Except for Teresa. As a kid, she’d been intrigued by the Coretti family legacy. As a teenager, she’d begun wishing that they could stay put in their house outside Naples. That she could belong, instead of traipsing all over Europe. They never stayed in one place more than a month and only came back to their home base occasionally, so it was impossible to make friends. Teresa and her brothers had been homeschooled and along with the usual—history, math and such—had taken classes on lock picking, safecracking and forgery. By the time the Coretti children were adults, they were each prepared to carry on the family dynasty.
That was when Teresa had taken her stand. Her father had raged and argued, her mother had wept and her brothers hadn’t really believed she would do it. But in the end, Teresa had become the one Coretti in generations who hadn’t joined the family business. Which made her a puzzle to her brothers and an irritation to her father.
“You’re making too much of this, Teresa,” he chided now with a sad shake of his head. “This is no different from any other job, and when we have finished, we will be gone. With no one the wiser.”
“You’re wrong, Papa,” she argued again. “You don’t know Rico as I do. He’s a dangerous man.”
Dangerous to her, anyway.
That got Nick’s attention. “Did this man harm you in some way? If he did—”
“No.” She interrupted him quickly. The problem, she thought, was that the Coretti family had a history with Rico that her father knew nothing about. And now wasn’t the time to tell the story. “He didn’t hurt me. But Papa, he won’t allow thieves to operate in his place. He’ll find you and when he does…”
“What can he do?” Nick laughed a little and sipped at his champagne. “He will have no proof of anything. You should know better, Teresa. The Coretti family is not so easy to catch.”
“Obviously it is not as difficult as you might wish.” A deep, familiar voice spoke up from directly behind her.
Teresa went absolutely still.
She would know that voice anywhere.
With a weird mixture of dread and anticipation, she slowly turned and looked into the eyes of Rico King.
Two
“What’s the meaning of this?” the older man in the room demanded, striding in from the terrace to face Rico. “Who are you? What are you doing in my suite?”
“Papa,” Teresa said, rising from her chair, “this is Rico King.”
“Ah,” Nick mused with a half smile. “Our host. Still, this doesn’t give you the right to intrude uninvited.”
Rico steamed silently and hated the fact that he had to force his gaze away from Teresa’s to meet her father’s. The glint in the other man’s eyes told Rico the older Coretti had known exactly who Rico was. This was all part of the game. “The fact that you’re a thief on my property gives me all of the rights I need.”
“Thief?” The older man bristled and puffed up until his chest was so full of air, Rico wouldn’t have been surprised to see him lift off the floor and float about the room.
“Papa, please.” Teresa stepped in between the two men like a referee interrupting a prizefight. Facing Rico, she said, “We’ll leave. Right away.”