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Well, that wasn’t much help, Kayla thought. But Delores knew something. Her entire demeanor had changed once she saw the photo.

Delores slipped on a pair of glasses and studied the photograph. The pulse in her neck seemed to be beating double-time. Every thirty seconds or so, she took another look over her shoulder, as if expecting someone to appear. The air in the store grew tense. Kayla told herself to get a grip on her imagination. The woman was probably just waiting for another clerk or trying to remember if she’d ever seen the watch.

“You said the watch was silver?” Delores asked.

“Yes.”

“And you own it?” She looked from Nick to Kayla.

“I do,” Kayla said, lying for the moment. This woman was asking more questions than she was answering. “It belonged to my grandmother. She recently gave it to me.”

“I see. What was your grandmother’s name? Maybe I could check our records. We have records on everything we’ve ever sold, although some of them are in storage.”

“The watch didn’t actually belong to my grandmother, but to a man she knew, the man in the photograph,” she said, as Nick handed the original photo to Delores that showed not just the watch, but also her grandmother and her first love. “I think his name was Johnny.”

Delores’s face turned white, and her eyes glittered.

“Do you know him?” Kayla asked.

“Johnny Blandino,” she muttered, as if she were talking to herself.

Kayla’s pulse quickened with this piece of information. She now had a last name to go with the first. “Was he a friend of your father’s? A customer?”

Delores cleared her throat. “I’m not sure it’s even the
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same man. The photograph is not very clear. Why don’t you give me your name and number? I’ll check our records and see what I can learn.”

Kayla wrote the information down on a piece of paper.

“Whatever you can tell me would be greatly appreciated.

It’s very important.”

“It is a beautiful timepiece,” Delores said, running her finger around the edges of the watch in the photograph.

“Why didn’t you bring it with you?” She looked at Kayla with dark, questioning eyes.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” she lied. For some reason, she didn’t want to tell Delores any more of the story, not until she revealed whether or not her father had made the watch.

“Are pocket watches such as these valuable?” Nick asked. “In today’s market?”

“I doubt it’s worth more than a few hundred dollars,”

Delores replied. “When can you bring it in?”

“When can you check the records?” Kayla countered.

“I can take a look later tonight.”

“Great. Why don’t you call me, and if you have the records, I’ll bring the watch in,” Kayla suggested.

Delores nodded. “I’ll do that. May I keep the photograph until then?”

“We’ll hang on to the photo. You can keep the enlargement.” Nick handed the original photo back to Kayla. “I’m sure you don’t want to lose that.”

“No, I don’t,” she murmured as they said good-bye and left the shop.

Nick paused on the sidewalk outside the store. “She recognized the watch and the man wearing it.”

“I agree. And she gave us his last name, Blandino, which my grandmother neglected to mention.”

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“I don’t understand why your grandmother is being so secretive. Her husband is dead. Who’s going to care about a man she dated so long ago?”

Kayla wished she had a good answer. “I don’t know.”

“The watch has to be worth something,” Nick said.

“That’s why everyone is acting so strangely about it. By the way, how are you planning to produce it when Delores calls you tomorrow?”

“I’ll worry about that then. I had the feeling that if she knew we didn’t have it she wasn’t going to check the records. Let’s see if she comes up with anything. We’ll go from there.”

“I’ll walk you back to your car. I’d like to get on the Internet and see what we can find out about Johnny Blandino.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” As they started down the street, Kayla’s stomach began to grumble, her senses tickled by the wafting smell of garlic. “Uh, Nick,” she said, stopping abruptly.

“What now?” he asked, glancing quickly around.

“I’m starving. And it smells like heaven in there.” She pointed to the nearby café. “Have you eaten lunch?”

“No, but —”

“But what? You have to eat. You’ll be able to think better after a delicious plate of lasagna — I’m sure of it.”

A small, reluctant smile curved his lips for the first time all day, and she was struck by how attractive he was when he wasn’t scowling or frowning. She had the irresistible urge to try to keep that smile on his face.

“All right, you sold me,” he said. “Lunch it is.”

The Italian café was crowded, obviously a neighborhood favorite. Once Nick had taken a look at the menu
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and seen the bowls of minestrone soup going by, he’d become aware of how hungry he was. He was glad Kayla had called for a break. They could both use a good meal.

He watched as she pulled her long brown hair back into a ponytail, then swept it up on top of her head with a band. She had a gorgeous face, with beautiful skin that had a natural pink glow. A pair of colorful, funky earrings dangled from her ears. Her short floral skirt showed off her great legs, and her hot pink top was . . . well, quite frankly hot. It was no wonder Evan had decided to romance the watch out of her. If she’d been an ugly old hag, he suspected Evan would have taken the watch and run.

While he wasn’t surprised Evan had chosen to seduce her, he was still amazed that Kayla had fallen so hard and fast for him. She wasn’t a flaky bimbo. She seemed to have a good working brain. And she couldn’t be lacking for dates. So why had she let herself get swept up in a speedy marriage?

He’d probably never understand women. His conversation with Jenny earlier had left him just as puzzled.

Evan had ruined her life, yet she still seemed to have a soft spot for him. Why?

Evan must have been really good at making each of them believe they were going to get everything they wanted. Desire was the vulnerable point. Once a person wanted something, they became a target for all those who would give it to them.

“What are you going to get?” Kayla asked, taking a sip of water.

“Well, we had pizza last night, so I’m thinking can-nelloni.”

“That’s right. We’re on an Italian streak,” she said with
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a smile. “But North Beach does have the best Italian food outside of Italy.”

“Have you been to Italy?”

“Yes, Rome and Florence. They have some of the most beautiful churches and stained-glass windows in the world.”

“You think you’ll still be a fan of churches after today?”

“I’m sure it was just an accident. My imagination has been in overdrive the past few weeks. I really need to get a grip.”

“Don’t dismiss your instincts,” he told her. “If your gut tells you something is wrong, you should listen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She paused as the waiter came to take their orders, then said, “There is something I want to ask you to promise me, Nick. And think about it before you say anything.”

His body tensed at the serious note in her voice. He hoped he could do what she was going to ask. But if it meant taking it easy on Evan, there was no way in hell he could agree to that. “What is it?”

“Tell me the truth — always, no matter what, no matter how ugly or painful or whatever it is. I can’t take any more lies. I have to be able to trust what you say.” She extended her hand. “Deal?”

He took her hand and gazed into her beautiful brown eyes and completely forgot what he was going to say.

Touching her kicked off a connection between them of pure, unadulterated lust.
Shit!
Where the hell had that come from? He wanted to snatch his hand away, but he also didn’t want to act like a fool. “Deal,” he said, forcing himself to focus. “No lies between us.”

“Good.” She pulled her hand free and licked her lips.

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The tiny gesture almost undid him. He did not want to be attracted to her. Hell, she was the last woman on earth he wanted to be attracted to. She’d married Evan, his enemy, for God’s sake. He shouldn’t even like her, much less be feeling anything else for her.

The only problem was that he did like her — too much.

She was getting under his skin.
Damn.

“Is something wrong?” she asked quietly.

“No, everything’s great.” He took a swig of ice water, hoping it would cool him down from the inside out.

“There’s something else we should talk about,” Kayla began.

God. What now?

“Our marriage,” she continued.

Her words stirred up an image in his head of Kayla in white silk lingerie beckoning him into their bed. He cleared his throat and blinked his eyes. What on earth was wrong with him? “Our . . . our marriage?” he asked.

“Don’t panic. I just mean that we should probably talk to a lawyer about how to undo it. I’m sure the last thing you want to be is married to me,” she said with a joking smile.

He wanted to tell her that he absolutely agreed that would be the worst thing in the world, but for the life of him he couldn’t get any words out. He took another drink of water, hoping to clear the knot from his throat.

“Here I was thinking you were the kind of guy who wasn’t scared of anything,” she mused. “But you just about flipped out when I mentioned the word
marriage.

You’re one of those men who is scared of commitment, aren’t you?”

“Well, I can’t see myself marrying someone after three weeks,” he snapped.

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“Ouch.”

“You started it. And for the record, I’m not scared of anything, especially commitment. I just choose to live my life alone. I’ve had enough of family responsibility to last me a lifetime. I don’t need another demanding female in my life.”

“Is that how you see your future wife? As a demanding female?”

“I’ve never met a woman who wasn’t demanding.”

She frowned at that and sat back in her chair. “That sounds pretty cynical.”

“I prefer realistic. I call it the way I see it.”

“Since we’re being frank, I’ve never met a man who didn’t want to be in charge. All that macho crap can be really irritating.”

“So why the urge to marry, Kayla? Why not just stay single, in control of your life, your house, your remote control?”

“Believe me, that idea has been growing in merit the past two weeks.” She glanced down at the ring on her finger and, after a momentary hesitation, she twisted it off her finger and handed it to him. “Why don’t you see if you can get your money back on this?”

The metal was warm from the heat of her skin. His palm tingled. He was glad she’d taken off Evan’s ring, but at the same time he wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to have that gold band between them. “Are you sure?” he asked, testing her resolve.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “I’m positive. From here on out, I’m never again going to think of myself as Mrs.

Nick Granville.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said, feeling unsettled by the words
Mrs. Nick Granville.

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“It’s back to being Kayla Sheridan.” She raised her water glass. “Here’s to getting Evan Chadwick out of our lives once and for all.”

Nick picked up his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

6

By the time they returned to Nick’s house it was almost four o’clock. Kayla couldn’t believe the afternoon had passed so quickly. After they’d toasted Evan’s eventual demise, the conversation had veered into more neutral topics, and she’d actually enjoyed their time together.

Nick was smart, well-read, and had a dry sense of humor that became more apparent when he wasn’t caught up in chasing down Evan. He’d told her about his job, and his passion for what he did had come through in every word.

For a while she’d forgotten why they were together and just let herself relax.

Unfortunately, her tension had returned the moment they’d returned to Nick’s house. She grew more uncomfortable as she followed him up the stairs and into his bedroom so they could access his computer. She kept looking at the bed, remembering the last time she’d been in this room . . . in that bed.

Evan had followed her upstairs after she’d spilled wine on her blouse. She’d wanted to rinse it out. They’d started fooling around, kissing, touching, caressing, falling onto the bed. . . . She could see it in her mind in
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glorious, colorful, and now somewhat embarrassing detail. She desperately wished she could erase every minute that they’d spent together.

“Something wrong?” Nick asked, drawing her attention back to him. His jaw tightened as his gaze moved to the bed. “Memories, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Good, because I don’t want to hear about it.” Nick sat down in front of the computer and waved his hand to the nearby armchair. “You can pull that up, if you want.”

She did as he suggested, looking over his shoulder as he entered Johnny Blandino into the search engine. A moment later a page of entries came up. There appeared to be a lot of Johnny Blandinos in the world. “Narrow it down to San Francisco,” she suggested.

A second later they had a batch of new listings. Nick let out a low whistle. “Would you look at this?” He pointed to the first entry. “ ‘Johnny Blandino, escape attempt, Alcatraz.’ ”

“That can’t be the same guy,” she said in disbelief.

“Let’s check it out.”

He clicked on the link, which led them to an article in the
San Francisco Tribune
celebrating the anniversary of one of Alcatraz’s most famous escapes and the release of a new book, titled
Tales from the Rock.
Nick continued reading, “ ‘One of Alcatraz’s most infamous escape attempts occurred in 1960, when a famous band of San Francisco bank robbers, Johnny Blandino, Nathan Carmello, and Frankie Damon, disappeared from the island prison,’ ” Nick read. “ ‘Three days later, Frankie’s body washed ashore. The other two men were never found but were believed to have drowned in the dangerous currents around the island. Their escape remains one
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