Her Return to King's Bed. Maureen Child

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      Her father was always on the lookout for his next job. She should have known that he would never have been able to resist the allure of Tesoro. For him, it was the mother lode.

      The problem was, this fabulous hotel belonged to Rico King and that was really not a good thing.

      It had been five years since she’d seen Rico and just thinking his name sent a ripple of heat along her spine. Like it was yesterday, she could see those blue eyes of his as he stared down at her. She could almost taste his mouth on hers and hardly a night went by that she didn’t dream of his hands sliding across her skin.

      She’d spent so much time trying to get Rico out of her mind as well as her life—and here she was. On his turf.

      Warily, she turned her head for a quick look outside to the terrace, as if half expecting to see Rico standing there. Glaring at her.

      But the elegantly furnished deck was empty save for the glass-topped table, the chairs and matching chaise and a silver bucket holding her father’s favorite brand of champagne. Which, she thought, brought her right back to the problem at hand.

      “Papa,” she started, “I asked you to stay away from Rico King, remember?”

      Nick flicked an imaginary piece of lint from the elegantly tailored suit jacket he wore, then smoothed one hand along the side of his perfectly styled hair. “Of course I remember, my angel. And as promised,” he continued, wagging a finger at her, “I have refused all temptation to relieve Mr. King of his valuables.”

      Teresa sighed. “That’s not what I meant, Papa. Tesoro is Rico’s. Being here, stealing from his guests, you might as well be lifting his wallet. You’re tempting fate, Papa. Rico is not exactly an understanding man.”

      “Ah, Teresa,” Nick said, carrying his crystal flute to the terrace where he refilled his glass and took a sip before continuing. “You were always too nervous. Too...” He paused, tipped his head back and tried to come up with the right word. Finally, he added sadly, “Honest.”

      A wry smile curved Teresa’s mouth. Where else but in her family would honesty be considered a fatal flaw? She’d lived on the fringes of the law since she was a child. Before she was five, she could identify a plainclothes police officer as well as a possible mark with alacrity. While other children played with dolls, Teresa learned to pick locks. When her girlfriends were taking driver’s education, Teresa studied with her uncle Antonio, the master safecracker.

      She loved her family, but she’d never been comfortable with stealing for a living. At eighteen, she had broken it to her father that she had gone on her last job. Instead, she became the first Coretti in memory to go to school and be legally, gainfully employed.

      Her father still considered it a tragic waste of her talents.

      While her mind raced, she watched her father settle on the chaise and stare off at the resort spread below.

      Rico had built something amazing here, she thought, but that didn’t surprise her. He was a man who never settled for less than the best, no matter the circumstances. She’d learned that when she first met him so long ago in Cancún.

      At his hotel, Castello de King—King’s Castle—Teresa had been one of the innumerable chefs in the immense hotel kitchens. In her first real job after culinary school, she was excited simply to be a part of the hustle that took place in that amazing kitchen. Teresa had believed that working in that hotel was the best thing that had ever happened to her—until she met Rico himself.

      She’d worked late one night and before heading to her apartment, Teresa had treated herself to a little relaxation. She’d carried a glass of wine out to one of the beach lounge chairs and sat to enjoy the night, the moon on the water and the lovely sensation of being absolutely alone.

      Then he had appeared, walking along the water’s edge, moonlight shining on his dark hair and making the white shirt he wore seem to glow. He’d worn tan slacks and his bare feet had kicked through the water with every step. She couldn’t seem to look away from him. He was tall and dark and as he came closer, she realized he was gorgeous. He was also her employer. Rico King, playboy, gazillionaire, hotelier and at the moment, as alone as she.

      In an instant, her mind replayed that scene.

      He glanced up as if sensing her gaze on him and when he saw her, he smiled and headed for her. “I thought I was alone on the beach.”

      “So did I,” she managed to say.

      “Shall we be alone together?”

      Teresa still remembered that faintest hint of an accent coloring his words. His eyes were a piercing blue, his hair as black as the night and his smile was temptation personified. She couldn’t have said no to him even if she had tried—which she hadn’t. Rico had sat on the sand beside her and they’d shared her glass of wine and spent the next couple of hours talking.

      Teresa came out of the memory and mentally warned herself to stop reliving the past. To stop indulging in thoughts of him and what might have been. She was here on Tesoro—in Rico’s hotel—for one reason only: to get her family out of there before Rico discovered them. If only her father had listened to her. But Nick Coretti was a force of nature and when the prize was rich, no risk was too much.

      Rico would find them. Teresa knew that man too well to think that he would allow jewel thieves to operate freely in his place. It was only a matter of time. Which meant that she had to get the Coretti family off Tesoro. Fast.

      Teresa followed her father to the terrace. The sunlight was bright, the sky a brilliant blue and a soft breeze carried the scent of tropical flowers as it lifted her hair off her neck.

      “Papa, you don’t know Rico like I do. He will catch you.”

      Her father snorted, then shook his head and chuckled. “Bellissima, no Coretti has ever been caught. We are too good at what we do.”

      True, she thought, but the Corettis had never come up against an adversary like Rico before, either. Yes, various police forces from several countries had tried and failed to pin a crime on the Corettis. But their interest in the family of thieves had been purely professional.

      For Rico, this would be personal.

      “Papa, you have to trust me on this.” She laid one hand on his arm. “Please, let’s get off the island while we still can.”

      He clucked his tongue at her. “You have made far too much of this man you once cared for. Always you believe he is searching for you. Searching for us.”

      “He did search for me, remember?”

      Nick waved that away. “You pricked his pride when you left him, my darling. It is understandable. No man would care for losing such a lovely woman from his life. But it’s now five years. I believe it’s time you stop worrying about this man.”

      Five years or five minutes. Rico was the kind of man who never left a woman’s thoughts.

      Besides, her father didn’t know everything that had happened between her and Rico. Some things she hadn’t been able to share, not even with her family.

      Watching her father now, looking like the lord of the manor as he stared out over the luxurious view spread below СКАЧАТЬ