To Catch a Groom. Rebecca Winters

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