It must be destiny! E-mail them and find out if they have any openings left for this summer or early fall.”

“Do we care which month?”

They both shook their heads.

After sending an inquiry, Greer joined them in the kitchen. They hurriedly ate sandwiches before rummaging around for their birth certificates.

Once those were found, they left for the passport office. En route they stopped to get their passport pictures taken, reminding them they all needed a new hairdo to go with their new duchess look.

An hour later they started for home. On the way Piper noticed a travel agency. She told Olivia to stop the car so she could run inside and get some brochures.

On the way back to the apartment, they almost got into an argument because everyone wanted to savor the brochure on Vernazza. Greer had to admit the place sounded like heaven.

One of the most unspoilt areas of the Mediterranean. To visit Vernazza is to visit the Cinque Terre, a kingdom of nature and wild scents; five villages suspended between sea and sky, clinging on to cliffs and surrounded by green hills. Who visits Cinque Terre can choose between a dive in the sea, a hike in the hills, a walk in the narrow “carruggi,” or a boat trip to a sanctuary or to a seafood lunch.

Piper was the first to reach the computer after they’d entered the apartment.

“We’ve got an answer to our e-mail!”

Greer and Olivia leaned over her shoulder while she read it to them.

“Thank you for your inquiry. Due to an unexpected cancellation, the June 18 slot is available. Woohoo!” She jumped up and down in the swivel chair.

“You are very fortunate since the twentieth is the date of the Grand Prix in Monaco where we have docking privileges. If you wish to take advantage, you must advise us immediately.”

Piper swung around in the chair. “Monaco, guys. The playground of the rich and ‘wannabe’ rich and famous. The Grand Prix! Think, Olivia— Maybe you’ll be able to see that dashing French race car driver you talk about all the time. The one that puts Fred’s nose out of joint every time you mention him.”

“It’s Fred’s fault if he introduced me to Formula I racing. Wouldn’t it be something to bring home Cesar Villon’s autograph?” Olivia’s eyes were shining.

Greer was thinking it would be even more exciting to meet an Italian from their own Duchesse family who could provide the documentation proving their relationship to the Duchess of Parma.

“Piper? Find out if they’ll accept another thousand a piece from us so we can have the boat to ourselves.”

“Ooh, I forgot about that, Greer. Good idea. I don’t dare tell Tom about this or he’ll want to come along.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It isn’t as if you’re in love with him.”

“How do you know?”

“Well are you?”

“Maybe.”

“Then ten days away from him will prove it one way or the other. Right?”

“I suppose so.” Piper finished typing the question and sent an instant message.

While they waited for an answer, Greer studied one of the brochures with a map detailing the Mediterranean coastline bordering Europe.

Another shriek of delight came out of Piper. “They’re willing if we pay in full now.”

“Before we commit, we’ve got to find out if we can get plane reservations,” Greer cautioned.

“I’ve already inquired.” Olivia put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Everything’s booked solid into Milan, Rome and Bologna, but we could still get seats to Genoa for June 16, returning June 29.”

Greer looked at the map once more. “That’s only fifty or so miles from Vernazza,” she estimated aloud. “We could take a train and find a hotel for the 17 and 28. Book those flights for us, Olivia!”

Piper turned to Greer. “How do we want to pay for the boat?”

She pulled the wallet out of her purse. “Here. Use our business credit card to pay the bill in full. Let them know it’s the Duchess of Kingston of the House of Parma-Bourbon making a reservation for an exclusive party of three, and you want that information kept confidential.”

When the deed was done, their laughter bounced off the living-room walls.

“That was good thinking, Greer. Now it’s guaranteed word will leak out,” Olivia murmured. “We’ll have to arrive at the dock looking sensational.”

“Oh—” Piper cried. “You just made me think of something else. Remember that Paris elevator scene in the film about the American girl whose fiancé falls in love with a French girl? Remember the knockout dress she had on?”

Olivia’s delicate brows arched. “Who could forget? We ought to be able to find inexpensive outfits and beachwear like the ones she wore. Maybe a hat or two? No one will know we didn’t pay a fortune for them.”

“Not if we wear our pendants,” Piper inserted.

“Exactly. The men we’re targeting survive by going after women with jewels. Without a jeweler’s loupe, they won’t be able to detect the fakes from the original.” To this day Greer couldn’t tell the difference.

“Then it’s settled! We’ll arrive in Italy wearing our pendants and see what happens! Since we have to stay at a hotel the first night we get there, I say we make a big splash. What’s the most exclusive one in Genoa?”

“Just a sec, Olivia.”

Piper got busy on the Internet once more. “Hmm…how about the Splendido in nearby Portofino, first discovered by the Duke of Windsor. ‘Preferred by royals overlooking Portofino harbor, gateway to the Riviera.’ Twelve hundred Eurodollars a night for the three of us. It’s about twenty-five miles from the airport and they have limo service. Do you guys think it’s worth it?”

Both Greer and Olivia nodded.

“So do I. Let me check to see if there’s a room available for the seventeenth. By the time the twenty-eighth rolls around, we’ll have had our fun and can stay in a youth hostel if our funds are running low.”

Greer’s eyes narrowed. “A hostel will be the perfect place to invite our ‘would be’ husbands when we drop our little bombs.”

Olivia started chuckling. “You have no heart.”

“You’re scary,” Piper told Greer.

She gave them her innocent look. “Did Cinderella have a choice when the carriage turned into a pumpkin on the way home, leaving her with one glass slipper?

“Can we help it if all we’ll have to show for our attendance at the ball is the pendant we were wearing when we arrived?”

CHAPTER TWO

June 17, House of Lords, England

“MY LORDS, we will begin by hearing the opening statement from Signore Maximilliano di Varano of the House of Parma-Bourbon. He is the chief counselor avvocato for the Emilia-Romagna Farmers Consorzio of Italy, of which the Federazione del Prosciutto de Parma, a member, is the appellant in the case brought against the United Kingdom Supermarket Cartel, known as UKSC, represented by Lord Winthrope.”

Back in the House of Lords for the second time in a year, Max got to his feet, determined his appeal would force the case to be moved to the European Court of Justice for a definitive decision.

“Thank you, my lords,” he began with virtually no trace of accent, thanks to an elite private school education that included four years at Oxford and extensive travel in the U.S. and Canada with his cousins.

“To refresh your memories, Prosciutto de Parma, or Parma ham, has been made in Parma from pigs reared in northern and central Italy since Etruscan times. It is famous throughout the world with a name that is a protected designation of origin.

“The Corona Ducale, a five-pointed coronet symbolizing the ancient Duchy of Parma, is the outward guarantee of authenticity. According to Italian law, it has to appear upon the product in whatever form it is sold to the customer. If he buys a complete ham, or slices cut up at a shop, it has to bear the brand. If he buys prepackaged slices, it must appear stamped on the package.

“The second respondent, Prime Choice Affiliates, is a reputable food processor in Herefordshire that prepares packages of authentic Parma ham slices and pieces to be sold to the first respondent, UKSC, which sells them to the public in its supermarkets. Unfortunately it’s done without the Corona Ducale on the package.

“The Federazione del Prosciutto de Parma maintains this is an unlawful practice under Italian law, as well as European law, enforceable in the courts of all the member states.

“In the present proceedings, the Federazione claims a continuing injunction against Prime Choice Affiliates and the UKSC, restraining them from marketing the packages as Parma ham until the European Court of Justice can hear the case and make a definitive ruling. I now yield my time back to Lord Winthrope.”

When Max sat down, his assistant, Bernaldo, handed him a note.

With one ear taking in the QC’s opening remarks, he read the message. But his mind was focused on the case to the degree that it didn’t register until he’d read it a second time.

Your secretary in Colorno just received a call from the head of security at Cristoforo Colombo airport in Genoa Sestri. You’re to phone Fausto Galli at 555 328 as soon as possible. It’s a classified matter of great importance.

Translated, it meant there was no crisis such as his own personal family or extended family being injured in an accident or some such thing. Relieved, he put the message in his suit pocket, making a mental note to call Signore Galli back during the recess.

For ten minutes Max listened while the QC pontificated. Finally the man came to the point.

“In my view there exists a fair argument that the supervisory role of the Parma Federation in ensuring that only the genuine product is sold as Parma ham, has been discharged once it leaves the Parma area. I yield back to Signore di Varano.”

Once again Max got up from the chair. “My lords, the issue here is whether the Federazione del Prosciutto de Parma’s prohibitions contained in a legislative measure of a member state can achieve community wide effect to the U.K. and elsewhere. Therefore I respectfully appeal this case to the European Court of Justice. Otherwise it will continue to remain at an impasse which achieves nothing for either party.”

Following his remarks, presiding judge Lord Marbury announced a fifteen-minute recess. Curious to discover what the call from Genoa was all about, Max pulled the cell phone from his breast pocket and dialed the number written on the paper.

He only had to wait two rings before he heard a male voice say, “Pronto. Signore di Varano?”

“Si?”

“It is an honor to speak to you. I have some news that I know will be of great interest to your family. Since you handle its legal affairs, I felt it prudent to alert you first.”

“Go ahead, signore.”

“A half hour ago three American women passed through customs after deboarding their flight from New York. My men detained them using the excuse they were vetting incoming passengers for information due to a suspicious person being aboard the plane. In truth, it was discovered they’re each wearing the Duchesse pendant.”

“Each?” Max shook his dark head in exasperation. “That’s impossible!”

There was only one pendant in existence, but it could be anywhere because well over a year ago the Duchess of Parma jewelry collection on display at the family palace in Colorno had been stolen.

The pendant was the least valuable of the items taken in terms of monetary worth, however its historical and sentimental value was inestimable, especially to Max’s family.

“Did you consult an expert?”

“Si. During the interrogation, photographs were taken. They were enhanced for our forensics expert who compared them against the photo of the pendant you had distributed to the police after the theft. They were a perfect match.”

Max blinked in astonishment.

“That’s why I’m calling you, Signore di Varano. Do you wish me to confiscate the pendants so they can be examined? So far the Americans still don’t know why they’re being detained.”

“That’s good. Let’s leave it that way for now. I appreciate your discretion and quick thinking, Signore Galli. You’ve handled the situation perfectly.

“However we’ve had many leads since news of the theft was made public and a reward for its return was offered. So far all the leads have turned out to be false. But I must admit this little joke initiated by some brazen Americans was meant to draw attention for a reason. One can only wonder why.”

“My very thought, particularly since the joke gets even stranger.”

The odd inflection in the other man’s voice intrigued Max. “Explain what you mean.”

“They’re sisters.”

“You mean professed nuns?”

“No, no. They are the same age with the same birthday.”

“Triplets?” You didn’t see that every day. “How old are they?”

“Ventisette.”

Twenty-seven and already leading a life of crime…

“Molto bellissima!”

Beautiful, of course.

“Their paperwork states they are the Duchesses of Kingston from New York.”

Duchesses of Kingston?

Max flicked his gaze to Lord Winthrope. If such a title existed, the esteemed QC would know who they were in an instant.

“Unfortunately I’m in London and can’t return to Genoa before evening to investigate this matter. Did you find out their purpose for being in Italy?”

“They claim to be on vacation with a little business thrown in. We checked the information they gave us. It’s been verified they’re booked at the Splendido tonight and have chartered a sailboat for tomorrow.”

“From Portofino?”

“No. Vernazza.”

A frown slowly replaced Max’s smile. That little bomb-shell hit too close to home to be a coincidence.

Two years ago he’d given the Piccione to his good friend Fabio and his two younger brothers after their parents had been lost at sea in the family fishing boat. The Morettis now made their living crewing for tourists.

To his friend’s credit and business prowess, he’d paid Max back every last Euro, though Max had never asked or expected repayment. For twenty months like clockwork he’d received a good-size installment with a note of heart-felt gratitude from the man he didn’t see nearly as often as he would have liked.

Besides watching after his brothers, Fabio now had a wife and they were expecting their second baby. Since they ran the only sailboat charter business in the tiny town which had been Max’s backyard growing up, he knew exactly where to find these Americans. That is if they intended to stick to their agenda once they were freed to leave the airport.

“You may release them, Signore Galli, but have them followed and closely watched. After my flight touches down I’ll make contact with you.”

“Bene. Arrivederci.”

After hanging up the phone, Max wrote a note on his scratch pad. He asked Bernaldo to hand carry it to Lord Winthrope. “Wait for his answer and bring it back to me.”

Bernaldo went off to do Max’s bidding. He returned a few minutes later. Max opened the note, eager to read what the other man had to say in response.

Glad to be of help, Max.

Evelyn Pierrepont succeeded his grandfather as the second duke of Kingston. He was primarily famous for his liaison with Elizabeth Chudleigh, who claimed to be the Duchess of Kingston, but the Kingston titles became extinct on the duke’s death around 1733. He had no children. Hope that answers your question.

Indeed it did.

Max lifted his head and smiled at Lord Winthrope who smiled back.

So…these American women weren’t only audacious imposters, their impudence showed a certain shrewdness to pick an English title that had become extinct over two hundred years ago and pass it off as their own.

What kind of a game were they playing to come to Italy wearing pendants identical to the stolen one? Where did they get such an idea? Why would they do it?

“Much as I’d love to run to the room and change into my swimming suit, I’m too tired.”

“Jet lag’s caught up with me, too. Let’s go to bed. You coming, Greer?”

“In a minute—”

The magic of the balmy Genoese night held her in its thrall. She’d always dreamed of coming to Italy. Though ninety percent of their ancestry was English and Scotch-Irish, their father had favored their Italian-Austrian roots. As a result he’d infected Greer with that love.

“Okay. Just don’t make noise when you let yourself in.”

“I promise,” she said before their footsteps faded.

After several business meetings which might or might not produce a foothold in Europe, followed by a late dinner, they’d taken a walk to the San Giorgio church and visited the interior.

From there they’d strolled around the tropical gardens on the grounds of the Splendido, a former sixteenth-century monastery. They’d finally ended up at its outdoor pool overlooking Portofino harbor.

In Greer’s opinion the view was worth a king’s ransom. How their mother would have loved this flower-scented paradise.

There were quite a few guests climbing in and out of the water. Waiters moved around unobtrusively refilling champagne glasses. Every so often Greer caught snatches of conversation and laughter from beautiful men and women enjoying the elegant amenities of the privileged class.

As she stood next to a palm tree wearing her designer sundress in a stunning tangerine color, her attention was caught by a man doing laps with the speed and fluidity of a shark. A great black shark, if there were such a thing she mused fancifully.

Glimpses of a bronzed, well-toned male physique and jet-black hair kept her gaze riveted. Suddenly he levered himself from the water onto the tiled deck.

The shark had legs.

Strong, powerful legs that propelled his tall, black trunk-clad body past the admiring glances from women and the envious stares of men toward Greer.

His total disregard of the surroundings testified to his inbuilt radar system which had targeted its next victim. How easy her subconscious had made it for him by sending out the message that she wanted to see if all of him lived up to her image of the quintessential playboy.

All of him did…

From an aquiline face, whose Italian bones had been refined and molded down through the centuries, gleamed a pair of black eyes that resembled volcanoes erupting in the night sky. One intimate look from them beneath expressive black brows and she felt as if her body had come too close to the mesmerizing magma.

Burned alive would be the more accurate description.

The pulse in her throat throbbed so violently, she could feel it move the pendant she wore around her neck like a choker.

She watched him watching it. He’d taken the bait.

Piper would be especially pleased to find out her suggestion to wear the family heirloom had proved to be a winner their first night in Italy.

“I saw you walking on the grounds earlier, signorina.” His heavily accented English delivered in a deep masculine voice, vibrated to her insides. Its cadence sent a delicious tremor through her system even though the night was warm. “I hoped you would come to the pool.”

Of course he did.

“I noticed you, too,” she responded boldly, for once throwing her innate caution to the wind. “That’s why I didn’t go upstairs with my sisters.”

It was a lie. She hadn’t seen him. He was too much of a predator to have given himself away beforehand. Like his species, he’d lurked in the depths until it was time to make his attack.

“Swim with me.”

His ardent demand, whispered with a pulsating urgency that said his life wouldn’t be worth living if she didn’t consent, decided her.

“I’m not wearing a suit.”

“Does it matter?” came the breathtaking question.

She could have toyed with him a trifle longer and enjoyed every provocative minute of it. But in the end she decided not to tempt fate.

“No.”

The second she said the word, she saw something flare in the dark recesses of his eyes.

Had she surprised him with her answer? To her knowledge sharks didn’t have human emotions, only instincts that led them to their nearest prey.

Well, here I am… Let’s see how long it takes you to swallow me.

With great daring she slipped off her gold sandals, left her gold watch and gold lame clutch bag on a table near the deep end of the pool, then dove in headfirst.

Having lived along the Hudson River all their lives, their father had taught Greer and her sisters to be strong swimmers. As a result, it was their favorite sport which they enjoyed on a regular basis.

The bottom of this pool was tiled in a fabulous design. She swam lower to get a better look, but was halted in her quest when a strong pair of male hands found her hips and brought her swiftly to the surface.

She emerged with her neck-length hair plastered around her head, no longer the picture of classic royal grace. Unfortunately that wasn’t what disturbed her. It was the fact that her dress had ridden up to her waist, which meant nothing was separating his hands from her skin except her underwear.

With his arresting face only centimeters from hers, she would have to put on the performance of her life not to let him know how alarmed she was by this shocking turn of events.

“We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Greer Duchess.”

“Greer,” he repeated softly. The way he pronounced it made even the hard “G” sound beautiful. His slow white smile dazzled her. “Your name is as unique as you are. What brings a beautiful American woman like you to Italy?”

It was time to try out the story she’d rehearsed. “My sisters and I are here to visit relatives.”

“Ah, yes?”

“Yes. My ancestor was the Duchess of Colorno.”

His black eyes flared in recognition. “You’re referring to Maria-Luigia of Austria of the House of Parma-Bourbon?”

So he knew his Italian history well enough to recognize the Duchesse pendant! This was so easy it was scary!

She couldn’t wait to tell Olivia and Piper she’d caught a real playboy on her first night! Now all she had to do was play him for a while before she reeled him in and got him to propose marriage.

When she unmasked herself, he would slip off the hook and swim away. Then she would be able to enjoy the rest of this fabulous vacation knowing she’d followed her father’s stipulation about the Husband Fund to the letter.

“Yes. That’s right. My sisters and I are the American descendants from her Duchesse line.” No need to add “the illegitimate line” at this juncture. “Now that I’ve told you something about myself, I’d like to know who you are,” she said in the most seductive tone she could produce.

“Why don’t you guess my name?” he came back in a deep voice that was equally tantalizing.

As if to emphasize his remark, she felt his thumbs making lazy circles against the nylon, increasing her awareness of him while they tread water. Her insides turned to liquid.

She gazed at his incredible male beauty through veiled eyes and said the first thing that popped into her head. “Luigio?”

His lips twitched, as if what she’d said had truly amused him. “No.”

Greer had never been this daring in her life. But something about the man was like an elixir in her veins, increasing her bravado. She flashed him a brilliant smile. “This might take a long time.”

He gave an elegant shrug of his broad Italian shoulders before drawing her closer. “I’ve been in London on business. Now I’m on vacation for the next week and would love nothing better than to spend every second of it with you, bellissima.”

Every second? That meant day and night. She just bet he would!

To her consternation she realized she would love the same thing. A shiver of delight ran through her body.

She’d always heard the expression “carnal thoughts,” but she’d never understood their true meaning until now…

Greer could find no fault in this Italian heartthrob who had it all down pat. Most likely he’d just left a woman in London and was now on the lookout for his next conquest.

As long as she was the bait with jewels and a title, why not tease him for a while longer first. She had an idea it would be a new experience for him.

“Unfortunately my sisters and I are leaving for Vernazza in the morning and won’t be back.”

“I know it well. Since you show no fear of the water, I would be happy to take you to a secret grotto which can only be reached by swimming a short distance beneath the sea.”

She flashed him an artless smile. “Like Edmond Dantes who found Abbe Faria’s treasure on Monte Cristo, will I discover gold and silver and precious pearls?”

His hard-muscled body stilled before he cocked his dark, handsome head. Even wet, his vibrant hair had a tendency to curl. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

Again she had the oddest sensation that she’d said something unexpected, something that puzzled him. “Isn’t everyone searching for treasure that will bring them ultimate happiness?”

“Ultimate happiness?” he murmured the words as if to himself, but his gaze was playing over her features, dwelling on each feminine attribute for heart-stopping seconds. “What is that I wonder?”

The philosopher emerging from the adventurer. He was a better actor than she’d first supposed.

“Thanks to Alexandre Dumas, we do know one thing…”

“That’s right,” he whispered. His lips were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on hers. In reaction her toes curled against his hair-roughened legs as their limbs tangled beneath the water. “Though the Count of Monte Cristo had his revenge against his enemies, he didn’t find happiness after all.”

“Except that Dumas’s book was a tale of fiction,” she countered.

Again his eyes glimmered like black fires burning on a distant hill. “If you wish, I will take you to the island of Monte Cristo. It’s not far from Vernazza. Perhaps there you will find what you’re looking for.”

You mean you, of course.

She struggled not to laugh at the pure conceit of the man. “Perhaps.”

“Does that mean—”

“It means…perhaps,” she interrupted with a flirtatious smile. “Now I’m tired and must say good night.”

His hands remained fastened on her hips. “But it’s not late, and you’re too young to be tired.”

“True, but we just flew in today, and were detained by the police while we were going through customs. Three hours to be exact. It was very exhausting.”

“I’m sorry such a terrible thing happened to you in my country. Why would the police do this?”

“The head of security said there was a suspicious person on board our jet. He and his men took statements from the passengers who sat near this person.”

“Were you able to help?”

“I don’t know. We tried to remember the people seated around us, but no one looked suspicious to me. When we were finally let go, all we wanted was to reach our hotel and go to sleep.”

“Of course,” he whispered with compassion. His eyes wandered over her in intense appraisal before he said, “Momento—”

With one hand still possessively molding the curve of her hip, he signaled a waiter, rapping out something in rapid Italian. The other man nodded and disappeared.

Reading the question in her eyes, her captor explained, “I asked him to bring you a robe to wear back to your room. Such a delectable sight should not be for everyone’s eyes.”

Only yours, and you’ve been drinking your fill with un-abashed enjoyment, she thought. He played it just right. The lothario with a streak of chivalry to keep him from being a complete cad.

“Thank you, Signore…Mysterioso,” she improvised in her best Italian which, sadly, left a lot to be desired.

A bark of laughter escaped his throat, the first unorchestrated response to come out of him. In that millisecond of time she was allowed a glimpse of what lay beneath the polished veneer and felt an emotional tug totally foreign to her.

Not wishing to delve any deeper into her suddenly confused emotions, she arched backward to escape his grasp and struck out for the shallow end. That way she could use the steps and retain some semblance of dignity.

However he managed to get there first. In a surprisingly protective gesture, he placed the extended white toweling robe around her shoulders. She was quite amazed at the speed with which the waiter had obeyed the stranger’s command without question.

She raised violet eyes to meet the smoldering depths of his. “Thank you. I was feeling a little vulnerable.”

“Like Venus rising from the sea?” he suggested.

The second the words came out of his mouth, Greer could picture the famous painting of the Roman goddess of beauty awakening from a seashell without any clothes on.

Greer blushed at the shocking analogy and turned her head away. But he made the situation even more explosive and intimate by lifting the pendant and lowering his head to kiss the tiny pulse fluttering madly beneath it.

“One day soon when we have no audience except the sun on our skin and the sand beneath our bodies, I hope to see you exactly as Botticelli created her,” he murmured against her scented throat.

Between the sensuality of his remark and the brush of his lips branding her heated flesh, she drew in an audible breath before wheeling away from his grasp.

Trembling, she plucked her watch and purse from the table where she’d left them. Before she could decide whether to wear or carry her high heels, he’d looped his index finger through the gold straps.

“I’ll escort you to your room. Not even the Splendido can guarantee the safety of a woman on her own who looks like you. In your exhausted state you would be no match for someone who would like to spirit you away to some secret lagoon for the night…”

The image he’d created sent another shiver through her body, part ecstasy, part fright.

Before this trip, the playboys Greer had pictured in her mind were likable. Manageable. Easy come, easy go.

Maybe a little miffed to recognize they’d been conned, but gallant enough to salute the girls as worthy adversaries who’d pulled off a well-executed charade. No hard feelings as they made their charming retreat from the playing field.

Up until this moment she’d been enjoying a game that had its nascence back in Kingston two months earlier. But just now when he’d kissed her and whispered his daring remark, she’d sensed a power shift.

Now he was the one dangling her as surely as he dangled her shoes from his fingers.

Instinct told her this was a dangerous man, the kind you didn’t lure back to a youth hostel to tell him “sorry, wrong duchess.” He would be the one to decide when he was tired of playing, then he would move in for the kill. Until then he would keep her trapped in his sights, and there’d be no place for her to hide.

A thrill of alarm caused her to walk faster.

When they reached the elevator where other guests were coming and going, she was in a state of panic and used the brief interim to extricate the hotel room key from her purse.

However by the time they’d exited onto the third floor, reason had reasserted itself. She told herself it was lack of sleep that had made her so uneasy. She would be leaving the hotel tomorrow and since she had no intention of ever seeing him again, she was even able to smile up at him with renewed confidence.

After the long transatlantic flight followed by a grueling three hours detainment at the hands of the police, she hadn’t been herself at all. Otherwise she wouldn’t have given a perfect stranger the green light to pursue her.

For a woman to plunge into the pool with her clothes on in order to sink her hooks into him, what else was a man like him supposed to think?

Tonight had been an experiment. A dry run. Whoops. A wet one, she mused nervously to herself, realizing her emotions bordered on hysteria.

She’d blown it, but she’d learned from it. Tomorrow would be a new day filled with more playboys and fresh possibilities.

The hotel room door was in sight. With one fluid movement she unlocked it, but before she could slip inside, he left a kiss on the side of her neck that set her whole body on fire. “Until tomorrow.”

His promise sounded more like an avowal.

“Goodbye,” she announced through the crack in the door before shutting it hard and locking it.

Congratulating herself on making it safely to her room, she staggered over to the nearest chair and held on while she attempted to recover from her fright. Her clutch bag fell to the floor with a soft thud.

Too late she remembered he still had her shoes. No matter. She didn’t need them. In truth, she never wanted to see them again. She never wanted to see him again.

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