When She Was Bad...

THE MOMENT COLE reached her, every coherent thought emptied from his mind. He caught her scent—something he would always associate with the island and with the time they’d spent together. He’d thought he’d had a plan. He’d get away while she was involved with her aunt. Then back in San Francisco, he’d approach her again and propose a new deal. But he hadn’t been able to leave her. He never wanted to leave her. He curled his hands into fists to keep them from reaching out to her.

“I thought you’d left,” she said.

“I changed my mind. I promised you it would be your case. That was our deal. You should be the one to take the Monet back.”

“You came back because of our deal?”

“Yes, I—”

She cut him off, saying, “Seems to me you already broke our deal when you burst into that room with Butch. Irene and I were handling it.”

His eyes narrowed and he felt a surprising surge of anger. “I won’t apologize for doing that. Do you have any idea what it was like for me to wait on that balcony while that psychopath was pointing a gun at your head?” All the emotions that he’d had to shove down during those endless minutes erupted. “All I had was a revolver, and those damn shutters were in the way. It seemed like hours went by, and all I could think of was it was my fault. You wouldn’t have been in that position if I hadn’t proposed that damn twenty-four-hour deal. I’ll regret that for as long as I live.”

“You regret it?” She poked a finger into his chest. “You regret our deal?”

“Yes!” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Dammit, I love you! I never should have agreed to any part of it. And it’s not going to end. Not in twenty-four hours. Not in—!”

The sudden realization that he was shaking her made him stop, and he abruptly set her away from him.

For a moment neither of them said a word. He was shocked at his behavior, shocked at what had come out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure what his next move should be. Even worse, she was looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. He felt a little like he was a smear on a microscope slide.

“Well,” she finally said reasonably. “You’re scared.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Me, too,” she said. “But I know that’s not as big a news flash since I live with fear pretty much on a twenty-four-seven basis.” She paused for a moment to draw in a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

He stared at her, but the words were already sinking in. His mind might still be trying to absorb it, but his heart had softened and swelled.

“Pepper.” He reached for her then and pulled her to him. “That is scary.”

“Yeah.” She drew in another deep breath. “And there’s more. I want a new deal.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, and I want more than the twenty-four hours we’ve had here.”

“So do I.”

“Good.” She swallowed. “I figure we’ll need it. I’ve got the Rossi curse to contend with, and we’re as different as night and day, and we’ll probably always be in competition at Rossi Investigations. So we’re going to need a lot of time.”

He drew back and looked down at her. “Yes, I can see that. How much time do you figure we’ll need?”

“Quite a bit. I don’t have any experience in long-term relationships.”

“I’m a little short on that kind of experience myself.”

She nodded. “One thing in our favor is that we both like to learn.”

The gleam of humor that had come into her eyes had his lips curving. “We’ll just have to give each other lessons.” Taking her hands, he began to walk toward the gardens at the back of Butch’s house. “We could start right now.”

“Of course, you’re a quick study. You’ll probably get the hang of it right away. But I’m a slow learner.”

“Thank God,” he said as he drew her to a secluded part of the garden.

“Good thing you’re patient,” she said as they reached a spot that was out of sight of the house. The moment he stopped, she began to unbutton his shirt.

“As a saint,” he promised as he pulled her T-shirt off. Then he enfolded her in his arms.

“Say it again,” she said. “And this time, don’t shout it.”

“I love you.”

She rose to her toes and brushed her lips against his. “I love you, too.” Then with a laugh, she glanced at her watch. “But I don’t think patience is what’s called for right now. We only have fifteen minutes left of our first twenty-four hours together.”

They were both laughing as Cole drew her to the ground.

Epilogue

One month later…

“I’M TOO OLD TO GET MARRIED.” Irene frowned at her image in the mirror. “A woman my age should have more sense.”

Pepper tugged on the hem of the antique lace jacket her aunt was wearing. “You’re not too old.” She knew enough about panic attacks to recognize one when she saw one, and she had to nip this one before it grew.

With a snort, Irene whirled away from the mirror and began to pace. “I should know better.”

Through the glass wall, Pepper could see that the guests had all been seated in rows of chairs around the gazebo. Many of Irene’s friends and co-workers had flown in from San Francisco, excited to be invited to a destination wedding. Irene was going to continue her TV show. She and Butch would visit San Francisco two months each year so that she could film the episodes. Many of the hotel staff members had also come to the wedding: Gari and Reynaldo, Marlene and Henry, and Tommy the concierge. Pepper had even spotted Tony, the poor man that Butch had sent to steal the Monet.

And they’d all been waiting patiently for almost ten minutes.

Flowers were everywhere, all over the gazebo and along the path the bride should have walked down a full five minutes ago. The small band was starting on their fourth love song, “I Love You Truly.”

The bride-to-be continued to pace. To the right of the gazebo, Pepper could see Butch pacing, with Cole and her father nearby. Now and then, Butch would shoot a glance at the house. Behind him, she could just make out her two brothers and H.

Pepper turned her attention back to Irene and sent up a short prayer that she could figure out the right thing to say. “What you have to remember is that you love Butch.”

Irene whirled on her. “What does that have to do with anything? I love him and he loves me. Why does that mean we have to get married? Why can’t we just go on as we are? Why mess with a good thing? That’s what I say.”

Pepper tried another tack. “Maybe after the wedding, things will be even better.”

“Hah! Fat chance of that with the Rossi curse hanging over your head.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. You and Butch spent all those years apart and now you’re together. I think you’ve broken the curse.”

Irene pointed a finger at her. “That’s exactly what Butch said when he talked me into agreeing to all this.”

“He was right.” Pepper could see Butch was now in a heated discussion with her father. Here and there, guests glanced curiously toward the house.

“Yeah, well, if Butch and I have broken the Rossi curse, then why aren’t you and Cole setting a date?” Irene asked. “If I’ve got to do this, then so do you.”

“Well, I—we’re—still getting to know each other.”

“And that’s going well?”

“Yes.” The truth was she and Cole hadn’t talked about anything like marriage. They’d just been busy with work and being together and enjoying each other. Cole was even teaching her to cook.

“Good. Then why screw it all up by getting married? That’s what I say.”

Footsteps pounded on the veranda steps, and a moment later Butch burst into the room followed by Cole.

“Oh, shit,” Irene muttered.

“What the hell is going on?” Butch asked.

Irene advanced on him pointing a finger. “You shouldn’t be here. The groom shouldn’t see the bride before the wedding. It’s against the rules.”

“I couldn’t stop him,” Cole murmured softly as he took Pepper’s hand.

“I’m not having any luck with her either,” she whispered.

Butch fisted his hands on his hips. “Do I look like a man who cares about the rules? I want to know why you’re still in here.”

“I’m in here because I don’t want to do anything to ruin things between us, Butch Castellano.” Taking his arm, Irene dragged him across the room and out onto the patio. “Look at all those people out there. You see the ones who are crying?”

“So? A few people are crying. People cry at weddings.”

“Exactly.” Irene spoke in a triumphant tone. “There has to be a reason for that.”

Butch turned to study her for a minute. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Irene’s chin lifted. “I’m not scared. I’m just trying to be smart.”