He smiled back without humor. “Well, it worked for you.”
Tara paused. “And that was my mistake. Yours was not putting a bullet in Norah. A mistake that I will almost certainly have to rectify myself.”
He sneered at her. “You mean with one of your goons? The great Ms. Tara Hubert would never get her own hands dirty.”
Tara gave a small laugh. “That’s been your problem all along, Lucian. You underestimate women. You underestimated Norah and you underestimated me. I’m almost tempted to give Norah her happy ever after out of sheer admiration …except for the fact that it would mean her winning. And she doesn’t get to do that.”
“Don’t hurt her.” Really? Now you’re concerned about Norah’s health? What does it matter anymore?
Tara held out her hand and one of her men put the gun into it. She pressed the muzzle against Lucian’s forehead. “Sorry, Lucian. I’m going to have to make sure, now, that she dies a really slow, really horrific death. Painful. If you had just done what I said …”
Lucian closed his eyes. Norah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I…
Tara pulled the trigger.
When Norah had recovered enough to talk to the police, she was more than willing to tell them everything. Giacomo was with her for most of it, holding her hand and trying not to wince as she described the horrors of what had happened to her. Norah, though, was determined that both Lucian and Tara would pay for what they did.
“Obviously, I can’t prove it,” she told the detective, a tall, handsome African-American called Hollister Bean, “But I would stake my life on Tara Hubert having something to do with Carmel Price’s murder. If she could just order my murder because I got in the way of her being with Giacomo, she may well have tried to hide her affair with Lucian the same way.”
Det. Bean nodded. “It’s certainly something we should look into. It might explain that bizarre press conference she held. That pinged our radar immediately.”
Giacomo smiled grimly. “I can assure you, detective, nothing she said in that statement was remotely accurate. We were never engaged. She was never Norah’s friend.”
“Don’t worry, we believe you. Ms. Reddy, this might be a delicate matter, but the doctor’s say there was no, um, evidence of sexual assault. Is that correct?”
Norah nodded and glanced at Giacomo. “No, Lucian did not try to force himself on me, this time, at least. It was strange. He actually thought that by being nice to me, he could get me to respond to him. I knew that my only chance was to play along with him. Thankfully it never got to the point where I had to make a choice to …go that far.” She drew in a deep breath and looked again at Giacomo. “But I would have done anything to get back to you. Anything.”
She studied him as he nodded. He didn’t look away or seem angry.
“I understand, mio caro.”
She didn’t know why it was important that she tell him that; after all, she hadn’t slept with Lucian—hadn’t had to, thank god. But she wanted him to know she would have done everything to get home to him alive. How much she would sacrifice for his love. Giacomo touched her cheek tenderly.
Det. Bean nodded, watching them. “Well, after you escaped, we think he tried to pursue you but gave up. The motel room where you were held was emptied, but we found a helluva lot of forensics. We’re alerting every field office in the country. We’ll find him.”
“What about Tara?”
“Obviously we’ll bring her in for questioning, but unless we can definitively tie her to your abduction, or Mrs. Price’s killing …”
“Lucian will testify against her,” Norah was convinced. “They aren’t on the best of terms and he’s such a coward. He’ll roll on her, I guarantee it.”
The detective nodded and, pushing his chair back, stood to leave. “I’ll update you as soon as we know everything. In the meantime, Mr. Conti, I see you have arranged security for Ms. Reddy and yourself? I think that’s a good idea. Until we have either Miss Hubert or Mr. Hargity in custody, I would consider staying somewhere neither of them knows of.”
Giacomo nodded and Norah thanked the detective. When they were alone, Giacomo sat on the side of her bed, careful not to jostle Norah. Her surgery had been a keyhole procedure to repair the spleen rather than remove it, but she was still in pain.
She clicked the morphine medication button now.
“Does it hurt very much, mio caro?”
She smiled at him. “Enough that it’s distracting me, and the only thing I want to think about is you.”
He smiled and kissed her. “I love you so much, Norah Reddy.”
She pressed her lips firmly to his. “And I you, Giacomo Conti.” She leaned her forehead against his. “I know they’re still out there, but something inside me says that we’re almost home clear, you know? That there’s nothing we cannot overcome as long as we love each other.”
“I agree. And to that end …the doctor’s say you’ll be recovering for a few weeks yet. So maybe it’s a good time to start planning our wedding. I need you to be my wife. I need to be your husband. It’s that simple.”
She grinned. “I’m with you. What were you thinking?”
Giacomo laughed. “Bella, I’m a guy. All I want is to shout out to the world that the most brilliant, beautiful woman in the world somehow wants me. But, still, City Hall is also fine.”
She chuckled. “You know what I’d like? I’d like to get married in Italy, with Zulika, Orlando, Ferma, and your family. I want to meet your family, my love.”
Giacomo smiled delightedly. “Then that’s where we’ll do it. My family is spread all around the country, but I do own a house in the Tuscan hills. We could get married there if you’d like. Perhaps when you are released and are well enough to travel, we can go there for your recuperation.”
“That sounds heavenly.”
He moved so he could put his arms around her. “I promise, only good things from now on, Bella.”
Zulika waved goodbye to Ferma as the child skipped happily into school. She had offered to take the girl, as Orlando had been called to a meeting in the city. As she walked back to Anthology, she felt tired. Now that Norah was and safe thought she might be able to relax and sleep, but still she was haunted. In her bones, she felt exhausted. She had an appointment with her oncologist later in the week and her instinct was telling her that he would not have good news. How could he? She’d never been so dog-tired in her life and she was sure her cancer had worsened.
Fred greeted her with a smile when she got to work, and despite herself, Zulika felt better. Fred had been her rock and her comfort at work since everything had happened. “I honestly don’t know how we coped without you,” she told her young friend now.
Fred rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that. You’ve been like family to me.”
Zulika smiled and went into the back room. Family. Strange how life worked out. To Zulika, her family was not the one she grew up in, but rather the one she had found later. Norah. Orlando and Ferma. Giacomo. Fred.
But maybe, just maybe, there would be a link back to her past. Her step-father had called her, distressed—well that was an understatement—devastated over Lucian’s spiral into this desperate situation. Zulika had always had a distant but respectful relationship with Peter Hargity. She’d taken his name when her mother had married him, but after her death, the two of them rarely spoke, communicating mostly by Christmas card or email.
Peter had always treated her mother well, so Zulika should not have blamed him for Lucian’s behavior, but somehow she felt as if there had been something missing in the man’s relationship with his son, something that triggered Lucian’s obvious personality flaws.
So when he had called and asked to come and see her, she had –agreed—mostly because she wanted to get some answers. Her step-father knew nothing of her illness and she didn’t particularly want to inform him.
She called Orlando now and told him, and he immediately offered to be there with her. She was grateful. Ever since
Norah’s abduction, they had seemed to grow closer—not as lovers, but as …she hesitated to use the word …partners. As if the horror of the kidnapping had reminded them both that life was short and to spend it with the people whom you loved.
She hoped her step-father would find that kind of peace too.
Hollister Bean felt every day of his fifty-eight years. He steered the car into the motel parking lot and parked. He remembered coming to this island with Deana for a day out the year before she had died. She’d loved all the farm shops and the small town feel of the place. He didn’t blame his old buddy, Doug, for moving here and getting away from the city, but he could never do it. Hollister was a ‘Frisco man—a city man. He lived for the heady, frenetic pace of the homicide department, the growl of the city’s underbelly, and the fact no day was the same as the another. Doug was now the police chief on this island on the Columbia River. When he’d called Hollister this morning and told him they had a body that matched Lucian Hargity’s description, Hollister hadn’t hesitated. He had gotten in his car immediately.
As he got out, he noticed Doug across the road in a coffeehouse. Hollister looked at the Old Movie House’s impressive façade, the old marquee offering up promises of fine coffee amongst friends. He smiled slightly at the mock film titles: To Kill a Mocha-Bird; The Sheltering Chai; Americano Psycho. He locked the car and walked over, pushing open the door and smiling at the pretty dark-haired girl who called out a greeting to him. She was talking to Doug, who turned and smiled at his old boss. Hollister wasn’t one for hugs, but seeing the strain on his friend’s face, he made an exception. Doug clapped him on the back and introduced him to his pretty friend, Noor. Hollister refused her offer of coffee.
‘Thanks, but I’d sooner get to the scene if it’s okay with my young friend here.’
Doug walked him back to the motel, leading him to a room at the far end of the lot. Already, the place was teeming with crime scene specialists. Doug made an annoyed sound in his throat.
‘I asked them not to disturb the body. Let’s hope they haven’t. The word of a small-town chief doesn’t carry as much weight as a homicide cop.”
Hollister looked sideways at him, a small smile playing around his mouth. ‘Missing the power, Doug?’
Doug grinned ruefully. ”Some.” A bored-looking medical examiner was leaning against the outside, making notes. Doug nodded at him and turned to Hollister. ‘I’d like you to go in alone for a sec, take a quick look, then come out. First impressions.’
Hollister nodded and walked into the motel room. Flies rose and a miasma of scavenging automatons swarmed around Hollister as he approached the corpse. He vainly batted a few away, the sheer number of them making his action redundant. The man’s body was at the end of the room, spread-eagled on the floor. A huge hole in the man’s forehead was already seething with maggots. The smell was overwhelming, the scent of decay and putrefaction hitting the back of Hollister’s throat, making him gag. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief and got closer. A bullet straight to the T-zone. Instant death. Lucian Hargity’s eyes were open, staring, his face contorted in agony, and his mouth stretched out in a silent scream.
Vomit rose in Hollister’s throat. He stepped back, trying to avoid the blood that covered the cheap linoleum. He reached the door of the room and stepped into the mercifully fresh air. After a minute or two, he sucked in great lungfuls of oxygen. Doug stood watching, a tired, knowing expression on his face. The M.E. looked between the men curiously. Hollister nodded at him. ‘You can go in now.’ He waited until the doctor had gone in, then pulled Doug away from the motel room and the stench and horror. Hollister looked at his friend, his gaze resigned.
‘Yeah,’ he said. “It’s him.”
Zulika crept into the room to grab a blanket. Giacomo, lying next to Norah, lifted his head.
‘Hey,’ he whispered. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind us taking over your apartment? I feel badly that you’re sleeping on your own couch.’
After Norah was released from the hospital after ten days, Giacomo had wanted them to go to a hotel—anywhere that Tara wouldn’t know—but Norah wanted somewhere familiar. His place was out, as was Orlando’s (if Norah’s suspicions about Tara’s involvement with Carmel’s murder were correct). Zulika had offered them her apartment without hesitation. Tonight she had intended on staying at Orlando’s, but she and Norah had been chatting so much that it had gotten way too late. Now Giacomo apologized again for invading her space.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Please.’ She smiled and went out into the living room. Giacomo, having made sure Norah was fast asleep, followed her out.
”She okay?”
He nodded, but looked strained.
Zulika touched his arm. ‘Hey, she’s safe. She’s alive. She’s mending. Stop beating yourself up. This was not your fault.’
Giacomo slumped into the armchair and shook his head. Zulika sat opposite her friend, concern on her face.
“It’s him. He did this. He’s the only one at fault here. Well, him and that …God I can’t think of a name bad enough for that bitch of an ex-girlfriend of yours. Crusty skank womble.” She looked pleased with her invention.
Giacomo grinned. ‘See, there you go. I knew you had it in you.’
Zulika smiled, but then was silent. “The thought of Tara wanting to kill Norah …I can’t bear it, Giacomo.” Her eyes filled with tears and he got up and hugged her.
‘I know. It defies explanation. But that’s the difference between her and us. There’s a part of me that believes, really believes, that she isn’t human. How the hell did I ever get involved with her?’ Giacomo sat on the arm of her chair, his expression confused. For a moment he was silent. He looked up when he heard a noise from the bedroom. Zulika squeezed his arm.
“Get back in there, soldier.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Zul.”
When he’d gone, closing the door quietly behind him, Zulika pulled the blanket over her and rested her head on the arm of the couch.
Today, although she hadn’t told anyone, her oncologist had confirmed her fears. The cancer had spread. She had been calm, nodded, and asked him about treatment options. More surgery. More chemo.
She hadn’t had time to process it yet and now she found she didn’t want to. Don’t wallow. Just deal with it step-by-step, and it’ll be okay.
Her cellphone bleeped with a text message. How you doing, kiddo?
Orlando. She smiled. Feeling a smidge like a third-wheel. Otherwise, good.
I can come get you. Ferma’s at yet another sleepover. I swear that girl has more friends than I have hairs on my head.
Zulika giggled. Then I accept …but I’ll take a cab.
No way. I can be there in twenty.
Zulika hesitated, then laughed softly.Okay …but I’ll come down. Norah’s asleep
Gotcha.
Fifteen minutes later, she had scribbled a hasty note to Norah and Giacomo and, sneaking back into her bedroom, she managed to grab her washbag and a change of clothes. Norah and Giacomo were asleep, Norah wrapped protectively in Giacomo’s arms, and Zulika couldn’t help watching them for a few minutes. They looked so contented, so together, that it made Zulika’s heart hurt. The only time she felt like that was …
With Orlando. She knew then that she was lost, that she loved him completely, and when she saw his email as he drove up to the sidewalk outside her apartment, she knew she had to tell him.
She got into the car and he leaned over to kiss her cheek. She deliberately moved so that she could kiss his lips. He looked surprised, then responded, his fingers coming up to cup her face.
“Zul?”
“I’m tired of waiting, Orlando. So tired. I mean no disrespect to Carmel, I promise you ...but I’m in love with you. I think I have been from the start.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head. “Please let me finish this before I chicken out. Lando …my cancer has spread. Now, it’s not hopeless by any means, but there is a ris
k I might not make it. I want to be upfront about that, and so if you have any doubts—any doubts—I can get out of this car right now and we’ll call it even. I don’t want to put you through that pain again if you feel anything for me like I feel for you. So, cards on the table. I love you and I want to be with you. I might have limited time left. I don’t know.”
By the time she finished speaking, her voice was shaking. For a long moment, Orlando gazed at her, then quite deliberately started the car. Zulika took a shaky breath in and he smiled at her.
“Let’s go home, baby,” he said in a low, tender voice. “Let’s go home.”
Back at Orlando’s house, no words were needed. He led her straight to his bedroom and began to strip her slowly, kissing every piece of exposed skin. Zulika shivered with pleasure as she felt his mouth on her clit, his tongue teasing her. Yes. Yes. This was right. This was meant to be.
Orlando lifted her onto his bed and stripped quickly, Zulika admiring the thickly muscled arms and shoulders, the slim hips, and the firm thighs. She reached down to stroke his already hard cock and heard his soft groan as she touched him, cupping his sensitive balls.
“Zulika, you are my love,” he murmured and she smiled through her tears.
“I love you so much, Lando. So, so much.”
He thrust his cock deep inside her and she wound her legs around his waist, willing him deeper and harder into her, her fingernails digging into his back as they moved together. They made love slowly at first, then as the intensity between grew, with a kind of feral need. Something had been forged between them and they were clawing at each other, desperate to consume as much of the other as possible. Zulika moaned his name as he fucked her harder, his fingers caressing her clit as his cock slammed into her cunt over and over. She gave herself over to him completely, every part of her body on fire. When she came, she cried out his name, losing herself completely in the moment with absolute pleasure, absolute love.
They fucked again, Zulika on top, almost straight away, continuing until both of them were exhausted and panting for breath. They lay facing each other, Orlando brushing his lips against hers. “Zul …I think it’s time to tell Ferma about us. I think she’ll be okay. I really do. She adores you.”
His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 16