Arturo winced. “Believe me, Pete, I see that image every day. Every day. But Hero’s a fighter. She’s not going to take this lying down. Will you help us?”
“Of course. Of course. And for the record, I do like Hero. I like her very much. I just feel like you two are on a tightrope, and if she falls, it’ll end you.”
“Then we won’t fall, Pete. It’s that simple.”
“I hope you’re right, Turo,” Peter said quietly. “I really do.”
Hero tried Imelda’s number again and got her voicemail…again. She hated the way she had left things with her sister, especially after they had begun to find a new peace between them. Hero rubbed her face and ended the call without leaving another message. Instead, she called her Mom in Kenosha.
“Darling, how wonderful to hear your voice.” Deirdre Donati’s soft voice made Hero want to cry. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Ma, really good. How’re you? How’s Dad?”
“Your Dad is doing great now, honey. He’s just sulking because I won’t allow him fried chicken anymore.” Her mom laughed, and Hero felt a wash of both fondness and sadness.
“I miss you, Ma.”
“We both miss you terribly, Hero, my darling, but I hear you have a new man in your life?”
Hero told her about Arturo, messaging her mother a photograph. “Oh my,” Deirdre said with a chuckle, “I might have to fight you for him, Hero. What a pretty boy.”
Hero laughed aloud. “You are incorrigible, Ma. I can’t wait for you to meet him.” Her smile faded. “Ma…have you heard from Melly?”
Her mother sighed. “No, darling, I’m sorry. You know what Melly is like when she’s in a snit. Gone to ground. She called from the Milan airport but since then…nothing. I’ll leave it a few more days, then I’ll do the Mom thing and yell at her.”
“Don’t yell too hard, Ma. It’s my fault, really. She was just looking out for me.” Hero felt tearful again. She hadn’t told her mother about the death threats, especially after her father’s health scare. There was no point in panicking the rest of her family. “Tell her I love her, would you? I love her, and I’m sorry.”
“I will, sweetheart. We love you very much, Hero. Remember that.”
“I love you, too, Ma, so much. Give Dad a kiss from me.”
After she ended the call, Hero felt a little more positive. She went to find her bodyguard and found him in the kitchen drinking coffee. Gaudio was a hulking Italian, his dark hair slicked back, his brow heavy and brooding. He looked terrifying, but Hero had liked the man as soon as Arturo introduced them. Gaudio might look scary to anyone attacking her, but Arturo trusted him, so Hero had no trouble in believing Gaudio would keep her safe.
She had also hatched a plan that was a million miles away from the reality of her stalker. “Gaudio, I’d like to go into town today—go see my friend, Fliss. Can we make that happen?”
“No problem, Piccolo.”
Hero smiled. She loved the informality of Gaudio’s personality. It made having a guard so much easier on her.
They drove into Como late morning. It was a cloudless day, and Hero let the sun soak into her skin. So much darkness, she thought, and yet this place is so beautiful, so full of possibility.
Fliss threw her arms around her. “It’s been two whole weeks,” she accused a grinning Hero. “Please tell me you at least spent all that time shagging that gorgeous man of yours?”
“Um…Fliss, this is Gaudio. Gaudio, my good friend Fliss.”
Fliss looked the gigantic man up and down appreciatively. “I might have to get myself a stalker if it means getting one of you. Hello.”
Gaudio’s white, even teeth shone through his thick beard. “Hello, ma’am.”
“God, no, it’s Fliss. Ma’am is my mum. Or the Queen.” She winked at Hero who chuckled and moved towards the staff room at the back.
“How about you two talk, and I’ll make some coffee?” Hero said.
Smiling, she left them alone and made herself busy with the coffee machine, one ear on the conversation. She’d had the idea last night: Gaudio and Fliss shared the same goofy sense of humor. She’d said as much to Arturo, who rolled his eyes.
“Matchmaking?”
“Hell, yes.”
Now, she waited for the coffee to steep. She noticed an envelope with her name on it, thrown on the table along with some other mail. Her stomach constricted a little. Her name was typed neatly on the expensive looking paper. She picked it up by the edges, then, curiosity getting the better of her, handled it with some tissues as she opened it. Her shoulders slumped with relief. An invitation, printed on heavy cardstock.
Miss Hero Donati plus her chosen guest are formally invited to the Summer’s Eve party at Villa Charlotte as a special guest of Signore George Galiano.
RSVP.
“Chosen guest.” He meant Arturo. “George, you are an ass,” she said to herself. She threw the card back onto the table, then changed her mind. Maybe Arturo would get a kick out of it. She stuck the card in her purse, then took the coffee through to her friends.
She winked at Fliss. “So, you two going out or what?”
“You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer,” Fliss said, not even slightly embarrassed. “Just so happens, Gee and I like the same kind of movies.”
‘Gee’ already? Hero grinned at her bodyguard and had just opened her mouth to speak as the window behind them exploded, and all hell broke loose.
Chapter Nineteen
Arturo drove like a madman into Como, seeing the crowds of shocked-looking people, the police, the ambulances. “Mio Dio…”
He parked the car as close as he could to the store, and then ran the rest of the way. There was a police cordon, but Arturo ignored it, ducking under the tape. He could see Gaudio, Fliss, and—thank God—Hero standing talking to the police. She saw him, and he rushed over and wrapped his arms around her. “Are you alright? Cara mia, are you hurt?” he demanded over and over again, in between frantic kisses.
“Totally fine,” she reassured him. “Just shaken. We’re all okay.” She looked up at him. “It was a busted gas line, nothing sinister. The restaurant across the street is pretty messed up, and there’s some people hurt, but no one was killed.”
“Mio Dio, mio Dio…when I heard, I thought...”
“Yeah. Me, too,” she admitted. “I thought that was it. But I’m still here. Gaudio threw himself on top of Fliss and I. He got a little cut up from the window blowing in, but he’s been a big brave boy about it.”
He knew she was joking to make him relax, and he smiled down at her. “I love you. Come on, let me go thank Gaudio.”
They found the big man surrounded by paramedics, waving them away like so many flies as they inspect his myriad cuts.
Arturo grasped the bodyguard’s uninjured hand and wrung it firmly. “Grazie, Gaudio. I owe you big time.”
“Just doing my job, boss.” Gaudio winked and grinned at Fliss, who mock-slapped him.
“The things you will do to get a grope in. Come on, Gee, let’s go see the damage.”
Gaudio looked at Arturo, who, his arms securely around Hero, nodded.
Hero smiled up at him. “Thank you for getting here so fast.”
“Think I broke all the traffic laws, but just so you know, I’d break them all happily anytime.”
Hero brushed her lips against his. “Do you have to go back to work?”
“Feeling frisky?”
“That whole adrenaline thing.”
Arturo laughed. “I think I’m married to a nympho.”
Hero giggled. “You made me a nympho, Bachi.”
Arturo grinned and took her hand. “Come on. I have a plan.”
The car climbed into the mountains until they reached a small plateau. “Not many people come up here,” Arturo told her, “so we should have the place to ourselves.”
It was cooler—a lot cooler—in the mountains, but Hero didn’t care. She unbuckled her seat belt and straddled Arturo. “M
aking out like teenagers in the car,” she murmured, her lips against his.
“We’ll be doing much, much more than teenagers do, cara mia, believe me…”
He slid his hands under her T-shirt, his green eyes full of fire and intensity. “Do you like this T-shirt, Bella?”
Hero shook her head. “Not particularly.”
“Good.”
He tore her T-shirt open, the quick shock of it and the cold air on her skin making Hero gasp. Arturo pulled the lacy cup of her bra down and took her nipple into his mouth hungrily, sucking and teasing it.
Hero ground against his groin, then unzipped his fly, reaching to release his straining cock, stroking the hot length of it as Arturo attacked her other nipple. Hero pulled her panties to one side and impaled herself on his cock, sighing as the thick length penetrated her.
“Mio Dio, Hero…” Arturo groaned as she began to thrust herself onto him. The confinement of the vehicle only made their lovemaking more intimate, skin on skin, gazes locked, their breath mingling as they kissed.
“I love you,” Hero whispered, “I’ve never loved any man as much as I love you, Arturo Bachi.”
He closed his eyes, nodding to himself, utterly absorbed in her. “As I love you, my precious darling. Please…don’t ever leave me…promise me, promise me.”
“I promise…” Hero managed to get the words out before her orgasm robbed her of her speech and her head dropped back as she gasped. Arturo kissed her throat then groaned as he came, pumping thick creamy cum deep into her belly.
“Hero…Hero…”
On the drive back to Arturo’s home, they joked around with each other, teasing, sharing intimate smiles and knowing looks. Arturo lifted her hand to his lips. “Is it wrong that I kind of hope we made a baby?”
Hero was shocked that she felt no fear when he said that. Not even the memory of Beth changed the peace that she suddenly felt. She would always love her little girl, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t love another baby just as much. “No, because I would love that, too.”
If she stopped to think how much her life had changed in just a few weeks, she would get scared, but all she knew right now was that this man was her future, and if she were to get pregnant, she knew it would only solidify that for her.
However, when they got back to Villa Bachi, everything changed. Waiting for them was Peter and a man they didn’t recognize. Peter introduced them.
“Turo, Hero, this is Simon Lascelles. He’s from the American Consulate in Milan. Mr. Lascelles, Arturo Bachi, and Hero Donati. I think we had better go inside.”
Hero shot a worried look at Arturo, who squeezed her hand and nodded. “Let’s.”
Inside, Simon Lascelles sat down with them. “Miss Donati, I’m aware you contacted us a few days ago about the threats to your life. While we have been looking into them, we discovered something rather disturbing.”
Hero’s chest tightened. “What is it?”
“You were kind enough to give us your family’s details, and we checked their wellbeing as a matter of routine.”
“Oh, God. Mom…Dad…”
“They’re fine,” Lascelles assured her quickly. “It’s your adoptive sister. You told us she left Milan to fly home?”
Hero couldn’t speak. “Oh, God.”
Lascelles nodded. “I’m afraid we have confirmed it. Miss Imelda Donati never made the flight. She never left Italy.”
Arturo talked to Lascelles and Peter as they left, but Hero couldn’t hear anymore. She dropped her head into her hands. Why? Why go after Imelda?
Her cell phone rang, and she knew immediately who it was. “Where the fuck is my sister?”
Her tormenter laughed. “Safe. For now. She’ll be released right after my knife guts you.”
“Why are you doing this? What have I ever done to you?” Her voice was a whisper now, the pain of knowing he had her sister overwhelming her.
There was a long pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was so full of malice and malevolence that it made her shiver. “Because you love him…”
The line went dead.
Arturo came back into the room then and saw her defeated look, the phone on the floor. Hero looked up at him, the pain in her eyes palpable, and it made his chest hurt.
“Il mia amore, what is it?” But she just shook her head, unable to speak.
He sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tremble. “He called you again, didn’t he?”
“He has Imelda,” she whispered into his chest. “He says she’ll be released after I’m dead. He won’t release her. He’ll kill her, too.”
“He is not going to kill anyone.” Arturo felt a murderous rage of his own. “We’re going to find out who this motherfucker is and end him, once and for all.”
Hero looked up at him and nodded. “Agreed. Any clue how to do it?”
Arturo felt hopelessness seep into his bones. “No. But we’ll figure it out.” He stroked her hair away from her face. “Just promise me you won’t ever give up.”
“I promise. We will get to have our happy ever after, Turo.”
“Yes, we do. Damn right we will.”
“And we’ll get my sister back safe and sound?”
The hopeful, trusting look she gave him melted Arturo completely, and he drew her back into a tender kiss. “Yes. I promise, cara mia. We will stop at nothing to ensure her safety. And yours.”
No matter how much Arturo spent on detectives or leaned on the local polizia or the American consulate, no one could tell them anything.
One afternoon they sat in his office with notepads in front of them and stared at each other.
“Look, I know with the police we’ve been through anyone that would hold a grudge against us, but I think we have to do it again. Everything. Ex-girlfriends and boyfriends, one-night stands, old schoolfriends or enemies. If it’s just a random psychopath, then there’s not a lot anyone can do.”
Hero nodded. The strain of knowing her sister was out there, in pain, in such terrible danger, had gotten to her, and now Arturo saw the violet shadows underneath her eyes. It had been a week since they’d discovered Imelda’s abduction, and there was nothing. No one had seen her; it was as if she had vanished into thin air. “Okay, so we go into our histories. School days.”
“School days…if I’m honest, school days for me were about one person. Flavia. We met when we were in seventh grade. Every boy wanted her. But I got lucky. Or, unlucky.”
Hero frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Because, looking back now, Flavia always got her own way. In everything. I’ve only really begun to remember it that way since I met you. Not that I’m comparing you.”
Hero smiled at him. “I know. But the comparison is there, though: our similar looks, the fact that we both loved you, the fact that someone wants to kill me the same way he says he killed her.”
“Why do you say it like that? He says he killed Flav?”
“Because what if this isn’t about Flavia or me,” Hero asked, “but about you—and not in an obsessive, jealous way? What if this is about business? About sending you over the edge? Your uncle is sick, dying. You’re about to become one of the richest men in Italy, possibly even the world, and the scope of the business you’re about to inherit—it boggles the mind. What if this crap is all about unsettling you?”
“It’s working,” Arturo said darkly and sighed. “So, you think that maybe Flav’s murder is entirely separate?”
“I don’t know,” Hero shook her head, “but it’s an option we should look into. A copycat. Maybe they think killing me will destroy you.”
“Then they’d be right. Why take your sister?”
“Obviously they know about the extra protection I have. They know I’d give myself up in a heartbeat to save Melly.”
“Mio Dio.” Arturo closed his eyes. “Please don’t say things like that.”
“You would do the same,” Hero said gently, reaching out and stroking his fa
ce, “you know you would.”
He caught her hand with his, pressing it to his face. “Then we’ll just have to be ruthless in who we investigate. That means everyone. Staring with that figlia di puttana, George Galiano.”
Hero nodded. “He is a creep, no doubt. But something cautions me about really going after him. He’s too obvious a suspect. He’s like a comedy villain. Like the Hooded Claw.”
Arturo raised his eyebrows. “Who?”
Hero chuckled. “Never mind. But, here’s a thought…we could always try a bait and switch.”
“How do you mean?”
“We should break up.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He had gone cold at her words, but she was smiling.
“Not for real, obviously. But, we should argue, publicly…and make sure George sees it. He’ll try and slide in, I guarantee it. Sorry if that makes me sound arrogant, but he’s the type. He would love to seduce me to get back at you.”
“Using yourself as bait?” He grimaced in disgust. “No way.”
“Not bait. There’s no way I’m going to do anything with him, but if he has a conversation with ‘angry me,’ I can gauge his level of…” She searched for the word. “Violence.”
Arturo shook his head, but Hero held up her hand. “Wait, let me explain. By that I mean, a woman can tell when a man has sex on his mind or something more sinister. We have an built-in radar for this stuff—most of the time. I can’t even explain it. We women almost always have to deal with sex pests or men who can turn violent even if all we’ve done is politely refuse a drink. It takes a very sneaky man to hide that—and George isn’t that bright.”
“This all seems very based on…”
“Gut instinct. That’s right. Provable in court? Nope, but I’ll get a read on whether George is capable of killing me or if he just wants to fuck me.”
Arturo got up and paced around, cursing under his breath in Italian.
Hero caught his hands with hers. “We do it somewhere public, where people can see us really duking it out. We can get one of your detectives to follow George, to see when he goes to lunch, then we perform our little play. I’ll cry a lot. George won’t be able to conceal his glee. He’ll want to be the white knight. We’ll let him. Then we get a read.”
Under Her Skin Page 10