Mediterranean Men & Marriage. Raye Morgan

forward and began to nuzzle the crook of her neck. “Now about the lovemaking…” he murmured, and that was when she kick-started the Vespa and took off with a jerk that practically had him flying off into the jungle. He laughed, she bit her lip and bent forward. She would be a speed racer if that was what it took to get him to stop teasing her.

      But once they were out on the main road, she pulled over and turned off the engine, remembering that she hadn’t called Gigi to warn her of their impending visit. Pulling out her cell, she poked in the number and hoped for the best. Phone service was hit-or-miss on the islands. Luckily, she got a connection.

      “Hello?” a deep but very feminine voice answered.

      “Hi, Gigi. It’s Shayna.”

      “Hi, doll. What’s up?”

      She glanced at where Marco was pacing along the side of the road near the Vespa, listening in on every word. “Remember Marco Smith?”

      “Of course I remember Marco Smith. Delightful man. Knew his sailing. I’ll tell you this—he taught me a few tricks when we went out on the water.”

      “No kidding.” She fought back the inevitable jealous pangs that threatened to reassert themselves after hearing that little boast. “Well, he’s back.”

      “Wonderful. Bring him by.”

      “I’d like to. Right now, in fact. But I must warn you. He’s not Marco Smith anymore.”

      “You don’t say.” She laughed. “Since I can’t imagine a man that masculine having a sex change, what’s the deal?”

      Shayna gave a spurt of laughter she couldn’t contain after that image flashed into her mind. “No, it’s not a sex change,” she assured the older woman, laughing again when she saw the look of horror on Marco’s face. “Just a change of identity. You see, his real name is Marco DiSanto.”

      “No! The yacht designer?”

      “That’s the one.”

      She laughed again. “I should have known. Why didn’t I think of that at the time? I knew he was some sort of professional. He just knew too much. But somehow I didn’t connect the name. Hah! Get that little rascal over here so I can give him a piece of my mind, will you?”

      “Uh, one more thing, Gigi. He’s got amnesia.”

      “What?”

      She flashed a questioning look Marco’s way and he shrugged his permission for her to go into it.

      “He doesn’t remember a thing about his previous visit here. So be kind.”

      “Kind? I’ll shake some sense into him, more likely. Amnesia indeed!”

      Shayna laughed. He could use a little shaking, she was thinking. “We’ll be there in minutes.”

      “Good.”

      She clicked off and grinned at Marco, still gnashing his teeth over the sex change reference. “Come on,” she said cheerfully.

      “Let’s go see Gigi.”

      Chapter Seven

      HE CLIMBED BACK ABOARD, being careful to stay away from her neck this time, and asked, “So tell me about this woman you’re taking me to.”

      “Gigi knows sailing. You spent a lot of time with her when you were here before.”

      Funny that she could mention that so calmly now. At the time, she’d been jealous. It had seemed that every time she had to work, he would suddenly be off with Gigi, testing out her new yacht in the open waters. She’d never been invited along and she’d just assumed that Gigi, a tall, beautiful older woman, was the draw. It was only later that she realized there really had been another motivation at work—the opportunity for sailing. He’d been working on ideas of his own.

      Gigi had a huge estate right along the waterfront. They rode down the long driveway, rimmed with tall coconut palms, and stopped before a huge white mansion that looked like something from the nineteenth century, wraparound porch and all.

      Before they had time to disentangle themselves from the scooter, a long, lanky woman walked out in a bright red bikini, accented by huge dark glasses and one of the flimsiest cover-ups she’d ever seen. Shayna suppressed a grin. Despite everything, including her periodic fits of jealousy, she liked Gigi. Men tended to react with quick interest when they first met her, not realizing that her lack of modesty showcased a woman who was just natural and unaffected and totally unconscious of how she came across to others. She wore that dangerous swimsuit for comfort, nothing more, and she was slightly built and sinewy enough to get away with it. She didn’t have a provocative bone in her body. This was Gigi and she meant no harm to anyone.

      Stalking toward them like a hunter with a blunderbuss, she ripped off her dark glasses and stared penetratingly into Marco’s eyes. “So you don’t remember me, huh?” she accused.

      “I’m sorry,” he said with a friendly grin. He obviously liked her on sight. “And you have a very memorable face, so it’s not that.”

      “Memorable?” That got her to straighten, her green eyes narrowing. “In what way?”

      “It’s lovely,” he said quickly. “Really beautiful.”

      Gigi shrugged her unconcern. “Of course.” She reached out a hand to help him off the scooter. “Come on down to my dock. You’ll remember everything once you see the True Yar again.”

      Marco joined her willingly, glancing back at Shayna with a rueful shrug. “Maybe that will work. Let’s take a look.”

      The yacht was gorgeous. As he walked down the boardwalk to the pier, he filled his senses with it, with the sight of it, the smell of the sea, the sound of the water. It suddenly occurred to him that he looked at women the same way he looked at beautiful sailing ships. No, he had to correct that. Lately he was looking at Shayna the way he looked at beautiful sailing ships, and other women the way he looked at ordinary sailing ships. She was special. There was no denying it.

      Once aboard, he ran his hands over the wood and shook his head. “Wonderful ship,” he said reverently. “Where do you get men to crew her?”

      Gigi’s smile was radiant. “My estate workers are part-time crew. I hire them for their sailing abilities and then teach them how to garden and paint and all the rest.”

      He was impressed. “Good plan.” He noticed the sails as they flapped in the wind. “Did I go out on her with you?”

      Gigi nodded. “I took you out into deep water for a half-day trip. Twice.”

      He nodded, knowing he wouldn’t have passed that up for anything. “Was I working on designs?”

      “Oh, yeah. You were sketching things and jotting down numbers the whole time. Doing measurements with your wind and weather instruments and using mine and jotting things down constantly.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I didn’t figure out who you were at the time.”

      He frowned, wondering why it had been easy for him to let Gigi in on what he did with his life while he’d obviously felt he had to hide that information from Shayna. Strange. He just didn’t get that at all.

      He filled her in on the missing plans, about which she claimed to know nothing. She had come in to see him off that last day, but just for a moment, and she hadn’t noticed anything about his portfolio. They went over the times they’d been together and tried to analyze what could have happened, but all their noodling didn’t get them anywhere.

      Finally the housekeeper brought them out iced tea and sandwiches and as they ate, Gigi went on about her wonderful husband, Jimmy, who had brought her here to the islands ten years before.

      “Where is he?” Marco asked guilelessly.

      She waved a hand in the air as though that were an inconsequential