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Her Return to King's Bed(77)

By:Maureen Child


                Rico only crossed his arms over his chest and braced his feet                     wide apart. “Let me see the dagger first.”

                Gianni chuckled and shook his head. “This is what is wrong with                     the world today. No one trusts anymore.”

                Amused, Rico pointed out, “Says the thief.”

                “Touché, and yet it saddens me that the world has become such a                     cynical place.”

                He hadn’t expected to almost like Teresa’s brother, but damned                     if he didn’t. “Makes stealing more difficult, does it?”

                “There is that,” Gianni acknowledged as he carefully unwrapped                     the ancient dagger he’d stolen five years before. “This…is magnificent.” His                     gaze locked on the antiquity, he smiled as if watching a lover. “Intricate                     carvings, jewel-encrusted handle—but it’s the history behind this piece that sings to me.” He glanced at Rico.                     “And to you, I believe.”

                “Yes,” Rico admitted, barely glancing at the once all important                     dagger. “It has been in my family for generations and we have all, at one time                     or another, felt the hum of history in that blade.”

                Gianni nodded, still studying the dagger. “When I took this                     from you, all I saw was its beauty. The jewels, the gold.” He shrugged. “I am a                     mercenary man, trained to appreciate the finer things.”

                “That belong to others.”

                “As you say.” Gianni shrugged that off and continued while Rico                     listened, oddly fascinated. This should have been a short meeting. An exchange                     and then a fast goodbye. Instead, Teresa’s brother was acting as though they                     were old friends settling down for a visit.

                “As I was saying,” Gianni mused, looking down at the dagger in                     his hand, “when I first took the dagger, all I saw was its worth. But I couldn’t                     bring myself to fence it. Couldn’t sell it. It became a part of my collection                     and also, it became a sort of talisman.”

                “What do you mean?” Interested in spite of himself, Rico waited                     for an answer.

                “As I held this dagger in my hands, for the first time in my                     life I felt the history of a piece.” He turned it, studying it thoughtfully.                     “And I began to see that I had not been taking things from people. I had been stealing away pieces of their                     lives.”