Alberto rolled his chair between his granddaughter and Elijah. “Imelda had no intention of insulting your family, Elijah, or anyone you care about. She’s very distraught that a man we trusted betrayed our family. She gave you her word your woman would be safe with me, and we both believed it. Zorba not only betrayed us, but it appears he killed his partner as well. I apologize on behalf of our family and assure you that everything that can be done to find this man and bring him to justice is being done by my granddaughter.”

Imelda, for the first time, sent a small smile toward her grandfather. “He always reminds me of my manners. Living the way I do, running such a big business, I tend to lose the small courtesies that count. I’m sorry, Elijah.” She inclined her head like a princess.

Elijah allowed a small smile to slip out, bowing slightly in a courtly manner. “I have the same problem, but with no grandfather to remind me.”

“Please sit down and make yourselves comfortable. Your men can relax a little.” Imelda gestured toward the most comfortable chairs.

Conner, Felipe, Rio and Leonardo spread out, covering the entrances, stationing themselves where they had a good view of every direction through the windows.

“My men are the best,” Marcos said. “I like to use family, men I know who are loyal to me and mine. Men with a stake in my success.”

Imelda sank into a chair, her greedy gaze on Conner’s face, devouring him with her eyes. “You should count yourself very lucky, Marcos. Unfortunately, I have no family left other than my grandfather.” She picked up an ivory fan and coquettishly began to fan herself, using an idle indolence that was purely feigned for Conner’s benefit. She wore a skirt and blouse that showed off her figure and when she crossed her legs, allowed her thighs to show off to their best advantage.

“Come, my dear,” Alberto said. “With Elijah’s permission, we’ll go out to the garden. Bring your drink with you.” He turned his head. “Harry.”

The man came striding in, shooting Isabeau a wide smile. “He’s going to take you to his little paradise, is he? Prepare to hear a dissertation on every plant.”

“Elijah?” Isabeau turned to him.

Elijah tapped his finger on his chair and then looked at Conner, indicating he follow her to the garden before nodding his permission. Imelda looked instantly dismayed, while a wide, grateful smile curved Isabeau’s mouth. Elijah shrugged. “Neither of us will be distracted while we talk. I always find when I have someone’s full attention, there are no mistakes.”

Imelda snapped the fan closed and placed it carefully on the table. Her eyes were cool and shadowed. “You definitely have my attention, Elijah.”