of the crowd. Immediately he could see that there was something special about her. Maybe it was her big brown eyes. Or perhaps it was the way her long flowing dark brown hair framed her face. Whatever it was, she was definitely a looker.
It was only then that Grayson noticed the big burly man at her side. Her boyfriend? Most likely. The stab of disappointment assailed him.
Not that he was interested in starting anything romantic. He’d learned his lesson about affairs of the heart—they made you do things you wouldn’t normally do and in the end, you got your heart broken, or in his case ripped from his chest. No, he was better on his own.
He was about to turn away when he realized the young woman looked familiar. And then it came to him. She was Lady Annabelle DiSalvo—the very woman he was here to meet with.
The police officer turned to the crowd. “There’s nothing here to see. Everyone, please, move on.”
Lady DiSalvo didn’t move. Was she that fascinated? Or could she be the victim in this case?
This was not the way he’d planned for their relationship to start—their business relationship that was. And then her gaze moved to him. He waited, wondering if she recognized him. Nothing appeared to register in her eyes. And then she turned to talk to the man at her side.
A camera flash momentarily blinded Grayson.
Seriously? Could this day get any worse?
* * *
Where is it?
It has to be here.
Annabelle craned her neck. Her gaze frantically searched for her purse. Oh, please, let this be the right person. Let him still have my purse. And then she realized that during the foot chase he could have ditched it anywhere along the way. Her elation waned.
Her gaze latched on to the tall, dark and sexy man standing in the center of the scene. She’d sensed him staring at her earlier. But with those dark sunglasses, she couldn’t make out his eyes. He was tall with an athletic build. Her gaze took in the heavy layer of scruff trailing down his jaw, and she couldn’t help wondering what he’d look like without it. The thought intrigued her, but right now she had more pressing matters on her mind.
She was about to glance away when she noticed that he was holding her purse. Her gut said he wasn’t the thief. The young man next to him giving the policeman a hard time was wearing a dark ball cap. That had to be the culprit. The kid had the right build as well as a smart mouth.
“Hey you! That’s my purse!” Annabelle called out, hoping the stranger would hear her. “I need it back.”
A reporter positioned himself between them. The man with her purse began backing away and turning his face away from the camera. What was up with that?
She had to get to the man with her purse. And it’d probably go better if she didn’t have Berto in tow. Even though she knew he was a gentle giant, strangers found his mammoth size and quiet ways a bit off-putting.
While Berto glanced over the crowd for a new threat, she quietly slipped away. She threaded her way through the lingering crowd. There was a lot of pardon me and excuse me. But finally she made her way over to the man with her purse in his hand just as the officer was escorting the thief to the police car.
Annabelle had to crane her neck to gaze into the man’s face.
“Thank you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever see my purse again. You’re quite a hero.”
The man looked uncomfortable with her praise. “I’m glad I could help.”
“Well, I really appreciate it.”
“No big deal.”
It was a huge deal, but she didn’t want to get into any of that right now. “If you’ll just give me my purse, I’ll be going.”
Even standing this close to the man, she couldn’t make out his eyes through the large, dark sunglasses. His brows rose in surprise, but he didn’t make any motion to give it back.
“Is there a problem?”
“I can’t hand it over.” The man’s voice was deep and smooth like a fine gourmet coffee.
He couldn’t be serious. She pressed her hands to her hips. “I don’t think you understand. That’s my purse. He,” she gestured to the thief, who was struggling with the police officer, “stole it from me.”
“And it’s evidence. You’ll have to take it up with the police.”
Really? He was going to be a stickler for the law. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I have a meeting—”
“I have to give this to the police. I’m sorry.” There was a finality to his tone.
What was it with this day? First, there was the scene with her father. Then she missed her flight. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d nearly lost her mother’s journal. And now, this man refused to return her belongings.
Maybe she just needed to take a different approach. “If it’s a reward you want, I’ll need my purse back in order to do that.”
The man frowned. “I don’t need your money.”
This couldn’t be happening. There had to be something she could say to change his mind before the policeman turned his attention their way. At last, she decided to do something that she’d never done before. She was about to play the royalty card. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures. And right now, she was most definitely desperate.
But then she had a thought. “If I don’t file charges, it’s not evidence.”
“You’ll have to take it up with the officer.”
Seriously. Why was the man so stubborn?
“Do you know who I am?”
Before the man could respond, the policeman strode over to them. “I’ll be taking that.”
The mystery man readily handed over her purse. She glared at him, but she didn’t have time to say anything. Her focus needed to remain on getting the journal back.
“That’s my purse. I need it back,” Annabelle pleaded with the officer. “All of my important things are in there.”
“Sorry, miss. Afraid it’s evidence now.” When the young officer glanced at her, the color drained from his face. “Lady Annabelle, I didn’t know it was you. I... I’m sorry.”
She smiled hoping to put him at ease. “It’s all right. You’re just doing your duty. As for my purse, could I have it back now?”
Color rose in the officer’s face. His gaze lowered to the purse in his hand. “The thing is, ma’am, regulations say I have to turn this in as evidence. My captain is always telling us to follow the regs. But seeing as it’s you, I guess I could make an exception—”
“No.” The word was out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying—or maybe she did realize
