Page 6 of Bound By The Italian’s 'I Do'

Heart sinking, she shook her head. ‘It’s amazing but it’s too much.’ It was too conspicuous. How could she blend in if things went wrong and she needed to escape? Plus something this size would give the impression she was in the league of billionaires. She knew how to pull off rich—after all, her family had once beenrich—but this was a whole different league. This was Silicon Valley and oligarch territory. ‘I need something much smaller.’

‘Sorry, darling, but no can do. We’re hitting the summer season. Everything’s either booked or the owners are wanting them for themselves.’

‘But this isn’t what we agreed.’

‘Darling, I’ve managed to acquire one of the finest superyachts in the whole of the Caribbean for your exclusive use, and you’re complaining about it? Look at her! She’s a masterpiece! She’s got a helipad, two swimming pools, a library, an entertainment room, a games room, a movie room, a casino, a beauty parlour, a spa,andshe has an inflatable slide that you can swish down straight into the sea. And if all that doesn’t tempt you, she has her own speedboat, Jet Skis and a load of other water sports goodies tucked away for your personal use.’

No wonder it was named the Party Palace. This was a vessel equipped and dedicated to its owner having a good time.

‘Does the owner know you’re giving her away for a fortnight at no charge?’ Chartering something of this size and opulence complete with full crew would generally set someone back around the hundred thousand mark. Per week. In English pounds. She would have had to work for David for free for ten years to pay for this.

‘Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies.’

She fixed him with a stare that, instead of making him quail, made him laugh and throw his arms around her. ‘Oh, Isabelle, Isabelle. Why so serious? You’re in the Caribbean. You have a superyacht with a crew of twenty at your disposal.Enjoy it, my darling. Everything is taken care of. Anything you could possibly want will be provided. If you’re anchored at sea and want a Methuselah of Moët flown in or a hundred white roses, ask and it shall be delivered.’

‘Have you really not got anything smaller I can use?’

‘Do you know what the definition of stupid is? Asking the same question again and again hoping for a different answer.’

From the other side of the harbour, standing at the balustrade of his hotel room’s balcony, Gianni watched the exchange between Issy and the broker through his binoculars. His beautiful hustler did not look pleased at the broker’s offering. He didn’t need to be a lip-reader to know she was arguing about it. He smiled when her shoulders sagged and she finally appeared to concede defeat. He was proved right a moment later when they climbed the steps onto thePalazzo delle Feste. The captain joined them. She shook his hand then followed the two men inside and out of Gianni’s view.

Well played, David, he thought. There was nothing in the broker’s demeanour to suggest anything was amiss. The promise of a further quarter million if the con woman accepted the yacht was too big a temptation for him to want to screw this up. That money was on top of the hundred thousand Gianni had already paid him. Information came with a price, and Gianni was happy to pay it.

He sent her a message.

Just landed. Can’t wait to see you. G x

How did he know she was a hustler? His gut. It was never wrong. The one time he’d ignored it, the consequences had been disastrous. The evidence was pretty damn convincing too. Beautiful woman entering a club renowned as a haven for the rich and powerful, on the lookout for a man to reel in. She’d played her part beautifully. Those come-to-bed eyes. The seductive smile. Thepièce de résistance—her enthusiasm for the single life. Unspoken had been the promise of a no-strings-attached fling that any man would salivate for while cleverly and subtly establishing that shewasrich by mentioning her yacht. Putting herself on an equal financial footing to quell any doubts her victim might have. She’d beenmagnificent. If Rob hadn’t seen her get into a cab and establish that she’d told at least one lie, Gianni wouldn’t have doubted her at all. That’s how good she’d been. And if he hadn’t doubted her he wouldn’t have got a close associate in Barbados to ask around at all the marinas in Bridgetown about a beautiful blonde called Issy who kept her yacht moored there. No one had heard of this woman...but all the digging around did reveal one delicious nugget. The slippery English broker David Reynolds was trying to pull in a favour and borrow—not charter—a modest yacht of no less than forty feet. What made this nugget so delicious was that the notoriously greedy David lived on his own yacht so was unlikely to need it for himself. Oh, and the date he needed it for was, coincidentally, the day Gianni flew out to the Caribbean.

On a hunch, Gianni got his associate to have a little chat with David Reynolds. After handing over considerable cold hard cash, he hit pay dirt. The yacht was needed for the exclusive use of a woman called Isabelle Clements.

It could have been a coincidence. Except Gianni didn’t believe in coincidence. Only one way to find out, and that was to offer up his brand-new yacht, thePalazzo delle Feste, to the mysterious Isabelle Clements.

His gut and hunches had all been proved right. The beautiful Issy was indeed Isabelle Clements.

The beautiful Issy was indeed a hustler. A con woman.

His phone buzzed. The hustler had responded.

What a coincidence! Just docked! Still up for meeting at Freddo’s later? x

They’d exchanged dozens of messages and numerous phone calls since their contrived meeting. It had been great fun stringing her along, asking her questions about what she was up to, wondering what outrageous lie she’d come up with next. ‘Oh, I’ve spent the day snorkelling,’ or, ‘I spent the day with friends in St Lucia. Have you been? Oh, you must, it’s to die for!’ It was the phone calls he’d enjoyed the most, and not just because he could imagine her squirming over the lies he was forcing her to fabricate on the hoof. He kept capturing hints of genuine humour in her beautiful voice that only added to the anticipation. A hook-up with a beautiful hustler with a sense of humour? What man could resist?

He fired a quick reply.

Wouldn’t miss it for the world. 5 p.m.? G x

Her response flashed moments later.

Perfect. x

He read their most recent exchange a second time and grinned.

Let the games commence.

Issy was trying very hard not to panic. She needed to entice Gianni onto ‘her’ yacht by tomorrow at the latest. She knew that wouldn’t be a problem, but whatwouldbe a problem was how she’d be able to act the role of superyacht owner when she didn’t know her way around said superyacht.

She could have cheerfully kicked David in the ankle for screwing this up. She’d been specific about her requirements. Six months spent as his unpaid dogsbody meant she’d earned the right to be specific about them. Issy and Amelia had spent hours debating the best kind of yacht for Issy to have, and in all honesty, a battered old fishing boat would be better than this floating palace.

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