Pasta Imperfect - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,89

told you, darling, at the gaming table, I can't seem to lose."

"Did you win enough to buy a plane ticket to Iowa?"

"More than enough. How does seven hundred thousand sound to you?"

Delete three zeroes. Divide by two. "Three hundred fifty dollars? I don't know if that'll get you all the way to Iowa, but it might if you try Priceline dot com. You can get some real bargains with them."

"Not lire, darling. I did the conversion for you. Seven hundred thousand American dollars."

"EXCUSE ME?"

A female voice whined loudly behind me. "So if all these deaths were really just accidents, do you think we're safe to continue the tour?"

"That would be my recommendation," Duncan replied. "Marla and Gillian will rejoin us tomorrow, then the rest of Italy awaits. I'd hate to say good-bye to all of you before I had a chance to finish what I started." He brushed lightly against my back, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine.

"Seven hundred thousand dollars?" I sputtered into the phone.

Etienne laughed in his beautiful French/German/Italian accent. "That's why I -- KKRRRKK."

I sprinted toward the front desk to see if the reception was any better over there. "Etienne? Can you hear me?"

"We'll be checking out tomorrow at ten o'clock," Duncan announced, as people unfolded their limbs and eased to their feet, "so be down here in the lobby ready to board the bus by 9:50. The memorial service that Philip Blackmore arranged for Sylvia will be held at eight o'clock tomorrow morning in one of the minor chapels of the Duomo, so those of you who'd like to pay your respects to all our recently departed guests can do so then."

I clutched the phone in my hands and strangled it. "Can you hear me now?" I screamed at it.

Guests wandered past me, giving me odd looks as they made their way back to their rooms. I saw several people in the Iowa contingent congratulate Jackie, then a group of them headed out the front door. I pressed the phone to my ear again, relieved when I heard the faint tones of Etienne's voice coming through the line.

"...birthday gathering jogged my memory and reminded me what I should have asked you in Ireland last month. I don't know how I -- KKRRRK -- as important as this, but I need to know, darling. Will you -- KRRRRRRKKKKK!"

"Yes!" I shouted into the phone. "I will! Whatever you're asking me! The answer is yes!"

KRRRRRRRKKKKK!

"Damn!" I screamed. I squeezed the phone. I punched buttons. I shook it in my fist. I pressed it to my ear again.

KRRRRRRRKKKKK!

"Bad connection?" asked Duncan, sauntering over to me.

"He's on a train," I said, refusing to give up. "Maybe he's going through a tunnel or something."

He leaned casually against the front desk, regarding me with his dark eyes. "If he's on his way back to Lucerne, he's a fool."

"He's Swiss. He's very efficient and...and duty-bound." But no matter what he was, he wasn't on the other end of the phone line anymore. I stuffed the phone back into my bag. "He'll call back," I said cheerily, hiding my disappointment.

The corners of Duncan's mouth lifted imperceptibly. "Ofcourse he will. In the meantime, how about having a drink with me?"

I was a woman who loved men in all their various sizes, shapes, and incarnations, but at the moment, Duncan Lazarus was not the man I wanted to be around. "Thanks for the offer, but I really should start throwing things back into my suitcase."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "That's right. I've seen the size of your suitcase. You probably should have started yesterday. I don't suppose you need any help? I'm a natural at organizing, folding and...filling empty spaces."

I narrowed one eye at him. "It seems you're a natural at just about everything."

"Not everything. Apparently I need to work on my technique for convincing beautiful women that I'm a good catch. You suppose my antenna is defective? I always seem to fall for the ones who are taken. But like I said before, we still have a lot of days left on this tour. I'm not prepared to give up quite yet."

Oh, God. Why me? I scanned the now empty lobby, shaking my head in disbelief and thinking that I could actually feel egg dripping from my face. "I can't believe how off base I was about everything."

"You had at least one thing right. Gabriel Fox didn't want romances shoved down his throat anymore. That's why he ditched us in Pisa. He told the