There was a twitch of a muscle in Berto’s jaw, letting her know he wasn’t comfortable with her decision. If it were up to him, her father or even the king, she’d never have a social life. It was getting old. And if this man was bold enough to stand up to Berto, she was intrigued.
Without another word, Berto stepped aside.
The man approached her table. He didn’t smile at her. She couldn’t blame him. Berto could put people on edge.
“I’m sorry about Berto. He can be overprotective. I’d like to thank you again. You’re my hero—”
“Stop saying that. I’m no one’s hero.”
“But you stopped that thief and without you, I probably wouldn’t have gotten my purse back.” Or more importantly, the journal.
“I was just in the right place at the right time. That doesn’t make me anything special.”
“Well, don’t argue with me. It’s all over social media.” She withdrew her phone. She pulled up the feed with all of the posts that included photos of this man holding her purse, but his head was lowered, shielding his face.
She noticed how the muscles of his jaw tensed. He took modesty to a whole new level. What was up with that? She was definitely intrigued by this man.
“I’m guessing you didn’t track me down to claim a reward.”
The man in a pair of navy dress shorts and a white polo shirt lowered himself into a seat across the table from her. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
Was this man for real? “Of course I do.”
He shook his head. “I meant, do you know my name?”
She was definitely missing something here, but what? “I take it you know me.”
“Of course. You are Lady Annabelle DiSalvo, daughter of the Duke of Halencia and niece of the king. Also, you are in charge of the South Shore Project.”
If he was hoping to impress her, he’d succeeded. Now, she had no choice but to ask. “And your name would be?”
“Grayson Landers.”
Wait. What? He was the genius multimillionaire?
Surely she couldn’t have heard him correctly. He removed his sunglasses and it all came together. Those striking cerulean blue eyes were unforgettable—even from an online photo. At the time, she’d thought they’d been Photoshopped. They hadn’t been. His piercing eyes were just as striking in person—maybe even more so.
Somehow, someway she’d missed a voice mail or an email because the last she knew she was supposed to be meeting Mary. She swallowed hard. She should be happy about this change of events, but her stomach was aflutter with nerves. She resisted the urge to run a hand over her hair, wishing that she’d taken the time to freshen up before this meeting.
“Mr. Landers, it’s so nice to meet you.” She stretched her hand across the table.
His handshake was firm but brief. She had no idea if that was a bad sign or not.
“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know. You were expecting Mary, but my plans changed at the last minute, making it possible for me to attend this meeting.”
“I see. I...I mean that’s great.” She sent him a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
There was just something about this man that made her nervous, which was odd. Considering who her uncle and her father were, she was used to being around powerful men.
But most of the men in her life wore their power like they wore their suits. It was out there for people to see, maybe not flaunting it, but they certainly didn’t waste their time trying to hide who and what they were. But this man, he looked like an American tourist, not a man who could buy a small country. And that beard and mustache hadn’t been in any of the photos online.
His brows rose. “Is there something wrong with my appearance?”
Drat. She’d let her gaze linger too long. “No. No. Not at all. In fact, you look quite comfortable.”
Her words did nothing to smooth the frown lines marring his handsome face. “Do I need to change for today’s meeting?”
“Um, not at all.” She jumped to her feet. “Shall we go?”
He didn’t say anything at first. And then he returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose as he got to his feet. There was something disconcerting about not being able to look into his eyes when they spoke.
The sooner she got this presentation under way, the sooner it’d be over. “Would you like a tour of the South Shore?”
“Yes.”
Short and to the point. She wondered if he was always so reserved. She started to walk, thinking about where she should begin. Of course, she’d given this tour a number of times before to other potential business owners, but somehow it all felt different where Mr. Landers was concerned. Everything about him felt different.
Annabelle straightened her shoulders as she turned to the small piazza where an historic fountain adorned the center. “I thought we would start the tour here. The South Shore is a historic neighborhood.”
“I see that. Which makes me wonder why you think one of my cafés would fit in?”
“This area has had its better days.” She’d hoped her presentation would make the answer to his question evident, but she hadn’t even started yet. She laced her fingers together and turned to him. “Where buildings had once been left for nature to reduce them to rubble, there is now a growing and thriving community.”
“That’s nice, but you haven’t answered my question.”
She moved closer to the ancient fountain where four cherubs in short togas held up a basin while water spouts from the edge of the fountain shot into the basin. At night, spotlights lit up the fountain, capturing the droplets of water and making them twinkle like diamonds. Too bad she couldn’t show him. It was a beautiful sight.
“If you will give me a chance, I’m getting to it.”
He nodded. “Proceed.”
She turned to the fountain. “This is as old as the South Shore. The famous sculptor Michele Vincenzo Valentini created it. It is said that he visited Mirraccino and fell in love with the island. Wanting to put his mark upon the land he loved, he sculpted this fountain as a gift to its people. The sad thing is that not long after the project was completed, he passed on.”
“Interesting.” Grayson glanced over his shoulder at Berto. “Will he be coming with us?”
“Yes.” Without any explanation about Berto’s presence, Annabelle moved toward one of her favorite shops lining the piazza, the bakery. She inhaled deeply. The aroma of fresh-baked rolls and cinnamon greeted her, making her mouth water. Perhaps they should go inside for a sampling. Surely something so delicious that melts in your mouth would put a smile on her companion’s handsome face.
“This bakery is another place that’s been around for years. In fact, this family bakery has been handed down through the generations. And let me tell you, their baked goods can’t be surpassed. Would you care to go inside?”
He didn’t say anything at first and she was starting to wonder if he’d even heard her. And then he said, “If that’s what you’d like.”
Not exactly the ringing endorsement that she’d been hoping for, but it was good enough. And the only excuse she needed to latch on to one of those cinnamon rolls. She yanked open the door and stepped inside. The sweet, mouthwatering aromas wrapped around her, making her stomach rumble with approval. It was only then she realized that due to her flight delay not only had she missed an opportunity to freshen up but she’d also missed her lunch.
After