Free Her Italian Millionaire by Carol Grace Page A

of their kiss. He wished he could forget as easily.
    “You walked. Not very well, not very steadily, but you walked all the way back to the hotel.”
    “And then?”
    “And then you went to bed.”
    She nodded slowly. “How do you know?”
    “Because I carried you up the stairs and dumped you on your bed. When I left, you were sound asleep.”
    Her sunglasses slid down her nose and she stared at him with bloodshot eyes. “I don't know what to say,” she said.
    “What about ' grazie, molto gentile ?'“
    “ Molto gentile?” she asked, “or molto suspicioso?”
    “What do you mean?” he asked, smothering a smile. At least she tried to speak Italian. Most tourists didn't. But then, she wasn't most tourists.
    “What I mean is that I don't know you. You follow me everywhere and I don't know why. You say you're a tour guide, but why aren't you out guiding someone, then? What do you want with me?”
    “Just to help you.” He gave her a long, steady look. Last night I wanted to make love to you. Today I want to catch you with one of the world's most spectacular diamonds and send you back to America in the custody of international agents.
    But a stab of guilt hit him between the ribs as he looked into her bleary eyes. What if she really was an innocent tourist? What if all the intelligence they'd gathered was incorrect? The agency had made mistakes before.
    If she never met Giovanni, if she never handed over any stolen goods, he'd almost be sorry. This case was getting even more interesting. Marco loved his job and he loved a challenge. It was his personal life that was less than exciting. Women had left him feeling numb. Ever since he'd met Ana Maria yesterday, he'd felt anything but numb. His senses had come alive along with his libido. This woman, this case - they were both one hell of a challenge. He wouldn't jump to any conclusions, not yet.
    “I might remind you,” he continued, “that you don't speak Italian and you don't understand our customs. You are a stranger in a strange land. You cried three times, you drank a little too much wine, and you got lost on the way home. It has been my pleasure to help rescue you from these incidents, from embarrassment. And yet...and yet, I have not asked you for one lira, nor have I heard one word of thanks from you even after I took you to a concert, had your fortune told, and got you safely back to your hotel. What more do you want?” he demanded with an edge to his voice. It was time to put her on the defensive, and see how tough she was.
    “I don't want anything, except to be left alone,” she said, standing tall and reaching for the handle of her suitcase. “I know you meant well, but I came to Italy to be on my own. Yes, maybe I caused a scene, and I got lost, and had a little too much to drink, but I didn't break any laws and I didn't need to be rescued. And I plan to return your handkerchiefs to you as soon as I wash them. No, I don't speak Italian yet, but I'm learning. The only way I can learn is to practice. And I will find my way around by myself. So, molto grazie , Marco, and arrivederci .”
    With her chin in the air, Anne Marie stalked off without a backward glance. She didn't dare look back or it would spoil the effect altogether. She didn't hear footsteps behind her as she dragged her suitcase behind her out of the empty cafe and down the quiet street, so probably he'd gotten the message. Probably he was still sitting at the cafe, watching her walk away, surprised and pissed off by her angry words and her ungrateful attitude. And wondering how on earth she planned to return his handkerchiefs if she was never going to see him again.
     Probably he thought he was irresistible and he’d never been turned down before. Probably he thought of her as some helpless tourist eager to hop into bed and have an affair with an Italian man. If not Giovanni, then Marco. Or both. Well, she wasn't. Yes, he made shivers go up her spine when he touched her and he made her