The Fiancée Caper. Maureen Child

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even think about moving, Gianni straddled her hips, pinning her to the wide mattress.

      “Get off of me!” Her voice was loud and commanding and clearly American.

      Her eyes fired green ice at him and maybe that tone of hers would have worked on someone less motivated. But he wasn’t giving an inch. Not until he had some answers.

      “You’re not going anywhere. Not just yet anyway,” he told her, dropping his hands onto her shoulders when she started to buck and writhe in an effort to roll him off of her. At the same time, she lifted one knee and slammed it into his back.

      “That’s enough of that,” he ordered.

      “Stop me,” she challenged, fighting his grip on her shoulders even as she continued to twist beneath him.

      “Don’t think I will,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “In fact, I’m actually enjoying all of the writhing you’re doing.”

      Well, that did it. As if he’d tossed a bucket of ice water on her, she went completely still. And a good job it was, he told himself, since his body was hard and getting harder. It wasn’t every day he had a gorgeous stranger beneath him and apparently, his groin was proud to show appreciation for the moment.

      Her eyes were still flashing fury. Her breathing was fast and had her high, full breasts rising and falling in a temptation of movement that captured his complete attention. The red silk blouse she wore boasted tiny ivory buttons that were even now slipping free. Tempting, he mused, then forced his mind to focus more on the woman—intruder—than the delectable body beneath him.

      “Good,” he said. “Now that you’ve calmed down, you can tell me what you’re doing in my home.”

      “Get off of me, then we’ll talk,” she said through clenched teeth.

      Gianni laughed. “Do I actually look that stupid?” Shaking his head he asked again, “What are you doing here?”

      She huffed out a breath, thought for a moment, then tried for sultry as she said, “I was waiting for you. I thought we could...party.”

      Amused and intrigued, Gianni watched her face and could see the calculation in her eyes. “Did you?”

      It was a second or two before she grumbled something unintelligible and admitted, “Fine. No, I didn’t.”

      A shame, he thought wryly. Finding a woman under his bed was nearly as tempting as finding one in his bed. Especially when she looked like this woman. But lust aside, he needed to know how she had gotten into his flat and, more importantly, what the hell she was doing there.

      “If you’re not here for my company, then why are you here? What is it you’re after?”

      She didn’t speak, merely glared at him, which Gianni told himself, she wouldn’t be doing if she knew how that flash of passion in those green eyes of hers was affecting him. It had been some time since merely looking at a woman had his blood burning and his groin aching. But this one had something special. Perhaps it was the fierce expression on such a short and curvy body. Or perhaps it was just that he’d been too long without a woman.

      “Nothing to say then?” he asked. “Then let me explain for you. The only possible explanation for your presence here tonight is that you’re a thief. A lovely one to be sure,” he added, gaze sweeping across those full breasts before he continued. “But a thief all the same. If you think you will find me more forgiving than most victims of a break-in, I assure you I won’t be.”

      “I didn’t break—”

      He cut her off mainly because he sensed she wasn’t going to tell him the truth anyway. “I’m curious as to how you got into my flat and what you thought you were going to find. And, believe me when I say I will find these answers before you go anywhere, little thief.”

      Her mouth dropped open. Shaking her head, she choked out a short laugh and stared up at him in complete wonderment. “You’re the only thief in this room, Coretti.”

      “Ah,” he said, even more interested now. “You know me. So this is not a random burglary.”

      “It’s not a—”

      “You are definitely the most well-dressed burglar I have ever seen,” he acknowledged with another slow look over her body.

      Gritting her teeth, she said, “I’m not a burglar.”

      “Then you are a small-time thief come to me for lessons? If you know of me and my family, you should also know that we don’t take on apprentices and even if we did, let me assure you this is not the way to earn my admiration.” Amusement gone from his voice, he snapped out, “Who are you and why exactly are you here?”

      “I’m the woman with enough evidence to see your father sent to prison.”

      All right, Gianni thought coldly. Now she had his attention.

       Two

      The amused glint in his dark brown eyes disappeared in a flash. Marie took a breath and tried to get her heartbeat to stop racing. Not an easy thing to do now that her “plan” was shot. She hadn’t counted on him coming home early and catching her while she snooped. Hadn’t planned on him dragging her out from under his bed, then tossing her onto the mattress and taking a seat across her midsection, either. And, she was forced to admit that having his hard, oh-so muscular body pressing down on top of hers felt much better than it should have.

      He was taller than she’d thought he would be and boy he smelled good—a subtle blend of spice and man that made her want to take a long deep breath and hold on to it, just to keep that scent inside her. But she wasn’t here to be seduced or to allow her own hormones to take over and fan the fires that were flickering within.

      Because, she reminded herself, she’d already made that mistake once. She’d allowed a thief to distract her—and she wouldn’t do that again.

      Damn it. How had this all gone so wrong?

      The plan had been to confront him in her own time, in a place of her choosing so that she had the upper hand. Now, she was pretty much at his mercy. And judging by the hard light in his eyes, mercy was going to be in short supply.

      So, Marie did what she always did when she was the underdog. She jumped in and went on the offensive. “Get off of me and we’ll talk.”

      “You start talking and I’ll get off of you,” he countered.

      So much for that attempt. Moonlight poured through the wall of windows and slashed across his hard features like a silvery warning light. What should have been soft and romantic instead looked somehow ominous, throwing his eyes and the grim slash of his mouth into shadow.

      Marie took a breath—shallow though it was—and braced herself for the confrontation she’d been working toward for months. All of her careful plans had crumbled underneath her simply because he’d come home early for probably the first time in his entire life. If you thought about it, this was really all his fault.

      Her attitude slapped back into place at that thought and she shifted beneath him, shooting him an angry glare. “It’s hard

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