“Have you something to tell? This is not a good time. I will be on stage in ten minutes!”
Alessandro shook his head: he hadn’t come for that. If he had followed his instinct and his mind, he would have kept her far away: she was the one he was supposed to hunt, to distract. She was the prey, he was the huntsman. She could ruin him as he could do with her. The right choice was letting her go and making her to go away.
Indeed, he leaned a hand out:
“I came to wish you good luck with your lesson”.
She raised her chin up:
“I don’t need luck. But thanks.”
She went away, leaving him in the middle of the hall.
When she took the floor, everybody heard her firm voice, her precise speech. She exposed the facts and asked questions; she interacted with her audience and started a back-and-forth that made the class one of the most interesting they had ever attended to. At the end, she got a lot of applauses. She smiled with satisfaction.
She went down the stairs and stopped in front of Claudia. The girl was talking to Luigi and Alessandro. When she saw Chiara, she smiled and greeted her:
“Nice work!”
She had a lot of questions to ask. Chiara answered calmly.
“Man, Chiara, you’re so clever. I wish I could be as good as you!”
Alessandro had stopped watching his mobile phone and was now staring at her, provokingly:
“Pilati?”
“Ferrari, tell me!”
“Can we have a talk before tonight’s dinner?”
“Of course we can”. She moved to his side and he asked:
“How did you come here?”
“Torres rid me!”
“I can ride you back. Torres went to the Prefecture!”
Chiara bit her own lip.
“Ale, I can drive her too. Maybe we could have a walk before dinner!”
Alessandro gritted his teeth. Carlo was becoming tedious.
“Or maybe she wants to have a shower before dinner. And so do I. What about you?”
Carlo looked perplexed. He saw Alessandro’s fists and his jaw clenched:
“Ale?” he called.
He shook his head. “Sorry, dude. I’ve some troubles to fix and a problem with the robbery report”.
Carlo brightened back.
“I see! You just had to say you need an expert’s help. That’s why you want Pilati for you alone, isn’t it?”
Alessandro burst out laughing. Chiara gritted her teeth.
“If you have done with compliments, I just need one of you two to ride me to my hotel. Maybe I should call a taxi!”
Alessandro looked at her:
“Let’s go!”
He opened her door. Chiara was surprised.
“Thank you!” He closed the door without replying.
“I have nothing to ask or tell you at the moment!”
“Did I ask you anything, detective?”
He kept silent. A low scratch came from the radio.
“To the hotel?” he asked.
“Yes!”
She had thought she could try and go to his flat. Maybe she would have been able to see what was inside the brown case, if he had it again. But she felt awkward thinking to spend time alone with him: the erotic feeling between them was reaching the limit even in the car. She couldn’t and hadn’t to forget he was her target.
Alessandro barely turned his head, checking her out. She was still, her profile looked like a master had chiselled it. Her look was firm; her chest rose up and lowered back. Nothing leaked from her expression; nevertheless, her hands barely trembled. She felt the sex appeal too. Despite of that, she was the enemy; she could steal his future away. He was hunting her; any distraction could have been fatal, even if it came from her magnificent legs or from her voluptuous scent of rose. He couldn’t expose himself. Despite of that, when her hand slid on his and stroke delicately it, her touch made him veer. Alessandro turned and watched her: she made no move, as if her touch had been an accident.
Her hand looked for his again and so did her leg. Alessandro bit his own lip:
“Pilati?”
Her eyes widened and she turned to him, innocent:
“What’s up, detective?”
“Nothing,” answered he. He tried and turned his eyes back on the street; he couldn’t resist. He watched her again: she looked lost in her thoughts. He couldn’t know she was thinking to the brown case; he wasn’t aware she was up to go where he had been the night before and search for proofs.
“Here we are!”
“Thanks for the ride!”
Alessandro got out of the car and leaned against it: “You’re welcome”.
“Ale?”
He reached for her; they were apart for a few inches:
“Let me come up with you”.
Chapter 18
Chiara stared at him:
“I don’t like butterflies too!”
Dammit. He lost chis mind with her; he had no sense of boundaries whatsoever. She could ruin him and he’d have better ran away, hoping she was going to leave as soon as possible. Indeed, he wove his fingers with hers and replied:
“I don’t mind butterflies!”
Chiara took a deep breath; a hot wave spread out in her stomach. It was like lava and she could feel her legs trembling. She rose up her chin; she had to deal with her choice and take her principles apart from that story. Was she seducing him? Was she using her body? Then why she held on to the idea he was innocent? She was quite positive and self confident to affirm she was able to read other people’s mind. She had always been; despite of that, her confidence was wavering. While going toward her suite, he touched her back; Chiara felt hot and whirled out.
“Tell me about Jamal!”
He shook his head:
“I have still time, Chiara. You granted me!”
Her hands trembled. He guided her fingers with his and she turned back to him:
“The attraction between us isn’t enough to make me to overlook on what’s happening. I hope it’s clear”.
She was exactly like Snow White. But he had a goal; he couldn’t feel what he felt; he wasn’t supposed to be jealous. Indeed he was, dammit. He wasn’t supposed to think of her, even if in order to keep her away. But he did; he thought of her even during the night before, while taking his documents. He thought of her so long he hadn’t still read them.
She went in and put her jacket on a chair; then she turned to him and told:
“Put your jacket off!”
He executed. She went on.
“Now your shirt!” Again, he did what she had told him. She touched his bare chest; her fingers wandered on his muscles, slid down on his abdomen and started to mess about his belt, unhooking his gun.
“You have all your clothes on, Chiara. Just saying!”
She arched an eyebrow.
“You don’t say?”
Her hand was still lingering on his body. Her fingers played on his skin. Chiara pulled his trousers down and got close to him, her eyes closed. Alessandro brushed her hair. The rough fabric of her uniform tickled his skin; she lifted her chin and looked into his eyes; then she stepped away and took off her shirt, letting it slid to the ground. He brushed her breasts and her lace bra. Her skin was burning; her chest moved up and down. He moved on her and kissed her skin, brushing lightly her lips with his own; he stroked her abs with his fingers. Then he rested both his hand on her hips; his eyes widened when she pulled down her own trousers and kicked them away; then, she spun around and leaned her back to his chest, throwing her head back to offer her throat to his kisses. She sighed, kissing him, penetrating his lips with her tongue: he tasted of dark, strong coffee. Chiara closed her eyes and opened her mouth, welcoming his tongue.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bed. He stopped when they had almost reached it:
“Chiara?”
She nodded briefly; he pushed her over the bed and jumped on her. She found herself with he
r back on the mattress, his mouth on her throat, her bra flying away and his hands touching every part of her body. Alessandro’s hand ran along her body and stroked between her legs. She winced; her body shivered. She pressed against his hand with her pelvis and looked into his eyes. He was so handsome, while he focused on her trying and reading her soul, while a flame danced in his eyes.
Chiara’s hand slid down his chest and brushed against his nipples; she licked them and heard his moans; her commons sense was leaving her alone: it was impossible to avoid.
He looked at her: she was lying on the white blanket, her black hair spread around her face. She looked so beautiful he could risk anything for her. Maybe she wasn’t Snow White; maybe she was a witch, a siren from Odyssey. Or maybe she was just the girl he wanted to sink into. He penetrated her but, when she winced out, he stopped:
“What’s up?”
Why did he stop?
Chiara’s eyes opened wide. How could a man so respectful, a man that stopped just because of a sigh, be corrupt? A man that gave so much importance to the woman he was making love to could be a terrorist? Could he be the one who had doomed innocent souls to death? Could he be corrupt?
“Go on” she whispered.
She soon lost her control and her contact to reality. While he moved into her, kissing her and according to every moan that came from her lips, she pulled his face close to her and brushed her lips against his cheekbones, seconding every thrust of him with her own pelvis, caressing his back. His skin was soft and warm; her pleasure grew and grew, her legs trembles, her breath became short; she was hot and cold.
For every moan of her, Alessandro felt his pleasure grow till it overwhelmed him. She reached her orgasm too, screaming out and shaking. He lied on her and surrounded her with his arms.
It was 7.30 p.m.; they had to go to dinner at 8.30 p.m. He ignored it and kept her close; she had refuged in his arms; she looked like a child. He barely moved and inhaled her scent.
“Ale?”
He hoped she wasn’t up to ask questions.
“We have a dinner tonight and you can’t wear your uniform. Shouldn’t you go home?”
“It’s your way to say goodbye, Pilati?”
He sat on the bed.
“Indeed it is!”
He was speechless.
“Ale, go away. I need a shower. You need it too and you have no change of clothes with you!”
She was right; nevertheless, her way of being distant floored him instead of leaving him relieved as it was supposed to do.
Chapter 19
Chiara got in the shower, lost in her thoughts; she had just one goal on her mind. She was going to investigate after dinner.
Alessandro wasn’t at the restaurant when she arrived; a few minutes after, she saw Luigi entering with a gorgeous girl she supposed she was his fiancée. She smiled.
“Chiara, you look awesome!” Carlo exclaimed.
She shook her head:
“You, lady’s man.” He was smiling though he was a bit nervous. She considered his guilt as a minor possibility. She had studied his file: there was no shadow on his career. The only one she had to investigate about was Alessandro: she wasn’t very happy of this.
He arrived a couple minutes later; she tried to keep inscrutable, as long as he was. He wore a black t-shirt and a jersey highlighting his legs and his butts. He watched all of them, paying particular attention to her skinny sweater: he couldn’t see what she was wearing under it. Actually, he didn’t want to know.
They were enjoying each other’s jokes. Carlo leaned out to Chiara and called for her. Alessandro gritted his teeth; his phone started to ring:
“Sorry!” he said leaving the table.
Chiara swore. Maybe she had to put a bug in his phone. She couldn’t find a reason to get up and follow him. Blimey, she thought, wishing to be able to read his lips. Alessandro stayed away a quarter-hour and Chiara started wondering on who was on the other side of the phone.
Luigi looked at her:
“Are you okay, detective?”
She winced out:
“Yes, I am.”
She had to be careful; her attention to details was essential. Carlo was laughing and joking, smiling to the waitress. Chiara had a taste of her pizza. It smacked of plastic. There were no proofs nailing Carlo or his former wife; the clips showed up no strangers. Whoever had put that report in Torres’ mailbox came from inside. Two of three squads had not come back. Spisni and Ruggeri, her supervisor, were on her back.
Alessandro came back; they looked at each other. He took a bottle of water and touched her hand; both got a shock; nevertheless, nor he nor she stopped touching the other’s hand; their eyes were chained. Chiara pulled back herself, while he taking a glass of water.
“All ok, boss?”
“Yes, Carlo; thanks.”
Chiara wasn’t hungry anymore. Suddenly, all was wrong. She put her dish away; she wanted to go our and clear her own mind. She had seduced Alessandro; despite of that, she realized she didn’t want to find him corrupt; there was something strong between them. She got up and said:
“Sorry, need the toilet!”. She was running away as she couldn’t do anything else; she needed to get away. She leaned on the sink and put her own face under the water jet; it was freezing. What was going on? She felt dizzy and she leaned to the wall.
“Are you okay?” Someone had knocked at the door. It was Alessandro; she tried and calmed down.
“Yes, I am!” She walked to the door with difficulty.
Alessandro had in mind her skirt and her boots; he had looked at her butt, while she went to the bathroom. Memories of them together had overwhelmed him. He had crumpled his handkerchief; Jamal’s voice on the phone still sounded in his mind. His attempts to keep him away seemed doomed to fail. And then, ha had noticed she wasn’t coming back. He had got up, leaving Carlo and Luigi back.
He knocked again.
“Chiara?”
The door opened; he saw her pale face and grabbed her arm.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and faced him proudly, despite of her paleness. She was lying, he thought; she wasn’t okay at all.
“Come with me. I’m walking you back to our table. Maybe you’d better catch some fresh air?”
“Yes, I would, but…”
He fooled her:
“You could faint in the hall. Come on!”
Chiara put her head on his chest and sighed; he surrounded her thin waist with his arm. Once they had come out, she breathed deep:
“What was that?”
“My stomach, I suppose. Don’t worry.”
He nodded. His gaze slid on the street and lingered on a parked car. There were two men on board. Alessandro’s hand stiffened on her hip.
“Ale?”
“It’s okay. We’d better come back.” He was still looking at the car.
“Do you know them?”
“No”.
“You lie”. She sounded out calm. They were still; he pulled her close and sighed:
“Chiara…”
She breathed deep and try and focused her mind on the car; they both heard the growl of a starting engine. He swore out.
“Come in!” He sounded out alarmed, quite scared; he made her spin around while the car taking speed and approaching them; she put her hand on the gun. So did Alessandro. The car darted out and got on the pavement with two wheels, almost touching them just before Alessandro pulled her back. The car’s windows were tinted: they couldn’t see the faces of the men in.
Alessandro’s heart was pounding. Chiara looked at him: he was pale and didn’t seem up to let her go. He kept her close and stroked her back slowly.
“You okay?”
“You owe me a reason!”
“Later! Come back with me, please!”
She nodded; the road was deserted now. As they reached the restaurant’s door, she saw Carlo coming. Alessandro let her go immediately and stepped away from her.
“Where were you?”
“I felt sick. Alessandro walked me outside!”
“And how are you right now?”
“Better. Thank you.”
Alessandro sat on his chair; he looked thoughtful. Chiara smiled to Carlo; she liked his attentions, but her only thought was Alessandro; he attracted her gaze like a magnet.
Who were those men? It was a sort of warning?
She met his eyes and mouthed: “Need to talk”.
He shook his head and gritted his teeth.
She sat and grabbed her phone, texting him.
Alessandro heard a beep and saw a text blinking on the screen,
“Your time is expiring. I’ll report tomorrow. Your shift!”
Alessandro looked up. He needed more time.
Chiara frowned. Spisni and Ruggeri were on her back; she needed to put an end to that story. Once they had seen the pictures she had sent, they had put her under pressure. She had asked for more time, she was looking for other evidences, she said. How could she find out what was in the brown case? She had to force his hand out.
Chiara looked at Luigi and his fiancée, playing with each other’s hand. She resented.
“Chiara, come one. Let’s go and have a drink. Martina and Luigi are in. Ale, what about you?” asked Carlo.
He shook his head. “I give up”.
“Please, Carlo, don’t get offended. I feel a bit odd and I have a video call with my boss tomorrow in the morning. Maybe next time,” argued Chiara.
“You want me to drive you to your room?”
Chiara looked around. The restaurant was full with talking people; the waiters went back and forth; she breathed deep and said:
“Thank you, but no. Do you mind if we ask for the bill?”
They got up and reached for the exit. Alessandro was at her side.
“Chiara”.
“I warned you. It’s up to you now: you must tell me something. If you don’t, I will have something to tell to my boss!” She was on the doorway; he grabbed her hand.
“Chiara, wait!”
She pulled her hand back and went away.
Carlo was heading to his car; Luigi and Martina followed him. Chiara joined them and left him on the threshold. He ran a hand through his hair and swore:
UNDER THE CLOAK Page 8