Dangerous Kiss

  * * *

  Irena hadn’t told Price she was coming back to the courtroom on the second day. But, then again, he hadn’t questioned her as to why she wasn’t in the house when Consuella had been attacked and the house robbed. She didn’t care. She just knew that she had to be in court to watch what was going on.

  Fortunately, the police being at the house had not been about her, although she’d worried about it all night. What she didn’t like was the newspapers and tabloids dragging her name up. If they started to investigate . . . if they got a sniff of the real truth . . . she would be deported for sure.

  Irena Kopistani had died long ago. If they found that out . . .

  She shook her head and stared at the judge, a stern-looking man with white hair and a neat goatee. What if he sentenced Mila to a long jail term? Or even worse, what if he sentenced her to death? It was possible.

  Irena took a deep breath. She’d made a decision. She was going to tell Price the truth about his daughter. Maybe then Mila would stand a chance.

  * * *

  Later in the day, Duke Browning slid into the back of the courtroom, having paid a member of the public for their seat. It had occurred to him that he should get a look at Mila Kopistani. He wanted to see this person who shared Maybelline’s cell. He wanted to study this girl who was threatening his precious sister.

  She wasn’t as pretty as Maybelline, but he had to admit she had something. Kind of a tough, sexy quality that he found quite appealing.

  He decided that when and if they called her to the stand, he wanted to be there. He was keeping his eye on this one.

  Little did she know that the man sitting at the back of the courtroom was preparing to help her. Later that day, he would get rid of Lennie Golden for her, the prosecution’s key witness.

  And when he did, and she found herself free, he expected her to be suitably grateful.

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Carlo had not expected Isabella to come back into his life. Ah . . . Isabella. Such an exciting beauty for one so young. Twenty-two years old, with delicate features and a ballerina’s body, she was his one true love. She was also the reason he’d been banished from Italy, thanks to the death of her eighty-year-old husband. Every finger had pointed towards him because the husband had died under mysterious circumstances. But nobody had any way to prove he was involved.

  However, instead of Isabella bonding with Carlo after her husband’s death, she’d run off with an overweight opera star.

  It had infuriated Carlo beyond control. He had wanted to punish her, but there was nothing he could do. And then he’d been banished to England.

  Now, suddenly, Isabella was back in his life. One phone call and he was ready to do anything she wanted, for Isabella was the only woman who had power over him.

  ‘I’m leaving Mario,’ she’d told him over the phone. ‘I hear that you are married.’

  ‘It means nothing,’ he’d said.

  ‘We have much to discuss,’ she’d said. ‘When can I see you?’

  Since Brigette was safely tucked away in the hunting lodge, he decided he would take a few days to visit Isabella at her vacation house in Sardinia.

  ‘Where are you going?’ his mother had demanded.

  ‘I have business to attend to,’ he’d said.

  ‘What business?’

  ‘It’s personal.’

  His mother had looked at him with disgust. She was furious that he had married a foreigner. Even more furious that the American girl was pregnant with his baby.

  ‘You have married a cheap whore,’ she’d said, at the time of his marriage.

  ‘No, Mama,’ he’d replied. ‘I have married one of the richest women in the world. I will get us money for this place. We will live like kings again.’

  ‘You never do anything right,’ his mother had complained. ‘You might be handsome, but you’re useless.’

  In all of his thirty-one years he had never heard a word of praise from his mother’s lips.

  Without giving a second thought to how Brigette was doing all by herself in the middle of the countryside, he got on a plane and flew to Sardinia. The few days he spent with Isabella convinced him that there was no other woman in the world for him.

  ‘Why did you leave me?’ he asked.

  ‘I was foolish. Now it is time for us to be together.’

  ‘I have a wife,’ he said.

  ‘Divorce her,’ she said.

  ‘I have a very rich wife.’

  Isabella’s interest had immediately perked up. ‘A rich wife. This is good, because my inheritance is not as big as I thought.’

  ‘Well,’ Carlo said, ‘if we play this right, and I stay with this woman perhaps a year or so, I should be able to come away with a fortune.’

  ‘Or she could have an unfortunate . . . accident,’ Isabella said. ‘Like my husband . . .’

  ‘Your husband was an old man.’

  ‘We need to be together, Carlo,’ she said, encouraging him, ‘but we both know we cannot be together with no money. We have expensive tastes, and neither of us cares to be without the things that make us happy.’

  Isabella had a point. ‘Leave it to me,’ he said. ‘I will work on getting a sum of money that will keep us happy for ever.’

  ‘Do that,’ Isabella said. ‘Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to move on.’

  * * *

  Brigette was exhausted. It seemed as though she’d been riding the bike for hours. Perhaps making her own way out of there was a stupid idea. Carlo was right: the hunting lodge was totally isolated and now she was lost. She’d followed the dirt road as far as she could, until eventually it had ended at the edge of a thickly wooded area. Obviously, somewhere along the way, she had taken a wrong turn.

  She hadn’t realized how weak she was. Two hours out and she was ready to collapse. After losing the baby she’d bled nonstop for twenty-four hours. Not only had it frightened her, it had weakened her even more than the excruciating pain she’d gone through with the drug withdrawal.

  She was completely lost. There were no other houses in sight, nothing but bushes and trees and the mud road she was trapped on.

  She got off the bike, leaned it against a tree, and sat on the damp ground. This didn’t seem possible. It was like being in the wilderness. And on top of everything else the sky was darkening and a drizzle of rain was starting to fall.

  She drank some bottled water, trying to decide what to do next. Without a cellphone, or any other means of communication, she was stranded.

  After a while, she got up and climbed back on the bike. There was only one thing to do, and that was to head back in the direction she’d come from.

  * * *

  Boogie decided that maybe he should have brought the old man with him, because Lorenzo was right, the Vittis’ hunting lodge was impossible to find. He’d been driving for hours before locating the turn off the main highway that would eventually lead him to the dirt road that would take him to the hunting lodge. But it seemed there were more twists and turns and more side-roads that led nowhere.

  Boogie stopped the car and studied the crudely drawn map again. He was determined to find the place before nightfall. It couldn’t be that difficult.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  In spite of herself, Lucky was excited. She’d been having all these crazy thoughts about Lennie – divorcing him, starting a new life, maybe even getting together with Alex. But if she was truthful with herself, she knew that Lennie and she were destined to be together for ever.

  She smiled to herself. Later she would meet him at the house he planned to rent for Claudia and the boy. And that was a nice thing for him to do, a temporary solution. Lennie had good principles, and at least he was having her look at the house, making her part of his decision. Yes, if he put Claudia and the boy in a house of their own, it would certainly make things easier. She wasn’t exactly ecstatic about it, but at least she was learning to accept it.

  Maybe. She’d see. It would
depend on his actions. Lennie was his own man, she’d always respected that about him. He’d never let her take control. Something she found quite easy to do.

  She smiled to herself again. God, she’d missed him. She hadn’t realized quite how much until she was with him.

  Hmm, she thought. If they could get through this, they could get through anything.

  * * *

  It was the second day of the trial and he still hadn’t been called, so Lennie was able to slip away a few minutes early.

  He called Claudia from the car. ‘I’m taking you to see the house I’ve found for you and Leonardo,’ he said. ‘Be downstairs.’

  He had it all planned. He would show Claudia the house, drop her back at the hotel, and return to meet Lucky. That way everybody would be happy.

  He felt good about Lucky coming to see him that morning. He knew her doing that meant she was almost ready to forgive him. Not that she had anything to forgive him for. It was something that had happened long ago now. However, he couldn’t blame her for being angry and upset that Claudia had turned up with his son. It wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence.

  He stopped for a burger on his way to the hotel, suddenly finding himself ravenously hungry. Penelope McKay had told him that they would probably be calling him to the witness stand tomorrow. He was looking forward to telling his story, getting it out there for public consumption. The media were completely ridiculous. It was about time the truth was heard.

  When he arrived at the Chateau Marmont, Claudia and Leonardo were waiting dutifully. He ran inside and picked up the house keys from the desk.

  Claudia stood beside the car. She looked like she belonged in an old-fashioned Italian movie, with her voluptuous body, flowing chestnut hair and Mediterranean complexion. She shouldn’t have any trouble at all finding a man.

  Leonardo was wearing his new jeans and a Batman T-shirt. He grinned at Lennie. Lennie grinned back: he was getting fond of the kid. Maybe if he could talk Lucky into it Leonardo could spend some time with them.

  Claudia jumped into the car. ‘I’m so excited,’ she said.

  ‘You should be,’ he said. ‘This house is costing me a fortune. Wait till you see it.’

  He felt good because at least he was doing something for her. He would make sure she was looked after, had enough money, and found a job.

  Surely that couldn’t piss Lucky off?

  * * *

  Outside the hotel, Duke sat in his car watching and waiting. He had this thing about waiting, prolonging the moment. It was like great foreplay. Never rush anything. Always see how long you can string it out.

  He’d watched Lennie devour a hamburger, then followed him to the hotel, where a woman and a small boy waited outside.

  As soon as Duke set eyes on the woman, he knew he had to have her.

  She was the most luscious-looking piece he’d ever seen.

  And she would be his. For an hour or two.

  He was entitled to some fun.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  ‘There’s been a big mistake,’ Mila said, her pointed face flushed with anger.

  ‘What mistake is that?’ Maybelline answered, chewing her hair.

  ‘Your fucking brother didn’t deliver the gun today.’

  Maybelline shrugged. ‘Not my fault,’ she said coolly.

  ‘What do you mean, not your fault?’ Mila exploded. ‘We had an agreement, a bargain. He broke into the Washington house, raped the maid, stole everything he could get his hands on, and now he hasn’t delivered my gun. Nor have I heard anything about Lennie Golden yet.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Maybelline said, still calm. ‘He’s taking care of Lennie Golden tonight.’

  ‘I hope he does. Otherwise everyone will be sorry.’

  ‘Don’t threaten me,’ Maybelline snapped, her baby face contorted with anger.

  ‘And what about my gun?’ Mila said. ‘My lawyer’s been waiting for it all day! He says that if he’d had the gun before, I wouldn’t even have to be locked up like this.’

  ‘I’ll speak to Duke,’ Maybelline said.

  ‘I thought you already did.’

  ‘Didn’t know the gun was so important.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Mila said. ‘Of course you knew.’

  ‘You’re making me sorry I ever met you,’ Maybelline said.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘My brother doesn’t have to jump for anybody, especially not you.’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ Mila said. ‘The reason your brother got into Price Washington’s house was because of me.’

  ‘If I have to hear you say that one more time,’ Maybelline said, ‘I’m gonna scream. He’ll hit Lennie Golden tonight. So shut the fuck up.’

  ‘That’s all very well,’ Mila griped, ‘but I need my gun, too. And if he doesn’t hit Lennie Golden tonight, and I don’t get my fucking gun, I’m going to the authorities.’

  Maybelline stared at her. ‘Do you understand who you’re fucking with?’ she said. ‘Do you understand?’

  Mila turned her back and walked over to the corner of the cell. She’d had it with this baby-faced cow. Had it with her and her stupid brother. If nothing happened by tomorrow, she was telling her lawyer about the break-in.

  Fuck them! They were screwing with the wrong person. She’d fix them both.

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  By Carlo’s reckoning, Brigette would be over the worst. He’d left her alone because it really was her problem, and he wanted no scandal about his wife. This way there were no witnesses, no doctors or nurses saying what a bastard he was to have gotten her hooked in the first place. Who knew what she would have told them?

  Now that she was straight, he’d still have control. She was his wife, his pregnant wife at that.

  He knew how to tap into Brigette and what she needed. She was the original poor little rich girl with no mother to guide her, an absentee father, and a desperation to be loved.

  The truth was that he, Count Carlo Vittorio Vitti, was her saviour. He was the only man who’d been able to give her what she wanted, which was discipline.

  She’d probably be mad at him when he arrived back at the hunting lodge, but so what? There was nothing she could do about it.

  Now that he had Isabella again, he was a different man. He had a goal to work towards – not just getting Brigette’s money, but getting enough so that he and Isabella could be together, for she was the only woman who was his match.

  He often thought about their first meeting. She with her elderly husband, he with one of the more desirable women in Rome. It had been at a party. They’d had sex in the bathroom. Frantic, anonymous sex. She’d laughed, and gone back to her husband’s side and kissed him on the mouth, and winked at Carlo behind her husband’s back. It was then that he’d known they were two of a kind. So when she’d asked, he’d helped her get rid of the miserable old man. And where had that got him? Exactly nowhere. Two days after the funeral, Isabella had run off with the fat opera singer.

  ‘I only did it to take suspicion away from us,’ she’d explained, ‘because if people saw us together, they would have surely known it was you who killed my husband.’

  ‘I didn’t kill him,’ he’d said. ‘I assisted you.’

  Isabella had laughed. ‘Whatever.’ She had the most seductive laugh in the world.

  As soon as he arrived back in Rome, he got in his car and set off to bring Brigette home.

  He had a new plan now, and that plan was to travel with her to New York and get her to transfer ten million dollars into a Swiss bank account in his name.

  And if she refused . . . she’d be very sorry indeed.

  * * *

  Brigette was getting nowhere fast. Exhausted and weak, she navigated a series of dirt roads that led nowhere except into heavily wooded areas. The rain had turned from a drizzle to a steady downpour, and she was soaked through and freezing cold. She started to despair that she was ever going to find her way back to the hunti
ng lodge.

  It occurred to her that soon it would be dark, and then what?

  She began to panic, pedalling her way to nowhere. Until suddenly she careened into a tree-trunk and was propelled off the bike, hitting her head on the ground.

  She lay to the side of the mud road, unconscious.

  And the rain poured down.

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  Claudia ran around the house like an excited child discovering Disneyland for the first time. ‘It’s wonderful, Lennie,’ she gasped. ‘Much too grand for Leonardo and me. We can’t possibly live here.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, pleased she was so thrilled. ‘I’ve rented it for a year. By that time you will have decided what you want to do.’

  ‘But, Lennie, it is so big.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I was thinking . . . you talked about your relatives in Sicily . . . maybe somebody could come visit, a sister or something.’

  ‘My family, they do not talk to me,’ she said sadly. ‘When I had the baby I was a black sheep . . . Is that how you say it in America?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded. ‘But if you call your mother, somebody – the circumstances are different now, you’re in America. Surely they’d want to come?’

  ‘I don’t know. Lennie, I wish you could live here with us.’

  ‘I told you, Claudia,’ he said seriously, ‘it’s impossible. I have my wife, and my own children.’

  ‘But Leonardo is your son, Lennie. He was born out of love. You and I, when we were together, it was so . . . special.’

  ‘Claudia,’ he said, trying to let her down gently, ‘I’m taken. I have the woman for me.’

  ‘I understand, Lennie. But sometimes I dream . . .’

  ‘You’ll meet somebody else,’ he said, veering away from a dangerous subject. ‘You’re a beautiful woman. There’s plenty of guys who’d give anything to be with a woman like you.’

  ‘You think I am beautiful, Lennie?’ she asked.

  He looked into her glowing face. ‘Oh, c’mon, Claudia, you know you are.’