Mediterranean Men & Marriage: The Italian's Forgotten Baby / The Sicilian's Bride / Hired: The Italian's Bride

Marco turned to find himself talking to a beautiful young woman with huge, haunted eyes. She held a tray of appetizers and he took a stuffed mushroom automatically, even though it was the last thing he wanted.

“Hello,” he said, stammering slightly. He had no idea who this was. “Uh…nice to see you again.”

She smiled and offered him a cracker with a shrimp on it. “Here,” she said in a husky whisper. “Better fill up on these. The Kalua pig is nowhere near done. It’ll be hours before you’ll get any real food.”

“Oh. Of course.” He took the cracker and began a balancing act that included his drink.

She smiled, watching him, but made no move to help until the shrimp began to slide off the cracker. Finally, she reached out and caught it just before it hit the deck. Calmly and without a word, she popped it into his mouth, just as though that were the most natural thing in the world to do.

“Want another?” she asked.

He shook his head, trying to chew as fast as he could. “Why don’t you have one?” he suggested once his mouth was clear.

She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m a server.” But there was a sad, hungry expression in her eye and she said it so regretfully that he couldn’t help himself. He turned the tables on her, taking a shrimp from the tray and tucking it into her mouth before she could stop him.

“Oh!” she said, laughing, but she chewed and swallowed quickly, after a few surreptitious looks around to see who might be watching. “There’s dinner,” she said happily.

Marco grinned. She was adorable, but who the heck was she?

As she waved and strolled off to serve appetizers to the others, Shayna appeared at his elbow.

“So you’ve seen Leila,” she noted. “She’s working every single job she can come up with to keep those kids fed.”

“Leila!” Of course. Why hadn’t he realized it? “That’s who that was.”

“You didn’t know?” She gave him a look.

“No. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is.” Shayna felt her jaw tightening, stopped, and laughed at herself. That reaction was so typically female. Every time another woman got a compliment didn’t mean that she was suddenly in competition with you, she reminded herself. In many ways, that seemed like a holdover from her old life that she had to get rid of.

They strolled over toward the entertainment and watched the beautiful Tahitian dancers churning their hips. The action was fun and the music was wild, and everyone seemed to be having a heck of a time. But Marco wasn’t getting anywhere. He wanted to get back to the reason they were here.

“Is there anyone I should be talking to that I haven’t?” he asked Shayna, getting a little impatient with it all.

“Elmo,” she said. “He’s the one giving the party, after all.”

“Okay. And how is he connected? What might he have seen?”

She twisted her mouth, thinking back. “He took you out fishing one day while you were here before. You came back fairly inebriated but without any fish at all.” She fixed him with a schoolmarmish look. “But you seemed to have had a good time.”

“So I guess his boat was of the inboard motor variety?” Marco noted.

“Yes. All rigged up for deep sea fishing. But I had the impression you two mainly sat around drinking beer and telling each other stories about fishing glories of the past. Though I could be wrong.” She put her nose in the air, teasing him. “You never know.”

He wanted to kiss her when she teased him like that. But he had to keep his focus. “Lead me to him,” he said instead, feeling a bit regretful but doing what was necessary. “Let’s see what the man knows.”

Elmo was a big, gruff Danish bear of a man who’d come to the islands as a teenager and stayed for good. He’d done well as a home builder for the high end trade that had developed over the last ten years or so, wiping out his previous image as a beach bum. And he loved to give parties.

He remembered Marco fondly and there was a lot of backslapping and loud joking about beer and large fish that got away. But when Marco tried to pin him down on remembering anything about his portfolio, he drew a blank.

“I remember you jotting down information now and then,” he admitted. “But I never really paid much attention.”

Another dead end. Elmo was called away, and Marco found Leila at his side again with a new plate of appetizers.

“Pigs in blankets,” she whispered to him. “I bet they’re your favorites.”

They were. He took two.

“I hope Jilly and Eddie haven’t been driving you crazy,” she said before heading off. “I haven’t been home much in the last few days so I haven’t been able to keep as close an eye on them as I usually would.”

“They’re fine,” he said. “They’re beautiful children.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said, and seemed to mean it. “They’re so good, too. They’re home right now and Jilly is fixing them tacos for dinner.” She had a faraway look in her eyes, as though she wished she were there with them. “I hope this party doesn’t last too long,” she murmured, more to herself than to Marco.

There was a veil of secret sorrow about this woman and he couldn’t help but be intrigued. She looked so spunky, yet vulnerable, that it made him want to do something for her.

“Leila, I was sorry to hear about your husband.”

“Yes.” Her dark eyes flashed his way. “He disappeared out by Sangria Island.”

“No sign of him?”

She hesitated. “Well, they searched Sangria and those two little islands right close. Then I told them about the island where he used to go with his dad as a kid, Grigos, and they said they searched it, but…” She scrunched her face tightly for a second or two. “You know, I don’t think they searched enough. That’s why I’m trying to make some extra money so I can charter a boat and go out there and look for myself.”

Yes, she certainly did have spunk. He nodded approvingly.

“Hey, Leila, good for you. Even if you don’t find anything, you’ll feel better because you’ll be sure.”

She nodded. “You know, Mr. Smith—”

“Call me Marco.”

Her smile was a little shaky. “Okay. Marco.” She sighed, her gaze wandering nervously. “I know people have probably told you that Tony had a girlfriend and he might have jumped ship to…to go be with her,” she said, her voice breaking. “But that’s not true. Yes, he is very handsome, and yes, he has always had an eye for the ladies.” She turned her eyes back to meet his, and he could see that they were shimmering with unshed tears. “But what people don’t understand is, he loves me and he loves the kids, and there is no way he would leave us. Not ever.”

She gazed up into his face beseechingly, as though he could do something about this, and he was at a loss.

“I…I’m sure he’ll turn up,” he said unconvincingly.

She gave him a tight smile and turned her attention away as she melted into the crowd again. He watched her go, his heart breaking for her. He knew his answer hadn’t done anything to satisfy her or make her feel better in any way. He’d never felt more inadequate. If only he could think of something…

Evening turned into night. The sunset had come and gone. And suddenly, he remembered Eddie. He went looking for Shayna and finally found her near the koi pond.

Shayna had been mixing freely, talking to so many people that it took her aback to realize how many friends she’d made in the little less than a year she’d lived here. Everyone treated her like an old-timer. The cliques and backbiting she’d known in her milieu at home weren’t apparent here. She felt good about that. She felt a part of things. Best of all, she didn’t get the sense that she had to do something to excite the crowd and justify her existence as she’d felt for most of her life before she came here. People accepted her for who she was. No circus tricks.

Of course, things weren’t perfect. There was the occasional jealous woman who acted as if she had to protect her man from cheating bait such as Shayna. And there was the occasional lecherous man who thought he could talk his way into gaining a few sexual favors. But she’d learned how to deal with problem people over the years and that sort of thing had pretty much died down since the first six months she’d been here.

She was happy here on Ranai. She was whole. The only thing missing was a man of her own. And a child. But she was pretty sure she’d taken care of that last request—thanks to the original Marco, the one she’d fallen for weeks ago. The trouble was, she was getting the two Marcos mixed up. They were blending together in her mind. And that was just too dangerous.

The reality was, she adored both of them. And even more reality—she was pregnant. If only she could tell him. If only he would be happy about it, as a father should be. She could close her eyes and pretend, but fantasy did not become her. She was going to have a baby, and she was going to have this baby alone. Had she really faced this yet? She was afraid the truth would overwhelm her if she let herself think about the gravity of the situation.

She was walking out toward the terrace when Marco caught up to her. She’d been still thinking about how she had to beware of him and how hard it was to do that. Somehow that fear, that wariness, translated into seeing her only refuge as being in his arms. Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself clinging to him, pressed tightly against his chest.

“Cara mia, what is it?” he said, lifting her chin so that he could look into her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, unable to speak without letting him know how close she was to crying. He dropped a soft kiss on her lips, she made a tiny sound, like a kitten, like a sigh, and his arms tightened around her. She felt safe, protected. How could that be when the one she feared was the one holding her? It didn’t make any sense.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away. “I’m being a big baby. I’m…I’m really sorry, Marco.”

“What is it, Shayna?” he asked, catching hold of her hand. “What has frightened you?”

“Nothing.” She managed a fairly good smile and congratulated herself on it. “Nothing at all. Now what was it you were coming to tell me?”

He frowned, wishing he understood what had upset her. He was glad she’d turned to him instead of away, but he didn’t understand it. And he’d been shocked by the deep, fierce emotional response he’d had—as though he would do anything he had to do to make her smile again.

“Shayna—”

“Hush,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s nothing. But I was just thinking. What about Eddie?”

He nodded quickly. “That was exactly what I was coming to tell you. We’ve got to go. We forgot all about Eddie. I made a promise. I’ve got to keep it.”

Chapter Eight

“OH, MY GOSH!” Shayna said, alarmed as she looked at her watch. “I hadn’t realized it was so late.”

“That’s the problem,” Marco agreed. “I don’t know what time he goes to bed, but we still have to find a place that sells red licorice.”

“Uh-oh.” It dawned on her that this was serious. She could tell by the look in his dark eyes that he was going to find a way to keep his promise no matter what it took. “The little general store in town sells it, but they are probably closed by now.” She frowned, pursing her lips.

“What are you doing?” he asked impatiently.

She held up a hand. “I’m trying to think if there is any other place where we could buy the licorice.”

“There must be another store. A general store, a grocery, a candy store.”

“Not with that sort of red licorice.” She shook her head, genuinely worried now. “We can stop by Howe’s Market on the coast, but I doubt it.”

“Well, let’s go. If we hurry, maybe we can catch the store at the marina before they close.”

She was glad he’d remembered his commitment to the boy. Not many men she’d dated would have done it. Or, once they’d realized it was going to be an imposition to get the candy, they would have decided the promise could wait until the next day. No problem. Just a little boy who would learn how easy it was for adults to lie to him.

Luckily, Marco didn’t seem to be one of that type. A woman always liked to see a man keep his word. It was pretty important to the stability of a relationship.

Relationship! Who was she trying to kid? She had no real relationship with Marco and never would. How could she let herself get this close to a man who had been hired to spy on her by her father?

They raced back over a darkened road. Howe’s Market along the coast was already closed. Marco was kicking himself for having forgotten until so late. When he thought of Eddie with his bright brown eyes looking at him so earnestly, sure that he would do what he’d promised, it made him sick to think he might disappoint him. Poor little guy. His father was missing and his mother was suddenly gone all the time. He thought of how she was working so hard for her kids and he felt even worse. How could he have forgotten such a simple thing?

A scene flashed into his mind, a moment in his own childhood. His father had been a busy man, director of a huge international shipping enterprise and after his parents had divorced, he’d become more and more remote. To Marco, he’d been a distant sort of god to be worshiped from afar—hardly a warm, fatherly figure. As a boy, he’d yearned to be closer to him, to get some of his attention. There had been so many lonely days when promises made were broken.

There had been the time, when he was about ten, that his father had sworn he was going to make up for all those missed dates. He would take Marco overnight to attend a sailing competition being held off the Isle of Capri. He could still remember the feeling in the pit of his stomach as he leaned on the balcony railing, staring out into the darkness, waiting to see the headlights of his father’s car coming up the long driveway. They never came. He found out later that his father had gone without him, had forgotten all about taking him, in fact. He’d laughed. He’d pretended it was no big deal. But that was the day his trust in fathers died.

But what did he care, really? He barely knew this little boy. He wasn’t the boy’s father. He wasn’t the boy’s anything. They had no real tie to each other. No, it was something more than that. There was a certain empathy he felt. The boy had lost his father. He himself had lost a father, even if only emotionally. But he knew how much that loss had hurt, how it devastated his life for a time.

They arrived at the little town, turned at the marina and swung around the corner. There stood the general store, silent and closed, with only one neon sign flashing, an advertisement for beer.

Marco jumped off the scooter and bounded to the front door. “Hello,” he called, pounding on the door. “Anyone in there?”

No one responded and he went quickly to the back, trying the same thing. Nothing. He came back to where Shayna sat.

“Quick, we need the store keeper’s phone number,” he said.

Shayna gaped at him. “Sorry, that’s not something I keep on me for emergency grocery requests.”

“Well, you should,” he said distractedly. Searching the signs on the front of the store, he found a phone number and decided to try it. The ring sounded over and over again in his ears. No one answered. He swore softly.

He stared at the store, set his shoulders, and then he turned and walked back to Shayna, who was still on the Vespa. He looked troubled. Raking his hair with his fingers, he grimaced.

“Okay, I’m going to have to break in.”

She felt as though she’d been hit by lightning, flattened to the pavement. “You’re kidding,” she gasped.

He shook his head, his eyes cold as ice. “No. I have to get that licorice. I don’t see any other way.” He began rummaging in the saddlebag.

“You’re crazy,” she said, hardly able to process what he was planning to do. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Maybe.” He found an oily rag and began to wind it around his hand and then grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows. “But what if I’m the lunatic you’re looking for?”

He was enjoying this. She couldn’t believe it.

“I don’t want a lunatic,” she snapped. “I want someone with a cool, clear mind and common sense.” “No.” He shook his head. “That won’t help us. We’re thinking outside of the box here.” He put his hand up to the light from the scooter, testing how well the cloth had wrapped. “Lunatics are better for that.”

He was really planning to break into the general store. She couldn’t fully process that. She grabbed his arm. “Marco, you can’t do this. Don’t you see? You’ll get arrested.”

He barely looked at her. “Think so?”

“You’ll get thrown in jail.”

His grin was fleeting this time. “Will you bring me a file in a cake?”

“No.”

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Snob. What have you got against jailbirds?”

She threw her hands down, exasperated with him. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that they tend to be crooks!”

He thought for a moment, then heaved a heavy sigh. “Eddie’s bedtime must be fast approaching, if it’s not already come and gone.” He looked back at her. “I can’t help it, Shayna. I’ve got to get him that licorice.”

She jumped off the scooter and came to him, putting a hand on his arm, trying to think of ways to soothe his conscience. “I know but, there’s got to be another way. Maybe if we just thought this through…”

He held his rag-covered fist up for her to admire, then looked into her eyes. “Are you with me?”

“No,” she moaned. “You can’t do this.”

He shook his head. “Oh, but I can.” His jaw was set. “If you can’t bring yourself to do a little burgling for a good cause, stay here.”

He turned and started toward the window set just above a drink cooler where he planned to break in. She gave a cry of exasperation and ran after him.

“Stop!” she ordered firmly. “Don’t you dare break that window. You’ll probably slash an artery or something.”

“I’ll be careful,” he said without looking back at her.

“Stop, Marco. I mean it.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her, looking up into his face and feeling a little wild about it. “I’ll help you, but not like this.”

His frown was suspicious. “How, then?”

She almost had to laugh at his resistance. He looked like a boy threatened with an extra school day.

“Believe it or not, I’ve got a trick or two of my own up my sleeve,” she told him. “Give me a minute to see if this works.”

Running back to the scooter, she pulled her purse out of the saddlebag and dug for a credit card, then went toward the front door of the store. A car went past slowly and she paused in the shadows, trying not to look guilty and not succeeding very well. But the car didn’t stop. Meanwhile, Marco was unimpressed.

“The old credit card in the door lock trick?” he scoffed. “That went out with high button shoes. Modern locks are made to resist that one.”

She waved the card at him. “Modern locks, sure. But you forget. We’re on island time now. ‘Modern’ is a concept, not a reality here.”

He shrugged. “Even if you get the main lock, surely there will be bolts inside.”

“Marco, the thing you don’t understand,” she said as she set up to try her idea, “is that there is virtually no crime on Ranai. So no one takes all those extra precautions you need to take in the city. We just don’t need to.”

She tried the credit card against the edge of the door, then used it to pry a little.

He grunted, looking over her shoulder with growing interest. “So where did you learn how to do this, anyway?”

She gave him an arch smile. “I went to boarding school. We always needed someone to let in the girls who got back late at night.” She set the card just right and wiggled it a little. There was a click and the door swung open. She beamed at him. “Voilà,” she said with a flourish.

He grinned his admiration for her lock-picking abilities, then walked right past her into the store. “Good work,” he said shortly, seeming to forget all his dire warnings. “Now let’s find that licorice.”

Luckily there was a big box of the whips right by the cash register. Marco picked three, looked at the price, pulled coins out of his pocket and slapped them down on the counter.

“There we go,” he said, then hesitated. “I’d better write the store owner a note. Got a pen?” He grinned. “Or better yet, got a lipstick on you?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think I am, some kind of gun moll?”

“That was the part you were playacting last night, wasn’t it?”

She held up a finger. “Note the operative word—playacting.”

“Okay. I guess I’m going to have to steal a pen, as well.”

“Wait a minute,” she said, caught by the ridiculousness of it all. “You’re going to steal a pen so you can write the man you’re stealing from a note? Don’t you think that’s overdoing it a bit?”

He frowned, thinking it over. “It does seem a bit convoluted, doesn’t it?”

“Well, never mind. Here’s a pen.” She produced it out of her purse, along with a tiny notepad of violetcolored paper. “But hurry. We really don’t want anyone finding us here.”

He hurried. The note was apologetic. He even signed his name. In minutes they were back on the scooter, racing toward home and Eddie next door.

The house looked quiet, but lights were on. Shayna and Marco approached the front door with trepidation. Jilly pulled it open right after their knock.

“Hi, Mr. Marco,” she said brightly.

“Hi, Jilly.” He shifted his weight, feeling awkward. “Is Eddie home?”

Jilly looked surprised. “He went to bed already.”

“Oh.” More shifting of weight. Shayna gave him a little shove from behind and he grunted. “I…uh…I brought him the licorice I promised.”

“Oh. Great.” She smiled. “But he already brushed his teeth.”

Shayna smiled at her. “Wow, Jilly, you’re such a good babysitter. You take good care of the little ones. You’ve already got them all to bed and everything. Your mom is lucky.”

Jilly looked pleased. “I’m trying to help her.”

A movement caught Shayna’s eye, and there was Eddie peeking around the corner. She poked Marco again and gestured in Eddie’s direction with her head.

“Eddie!” Jilly cried in dismay.

“Oh, Jilly,” Shayna said quickly. “I know it’s not fair to put you in this position, but Marco promised him red licorice and he promised he would bring it tonight. Would it be okay if he just gave him the candy and Eddie could save it for tomorrow?”

Jilly looked from Eddie, to Shayna, to Marco and back to Eddie. She shrugged. “Sure,” she said sunnily. “Okay, Eddie, come on out.”

Marco grinned at him and he came out, hesitated a moment, then ran to Marco, who enveloped him in a big bear hug.

“Hi, Eddie,” he said, holding the little boy close. “I told you I’d bring you some red licorice, didn’t I? Here it is. You’d better not eat it until tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded, taking the long red whips, his dark eyes shining.

“Okay, kiddo. See you tomorrow. You be good for Jilly, okay?”

Eddie nodded again, and Shayna and Marco gave Jilly a wave and, in Marco’s case, a wink, and they left the little house.

“You know, it really feels good to do the right thing, doesn’t it?” Marco said, his chest puffed out as they made their way back to the scooter.

“Absolutely,” she responded, hiding her grin.

She drove him back toward his hotel. As they turned the corner toward the two-story building, she jammed on the brakes.

“Hey,” he cried.

“Look at that,” she said, pointing toward the parking lot.

“Uh-oh.” He looked. Two black-and-white cars were parked along the side, their lights swirling. “Looks like the cops are here.”

“Oh, goodness,” Shayna agreed. “Both cars. This must be something serious.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “Like, breaking into the general store, maybe?”

She gasped. “Oh, gosh.” She put a hand to her mouth and her eyes got very wide. “Do you think…?”

He nodded. “Yup.” He groaned. “I probably shouldn’t have signed that note.”