“What about your family? You said you’re afraid they’ve caught on.”
“I’ll find some other way to convince them I’m Felix.”
“Like how?”
“If there’s a will, there’s a way—I’ll go rob a bank or set up some fake murders or something.”
I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, but regardless…“Paolo, it sounds really dangerous.”
“It is. But this is what I signed up for. You just need to trust me.” He paused and stared at me with those fierce eyes. “And you need to say you’ll take me back.”
I flung my arms around his neck and pushed my mouth to his. His soft, full lips, surrounded by the familiar roughness of his unshaven face, were like heaven. Masculine and sweet, rough and sensual.
Paolo hesitated for a moment, perhaps thinking over if this was the right choice for us, but then the man I knew—insatiable, sexually ravenous, and unapologetically dominating in bed—took over. He kissed me back in a wild explosion. His lips and tongue devoured my mouth with sensual movements while his hands reached down and scooped me into his arms. I didn’t say a word. All I wanted was to feel the weight of him on top of me, to feel the hard heat of him pressing between my legs and sliding deep inside.
He carried me to the small bedroom, laid me down onto the narrow mattress, and pulled off my shorts. He paused for a moment to stare hungrily at my most intimate spot before quickly shedding his jeans and laying his body over mine. He pushed up my T-shirt with one hand while his lips made the trip down to my breasts. He kneaded and sucked each one as if he’d thirsted for them. Then one of his hands made the trip down between our bodies, and I felt his rough, thick fingers stroking me, testing me. I knew I was ready for him. I had been from the moment we’d woken up on this bed, even after the cold shower.
His deep, sensual groan signaled that he’d found what he’d been hoping for at my entrance: a welcome invitation for his hard, thick shaft.
Still kneading my breast, his frenzied mouth moved back to mine while he settled himself between my thighs, gripping his cock and positioning it for that swift thrust he knew I liked.
I felt so lost in him when we were like this. And I knew if he ever left me again, I wouldn’t recover. But my fear of the future was completely overridden by my hunger for him.
Holding the tip of himself against my pulsing, needy entrance, Paolo stopped for a moment and looked into my eyes. “I love you, Dakota.” He began to thrust, and I closed my eyes, wanting to lose myself in the sinful bliss. Then the jeans on the floor began to vibrate and ring.
“Cazzo,” Paolo hissed.
He blew out a breath as if fighting his urge to ignore the phone. “I have to get that.”
I nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Just hurry.”
I immediately missed the heat of his body the moment he pulled away and went for the ringing cell phone.
“Pronto.” He listened for a moment, and I watched his face transform from that man filled with potent lust and emotion into a block of ice.
My heart pounded inside my chest as he spoke to whoever it was in some strange Slavic-sounding language. No, I hadn’t known he spoke…whatever, but it didn’t surprise me. The man spoke ten languages that I knew of and probably spoke ten more.
He ended the call with little more than five words and then began rubbing his chin.
“What’s the matter?” I flipped the blanket on the bed over my exposed body. Paolo reached for his jeans and slipped them on.
“Paolo? Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“It’s a little snag. It’s fine.”
“What do you mean?”
He adjusted himself and winced. His erection was still at full force, and I knew he didn’t want to leave, especially like that, so it had to be bad, bad news.
“It was one of our guys,” he said. “The shipment is stuck in customs.”
“And?” I asked.
“It means whoever is holding it wants more money.” He shook his head. “Cazzo! We paid them three times what they normally ask. Greedy fucking bastards.”
I couldn’t believe there was a going rate for bribing Ukrainian customs agents, but okay.
He slipped on his boots. “I have to take care of this.”
I stood from the bed, holding the blanket over my front. “Where are you going?”
“I have to see my guy that handles Ukraine.”
“Where is he?”
Paolo hesitated. “I really can’t tell you, Dakota. It’s for his safety as much as yours.”
“Okay, but is it here in Rome? Is it safe?”
He pecked me on the lips. “Yes, but—”
His cell rang again, and he looked at the number. His eyes lit up, and he answered it. “Yeah?”
He listened and then began speaking some other language. Middle Eastern. The conversation sounded agitated and angry. Like he was convincing someone what to do. After a few minutes, he hung up. “Shit. This is it.”
“The buyers?” I asked.
He nodded frantically. “They’ll be at the drop-off in two hours. I have to hurry and get those bodies released. And you are going back to the States. Right now.”
I blinked. “No, I’m not.” I wasn’t going to leave him. Not now. “I’ll wait here, and we’ll leave together.”
He smiled affectionately and cupped my cheek. “Dakota, listen to me. You have to—”
“I’m afraid if I let you out of my sight, I’ll never see you again.”
“Where is your closest safe house?” he asked.
“Chicago.” I hadn’t really had time to set anything up on this side of the Atlantic.
“I’ll be there. Just a few hours behind you.”
“No wa—”
“I’m losing time debating with you. Please, Dakota. Please, just go to your safe house, and I’ll be right behind you. I need to know you’re safe so I can concentrate on this one last thing. Then we’ll be free. I promise.”
I knew what he had to do was important, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving him one bit. “Please be careful.”
“I will.” He pulled me into his warm body and kissed me deeply. It took every ounce of strength I had not to grab hold of him and beg him to leave with me right then and there. But that would not help him.
He pulled away, went for his shirt, and pulled it over his head. “I’ll drop you on the way.”
“Drop me where?”
“There’s a tour bus that can take you all the way to Naples. From there you can get a flight to London and then Chicago.”
“Will it be safe?” I asked, remembering that he’d told me people were all over the place looking for me.
“By now, they’ll think you slipped out of the city by car or something. If not, they won’t be checking tour buses or the Naples airport—it’s the wrong direction out of the country.”
He grabbed a coat and then turned to me. “Aren’t you getting dressed?”
“Oh. Yeah.” My head was filled with so many unpleasant thoughts, I didn’t know what to do. I put on my same clothes from the night before and grabbed my purse.
Paolo checked the camera feeds on his phone one last time before opening the front door and grabbing my hand. Once outside and safely in a taxi, I told Paolo the address for the apartment in Chicago. We pulled up to a little hotel with a bus stop out front, just off of a main thoroughfare, and he handed me a wad of cash.
“Promise,” he said, “you’ll get on that bus and not stop until you’re safely in Chicago.”
I nodded. “Promise me you’ll be right behind me.”
He cupped my face with both hands and kissed me deeply. “I promise. And when I see you again, we’ll finish what we started.”
“Sex. Really? At a time like this, you’re thinking of sex?” I was too, actually.
A sly smile spread over his lips. “When it comes to you, I’m always thinking of sex; but I was referring to our life together. I think I owe you a wedding.”
“Oh.” I grinned. I didn’t think it was possible to love anyone more than I loved Paolo.
He kissed me quickly one last time, and I hopped from the taxi. As I watched Paolo ride away, my stomach tied into nauseating knots. I wanted this so badly. I wanted us to have a life. But I just wouldn’t believe it until I saw it. Because every damned time things seemed to be going in one direction, they would take a sharp turn.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I looked at the schedule posted on the side of the bus stop and saw that a tour bus came every two hours, but I had no clue what time it was. I dug through my nearly empty purse—I’d left almost everything behind in that funky hotel—but Paolo had returned my credit card and passport. That’s all I pretty much needed. Except…
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. That knot in my stomach turned into a fifty-pound lead weight. I’d forgotten to swap out identities. Paolo had nabbed me before I’d gotten the chance to go to my locker at the train station. And now that my Leah Gablenz “reporter” identity was blown and every Abelli along with anyone on their payroll would be looking for me, I wouldn’t get far. The moment my passport was scanned in Naples, someone somewhere would be notified. That’s how these people worked.
Goddammit! I was faced with risking my neck to get my backup stuff from the train station or getting taken in Naples.
Okay. You probably have a ninety-percent chance of getting picked up at the airport with your Leah passport. But you have a fifty-fifty chance of getting to your locker without being spotted. If what Paolo had said was correct, that the “family” probably assumed I’d already slipped out of Italy, then my chances were even better.
I had to go for the locker.
I raised my hand into the air and an empty taxi immediately pulled over.
Twenty minutes later and four blocks from the train station, I walked into a small tourist shop—the kind that sold everything from snacks and postcards to film (who used that anymore?) and sunglasses. I bought the largest pair of “mommy glasses” I could find and a straw fedora. I tucked my very recognizable red hair inside and prayed for the best. Because this time, I didn’t have a backup plan. If someone spotted me, I was toast.
I walked to the station, mingling casually with the flow of pedestrians toward the turnstiles, making a quick detour into the bathroom. I waited for a few moments to catch my breath and then beelined it to the locker area. I tried not to look suspicious, because there were police all over the place, but I had to keep an eye out over my shoulders to watch for anyone approaching. To my surprise, there was nobody.
Feeling rather proud, I punched in my code and snagged my little shopping bag filled with a credit card, a passport, and a few hundred euros. I shut the door and turned, slamming my body into a large man.
I looked up and saw a familiar pair of green eyes.
“Horse? What are you doing here?”
He looked pissed. “Princess Leah, so nice to see you again.” He grabbed my elbow and began pulling me with him.
“Horse,” I hissed, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m taking you to see my uncle.”
I pulled back and dug in my heels. For the record, Horse was not as large as Paolo—no, I wasn’t talking about his manhood, although I really doubted Horse’s claim to fame, anyway—but he still outweighed me by a lot. He could easily drag me with him, in which case the police would likely interfere and I might end up in the hands of the Abellis regardless, because they just happened to have police “friends.”
“I’m not going with you, Horse. So you can either kill me here or let me go.”
“Or I can drag you, kicking and screaming.”
“Why, Horse? Why do this for them? You’re not a bad person.”
“No. But you are,” he said.
“Wait. What?”
“Don’t pretend, Dakota. We know who you are. And now Felix is missing. Did you kill him because he figured it out? Or does your father have him?”
So, because Paolo hadn’t shown his face for a day or so, they thought I’d taken him? The good news was Horse didn’t seem to be doubting that Paolo was Felix. On the other hand, there were so many lies being spun that if I said the wrong thing, I could really make a mess.
Shit. What do I do? I had to say something.
Deflect.
“Okay, Horse. You think that my father has Felix, and that I helped. But you’re missing the big picture.”
He looked like he wanted to throttle me.
“You are a decent human being. And you love your family regardless of who they are and what they’ve done. But do they love you? Will they put you first? Because you’re working hard to build a life for yourself, and someday you’re going to meet a special woman you can’t live without. Do you think she’ll be safe around your family? I would have been raped by your dear Uncle Alberto if Felix hadn’t shown up. So think. Think long and hard, Horse, who you’re fighting for, because your family won’t protect you or your wife or your children. And God forbid you have a daughter. She won’t make it past fifteen without someone putting his disgusting hands on her.”
I could see the wheels turning in Horse’s head.
“And what about the day you have everything,” I added, “and your uncle Giuseppe makes you do some favor for him that lands you in prison?”
“Enough, Dakota.” He held up his hand. “I will not betray them for you.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking you to let me leave. Pretend you never saw me here.”
“What about Felix? Do I pretend your father didn’t take him? Or isn’t torturing him right now?”
Poor Horse. His family didn’t deserve his love.
I looked him straight in the eyes. “I don’t know where Felix is. That’s the honest truth, Horse. But I can tell you that you need to run. Get as far away from here and your family as possible—what they’ve done—” I paused and shook my head. “You’re a good person. Just get out.”
“They made the deal with those fucking terrorists, didn’t they?” he seethed.
I held my poker face, but my jaw dropped on the inside. He knows.
“Cazzo! The family voted, and they went ahead anyway.” He shook his head. “I knew my uncle wouldn’t keep his word. I knew it.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“The entire family made a decision to stop helping those people. In fact, we’ve been moving all of our businesses slowly over to legitimate investments. My uncle said he wanted to cleanse our family name before he died. But it was all a bunch of bullshit.”
“I’m so sorry, Horse.”
“Don’t be. They made their choices, and now they have to live with them.” He turned to leave.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“To see my uncle Giuseppe.”
“You can’t do that. You have to let everything play out.”
“What?” He laughed bitterly. “You think they’ll get arrested? You think they won’t buy their way out of any charges?”
“I’m not talking about that. They need to…” Shit. Shit. Shit. I really didn’t want to tell him anything I knew. This was about more than letting this deal happen and catching the buyers. “Please, just trust me. You can’t say anything. It’s important. More important than anyone going to jail.”
He looked at me with those big green eyes, calculating. “I want to see your father.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I want to make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I want him to guarantee me that this will all end—they go to jail, every last one of them.”
“Uhhh…Okay. I’ll make it happen. I mean, the meeting.” I didn’t know how, but a meeting wasn’t impossible.
“Good,” he said.
“But it might take a week or so. I don’t know where he is.” Although, I had a feeling my father was somewhere near. How could he not be?
“You have my number?” Horse asked.
>
“I lost it.”
He shook his head at me and then handed me another card. “How will I know you’ll keep your word?”
“You don’t, but…” I wondered what would happen to Horse if he stayed put. Wouldn’t he get tangled in the weeds with the whole lot of them? “Come with me.”
He looked at me, clearly confused.
“No. I’m serious. Come with me. Leave Rome. Leave your family and start over. Find somewhere safe to live and…well, live.” That was something I could give him.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ll help you set up anywhere you want—new life, money to start off, whatever.”
“And what do you want in return?” he asked.
“Nothing—wait; I do want you to get away from your family. No more contact. At least for a while. Then it’s your choice if you stick with it.”
“Why would you do that for me?” He narrowed those big green eyes.
“Because I know exactly what it’s like to be a part of a family who puts you last, that despite your unconditional love, they can’t be trusted. And I believe you’re a good person who deserves better.”
He pondered my words for a moment. “I need to think about it.”
What was there to think about? On the other hand, I really did need to get the hell out of Dodge, and it wasn’t like I could drag the big man with me. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and if you want my help, just say ‘This isn’t Ricardo. You have the wrong number.’ I’ll have everything sent overnight to the Excelsior in Naples to…Mr. Bonanza.” I knew the hotel, because I’d seen a picture on the Internet. I really needed to start traveling for real.
He laughed. “Mr. Bonanza?”
“I have no idea why I said that.”
“My grandmother used to watch a show called Bonanza. She said she liked the shoot-outs.”
“Why doesn’t that shock me?” I looked up at the giant clock above the turnstiles. “I have to go.”
He nodded and dipped his head to kiss my cheek. “May the force be with you, princess.”
“Thanks. You, too, Mr. Bonanza.”
When I rode away in a taxi, I flashed a glance over my shoulder. Horse still stood there staring at me, a deeply conflicted look on his face, and once again, I found myself wondering if I’d made the right decision or made another mess of things.