To Marry For Duty. Rebecca Winters

you. For this favor you’ll get a bonus in your next paycheck. Go ahead and send him back.”

      Piper’s heart thundered beneath the navy pullover she’d slipped on with her jeans earlier that morning. When she wasn’t traveling to meet with clients, she hibernated in her office to do her artwork away from people.

      She sat down at her desk, then stood up again, trying to decide how she would greet him. When she caught sight of his tall, striking physique in the doorway, she’d just sat down again which was a good thing. Her legs wouldn’t have supported her.

      “Well, well, well,” she declared with feigned nonchalance, taking the offensive. “If it isn’t the captain of the Piccione.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      “BUENOS dias, Señorita Piperre.”

      When Nic rolled the “r” that way, Piper felt it resonate through every particle of her body. No matter how hard she tried to harden herself against his potent male presence, she failed.

      “The last time I saw you, you were hiding in the bushes on your estate, waiting to spirit me away so Luc could do his worst to Olivia.”

      At the time she’d hoped Nic had forgotten about his mourning period and would do his worst to her. After all, he’d removed the mourning band for a short while on the Piccione. Piper had been dying for him to kiss her.

      Instead he’d led her to the family chapel with the priest in attendance. That’s where she’d found Greer and Max, in fact the whole Parma-Bourbon family, waiting to observe the imminent nuptials of the youngest Duchess triplet and the oldest son of the Duc de Falcon.

      Nic must have been remembering that night too. He flashed her what she and her sisters called his Castilian smile, a dazzling white masculine smile that was his unique signature.

      But as he’d once explained, Castilian was a misnomer since the Varano part of him was Italian, and the Pastrana side of him didn’t come from Castile. The Pastrana’s royal roots lay in that southern region of Spain known as Andalusia.

      Through Piper’s sisters she’d learned that the Robles family also claimed a royal connection through the Spanish House of Bourbon, but never gained the Pastrana’s prominence.

      “How come you’re slumming it in American waters? Has some urgent business brought you to the other side of the Atlantic?”

      He lifted his proud, aristocratic head and shot her an enigmatic glance. She thought he looked leaner, a little more drawn, yet he was more gorgeous than ever. Piper wasn’t the type to faint, but if she were, she’d be lying flat as a pancake on the floor of her office!

      “I’ve been in New York for the last few days because another piece of jewelry from the stolen collection showed up at Christie’s auction house. It turned out to be authentic.”

      “Don’t tell me the Duchesse pendant has been unearthed at last?”

      “No. A jeweled comb.”

      Piper had forgotten all about the collection. If she and her sisters hadn’t worn their own Duchesse pendants to Italy on their first trip, they would never have known about the museum theft of another pendant identical to theirs, or have become involved with the three cousins.

      She would never have met Nicolas de Pastrana.

      No matter that he’d crushed her heart, the thought of not knowing him was so incomprehensible, she shivered.

      Furious at her involuntary reaction to him she said, “If by any chance my sisters suggested you drop by here to persuade me to fly to Europe for a visit, you’ve wasted your precious time.”

      He stood with his legs slightly apart, his strong tanned hands clasped in front of him. “Your sisters have no idea I’m here.”

      She flashed him her arctic smile. “Since your period of mourning isn’t up until February, I’ll wager Nina’s family doesn’t know you’re here either.”

      Piper had purposely introduced his dead fiancée’s name to remind him of the way he’d rejected her advances to him that hot afternoon after Max’s wedding.

      When she’d tried to help him remove his tuxedo jacket and suggested they take a little nap in the grass by the old water wheel to cool off, he’d pushed her hands away.

      After mocking her because she didn’t know how to behave in polite society with a man wearing a mourning band, he’d said he would excuse it on the grounds that she was one of the notorious Duchess triplets.

      The hurt he’d inflicted would never go away. She would never forgive him.

      He must have been reading her mind because he removed his suit jacket with effortless male grace, drawing her attention to the breadth of his shoulders. There was no band on the outside of his dove gray shirtsleeve either.

      “As you can see, I’m no longer in mourning.”

      “Don’t tell me— You had other business in New York, so you removed your arm band early. It couldn’t be because you’ve decided you’re ready to lie down and take that nap with me before you fly back to Marbella, could it?” She eyed him narrowly. “In my neck of the woods, that’s called cheating. It’s something I don’t do.”

      Lines darkened Nic’s rugged features. Good. She’d hit a nerve, and she would go on pressing against it until she got rid of him.

      “I’ve come to ask an important favor of you,” his voice grated.

      “Really.” Flame licked her cheeks. “Does Nina’s sister Camilla know about this? I understand she’s waiting in the wings until next month when she expects to become your new fiancée.”

      A tiny nerve throbbed along the ridge of Nic’s taut patrician jaw. It had to frustrate him that nothing in his personal life was sacred now that his cousins were married to her sisters.

      “I’m here to talk about us.”

      “Us?” she exploded. “There is no us! I got engaged in Sydney and know enough about polite society to play around with my own fiancé and no one else.”

      A stunning stillness pervaded the atmosphere. Nic’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t believe you.”

      Her heart almost palpitated out of her chest. “What don’t you believe? That I have principles? Or that I’m an engaged woman now?”

      Enjoying this triumphant moment, she buzzed Don. It was a huge risk to take, but he knew all about her broken heart. She was depending on him to play along.

      “Don?”

      “Hi. I was just about to ask if you want to go to lunch at Alfie’s.”

      Don got A-plus for that opening.

      “I’d love it! First though, can you come in my office for a minute? We have a visitor from Spain, Nicolas de Pastrana, Greer’s and Olivia’s cousin. He’s here to ask me a favor. Since you and I got engaged in Sydney, I’d like the two of you to meet.”

      “I’ll be right there,” Don said without missing a heartbeat. Bless the man.

      The second her business partner breezed through the connecting door, Piper gravitated toward him and was given a loving hug. She looked up at him. “Honey? I was just telling Nic our news.”

      As she turned to Nic, she purposely exposed her left hand for him to view the ring. A thrill of alarm passed through her body to see his fierce expression, showing a hint of the Mediterranean fire that flowed through his Andalusian veins.

      “This is my fiancé, Don Jardine.”

      Nic nodded to Don, not making an effort to shake his hand. “Jardine—weren’t you once involved with Greer?”

      Piper reeled for a moment.

      “We dated.”

      At