famous for his liaison with Elizabeth Chudleigh, who claimed to be the Duchess of Kingston, but the Kingston titles became extinct on the duke’s death around 1733. He had no children. Hope that answers your question.
Indeed it did.
Max lifted his head and smiled at Lord Winthrope who smiled back.
So…these American women weren’t only audacious imposters, their impudence showed a certain shrewdness to pick an English title that had become extinct over two hundred years ago and pass it off as their own.
What kind of a game were they playing to come to Italy wearing pendants identical to the stolen one? Where did they get such an idea? Why would they do it?
“Much as I’d love to run to the room and change into my swimming suit, I’m too tired.”
“Jet lag’s caught up with me, too. Let’s go to bed. You coming, Greer?”
“In a minute—”
The magic of the balmy Genoese night held her in its thrall. She’d always dreamed of coming to Italy. Though ninety percent of their ancestry was English and Scotch-Irish, their father had favored their Italian-Austrian roots. As a result he’d infected Greer with that love.
“Okay. Just don’t make noise when you let yourself in.”
“I promise,” she said before their footsteps faded.
After several business meetings which might or might not produce a foothold in Europe, followed by a late dinner, they’d taken a walk to the San Giorgio church and visited the interior.
From there they’d strolled around the tropical gardens on the grounds of the Splendido, a former sixteenth-century monastery. They’d finally ended up at its outdoor pool overlooking Portofino harbor.
In Greer’s opinion the view was worth a king’s ransom. How their mother would have loved this flower-scented paradise.
There were quite a few guests climbing in and out of the water. Waiters moved around unobtrusively refilling champagne glasses. Every so often Greer caught snatches of conversation and laughter from beautiful men and women enjoying the elegant amenities of the privileged class.
As she stood next to a palm tree wearing her designer sundress in a stunning tangerine color, her attention was caught by a man doing laps with the speed and fluidity of a shark. A great black shark, if there were such a thing she mused fancifully.
Glimpses of a bronzed, well-toned male physique and jet-black hair kept her gaze riveted. Suddenly he levered himself from the water onto the tiled deck.
The shark had legs.
Strong, powerful legs that propelled his tall, black trunk-clad body past the admiring glances from women and the envious stares of men toward Greer.
His total disregard of the surroundings testified to his inbuilt radar system which had targeted its next victim. How easy her subconscious had made it for him by sending out the message that she wanted to see if all of him lived up to her image of the quintessential playboy.
All of him did…
From an aquiline face, whose Italian bones had been refined and molded down through the centuries, gleamed a pair of black eyes that resembled volcanoes erupting in the night sky. One intimate look from them beneath expressive black brows and she felt as if her body had come too close to the mesmerizing magma.
Burned alive would be the more accurate description.
The pulse in her throat throbbed so violently, she could feel it move the pendant she wore around her neck like a choker.
She watched him watching it. He’d taken the bait.
Piper would be especially pleased to find out her suggestion to wear the family heirloom had proved to be a winner their first night in Italy.
“I saw you walking on the grounds earlier, signorina.” His heavily accented English delivered in a deep masculine voice, vibrated to her insides. Its cadence sent a delicious tremor through her system even though the night was warm. “I hoped you would come to the pool.”
Of course he did.
“I noticed you, too,” she responded boldly, for once throwing her innate caution to the wind. “That’s why I didn’t go upstairs with my sisters.”
It was a lie. She hadn’t seen him. He was too much of a predator to have given himself away beforehand. Like his species, he’d lurked in the depths until it was time to make his attack.
“Swim with me.”
His ardent demand, whispered with a 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
