When She Was Bad...

“Tommy’s busy,” H said.

Grateful for anything that would distract him from his thoughts, Butch focused on the lobby. The registration desk was quiet but couples were lined up at Tommy’s concierge desk. That was normal for this time of day.

“Should we hire him another assistant?” he asked. “That young Garibaldi is anxious to better himself.”

“Gari wants to take over the flower shop. He works there every chance he gets, and Letitia says he has a real talent for floral design. Besides, Tommy can handle it,” H said. “It takes him a little longer because he wants to match couples up with the perfect activity. In the long run, that will build repeat business.”

“Right,” Butch said. His cell phone rang and he snatched it up. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Castellano?”

“Yes, Marlene.”

“I just pulled up the record. Ms. Rossi checked in at 1:00 p.m. Henry put her in Bungalow 3.”

“Is she all right? Did you ask if there’s anything she needs?”

“She’s not picking up her phone. I checked with Henry and he thinks she and the man she was with headed for the pool.”

“She was with a man?” Butch was appalled when the words nearly came out on a squeak.

“Yes, sir. Henry was clear about that. The man told the bell captain that they could take care of the luggage themselves. All she had was a small duffel.”

Butch glanced at H. “She checked in at 1:00 p.m. And she was with a man.”

H said nothing.

Butch pocketed the phone and then suddenly tossed down his cigar. “Wait a minute. Wait just a damn minute. I was standing right here at one o’clock. We didn’t go to our meeting with Atwell until one-thirty.” He dredged the details up in his mind. He’d been in the office for two hours, pacing and chewing on his cigar much as he was doing right now. Disgusted, he picked up his cigar and shoved it back in his pocket. “How in hell did I miss her?”

“You haven’t seen her in a while,” H pointed out. “People change in forty years.”

Butch’s stomach sank. Yes, they did. He shifted his gaze from the lobby to his reflection in the glass. He certainly had. The last time he’d seen Renie face-to-face, he’d been twenty-two. His hair had been black and wavy, and his body had been rock solid. There wasn’t a doubt in his head that she still carried that image around with her in her head. She’d always been such a sweet little romantic.

A sweet little romantic who’d brought a man to his island to celebrate Valentine’s Day!

Butch’s eyes narrowed. “They’re not at the bungalow, not yet.” Turning to H, he said, “Send two men, Angelo and Armando, down to Bungalow 3. I want to know the minute they show up.”

“Yes, sir,” H said and punched numbers into his cell.

“C’mon,” Butch said. “We’re going to the poolside café.”

AS FAR AS Friday the thirteenths went, Pepper was certain that this one was going to set a record. As she treaded water, she made a list of her current disasters. Not only had she lost her aunt and the Monet, but she’d just made love with the enemy. More than once.

How could she have done that? Was she really as disaster prone as her grandmother had always said she was? But as she watched Cole walk out of the water and pick his clothes up from where they’d been drying on the outcrop of rocks, she was reminded of exactly why she’d made love with him—and even worse, why she wanted to do it again.

It had been that way from the first. She couldn’t look at the man without wanting him.

Pushing the thought aside, Pepper continued to tread water. She couldn’t stay in the ocean for the rest of the day. And Cole would wait until she joined him. The man was relentlessly patient, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the minute she walked out of the water, he would start pressing her again about her involvement in the theft of the Monet.

Her options were limited. The island was small so even if she managed to shake Cole Buchanan she wouldn’t be able to do it for long. Then there was the fact that her original plan to get the Monet back to San Francisco in time for the charity auction on Sunday night was clearly in jeopardy. With only one flight on and off the island each day, Irene wouldn’t get here until Saturday and chances were good that Pepper wouldn’t be able to leave the island until Sunday.

She needed to make a few phone calls to see if Irene had chartered a flight the way Cole had. Irene didn’t have a cell so there was no way of contacting her directly.

Maybe if she told Cole everything and asked for his help…

But that would mean that he would once again be rescuing her from disaster, and she would be no closer to proving to her brothers that she could be an asset at Rossi Investigations.

Unless…As she began to swim towards shore, a plan took shape in her mind. When she stepped out of the water, she was careful not to look at Cole until she’d grabbed her jeans and T-shirt off the rock and hurriedly pulled them on. Only then did she meet his eyes. “I want to make a deal.”

Cole was silent as he studied her. “What kind of a deal?”

She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you everything I know about the theft of the Monet, but in return, you have to back off and let me handle the case.”

For a moment the only sound was the sweep of a wave as it hit the shore and the cry of a seagull. Cole’s eyes were hidden once more by mirrored sunglasses, but Pepper was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to read anything in them anyway.

“Why should I agree to that?”

“Because I’m asking you to. Look…” she raised her hands and dropped them, “it’s not either of our faults that we’re in competition for a partnership at Rossi Investigations. But you’ve got to admit that you have an advantage. Several, in fact. I’m perfectly aware that Matt and Luke gave me the job to make me feel at home and to humor me, and I know that my track record so far had been less than stellar. But I want them to take me seriously. Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” Cole said, surprising her. “They should take you seriously.”

His words brought a pleasure that warmed her. “Okay. Well, all I’m asking you to do is to give me a chance. How am I supposed to prove to my brothers that I’m an asset if you keep rushing in to rescue me all the time? I want you to back off and let me recover the Monet.”

Another wave swept into shore, then he finally answered.

“I’ll consider it. But I won’t agree to anything until you tell me what’s going on.”

Pepper let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. At least, he hadn’t said no. Yet. “This whole heist goes back to the Rossi curse.”

Cole’s brows shot up. “The Rossi curse?”

Pepper nodded. “The Rossis are doomed to be star-crossed when they fall in love. My dad and mom are one example, and Aunt Irene and Butch Castellano are another.”

“Your aunt and Butch Castellano?”

Pepper nodded. “They fell in love when they were teenagers, but my grandparents separated them by uprooting the family and moving to San Francisco. Then Butch made the separation long term by being sent to prison. The way Irene explains it, he took the blame for one of the higher-ups in the crime family. You have to swear not to tell anyone what I’m going to tell you next. Not even my father knows, and Irene swore me to secrecy. Do you promise?”

“Okay.”

Pepper moved closer and lowered her voice. “For forty years, he and Irene corresponded, and the plan was that they would get together when he was finally released from prison. She claims that he’s gone straight, and all the money he used to build this resort was earned legitimately.”

“She’s right,” Cole said. “I checked Butch Castellano out as soon as I’d learned you booked a flight here. He’s evidently a real whiz kid when it comes to playing the stock market.”

Pepper stared at him. Why should it surprise her? After all, she was talking to the man who could give James Bond a run for his money.

“What does all this have to do with the theft of the Monet?”

“I’m getting there,” Pepper promised. “When Butch was released from prison a year ago, he and Irene were supposed to get together and start the life they hadn’t been able to build forty years ago. But then about a month before his release, Butch backed out of their deal. She’s been after him for a year to change his mind, but he’s stubborn. His excuse is that he still isn’t good enough for her. Can you imagine that?”

But Cole didn’t seem to be paying attention. Where had his mind wandered?

COLE WAS IMAGINING QUITE a few things—and not all of them had to do with the Monet. The most vivid image flickering at the edge of his mind was making love to Pepper again in a special place he’d discovered when he’d been exploring the island earlier. It would guarantee more privacy than this stretch of beach.

“Well?” Pepper asked.