aren’t we?’
His hands settled on her waist and drew her closer. ‘Two is good. Forget I mentioned it. I’m just an old-fashioned kind of guy about some things. It’ll keep,’ he reassured her, just before pressing a scintillating kiss on her lips.
It was over much too soon for Sam, who sighed when he released her to go in search of his briefcase. Still, what he had said gave her a warm feeling. There really was only one reason for an old-fashioned kind of man to want to meet a woman’s parents: to show his intentions were honourable. She smiled to herself. There was nothing she wanted more than to marry Ransom Shaw and spend the rest of their lives together. Maybe she would take him home soon after all.
‘What are you dreaming about?’ Ransom asked laughingly, jerking her out of her reverie, and Sam felt colour wash into her cheeks.
She could hardly tell him that she was thinking wistfully of the idea that he might be going to propose. ‘Oh, just that you’re one heck of a kisser!’ she retorted lightly, gathering up the tiny handbag she had brought with her last night. ‘Did you get a lot of practice?’
Grey eyes glittered. ‘It only feels this good because you’re kissing the right person.’
‘And you know this because…?’ she prompted and he laughed huskily.
‘OK, OK. I know it because I’ve kissed a lot of wrong ones. Happy now?’
She laughed as her inner happiness overflowed. ‘Ecstatically happy. I go around with a permanent grin on my face these days. People will begin to think I’m crazy.’
‘Just tell them you’re crazy about me. That will explain everything.’
As they left the flat Sam silently agreed that it certainly would.
The rest of the day was boringly normal. After Ransom dropped her off, Sam changed into her work clothes, rang the office to check the jobs she had to do, then drove herself to her first appointment. From that moment she barely stopped to breathe, so it was a surprise to glance at her watch and see how late it was. So she abandoned the idea of going home to change, and instead drove directly to her parents’ house.
She knew something was wrong the instant she walked inside the front door. Usually her family would be gathered round the large dining table, noisily passing on their bits and pieces of news. This time, however, her brothers and sisters were in the sitting room, talking in hushed voices. They all glanced up when she entered, and Sam could see there were notable absences. The other halves and their children were missing. Something unheard of for family night.
‘Where is everybody?’ she asked, and all at once her sisters began sobbing whilst her brothers looked grim. ‘What’s going on?’ she added, dropping her things in the nearest chair.
Her eldest brother Tom had clearly been appointed spokesman. ‘We’ve been waiting for you to get here. Mum and Dad are in the kitchen. They’ll tell you everything.’
Sam frowned. ‘Why can’t you tell me? And where’s Tony?’ she added, having realised her second-eldest brother was missing too.
‘Go see the parents, Sam. You should hear it from them,’ Tom insisted, and, feeling as if a lump of lead had settled in her stomach, Sam headed for the kitchen.
Her parents were seated at the kitchen table. Her mother had clearly been crying, and was tearing a tissue to shreds in silent anguish. Her father, by contrast, was silent, but his complexion was so pale he looked ill. They, too, looked up when she walked in, but when neither rose to greet her she knew the situation was serious.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she asked with a sick feeling of dread growing inside her.
Her mother stifled a sob behind the mutilated tissue and rose to her feet, walking to the sink and gripping the edge till her knuckles grew white. Sam looked from one to the other, seeking answers. Finally her father swallowed hard and turned to her.
‘Sit down, Sam. We’ve got a problem. A very serious one,’ he admitted in a broken voice, and Sam sat down opposite him, pressing a hand over his as they lay on the tabletop.
‘What kind of problem? Has Tony done something?’ Her brother was the wild one of the family. Trouble was his middle name. Over the years he had given his parents more grief than the rest of them put together.
The question produced a wail of anguish from her mother, who instantly stifled it behind both hands.
Her father took a deep breath before revealing the truth. ‘Your brother Tony has been caught stealing.’
Sam’s heart plummeted. ‘What was he stealing?’ she asked uneasily, though she had a good idea. Tony was a gambler—an unlucky one.
As if he read her mind, her father nodded. ‘Money. A very great deal of money.’
‘Can we pay it back?’ Sam queried immediately. They had done it before. Surely they could do it again.
‘Would that we could, but it’s too much this time. Even if I sold the house and the business, it wouldn’t come close to enough. How can we find this kind of money? Tony will go to prison and the scandal will kill your mother and ruin the business,’ her father declared in despair.
‘Is there nothing we can do?’ she asked, appalled to see her father look so anguished. ‘Who does he owe it to?’
Her mother spun round from the sink. ‘Don’t tell her. You can’t tell her!’
Sam’s gaze flickered from one to the other. ‘Why not?’
‘Because I know what you’ll do, and I won’t let you! Why should you have to pay for what Tony has done?’ her mother declared angrily, and Sam’s blood ran cold.
‘Who did he take the money from, Dad?’ she insisted tensely. ‘You might as well tell me. You will in the end.’
Her parents exchanged a look fraught with helplessness. Finally, though, her mother nodded and her father revealed the final twist in the tale.
‘The Grimaldis.’
Sam caught her breath, for to say the name was to say all. The Grimaldis were seriously rich, with fingers in many pies. They had helped her father set up his business many years ago, and at his request had employed Tony in their wine import/export business—and he had paid them back by stealing money to cover his gambling debts. This time he had screwed up big-time. A bubble of anger surged inside her at the thought that he could do this to his family.
She shot to her feet. ‘Where’s Tony hiding? I’m going to kill him for this!’ she cried furiously.
Her father caught her hand. ‘Sit down, Sam. Tony is at the Grimaldi house. Nothing has been decided yet.’
Sam subsided, frowning her confusion. ‘What is he doing there? Have the police been called in?’
It took a while for her father to summon the right words, and when he spoke his voice was scratchy. ‘Not yet, and perhaps never. You see, Sam, the…problem can be made to vanish without trace, but there is a condition,’ he said, keeping his eyes on his clenched fists. ‘Leno Grimaldi will replace the money from his personal account…providing you agree to marry him.’
