* * *
So this was Mirraccino.
Grayson Landers adjusted his dark sunglasses. He strolled down the sidewalk of Bellacitta, admiring how the historical architecture with its distinctive ornate appearance was butted up against more modern buildings with their smooth and seamless style. And what he liked even more was that no one on this crowded sidewalk seemed to notice him much less recognize him as...what did the tabloids dub him? Oh, yes, the slippery fat cat.
Of course, they weren’t entirely off the mark with that name. A frown pulled at his lips. He jerked his thoughts to a halt. He refused to get lost on that dark, miserable path into the past.
He scratched at the scruff on his face. It itched and he longed to shave it off, but he really didn’t want to be recognized. He didn’t want the questions to begin again. The minor irritation of a short beard and mustache was worth his anonymity. Here in sunny Mirraccino he could just be plain old Grayson Landers.
In fact, in less than a half hour, he had a meeting for a potential business deal—a chance to expand his gaming cafés that were all the rage in the United States. Now, it was time to expand into the Mediterranean region.
And Mirraccino offered some perks that had him inclined to give it a closer look. He couldn’t imagine that it’d be hard to attract new employees to the sunny island. This island nation was large enough to offer them a choice between city life or a more rural existence. And there was plenty of room on the South Shore for a sizable facility.
His board would love the revenue growth from the international venture. Adding Mirraccino as the hub would give them diversification. It could be the beginning of great things.
“Stop! Thief!” screamed a female above the murmur of voices.
The next thing Grayson knew a young lanky guy bumped into him as he ran up the walk. Grayson reached out, grabbing him as he passed.
The kid yanked, trying to escape the solid hold Grayson had on his upper arm. Between his grip on him and the fact that Grayson had almost a foot on the guy and at least thirty pounds, the kid wasn’t going anywhere.
“Thief! Stop him!” again came the female voice and it was growing closer.
Could this guy be the person in question? Grayson gave the teenager a quick once-over. “I’m guessing that’s not yours.” Grayson gestured to the purse in the kid’s hand.
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s not exactly your color.” The purse was brown with pink trim and a pink strap.
The guy continued to struggle, obviously not smart enough to realize that he wasn’t going anywhere until the cops showed up. “Let me go!”
Grayson narrowed his gaze on the guy. “If you don’t stand still, you won’t like what I do next.”
“Dude, you don’t understand.” The kid glanced over his shoulder. “They’re after me.”
“Probably because you stole,” Grayson snatched the purse while the guy wasn’t paying attention, “this.”
The kid with a few scrawny hairs on his chin turned to him. “Hey, give that back.” He glanced over his shoulder again as a crowd formed around them. “Never mind. You keep it. Just let me go.”
“I’ll keep it and you.”
“I called the cops,” someone in the crowd called out.
Inwardly, Grayson cringed. The very last thing he wanted to do now was deal with more cops. A little more than a year ago, he’d answered enough questions to last him a lifetime. He was really tempted to let the kid get away and then Grayson could quietly slip into the thickening crowd.
Before he could make up his mind whether to do the right thing for some stranger or protect himself from yet another interrogation, the whoop-whoop of a police car blasted into the air. Then there was the slamming of a car door.
The suspect in Grayson’s hold fought for his freedom with amazing force for someone so slight. The punch that landed in Grayson’s gut made him grunt. Anger pumped in his veins. No matter what it cost him personally, this guy needed to learn a lesson.
The crowd parted, allowing the police officer to make his way over to them. Thankfully the officer immediately took custody of the feisty young man and restrained him.
“Move aside.” A deep gruff voice shouted. “Let the lady pass.”
Grayson glanced up to find the most beautiful young woman standing at the edge of the crowd. Immediately he could see that there was something special about her. Maybe it was her big brown eyes. Or perhaps it was the way her long flowing dark brown hair framed her face. Whatever it was, she was definitely a looker.
It was only then that Grayson noticed the big burly man at her side. Her boyfriend? Most likely. The stab of disappointment assailed him.
Not that he was interested in starting anything romantic. He’d learned his lesson about affairs of the heart—they made you do things you wouldn’t normally do and in the end, you got your heart broken, or in his case ripped from his chest. No, he was better on his own.
He was about to turn away when he realized the young woman looked familiar. And then it came to him. She was Lady Annabelle DiSalvo—the very woman he was here to meet with.
The police officer turned to the crowd. “There’s nothing here to see. Everyone, please, move on.”
Lady DiSalvo didn’t move. Was she that fascinated? Or could she be the victim in this case?
This was not the way he’d planned for their relationship to start—their business relationship that was. And then her gaze moved to him. He waited, wondering if she recognized him. Nothing appeared to register in her eyes. And then she turned to talk to the man at her side.
A camera flash momentarily blinded Grayson.
Seriously? Could this day get any worse?
* * *
Where is it?
It has to be here.
Annabelle craned her neck. Her gaze frantically searched for her purse. Oh, please, let this be the right person. Let him still have my purse. And then she realized that during the foot chase he could have ditched it anywhere along the way. Her elation waned.
Her gaze latched on to the tall, dark and sexy man standing in the center of the scene. She’d sensed him staring at her earlier. But with those dark sunglasses, she couldn’t make out his eyes. He was tall with an athletic build. Her gaze took in the heavy layer of scruff trailing down his jaw, and she couldn’t help wondering what he’d look like without it. The thought intrigued her, but right now she had more pressing matters on her mind.
She was about to glance away when she noticed that he was holding her purse. Her gut said he wasn’t the thief. The young man next to him giving the policeman a hard time was wearing a dark ball cap. That had to be the culprit. The kid had the right build as well as a smart mouth.
“Hey you! That’s my purse!” Annabelle called out, hoping the stranger would hear her. “I need it back.”
A reporter positioned himself between them. The man with her purse began backing away and turning his face away from the camera. What was up with that?
She had to get to the man with her purse. And it’d probably go better if she didn’t have Berto in tow. Even though she knew he was a gentle giant, strangers found his mammoth size and quiet ways a bit off-putting.
While Berto glanced over the crowd for a new threat, she quietly slipped away. She threaded her way through the lingering crowd. There was a lot of pardon me and excuse me. But finally she made her way over to the man with her purse in his hand just as the officer was escorting the thief to the police car.
Annabelle had to crane her neck to gaze into the man’s face.