Christina Dodd - Fortune Hunter 01 - Trouble in High Heels by Christina Dodd

Author:Christina Dodd [Dodd, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery: Thriller - Romance - Chicago
ISBN: 0451219120
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2006-07-31T23:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

Brandi opened her eyes. She didn’t know where she was.Where was she?

She drew in a sharp, panicked breath.

Then, in a gush of memory, the truth was upon her.

Roberto. This was his grandfather’s house— Nonno’s house. His grandfather had suffered such a grievous injury by men she’d met today. And she dared not go to the police.

Her apartment had been vandalized, her treasured dragon broken.

Her first day on the job had turned into a nightmare.

She was in an unfamiliar town. She had nowhere to turn. No one could help her except Roberto, and he was a jewel thief—or worse.

Slowly she sat up and looked around. She was alone in the living room. The light in the corner had been turned on, the curtains closed. She’d been prone on the couch. Asleep. When had she gone to sleep?

Had she heard men’s voices in the kitchen?

Where was Roberto?

She leaped up so fast her head spun. She dashed through the door into the kitchen, and stood swaying against the wall, staring.

Roberto stood at the stove. He had his white sleeves rolled to his elbows, wore a ruffled white apron, and stirred a pot with a wooden spoon. Nonno was looking into a pot and arguing with Roberto about the contents.

Head rush. She’d gotten up too fast. Gotten up too fast… and seen Roberto. Both could cause a head rush.

Only Roberto made her feel as if it would never stop.

Both men looked up, bemused, at her entrance.

“You all right?” Roberto placed the dripping spoon down on the red Formica counter and took a step toward her.

No. She didn’t want him to touch her. She’d pitch over onto her face for sure. “I’m good.” She looked him over. “Nice apron.”

“My grandmother’s.” He winked at her and went back to stirring the concoction. Puffs of steam rose from the pot carrying the aromas of garlic, onion, olive oil, and basil.

“Ah. She’s awake, our little sleeping beauty.” Nonno waltzed over to her, smiling, mellow… slightly tipsy. Tickling her cheek with his ruined fingers, he said, “We’re fixing dinner for you, cara.”

“Thank you, Nonno.” She smiled at the old man and thought, Roberto cooks? “It smells great.”

“It’s an old family sauce recipe. We put it on our homemade polenta, and the angels sing with joy.” Roberto kissed his fingers.

She wanted to snatch the kiss out of the air, but she’d made enough of a fool of herself today. Instead she looked around the narrow, old-fashioned kitchen. The table in the middle of the kitchen was set with a red-and-white-checked tablecloth, three plates with silverware, and a large salad in a wooden bowl. Three places were set….

A sleep-drugged memory surfaced, vague and uncertain. “Is someone else here?”

“Someone else?” Nonno lifted his brows, but innocence sat ill on his wrinkled face.

“While I was sleeping, I thought I heard men talking.”

“We were talking.” Roberto gestured between him and his grandfather. “We haven’t seen each other for months. We had much to catch up on.”

“Okay. I guess that was it.” Although it seemed she’d heard different voices… it must have been a dream.

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