This was why she rarely allowed hope to inflate inside her like an oversize balloon. Because when the inevitable happened and that balloon popped, the fall back to reality was a crushing one.

Rico didn't want her. He wanted the child they might have made together. So much for fresh chances. For starting over. He couldn't let go of the past and she couldn't change it for him, so they were at a standstill.

"That's why you want me here," she said, for her own benefit more than his. She needed to hear herself say it. "Because I might be pregnant."

"You will admit, there is a good chance you are." He laid one hand against her flat abdomen as if already claiming the child that might be inside her. "And if you are, you will stay here. With me. No divorce."

She pushed away from him and scrambled to her feet. Looking down on the gorgeous man sprawled naked in the sunshine, she felt only disappointment. Regret. And a deep, bone-searing sorrow that would probably be with her for the rest of her life.

"But the only way you want me is if I'm pregnant." G.o.d, it cost her to say those words.

"I did not say that," he countered, coming to his feet in a slow, languid movement.

"You really didn't have to," she muttered, pushing her still-damp hair back from her face with both hands. "G.o.d, I'm an idiot."

"Teresa? Surely you see that we are good together. Staying married wouldn't be a hardship on either of us."

His tone was so reasonable. The look on his face so patient. Teresa wanted to scream.

Shaking her head, she reached for her clothes and tugged them on while she talked. "No, Rico. I won't be part of a marriage that's described as not a hardship."

"You are deliberately misconstruing what I said."

"I don't think so," she countered, shooting him a quick glare while she hopped on one foot to pull on her shorts. "I think you said just what you meant."

He got dressed too, but with more casual, easy movements than she managed. "You are overreacting."

"Really?" She hooked her bra and then grabbed her shirt. Pulling it on, too, she asked, "Then what would your reaction be if I asked you to forget about prosecuting my family?"

He went still as stone, his pale blue eyes fixed on her, looking like chips of ice.

"Could you let them go?" She already knew the answer but she had to hear him say it.

Then he surprised her. Again.

"If I let them go," he said shortly, his voice as cool as the gleam in his eyes, "what do I get out of it?"

She threw her hair back out of her eyes. "I'll stay with you."

"For how long?"

This cost her. Humiliation flushed her cheeks as she realized she was blackmailing her husband into keeping their marriage alive. He wanted her. The pa.s.sion between them was strong. And this last week she'd seen a side of him she hadn't seen since five years before. Maybe, she told herself, if she stayed and they were together long enough, love would eventually win the day.

"Forever," she said simply, surrendering her last ounce of pride. "Or for as long as you want me."

He took a long, deep breath and steadied himself. His eyes were shuttered, emotions sheathed to keep her from reading whatever he was thinking. It seemed to take forever before he finally said, "It's a deal. The Corettis go free and you stay here. With me."

She should have been happy. This was exactly what she had wanted so badly. To be able to remain with Rico here on the island. But getting it this way left her feeling as empty as she had during the previous five years. She could only nurture that small, now silent surge of hope and pray that eventually it would prove enough to conquer Rico's heart at last.

That hadn't gone at all as he'd planned.

Rico had spent the last week being the most attentive husband in the world in an attempt to get her to beg him to let her stay. That way he could keep his word to her family and hold on to his pride at the same time.

But she'd turned the tables on him.

Pacing the perimeter of his office two days after their sojourn at the waterfall, he felt caged. As if somehow he had wandered into a trap of his own making and now there was no way out.

"It was telling her that I wouldn't let her leave if she was pregnant," he muttered, sc.r.a.ping one hand across the back of his neck.

But he didn't know how he could have handled that any differently. Yes, he wanted her. Yes, he loved her still. But he couldn't tell her that without handing her all of the power in the negotiation that was sure to follow. So instead he got a wife who had once again become a hostage for her family.

She had traded her freedom for theirs and now he would never know if she would have chosen to stay simply because she loved him.

"Idiot." He kicked his desk for good measure as he made another pa.s.s around the room and the resulting pain was only what he deserved.

When his secretary buzzed through, he answered angrily, "I don't wish to be disturbed."

"I know, sir, but there's a man here to see you. He says it's urgent."

Scowling, Rico demanded, "Who is he?"

"He says his name is Gianni Coretti and that you're expecting him."

Twelve.

Rico felt a surge of both anger and satisfaction. At last there was a target for the fury writhing inside him. "Send him in."

Gianni Coretti was tall, with short black hair, sharp brown eyes and the look of a man who didn't have much patience. Good, Rico thought. Then they were well matched. Gianni was wearing a well-cut suit and looked more like the head of a corporation than an infamous thief.

He crossed the room in several long strides and offered his hand. Rico merely looked from the outstretched hand and back up to the man's eyes. He gave nothing away, though mentally he was shouting, Why are you early? I still have four days with Teresa!

Which was ridiculous, of course. The whole point of this bargain he'd begun what felt like a lifetime ago was to have the Aztec dagger returned. That piece of family history that had been entrusted to him by his father. That's what he should be interested in. Instead all he could think was, if Gianni was here with the dagger, then Teresa would go.

But no, a voice in his mind whispered. She wouldn't. She'd bargained herself away for his a.s.surance that he wouldn't see the Corettis jailed. Teresa was going to stay.

For all the wrong reasons.

d.a.m.n it.

"I've heard quite a bit about you from my father and brother," Gianni was saying as he let his hand drop to his side.

One eyebrow lifted. "Not flattering, I imagine."

"Not in the slightest," Gianni agreed with a grin. "But that's not important now, is it? I have what you asked for." He reached into his suit jacket and from the inner pocket pulled a cloth-wrapped item. "You can have it as soon as I have the evidence you gathered against my family."

Rico only crossed his arms over his chest and braced his feet wide apart. "Let me see the dagger first."

Gianni chuckled and shook his head. "This is what is wrong with the world today. No one trusts anymore."

Amused, Rico pointed out, "Says the thief."

"Touche, and yet it saddens me that the world has become such a cynical place."

He hadn't expected to almost like Teresa's brother, but d.a.m.ned if he didn't. "Makes stealing more difficult, does it?"

"There is that," Gianni acknowledged as he carefully unwrapped the ancient dagger he'd stolen five years before. "This...is magnificent." His gaze locked on the antiquity, he smiled as if watching a lover. "Intricate carvings, jewel-encrusted handle-but it's the history behind this piece that sings to me." He glanced at Rico. "And to you, I believe."

"Yes," Rico admitted, barely glancing at the once all important dagger. "It has been in my family for generations and we have all, at one time or another, felt the hum of history in that blade."

Gianni nodded, still studying the dagger. "When I took this from you, all I saw was its beauty. The jewels, the gold." He shrugged. "I am a mercenary man, trained to appreciate the finer things."

"That belong to others."

"As you say." Gianni shrugged that off and continued while Rico listened, oddly fascinated. This should have been a short meeting. An exchange and then a fast goodbye. Instead, Teresa's brother was acting as though they were old friends settling down for a visit.

"As I was saying," Gianni mused, looking down at the dagger in his hand, "when I first took the dagger, all I saw was its worth. But I couldn't bring myself to fence it. Couldn't sell it. It became a part of my collection and also, it became a sort of talisman."

"What do you mean?" Interested in spite of himself, Rico waited for an answer.

"As I held this dagger in my hands, for the first time in my life I felt the history of a piece." He turned it, studying it thoughtfully. "And I began to see that I had not been taking things from people. I had been stealing away pieces of their lives."

Surprised, Rico only stared at him. This was not the kind of thing he expected to hear from a professional thief.

"I, too, was shocked by this revelation," Gianni admitted with a wry smile. "It is not the sort of feeling a thief most appreciates."

"I don't think your father and brother share your philosophy."

"No." Gianni laughed and shook his head. "Not yet, anyway. But everything changes, does it not?"

He'd said that to Teresa not so long ago, Rico realized. And now all he could think was that some things would never change. He would always love her. And because he did, he realized what he had to do.

He had to let her go.

Rico had always thought that cloying cliche, "if you love something, set it free," was bull. He believed more in the "if you love something, hold on to it with both hands so you don't lose it" way of thinking. But now he understood that cliche. It tore at him to realize the hard truth, but there was no other choice for him.

Teresa had once again given up her own life for the sake of her family. She had once again made a sacrifice. The last time, he hadn't been a part of it. He had been left out of her choice altogether. Thinking back, he couldn't say what he might have done had she come to him with the truth. Would he have seen past his own anger at her lies? She'd kept so much from him back then. But had he been any more honest? They had fallen in love so quickly and their marriage was so new they hadn't had time to build the bridges of trust that would have seen them through bad times.

So. Would he have had her family arrested five years ago? He didn't know. He only knew what he should do now.

"Your ultimatum," Gianni said quietly, "had my family scrambling all over Europe to find me."

Rico laughed shortly and brought his mind back to the conversation at hand. "Your father thinks you should answer your phone."

Gianni grinned. "If I did that, he would call me more often."

"I feel the same about my own family at times." A shame they were meeting as enemies, since Rico had the feeling the two of them might have been friends.

"Well, then, we two have some business to conduct," Gianni said, holding the dagger so that the overhead light caught the blade and glinted like diamonds. "Here is your property. And now I would like to see this evidence my father claims you hold."

Rico nodded, walked to his desk and unlocked the top drawer. He took out a thick manila envelope and carried it to Gianni. Handing it over, he said, "That is everything I collected over five years." As a compliment of sorts, he added, "There wasn't much to be found."

Gianni grinned. "The Corettis are not easy to catch."

"I noticed," Rico said and took the dagger when it was offered.

The heavy gold weight felt solid, right, in his hands. He was relieved to finally have it back and yet...it felt like a hollow victory. He had set his sights on the return of his property and hadn't looked beyond that. Now he could see that retrieving his dagger could cost him the woman he loved.

Gianni opened the envelope and flipped through a few of the pages. He whistled low and long before looking up at Rico. "What you have here would have seen me and my family locked away for some time." He tucked the pages back inside and slapped the envelope against his palm. "Tell me, would you really have done it? Seen Teresa's family jailed?"

Setting the dagger down onto his desk, Rico pushed one hand through his hair and looked at the other man, standing quietly, watching him. It was past time for complete honesty, he thought. With himself as well as everyone else.

"Had you asked me that question two weeks ago," he said, "the answer would have been yes. Absolutely. Now..."

Gianni's eyes warmed as he smiled. "You do love her. My sister."

"I do."

"Which makes what I have to say next that much more uncomfortable. You have to release her from this bargain you and she struck."

"I know."

Gianni's eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. "You surprise me. I'd thought I would have to...convince you to uphold your end of the bargain."

"The bargain has nothing to do with this. Letting her go is the right thing to do," Rico said, a sharp stab of pain accompanying those words.

The thought of losing her broke his heart. But if he kept her here, he would never really have her. If she left...there might be a chance for them later.

"My father was right about you," Gianni said softly. "You are a dangerous man."

Before he could figure out what the other man meant by that, his office door flew open and Teresa stormed inside. She was wearing her white chef's uniform and as she slammed the door behind her, she s.n.a.t.c.hed the hat from her head and tossed it aside.

"Teresa," her brother said warmly, "you look wonderful."

"Gianni, I'm not leaving," she said flatly.

"How did you know he was here?" Rico asked.

"Your a.s.sistant called to tell me when Gianni arrived. I had a souffle in the oven and couldn't get away until just now."

Rico sighed and shook his head. She had friends all over the hotel and they were apparently willing to spy for her.