by Lisa Plumley
No two people had ever been more in sync than she and Shane were. No one had ever deserved her trust more than he did.
After all, who else would have actually lost sleep worrying about her safety? Who else would have muttered macho threats on her behalf, hustled her home to his luxurious downtown sanctuary, and then (incredibly) made her forget all the troubles of the previous day with a simple drop to his knees?
No one, that’s who. Only Shane.
Not that his drop to his knees last night had been simple. It hadn’t been. Gabriella didn’t know quite what he was doing when he made love to her—because Shane was far too skilled at making her lose her mind and her sense of propriety when they were together—but whatever it was, she loved it. She loved him.
She loved that Shane wanted to protect her. She loved that he wanted to help her, both with her parents and with the pizzerias. She loved that he was so open, so cocksure, so sweet.
And sure, so Shane hadn’t actually said that he loved her again, it occurred to Gabriella as she stretched in bed, then let her gaze fall on his sleeping face. But she knew he felt it.
Shane’s feelings for her were evident in everything he did. They infused who he was. Gabriella didn’t know everything about the man Shane had been before he’d come to Portland. After last night, in the car, she had the sense there was a lot more to Shane than his easygoing demeanor and pride in mastering mopping suggested. But for now, Gabriella reasoned, she knew enough.
She knew enough to love Shane. She knew enough to want him.
She knew enough to decide to let him sleep in late.
Feeling full of affection for him, Gabriella let her gaze linger on Shane’s face. He slept like a little boy forced to share a bed with a bully, all curled up on one side with a fistful of blanket. Even if they fell asleep in each other’s arms, Gabriella reflected, Shane never stayed next to her. He never forgot to shove that blanket in whatever gap existed between them, either. However confident and brash Shane was while conscious, he couldn’t control himself while asleep.
Asleep, Shane was alone, with just a blanket to hug.
Gabriella hoped she could change that eventually. She hoped that, given enough time and love, Shane would recognize that it was nicer sleeping with an armful of woman than an armful of comforter. She hoped Shane would sprawl out, claim his space, feel unguarded enough—even in his sleep—not to defend himself.
But that miracle might be a long time coming. And right now, Gabriella needed coffee. Gallons and gallons of coffee.
She needed to get to work soon. Just because her dad was in the process of potentially making a deal didn’t mean she could slack off. Her crew was depending on her. So were her customers. Gabriella still hoped to talk to her dad—after giving them both some much-needed cooling-off time—and find out more about the mysterious offer he’d mentioned. Maybe she could still find a way to swing this in Campania’s favor. In the meantime …
Wearing a smile, Gabriella got out of bed. The shirt she’d borrowed from Shane to sleep in last night was flung over a lampshade, testament to Shane’s haste in getting it off her after he’d carried her into the bedroom last night. Lazily, Gabriella plucked back that shirt, then shrugged into it.
Just buttoning it made her feel closer to Shane.
Geez, she was really in deep here. And it was nice.
Barefoot, she padded into the kitchen. From the street far below her, the sounds of honking cars and idling trucks filtered upward, very faintly. Portland’s downtown traffic was up early, just like her. Sunshine sparkled from the pristine countertops, the professional-caliber appliances, and the adjacent dining room table. Nostalgically, Gabriella went over and ran her hand across its polished surface. She glanced down at the nearby rug.
This was where it had all begun. And she was glad.
There were too many good things about Shane not to be happy she’d found him. That night, at the brewpub, Gabriella hadn’t known what she was getting into. All she’d been looking for was a distraction—a way to blow off steam and forget her troubles.
She’d gotten so much more. The serendipity of that made her grin. She’d have been the first person to mock the idea of love at first sight. She’d have been the last person, ordinarily, to accept a coincidence like meeting Shane at the brewpub and then allowing him to shadow her at Campania the next day.
But maybe it was time she changed a few of her cynical ways, Gabriella mused as she went in search of coffee. Because she’d let down her guard with Shane, and she’d gotten so much in return. Love. Help. More sex than anyone technically required.
Grinning over that, then giddily recognizing the spot where Shane had ravished her at the kitchen counter last night, Gabriella grabbed the closest cupboard door. She opened it.
A thick bundle of paperwork fell out. Partly enclosed in a bulging accordion file, it landed open side down, spewing papers.
Puzzled, Gabriella looked at it. That was a weird place to file papers. Especially so many papers of all different kinds. Blueprints. Tax returns. Recipes. Even a notebook, bound and ruled, that looked exactly like the kind her dad used.
Gabriella grabbed the notebook. She looked closer.
It was the same kind of notebook her dad used. The very same. Because it was one of her dad’s customer notebooks. Here.
Heart pounding, Gabriella dropped to the floor. She sat beside the open cupboard, ignoring the groceries within, no longer caring if she found coffee to brew. What was all this?
A few minutes’ scrutiny told her. It was a complete dossier on Campania—and the other Grimani pizzerias, too. The file was stuffed with incriminating paperwork—paperwork no one outside of her family ought to have had access to. Gabriella gawked at it.
What the hell was going on here?
The only person who needed something like this was …
The saboteur. The person who’d been gunning for Campania.
The person who’d left her that threatening note last night.
Shane? Feeling tears spring to her eyes, Gabriella angrily swiped them away. This wasn’t a time for bawling. It was a time for acting. She had to get out of there. Before it was too late.
I’m watching you. Close the pizzeria or you’ll be sorry.
This is your last warning.
Oh, God. Was Shane the one who’d threatened her? He had to have been. Frantically Gabriella scooped up the papers, then started stuffing them into the file, trying to sort out her racing thoughts. She needed these things. She needed to get out of there. She needed to prove to someone that Shane was trying to crush the pizzeria.
Why would he threaten her … and then protect her all night?
Gabriella couldn’t explain that contradiction. She couldn’t stick around to figure it out, either. With the file in hand, she stood on shaky legs and glanced around the kitchen.
Everything still looked the same. Placid. Clean. Real.
It felt completely different. It felt dirty and spoiled.
Shane had misled her. He’d wormed his way in, gotten Gabriella to trust him, compiled all this information….
She was going to be sick.
Blindly, Gabriella rushed for the bathroom. Still clutching the file of materials—surely they qualified as industrial espionage, at the least?—she made her way down the hall.
She slammed headlong into something big and solid.
Shane.
Smiling, he took her arms. “Hey, you. What’s the rush?”
His gentle, affectionate tone was a knife to her heart.
“Fuck off,” Gabriella gritted out. “Don’t touch me.”
She swerved past him, moving fast. She no longer felt sick. She felt scared. Stupid. Betrayed. She threw down the bulging file and grabbed her jeans. A second later, she was forcing her feet into the flats she’d worn to dinner last night. She considered changing into her own shirt, then abandoned the idea.
Shane had stolen her love and her trust. He was just going to have to deal w
ith her stealing his button-down shirt.
Heartsick, Gabriella lunged for the file again. She clutched it to her chest like a shield, then turned away.
Shane blocked the path out of the bedroom. With his arms amiably wide, he nodded at the file. “Whatcha got there?”
He couldn’t have looked less menacing. Or hurt her more.
Was he being deliberately casual to draw her off balance?
“Evidence of your sabotage,” Gabriella told him, furious and hurt. She drew in a fortifying breath. “Get out of my way.”
“I can’t do that. I have to explain first.”
“You can’t explain this.” She waved the file. “It speaks for itself, Shane. The electrical diagrams, the blueprints, the tax returns and the recipes and the notebook—it was all so easy for you, wasn’t it? You just waltzed into Campania and—”
And made me love you.
“—took everything you wanted. Me, my crew—”
“Well, to be fair, some of your crew were working with me.”
That meant Shane had betrayed her. He hadn’t even bothered to deny it. That had been a tacit admission of guilt.
Stunned, Gabriella reeled. The file in her arms felt like the only solid thing in a world gone dark. Until now, she realized, she’d been hoping she was wrong. She’d been hoping Shane would not have done what she thought he’d done.
She raised her chin. “‘Some’ of them?” she asked coldly.
“Jennifer,” Shane told her matter-of-factly. “Emeril. They’re both ‘ringers.’ I put them in place to help me.” He had the audacity to smile at her. His smile, so familiar and so beloved, almost threw Gabriella off kilter. It almost lulled her into wanting to trust him. “Emeril is actually a very qualified chef. It’s his knife set I’ve been using,” Shane confided further. “He thought it would be funny to act like a newbie.”
“Yeah,” Gabriella said drily. “Funny.”
“Not like that!” Shane rushed to add. He actually seemed to believe he could talk his way out of this. He stepped nearer—and almost succeeded in making her want him to. “But if you’re going to infiltrate a crew, you want to have fun, if you can.”
“You turned my crew against me.” The reality of it was Gabriella’s worst nightmare. She couldn’t trust anyone anymore. “Take a good look. I’m not having fun.”
Shane sobered. “I’m not either.” Suddenly, his eyes looked haunted. He stepped even nearer. “Gabby, listen. I’ve been trying to tell you about this. I have! All those times I’ve offered to ‘help’ you, it’s been because of this. Because of who I am.” He told her something implausible about “fixing” things. About deciding to save Campania. Then his gaze shifted tellingly to the dossier in her arms. “You’ve got the wrong idea about that, though. I found that last night. That’s not even mine.”
“Oh.” Gabriella didn’t waver. “Where’s yours?”
Shane remained mum, confirming all her fears.
“Then you have one.” Swearing under her breath, Gabriella stared at him. It was as if she didn’t know him. Not anymore. “You didn’t need this research. All you needed to do to break me was to do what you just did—make me trust you, then betray me.”
“I didn’t betray you,” Shane cajoled. “I helped you.”
“By sabotaging me? Even coming from you, that’s—”
“No.” Seeming on the verge of real concern, Shane touched her arm. Gabriella jerked away, but he just went on. “You don’t know it, but you got lucky. That first takeover attempt your dad weathered a few months ago was child’s play compared with what was in store for you. Waltham Industries wasn’t taking any chances with taking over your family’s pizzerias. That’s why they employed fixers. Better fixers. That’s why—”
“There are even more of you? How many more?”
“—they employed the best,” Shane went on doggedly, his hands at his sides. His eyes gleamed at her, full of skillful lies and what looked like determination. “They employed me.”
Gabriella gave a bitter laugh. She hoisted the file. “Yeah. You’re so good a washed-up pizzaiolo caught you.”
He didn’t back down. “I could have crushed you,” Shane said, delivering her a pain-filled, certain look. “I didn’t.”
At his expression, Gabriella paused. For whatever reason, she believed him. She didn’t want to, but she did. Shane’s story about “fixers” and corporate machinations sounded crazy. But everything that had been happening at Campania was crazy, too.
All the same, she stood her ground. “You don’t get credit for the things you could have done,” Gabriella told him in a hard voice. “I didn’t murder anyone today, either, but you don’t see me collecting a gold star. So again, get out of my way.”
Shane didn’t. “You’re not listening.” Again, he told her about his “assignment” in Portland—about the ruthless things he usually did in the name of work. “You value honesty, goddamn it!” Shane said when Gabriella was unmoved. “This is honesty.”
“It’s lies,” Gabriella told him. “It’s all lies.”
Sadly, Shane shook his head. For a moment, she actually believed he was heartbroken about this. About hurting her.
What kind of damn voodoo power did he have over her?
It couldn’t have been love. Because that was gone.
If it had ever existed.
She’d so wanted it to exist….
“It’s not as if you’ve never told a lie,” Shane pushed. “Last night, with your parents, you weren’t exactly honest.”
“Maybe not.” Gabriella straightened, knowing that was true. “But I never hurt them. I never did that. Not the way you—”
Hurt me. She broke off, unable to finish.
Shane reached for her again, his heart in his eyes. “Gabby, I never meant to hurt you. I swear, I did worse on this job than any job in my life. I let chances go by, I did the right things … hell, I learned to mop for you! How can I make you see—”
“You can’t.” Boldly, Gabriella stopped him. She held close her unwanted dossier, wondering if Shane would actually let her leave with it, or if he’d try to stop her. When she’d said she was in over her head with him, she’d had no idea. “I’m leaving.”
She made her move by swerving past him.
Shane seemed surprised—or hurt—enough to let her go.
But not far. Gabriella only made it to the living room before Shane grabbed her arm. She whirled around, crumbling on the inside. On the outside, though, she felt as strong as steel.
“You can’t leave.” Shane stood there, looking almost as defenseless as he had while asleep. “You still need me.”
His gaze lifted to hers. Gabriella felt drawn in, pulled nearer, desperately inclined to just … forgive him and forget.
You can’t leave because you still love me, Shane’s gaze seemed to accurately intuit. You can’t leave because I still love you, it whispered further … but only in Gabriella’s wishful interpretation. Because nothing Shane said communicated that.
“You’re still in danger.” Stonily, he lowered his hand. “You still don’t know who the saboteur is at the pizzeria.”
For a long moment, Gabriella only stared at him.
“I know who the saboteur is,” she finally said. “I’m looking at him. He just broke my heart.”
Then she grabbed the rest of her things, hugged close the proof of Shane’s treachery, and left his apartment without looking back—still wearing his shirt and still wanting to stay.
Gabby had left him.
She’d found out who he really was, and she’d left him.
With the sound of his slamming door still reverberating in his head, Shane stared at the place where Gabby had just been. If he tried, he could still feel her warmth. He could still smell her signature blend of basil and tomato and sweetness.
He could still wish everything had gone differently.
Ordinarily, Shane knew, he would have deserved this. He would have betrayed her. He would have l
ied, stolen, manipulated and coerced. For that, he would have deserved everything he got.
Even the wounded look in Gabby’s eyes.
But this time, damn it, Shane hadn’t deserved it. This time, at Campania, with Gabby, he’d tried his hardest to be good. He’d sweated and strived, mopped and chopped … and all for what? To be disbelieved? To be accused of sabotage?
To be abandoned, all over again?
Helplessly, Shane felt his knees buckle. It had taken all his strength to try to convince Gabby to stay. Now his strength was gone. Teetering, he grabbed the peninsula for support.
He should have known this would happen. He should have known Gabby wouldn’t really stay. She wasn’t the first to leave him. She wouldn’t be the last. Shane knew that. He always had.
Maybe that’s why he’d kept on compiling info on Campania—why he’d kept acting on autopilot even after he’d quit fixing. On some level, Shane reasoned, he must have wanted a safety net.
Because this would have ended eventually between him and Gabby, Shane knew. She hadn’t even known what he really did for a living. That was laughably basic information for people in a relationship to have. Once Gabby found out what kind of man he truly was, Shane told himself, that would have been it. It was better it had happened now, before he got in too deep.
Who was he kidding? He was already in too deep.
But he was gifted, damn it! He was persuasive. Until that final moment before Gabby left, he’d truly believed he could make her stay. If heartfelt need had the ability to work magic, he would have done it, too. He would’ve hit it out of the park.
Instead, he’d failed. Gabby had gone. He was alone.
Alone. Consumed by the realization, Shane felt his eyes burn. He hadn’t cried in years, but he was on the verge now.
I know who the saboteur is.
I’m looking at him. He just broke my heart.
Under his breath, Shane swore. He’d never seen Gabby seem so cold. So implacable. So devastating as she had just before she’d walked out on him. For a few moments, she’d wavered. For a heartbeat or two, she’d seemed on the brink of listening to him—on the edge of forgiving and forgetting. But then she’d tapped into that impressive well of inner steeliness she’d always possessed, and she’d told him to fuck off in no uncertain terms.