Breathe, she told herself. Breathe.
On the other side of the counter, the man cursed at Royce.
She allowed her rear end to slide to the floor, then pressed her hands outward to gauge the space. It was double the distance of her hips from the counter to the wall. Plenty of room. She took another deep breath and realized she’d smacked her elbow as she’d crouched. She looked sideways to see what she’d hit and saw that her hand was braced inside an open cubbyhole. The working side of the counter didn’t have cabinets, as she’d assumed. Instead, open sections held menus, a calculator, and a plethora of pens and notepads. Cutlery wrapped in cloth napkins occupied half-moon sections of a plastic tray. A hobo-style handbag the color of dark red brick was wedged beside the tray. Basia’s, she assumed. It was only partially zipped and a cell phone poked out of the top.
Daniela wrapped her fingers around the edge of the shelf holding the cutlery and tried to block out the noise and the darkness by focusing on the ornate case protecting Basia’s cell phone, the gleam of the handbag’s gold zipper, and the texture of its pebbled leather.
Sweat rose along her nape, then over her back and scalp.
A shadow fell over her. She raised her head, realizing that Royce had moved to the end of the counter, blocking her exit. His eyes remained focused on the restaurant’s front door. “You talk to Davis?”
“Yes. He said assistance is on the way.”
“Everyone’s in the kitchen?”
“Yes. They..ah…they don’t know.”
Breathe. Think of clouds. Sky. Space. She swallowed, trying to imagine herself outdoors, in an open meadow. Anything to fight the lung-crushing sensation of where she was. The walls were not moving. They weren’t.
She needed to keep her head clear, not only for her safety, but for Royce’s.
Another grunt came from the man in the leather jacket, drawing her focus. Though red marks punctuated Royce’s left cheekbone and dark brown grit streaked his shirt, as if he’d brushed against a building or a dirty automobile, Royce held the man’s arms in place, with the wrists trapped uncomfortably at his rear belt line. Much as she wanted to know what happened, the set of Royce’s jaw indicated that Daniela should remain down and quiet, that the danger hadn’t yet passed.
As soon as the thought entered her mind, the man lunged backward in an attempt to slam the back of his head into Royce’s chin. The blow was glancing, but the shift in weight forced Royce to adjust his grip. The man dropped in an attempt to break free and in seconds, both men were rolling on the floor near the end of the counter. The jacketed man landed a punch to Royce’s side, but his second swing missed, and Royce drove his elbow into the man’s face with a sickening crack. Royce flipped the man, pinning him face down on the floor with both arms twisted behind his back, tighter this time. Royce ground out an expletive and angled himself in order to both control the man and have a clear view of the front door.
In Italian and English, Royce ordered the man to stay still, though given the hard hit, Daniela doubted Leather Jacket had any fight left.
Royce’s voice was surprisingly controlled as he addressed her. “Anyone enter or leave while I was out?”
She shook her head, then pressed a palm to her chest to steady herself. It physically hurt to inhale.
You’re being an idiot, she thought. This was all in her mind. No one had touched her. She’d barely moved. Her lungs shouldn’t burn.
“Daniela?”
She realized that with Royce’s attention riveted on the man and the door, he couldn’t see her. “No,” she said aloud. “No one came or left.”
The man on the floor moaned, the sound morphing into a curse as the restaurant’s front door opened with a jangle. Daniela heard two males identify themselves as police, then ask, “Who’s Dekker?”
“I am. I have ID. My dinner partner is behind the counter,” he said, his voice low. “Restaurant employees are in the kitchen, through there. They don’t know what’s happening out here. Given the commotion, I expect they’ll be out any second.”
“The Canadians called us in,” one of the policemen said. “This Del Prete?”
“No. An accomplice. He was watching the door from a bench across the street while Del Prete waited for his dinner order. When I left to follow Del Prete, he tailed me, so I circled back.”
Royce released the man on the floor, who didn’t resist as one of the officers bent to arrest him.
“He hit you?” the other officer asked, coming into Daniela’s view as he gave Royce’s face the once over. “You’ll be purple tomorrow.”
“He realized I’d made him and hid in the archway of a shop a couple doors down,” Royce said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “I saw him, but not fast enough to keep him from knocking me into a wall. I brought him in here to keep from making a scene on the street.”
“What about Del Prete?”
“Gone, but his friend should be of help.”
Daniela braced her hand against one of the cubbies as the officers went through the legal steps of making the arrest, searched the man’s wallet, and called in the identification information.
The cutlery, she thought. She could distract herself with that. She focused on the bundles and started counting.
When she hit twenty-six, the thud of the kitchen door interrupted her and she heard Basia ask what was happening. Royce apologized for the disturbance, then explained that he went after the customer who’d left behind part of his order and was accosted. “Thankfully, the police have everything under control.”
“This happened on Via Vespri? No!” She tutted in disapproval, then asked, “Are you all right?”
“Fine, fine,” Royce said at the same time one of the officers promised Basia, “We’re taking him to the station now. We’ll ensure he doesn’t return.”
“Do you need a hand?” Royce asked. It took Daniela longer than it should have to understand that the question was directed at her.
“No, I’m fine.” She felt Royce’s presence at the end of the counter more than she saw it. She ripped her gaze from the cutlery bundles and used one of the shelves to lever herself from the floor. When her head cleared the top of the counter, she noticed that Basia appeared curious about the chaotic scene, but unperturbed.
Daniela doubted she looked nearly as calm. Her heart thumped so hard and fast she wondered it didn’t bruise itself whacking against the inside of her chest. It was all she could do not to put her hands on her knees and suck air like an Olympic athlete following a finish line sprint for the gold.
Royce conferred with the police for another minute, then the officers left with the man in the leather jacket, hustling him into a van. Royce turned toward Basia, who’d remained near the kitchen door. There must have been an apology in Royce’s gaze, because she waved a hand in dismissal.
“This isn’t your fault. Besides, we see everything here. An arrest is new, but no harm done,” she said, then her lips twisted and she snagged Royce’s chin between her index finger and thumb. “Except to your face. This needs ice. Sit. I’ll get some from the kitchen.”
“It’s nothing. Don’t bother with ice.”
“It’s not nothing. Stay put. You said you weren’t hurt!”
“Basia—”
“You want to eat here again, you sit with the ice. No one leaves Trattoria Safina looking like this. I still can’t believe he attacked you. I’ve never heard of anyone being robbed in this area.”
“A fluke, I suppose.”
She narrowed her eyes for a beat, then released Royce’s chin and directed a look at the street, where one officer secured the van’s rear doors while another climbed into the driver’s seat. “Are they coming back?”
“No.”
“Then we’re closed for the night.” She went to the door and flipped the lock before pulling the shades over the front door and the adjacent window. “Ovaldo can give you a ride home. Neither of you should walk.”
“We’ll compromise. I’ll sit wi
th the ice, then we’ll walk. The evening is warm enough and my belly is full of lasagna. Walking will help me digest.”
Basia made a show of rolling her eyes before pushing through the kitchen door, leaving Daniela and Royce alone for the first time since he’d bolted from the table.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Royce said, then aimed a thumb in the direction of his cheek. “This was desperation on his part and looks worse than it is.”
She smiled, though even she knew it was weak. “Maybe, but I’m glad you’re getting the ice.”
“When I’ve frozen my face long enough to satisfy Basia, we’ll go.”
“You sound like you have a destination in mind.”
“I live on a boat. It’s a fifteen-minute walk. We can relax on the deck and enjoy some fresh air before I take you back to wherever you’re staying.”
He must have sensed her hesitation, because he added, “You need a mental palate cleanser after what happened or you’ll be thinking about it all night.”
“You think you can read me that well?”
“Am I wrong?”
He wasn’t wrong. And now part of her wanted to see where he lived. A boat was unexpected. She took a deep breath and willed her heart rate to slow, letting the quiet of the restaurant wash over her. After a moment, she said, “All right. As long as it’s not too late. We both have to work tomorrow.”
“You’ll sleep better. I promise.”
Basia emerged from the kitchen, ice in hand. The smile Royce flashed Daniela’s direction before he turned to accept it set her pulse racing all over again.
Chapter 19
Royce set the bottle of bubbly water on the built-in table at Daniela’s right elbow, then eased into the deck chair on her left, a bottle of his favorite beer dangling from his fingers. Aside from returning his cell phone, she’d been quiet on the walk from the restaurant, but he hoped that her silence stemmed from a gradual drop in adrenaline, rather than discomfort.
Her eyes tracked his movement, then her attention drifted to the deck as she took in her surroundings.
In the split second before he’d accepted the bag of ice from Basia, he’d aimed a smile in Daniela’s direction. It was intended as reassurance, but that wasn’t what happened. The moment his gaze landed on her mussed hair and flushed face, desire ripped through him. His smile went from reassuring to heated. She’d recognized it, but he hadn’t caught the rest of her reaction before he’d been compelled to address Basia and her fussing.
Daniela retrieved her belongings from their table and remained out of his line of sight, making polite conversation with the staff, until Basia declared Royce fit to move.
As they left the trattoria and made their way to the marina, he’d wondered if he’d shown too much with that smile. Their dinner had become more and more intimate as the night unwound. They’d talked through his presence at the palace, and she’d trusted him enough to talk about the counterfeit handbag. She admitted she’d listened in as he’d talked to the palace historian, then placed her hand over his as she’d complimented him. It was more than kindness. There’d been attraction in that touch.
Then Del Prete showed up and everything changed.
Losing that moment with Daniela blunted the satisfaction of having a lead on the Canadian embassy case, then the silence that’d stretched between them as they’d descended the steps to the marina and he’d punched the key code at the gate had him gritting his teeth. A moonlight walk should be easy, not tense. A moment later, when he and Daniela approached the Donati, he’d offered his hand to help her step on board, half expecting her to decline. But rather than wave off the assistance, she’d placed her hand in his and smiled, providing him a shard of hope that all was not lost. Though she’d let go as soon as her feet hit the deck, it’d felt natural, and now that Royce had her beneath the stars, cold drink in hand, he was as wired as a teenager on a first date with the most beautiful girl in school.
He tipped his beer and savored the first rush of liquid over his tongue, then stole a look at Daniela. She cradled the bottle of water against her chest as she stared into the heavens. Her shoes perched on the tips of her toes, the back of her feet having escaped the heels. Her shoulders melted into the back of her seat and her breathing was indiscernible.
It was as unguarded as he’d seen her since they’d laughed together during that long walk in Cancun. It was the way he wanted her to feel with him. Relaxed. Trusting. Herself.
She angled her head and caught him studying her. He quickly dropped his gaze to her bottle. “I can scrounge a glass for that if you’d prefer. Or swap it for wine.”
“No, this is perfect. Thank you.”
He murmured a polite response before they each turned their attention to the sky. It was a peaceful night, exactly the type he’d envisioned when he’d purchased the boat. The Donati was small compared to most of the surrounding craft, a good number of which served as entertainment venues for the rich and famous when they weren’t at one of their estates, but it worked for his purposes. He didn’t want or need a wet bar, multiple staterooms, or space to accommodate clients. He had room to sleep and to eat, to store his clothes and a few books, and he had the deck, his respite from the world. He could fill his lungs with sea air, watch the passage of storm clouds, and absorb the energy of the city while remaining blissfully separate from it.
It was the ideal spot to enjoy a beer and contemplate the vastness of the universe. Rather than make him feel alone or small, allowing his mind to soar into the cosmos to ponder black holes, dark matter, and the physics of space travel brought him a sense of belonging. Of timelessness. The stress of the day became manageable in comparison, easing his passage to sleep each night.
He wondered if that’s what Daniela experienced when she looked skyward, or if she was the type to pick out a constellation or two before becoming distracted by her to do list.
He took another sip of his beer as he contemplated that. He’d dated sporadically since his return to San Rimini, but hadn’t brought any of those women here. It wasn’t a conscious decision. It had simply been easier to take them to clubs or restaurants, or to meet at their place if they wanted a night in. More space, more feminine comforts. Inviting them to the Donati never felt right.
But tonight, with Daniela D’Ambrosio, it felt right. He hoped she’d appreciate the boat as he did, for the simple lifestyle and the serenity it offered, rather than its sleek lines or glitzy surroundings.
As if on cue, a contented sigh escaped her. “Your sunsets must be spectacular.”
He smiled to himself, then pointed his beer bottle toward the western side of San Rimini’s crescent-shaped bay. “It spreads across the top of the mountains over there, but it’s almost as pretty on the opposite side of the bay, where the buildings reflect the light. All the pristine whites and beiges change to wild shades of orange and purple and the windows sparkle. When the clouds are just right, the church at the top of the hill glows.”
“The one with the double dome?”
“That’s the one. It’s the last place the sun hits before it drops behind the mountains. After that, I get the stars.”
She wiggled her hips against the lounge chair to change position, then traced a long arc through the sky with her index finger. “I can see the Milky Way. I’m surprised there isn’t too much light pollution.”
“There would be, but from this angle, the administration building at the marina entrance blocks most of the streetlights. It’s not as effective when the casinos run their spotlights on the weekends, though.”
“You’re in a good location.”
“Got lucky. I like that it’s at a corner of the walkway, so no one’s docked on the starboard side. It gives me an unobstructed view to the water in that direction. But I didn’t realize how great this spot is until I’d been here a few weeks and was invited to a party on one of the yachts in the premium area. Their sunset and city views are spectacular, but the night sky…not so much. This reminds me w
hy I used my college electives to take astrophysics classes.”
They were silent for several minutes, engrossed in the stars. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “I never wore a watch or carried a phone as a kid. Sunset was my signal to leave a friend’s house in the village or head home from wherever I’d been exploring. That’s when I knew it was time to settle in with my parents, finish homework if I still had any, and get ready for bed.”
He turned his head to watch her, sensing she had more to say. Without moving her gaze from the stars, she added, “I took those sunsets for granted. I didn’t miss them too much while I was at university, but by the time I started working at the palace and I was either indoors or surrounded by city buildings in the evenings, I did. I craved the peace. Now, when I have the opportunity to watch a sunset or look at the stars, really look at them, it feels like” —she hesitated, as if weighing what he’d think of her word choice— “it feels like it’s the universe wiping away the minutiae of the day. You know, all the events that feel like a crisis, but are temporary. It reminds me to value simpler things. Lasting things. Like family and dinner and bedtime rituals.” A light laugh escaped her. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m as giddy about streaks in the sky and the changing colors of the hills and olive trees as anyone else, but to me, sunsets have always been more.”
“Humans are wired to be near nature. This human is, anyway.” He gestured to encompass their surroundings. “I mean, look where I live. Your perspective sounds just right to me.”
He wasn’t sure what it was about Daniela, but having her beside him put him in a talkative mood. He took a long, deep drink from his bottle, then set it on the deck before leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. “When I moved back to San Rimini, I wanted a flat with a water view, somewhere I could relax in the evening and separate myself from work stress. But real estate is expensive here, even for a one-room flat that looks straight into another building. It took a bit of searching, but I found a place with a partial water view at a price I could afford because it was in terrible condition. I spent the better part of a year remodeling the place.”
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